Media, Me and Natavia Lowery

With so many new media loves, where on earth will Cocoa end up? Twitter? Maybe but the j-o-b doesn't permit tweeting from 9 to 5 (against policy). Perhaps my 2nd love ('cause Blogger has been my first), Facebook. Yes, maybe FB. Yet, if the blog baby lands there, you'd have to know my true identity...not sure I'm quite ready for all that jazz, America. Or, or, or...perhaps my thoughts shall end up on my very own site...the threat I've been lodging to all of online humankind for the past two years or so.

No matter where I end up, one thing is for certain: I will keep writing/posting/publishing. IDK but something about media has always fascinated me. As a journalism major at SU, I loved that media was dynamic, forever changing and shifting to meet the demands, needs and desires of our world. The forever-changing, adapting factors have always thrilled me. Yet, not so much the journalism/reporting "truths" of it all (note the quotation marks!). As the media that once was continues to cater to the entertainment, land of milk and honey tastes of our society, something tells me that disseminating the truth and enabling justice will be the increasing responsibility of the people. Something else that tickles my fancy. Enter Exhibit A...

On Monday, a Manhattan judge denied Natavia Lowery's defense team's motion to suppress the confession video, which they argued was illegally obtained, and its request for bail for the defendant. Matter of fact, the judge uttered the first "denied" before Natavia even was seated at her table. Reasons for the denials are still unclear as the family and attorneys are sifting through an Iliad-length judge response detailing his reasons for keeping Ms. Lowery behind bars.

This nightmare began in late October 2007. Nearly 18 months and a brand new baby girl later, Natavia is still behind bars. With no murder weapon; no DNA linking the accused to the crime, and a daughter of the deceased who might as well be rocking an "I Did It" T-shirt to the courthouse each day (offended? wait until the trial), I must ask: where is justice in all of this?

To make matters worst, Natavia and her parents didn't have to wait to her case was up to determine the judge's decision. Reportedly, 20 or so special unit police officers were ordered to rush and guard the courtroom about 15 minutes before Natavia's case. A sure and premature sign that the courthouse was expecting an unsettling reaction to what clearly would be (and was) an unnerving ruling. BTW, there was no issue upon the reading of the judge's decision...as there hasn't been this entire ordeal.

So what's next? Seems like the prosecution can surely delay this bad boy at least until August. Pretty interesting considering it has no case outside of a confession video with facts that don't even add up. Since I'm the ultimate optimist, however, I will focus on the upside of this all... The public won't have to view the near-criminal fashion "style" of Assistant DA Joan Illuzzi-Orbon for another four months...gah!

Catty, you say? You haven't read anything yet.

Cocoalicious...so vicious!

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Natavia is (FINALLY) back in court...

Hello Kiddies,

Expect more on this...just wanted to give you a heads up that Natavia Lowery is back in court. Her defense team is arguing that the "confession" video should be thrown out due to the argument that it was illegally obtained by the prosecution.

The judge is expected to make a decision by April 27. Note: no video and the circus is over.

What 'circus' does Cocoa speak of? Check the label stories for more!

Til next time,
Cocoa

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Commuting Fashion Fun!

What's the purpose of being a Butchy Bertha and donning pink and green fatigue-wear? I mean, she's even rocking the "pretty boy" Timbs with a smooth, chestnut-y leather finish. Does this all disqualify homegirl from being an official lesbian? I mean, Cocoa's a girly girl 4 life and straight as a board. Yet, I (seriously) almost tackled homey for her jacket! It was too cute!

I think the Butches of America (BOA) should find this chick and strip her membership....pronto! Just don't forget about the jacket! You can send to me USPS...lol!

Cocoa

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"And the Award for Unbiased Reporting in Journalism..."

...during the week of January 5th goes to...(envelope, please!)...



*applause, applause*

When faced with the lust of jumping on the tabloid "journalism" bandwagon presently steering Natavia Lowery down "Guilty Before Trialed" lane, this true news source wrote this objective headline:

"Prosecutors Play Taped Confession in the Case of Realtor's Murder"

While nowhere near as flashy as the Daily (Not-so Much) News' "I snapped & whacked her: Chilling confession in Linda Stein slay aired", NY1 held its ground on Credible Newsource Blvd. with its brief, but unbiased, story on the Linda Stein murder case.

Another notable difference that helped set NY1 above the competition?

"Lowery's attorneys say her confession was coerced and she was questioned without a lawyer present. Lowery has pleaded not guilty to second-degree murder."

A breath-taking performance! Cocoa looks forward to more class acts from this local news source!

* * *
Okay, irreverent humor aside, Cocoa wants you to understand where I am going with this all. NY1 and the Associated Press newswire were the only two print media sources to mention the fact that Natavia's lawyers are attempting to get the confession video tossed out on the basis that they believed it was obtained illegally. Furthermore, NY1 was the only source to mention the fact that Natavia has pleaded "not guilty."

Following me? Good. The issue is that if the media prints or airs excerpts from a confession video WITHOUT stating 1) the defendant is pleading not guilty or 2) her lawyer's are contesting the admissibility of the video on legal grounds then the average mind would conclude that the suspect is guilty because - it appears - there is nothing more to the story.

Fact has it that Linda Stein was hella connected in all stratospheres of NY life. Even still, Cocoa is having a difficult time of wrapping my mind around the shadiness of it all.

BTW, I attended Natavia's pre-trial hearing on Friday. The detectives on the case clearly are hiding something. They answered the prosecutor's questions with ease and suddenly develop a case of severe amnesia of facts under cross-examination by the defense team. Real Classy.

In closing, Cocoa advised you to give the confession video snippets being aired the ole' side-eye... The (prosecution-leaked?) clip fails to show the detective feeding Natavia her words, her shaking in fear as she recites them or her turning to him - after each sentence - for guidance on what to say next.

Uber classy, prosecution. Uber classy.

Cocoa G.
BTW, we're back to our regularly-scheduled programming tomorrow, kiddies!

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Let's Keep It Classy, NY Post and Daily News...

Oh, I just [heart] the New York Joke and its Daily Muse...

In a move taken straight out of "Shady & Subjective Journalism: 101" both papers ran their own spins on Natavia Lowery's confession to police but failed to mention one key aspect regarding the airing of the tape and purpose of the pretrial:

"Lowery's attorney contends the video statement was improperly taken because she was questioned without a defense lawyer present."

-- Compliments of the Associated Press.

To "reporters" Laura Italiano and Barbara Ross of The Joke and its Daily Muse, respectively, may I suggest that you crack open a copy of Getting the Whole Story: Reporting and Writing the News. It's a fine j-school standby. I should know, since I actually studied and, most importantly, heeded journalistic direction. Oh...another option is switching careers from play-reporting to public relations. At least in PR, your spin-doctoring strategies would be more appropriate.



Cocoa G.

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Site Housekeeping

Let's get a few things straight....

1). I will continue to post about Natavia Lowery.

2). I believe that evidence does not prove that she murdered Linda Stein...

3). ...which also means that I believe Linda Stein's real killer is still at large.

4). Based on the DA's current actions to date and its evidence (not to mention its lack thereof) presented suggests that her case has fowl play written, typed, IM'd, and texted all the f*ck over it!

5). I do not mind thoughtful counter arguments, nor does it bother me that people believe Natavia is guilty. Yet, I will NOT tolerate bullshit for comments. What's that you ask?

"She's a murderer!"

"She is a hooker!"

"Who's her baby's daddy?"

"She's beautiful and ya'll are just jealous that she stole your man!"


6). With one woman dead and another sitting in prison accused of killing her, I ask you "who gives a damn?" because I surely don't.

Again, if you do not - cannot find - anything intelligent to say about this case, your comments will not be posted. It's amazing what people will write behind the veil of "Anon." Arses.

Comment-moderation is in full effect....happy Friday to you, too.

Cocoa Girl

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Natavia Lowery Update: Hearings this Week!

Happy One-Day-Before-Plantation-Break (aka "Thursday")!

Just a Cocoa quickie...

After more than one year of stalling like only a District Attorney's office with a weak case could, the Manhattan DA team has finally started its pre-trial hearing against Natavia Lowery. If you are not famil with Natavia's case, go here , here and here for some background on the ordeal.
Per usual, please send up an additional prayer for justice in this case...Linda Stein's real murderer needs to be brought to trial. Also, pray hope and strength for Natavia Lowery. This battle is clearly uphill but Cocoa's not worried. God will get the glory out of this one. Believe it.

Also, show up and so your support for Natavia if you prefer...BTW, if a member of the media asks you a question, please say "NO COMMENT" or "NO HABLO ENGLISH"...whatever floats your boat. While us brownies, love the camera (or perhaps that's just moi), we would hate for some reporter with "front page" on the brain to make a mountain out of molehill. Yes, kiddies, Cocoa mama knows...SUCH a hard thing to imagine. HA!

Natavia's Pre-Trial Hearings...This Week:

Thursday (today) @ 10:15a
Friday @ 2:15p
100 Centre Street
13th Floor, Rm 182


Be blessed,
Cocoa G.

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Cocoa, La Conformist?

It's a sad, sad day in the Cubicle World kiddies. Cocoa Girl is rocking the pearls, again, and it's not a matter of fashion trend, a career strategy, or after hours s*xcretary/boss daddy role playing with the one fine guy on the job. Unfortunately, Cocoa has made a conscious decision to (gasp!) fall...in...line....

Anyone who knows me, or who reads the blog baby on the reg, understands that I am SO not a fan of Little Miss Conformity, nor her aunties Authority Ann and Better Assimilate Brenda. While I am down for teamwork, big paychecks and bonuses, I like to consider myself more of a free agent when it comes to all things work related. The latter feeling (fantasy?) intensified after I lived a dream like existence that included a fat severance check and donning jeans to the temp gig whenever I felt like it. You see, this entertainment industry gig spoiled moi-moi, as its only dress code requirements were chic and on-trend. It was almost as if the HR manual read "Jeans? A joyous occasion...just make sure the wash is right! Leather thigh boots? Love it...leggings will do those puppies just right!"

Now, I'm back on the grind, investment banking-style. Nearly five months into this gig-but-not-really (it's perm!), I have forced myself to accept the fact that eggplant-colored mini dresses and lacy black tights with patent leather stilettos might be a bit too aggressive for this crowd.

So, navy blue, pearls and brown kitten heels are the trend of today. Yesterday, it was tailored all black with a splash of "color"...maroon underneath my little sweater.

Apologies for the snarkiness. I now may have to leave 90 percent of my accessories at home but sarcasm will not be one of them!

Until next time, kids! Stay (workplace-appropriately) fly!

Cocoa G.

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Happy New Year, kiddies!

Yes, it has been an absurdly long time but there isn't a day that Cocoa has forgotten ya.

Your girl has just been working, planning, working, strategizing, working, living, working, and planning some more.

What's in the works? Well, for starters, www.workingwhilecocoa.com is mine! As Miss Cocoa previously mentioned, I'm plotting a new site for this old blog baby. Expect the same 'laugh to keep from crying' humor with a bit of usefulness (and way more pictures!) splashed to and fro.

What else is in the works? The book...the official handbook to Working While Cocoa! So watch out now! While the web site baby will be ready for launch within the next two months, expect the book to be published (yes, I did use the "p" word) by May 2009...just in time for the new grads!

I'm so excited and amazingly blessed. I plan to post more in between, as I am so honored that so many of you continue to encourage, write and check me out here from time to time.

Anything exciting for you going on? Please fill us in...

xoxo,
Cocoa

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Obligatory Fun: Holiday Edition

While many employers in the free world have dumped the office holiday party in light of the current economic crisis, my C.S.S. (corporate slave ship) is plowing full speed ahead! Not only are we celebrating the holiday season this year (ack...I'll get to that soon), but my Wall Street firm is also on a hiring frenzy. Business is good for us. So let me go on record now as saying I am thankful and grateful.

Now... since we all have established that Cocoa is thankful and grateful to be employed, let's also assume that I am not some bitter employee who is jealous because I won't be snagging the walking papers and severance pay this year. You know, the things that actualizing passions, spending massive "me" time, traveling the world, and (ahem!) publishing your first manuscript are made of.... So, anyhow, yes, now that we're all in agreement that this Cocoa ain't bitter to punch the proverbial clock at 9:30a while her friends sleep 'til 11a, allow me to also go on record as saying "I SO do not wish to attend our Firm's holiday party."

Since I have become re-energized and serious about publishing my work, the current j-o-b is really just that for me. A place where I go to do some work and get paid. Why must I be forced to sacrifice my personal time to the obligatory fun gods with people who otherwise wouldn't make the slumber party list?

It may be foul of me, but Cocoa would also like to go on record this morning as saying that I'm happy for her current "cough, cough" thing. While it comes with a sore throat and raspy twang, today's budding sickness might just be the excuse needed to help me haul ass home directly after work tomorrow. No holiday "fun" for me? Bummer!

Cheers *terse smile*

Cocoa

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Overheard on the Job

"I made a bet with my parents and I have to be 99 pounds by January
1st. I went to the doctor today and I'm up to 101!" (exclamation
point not mine!)

Cocoa, SMDH, Girl

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Holiday parties at work won't be so bubbly for '08

Firms scaling back or abstaining
BY KATIE WANG
Star-Ledger Staff

Say au revoir to the top-shelf liquor, the 14-piece band and the tables loaded with freshly carved slices of roast beef, ham and turkey.

Employees attending office holiday parties next month may be lucky to find more than two choices of wine, a DJ and cold cuts to munch.

That is, if there's a party at all.

Office holiday parties, those annual end-of-the-year rituals intended to commend employees for their hard work and boost spirits, are suffering their own morale problems. When times were flush, some companies forked over thousands of dollars to throw lavish affairs that featured roaming magicians, Cirque du Soleil-type entertainers and a Santa Claus. But with the economy spiraling downward, many companies are either scaling back or eliminating parties altogether.

"I'm seeing that in the financial area, all holiday parties are canceled," said Patricia Lindridge-Ingber, owner of Food Company Catering and Special Events in East Hanover. Lindridge-Ingber said her company handled holiday parties for six financial firms, which she would not identify because, she said, employees have not yet learned their parties are off.

The companies that are proceeding with holiday parties are doing so frugally and cautiously. In a year in which the unemployment rate reached a 14-year high and payrolls were trimmed on a near-weekly basis, company executives want to lift spirits in a subdued and appropriate manner.

That means buffet meals instead of sit-down dinners, cotton tablecloths instead of satin and votive candles rather than fancy centerpieces. And that open-bar cocktail hour? That's usually the first thing to go.

"If they just let a substantial amount of people go, they can't celebrate. Only AIG can do that. They know how to party," joked Sheila Kelley, the president of Event Makers Inc. in Mahwah and a board member of the International Special Events Society.

Two weeks ago, Kelley mailed letters to her regular clients, which include Home Depot, Bloomingdale's, NJ Transit and Time Warner, detailing party packages she is offering this season. She said she is still waiting to hear from a dozen of them. Some, such as Time Warner, said it did not look likely they would host a party this year, Kelley said.

"It has been getting progressively worse," Kelley said. "We're all trying to say, 'It's going to be okay.'"

Kelley said some offices are forgoing the larger companywide gathering in favor of smaller, department-size celebrations that are cheaper. But even those festivities are being scaled back or canceled at some companies, including Public Service Electric & Gas.

"Some people had large dinner parties with spouses but are now having lunches with personal staff," said Paul Rosengren, a spokesperson for PSE&G. Rosengren said some departments are canceling their parties, while others are proceeding because they already placed a down payment or want to boost morale.

The effects of the cutbacks cause varying amounts of pain as they trickle down to the catering and events-planning industry. Dennis Telishack, owner of Audience Pleasers of Montclair, said the holidays are when party planners make it or break it for the year. And while business is slower and the economy is grim, he said, he has seen worse. Two of Telishack's clients were Bear Stearns and Lehman Brothers.

"The corporations have cut back, but it hasn't been like 9/11 where it fell off the cliff," Telishack said. "During that same time, a lot of event-planning companies just did not survive."

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How low can one go?

I figure that while I'm in the process of tweaking this blog, I can still post seemingly random vent sessions.

Long story short, I am one lie away from regulating on a Sharpies skank-ho in the office.

Approaching year #8 and job #5 into my lifetime of working, I can honestly say that I have YET to punch a clock where someone hasn't been a pathological lying, scheming, trifling mofo! And, honestly, after working less than a decade I can say that I am already tired. I swear that I am also one step off playing da numbas multiple times day. Perhaps Indian man's lotto counter in our building lobby and the OTB (off track betting) spots on 125th will become my new lunch "diners" of choice? Sure, narcotics and alcohol are not the answer to crazy chicks at work but Cocoa has to do something...the Visa, kitty cats or my own head may take a hit at any time!

I dunno...all I know is that a sister has to make some moves! Can someone else please share your own-the-job drama? Maybe it will help me realize that my colleagues aren't really that crazy, immoral, sinister, Godless or unforgivable at all.

Cheers!
*terse smile*
Cocoa4(a job)Change

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It's Official...

Cocoa Girl on the Job is getting a new look...and I'm not referring to design only!

After years of being tapped for suggestions, wisdom and advice (imagine that!) whereas the bain of most folks' existence comes into play, I have been feeling led to make this destination one that is more enriching, applicable and (double gasp) empowering.

With that said, CGOTJ will become all those things and a bag of chips (sorry, for showing my age)! Yet, the humor will ALWAYS be a mainstay...black folks on the job just couldn't survive without it.

Check back often...

Love much,
Cocoalicious

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Proper Etiquette for Work...NOV 5th!

No, Cocoa didn't pen this but fully ENDORSES its laughability factor!

Enjoy!

* * *
IF OBAMA WINS-HERE IS THE PROPER ETIQUETTE FOR THE WORK PLACE:

1. No crying, hugging or shouting ‘Thank you Lord’ at least not in public.

2 No high-fives at least not unless the area is clear and there are no witnesses.

3 No laughing at the McCain/Palin supporters

4 No calling in sick on November 5th. They’ll get nervous if too many of us don’t show up.

5 We’re allowed to give each other knowing winks or nods in passing. Just try to keep from grinning too hard.

6. No singing loudly, We’ve come this Far By Faith (it will be acceptable to hum softly)

7. No bringing of barbeque ribs or fried chicken for lunch in the company lunchroom for at least a week (no chittlings at all)

8. No leaving kool-aid packages at the water fountain

9. No Cupid Shuffle during breaks

10. Please no Moving on Up theme music(we are going to try to remain humble)

11.No doing the George Jefferson dance (unless you’re in your office with the door closed)

12.Please try not to yell—-BOOOO YAH!

13. Just in case you’re wondering, Doing the Running Man, cabbage patch, or a backhand spring on the highway is 100% okay.


`There's no question about it... In the next 40 years a Negro can achieve the same position that my brother has.' ... [prejudice exists and probably will continue to] ... `But we have tried to make progress and we are making progress. We are not going to accept the status quo.'
-Robert Kennedy, 1968.

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Harlem is so beautiful, baby!

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

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Definitely not a Treat: (Unsolved) Murder by the Numbers!

Forget about ghosts, ghouls, goblins and haunted houses, kiddies. Navigating the justice system while poor, unconnected, uneducated, immigrant, or a disenfranchised minority in New York City (even an Obama world) should be enough to give anybody a proper scare, especially if your name happens to be Natavia Lowery.

Three hundred and sixty six days ago today, Natavia Lowery awoke to what has proven to be a never-ending nightmare: the horrific bludgeoning of her boss, the wealthy, quasi-famous realtor “to the stars” Linda Stein, and a witch-hunting DA pressed to find the a killer to calm Park Avenue’s most-restless natives. Ten days after Stein’s murder, Natavia was arrested. Now, 355 days later, the DA's office still hasn't produced one speck of evidence that she is the murderer. Yet, she still sits on Riker’s Island.

Still not scared? Great! Read on to see if you can help the District Attorney Robert M. Morgenthau add up the numbers and solve the crime! Because, let’s face it, citizens: one year into this ordeal, with no murder weapon, no witnesses nor evidence, he clearly needs all the help he can get!

1...gruesome murder of a beyond-weathly, hella connected, Upper East Side socialite.
366…days since the crime.
0…the number of murder weapons found.
1...temporary worker (Natavia), perhaps in the wrong place at the wrong time.
60...the number of days Natavia worked for Stein before the crime took place.
0...drops of blood found on Natavia’s garments worn the day of Stein’s murder.
90...the number of minutes Natavia left Stein (alive) before she was murdered.
1...illegally obtained confession.
18...hours Natavia Lowery faced interrogation without food or water.
0...the number of telephone calls detectives allowed Natavia to her lawyer or parents during said interrogation.
1...the number of fetuses Natavia was carrying while facing interrogation sans food & water for 18 hours.
2...parents she left behind once arrested.
0...children in her parents’ reach now that she is incarcerated.
3...disinherited surviving offspring who refuse to cooperate with authorities.
1...number of penniless, estranged children staying with Stein at the time of her murder.
3...number of times said penniless, unemployed, estranged child changed her alibi to police.
3…number of judges who refused to move forward with the case after reviewing the questionable “confession” video.
1…number of private investigators hired by Natavia’s parents to uncover personal ties between a judge and the deceased.
1…number of judges forced to step down from the case following the investigation.
200...the lowest number of people trying to follow Jesus who showed up at Natavia’s March court date to offer silent support and prayers.
1...number of motions filed by the DA’s office the following week requesting to ban such supporters (silent or not) from the courthouse.
Many...the number of lies the DA included in this report seeking to justify the ban.
1...number of times the DA was shot down.
0…times (out of several attempts) that the judge has denied her bail.
1…the number of times a Senior Editor at the Daily News unexpectedly scrapped his writer’s story that sought to introduce new evidence in defense of Natavia.
1…the number of times The New York Joke and its Daily Muse actually published a story that suggested someone else is responsible for Stein’s death.
29…the page number that story happened to appear on.
8…months Natavia was pregnant in prison.
2…number of 16-ounce bottles of water she was allowed to purchase per day while pregnant in Riker’s.
112…days since Baby Natavia was born in Riker’s.
112…days that Baby and mother Natavia have been separated since her birth.
2…number of years a newborn can live with its mother in prison.
0…number of months Baby Natavia has lived with her mom in prison.
2…number of hours each week that Natavia gets to spend time with her newborn baby.
3...almost the number of hours it takes to commute to Riker’s and clear security.
1...publicity-hungry, self-seeking/promoting defense attorney.
1...replacement of said lawyer.
1 (more)…prayerfully the number of people who hopefully just sent up another prayer for justice on behalf of Natavia and Linda Stein!

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Overcoming the United Front @ Work

So many of us have seen it before.... One person's personal problem with you seems to become an issue for EVERYBODY in the office. Small issues never go away and seem to spread (and grow) like wildfire from manager to manager on the job. A tiff with a peer is seemingly (and unfairly) adopted by all your colleagues. No need to fret, Cocoa is looking to tackle this one for ya and herself...

...BUT asks that you stay tuned. Girly needs time to write:)

Much love, peace and sanity at work today!

XOXO,
Cocoa Girl

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Your Purpose is Not a Profession...part deux.

Whew!

*wipes my brow...mightily*

I'm presently in this wonderful "class" at my worship home covering this wonderfully amazing book that happens to cover topics such as our talents, our dreams, God's tailor-made plans for each of us to change this world, and how to embrace all of the above. In class last week, our pastor stated that a "calling is not a career." On Sunday, he stated "your purpose is not a profession."

As someone who has been rather, um, career obsessed, I struggled a bit to understand what he meant. So, I did what hopefully we all would do when we question, struggle with, or disagree with the validity of a point - especially whereas our spirituality is concerned - I asked for clarification. Below is some of what I found out. I hope it somehow helps you take a little pressure off yourself, too.

xoxo,
Rachel

BTW, if you would like to view this full discussion, which was spawned by a young adult's question about two seemingly unrelated passions that she possesses, for Law and The Arts, befriend FCBC YAM on Facebook and read on!

* * *
[Your calling is not a 'career' - compliments of our youth and young adult pastor]

A calling is something that we all have if we believe that we are created by and are children of God. A calling CAN be understood in terms of passion, career/vocation, life's purpose; but should never be REDUCED to any such term.

It can involve your career, but is more than your career. Our careers can be the vehicles through which our callings are realized. I may have the same calling as a youth social worker who uses spiritual principles, but we have different careers/vocations that naturally manifest our callings. I truly believe that if we follow our callings (and if you don't know what that is...follow your true passions) we will end up in the "career/life work" that is right for us.

The difficulty is that we may not realize [our calling/career/life work] until the end! So we have to learn how to LIVE now!!!

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Food for Thought

"Your purpose is not a profession; your calling isn't a career."

"Pray to God, but hammer away."

Happy Monday,

Cocoa Puff

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One Thing...

...profound that I read this past week.

"Is it possible that you lack the focus that drives you to the path God has created for you to uniquely walk? If you're going to create the life of your dreams, if you're going to discover the life God created you to live, you have to learn how to say no to all the other options. And the tough choices aren't between good and evil, but between all the equally good options out there that are simply not the right paths for you.

You have to allow even beautiful dreams to die when they are not supposed to be
yours.

To make even one dream come to reality, many other dreams have to be sacrificed on the altar of your imagination."

-- Except compliments of Chapter 5 "FOCUS" in Wide Awake by Erwin McManus

Have a lovely weekend, my lovelies:)

Cocoa
PS - expect more of "ONE THING..." from Cocoalicious

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Monday Madness

You see...it's ish like this that can make workabees snap on a Monday.

If you are having a difficult time understanding Cocoa's rage, allow me to explain. I live in NYC, so like millions of other employed folk, I catch the subway to work each day. Although the seats are nice and bright orange with a nice little RAISED tan strip down the middle folks still manage to hog more than portion of chair. Enter Exhibit A.

If you look closely, you will notice that homey's leg is positioned at an angle, versus being pointed straight ahead. Even worse, Mr. Jerk had his legs spread eagle across the extra seat like a damn Pro (if ya catch my drift). I. sat. down. any. way. Would you know that homey then had the nerve to eyeball Cocoa? So, I pushed my leg even further toward the left, enlarging my territory. Yet, it wasn't too long before I relented. I'm not one for touching limbs with strangers!

You may be asking ask 'why didn't she just say 'do you mind?'. Well, I prefer to flash folks 'the look' when I can get away with it...which is never at work! So I gotta get It in when I can!

Have a non-angry Monday kiddies!

Cocoa
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

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Back on Monday...

I know...que trife! But Cocoa still loves ya!

:)

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"Black' Friday

Cocoa pulled a seriously negrodian move this morning. Although your girl is AT LEAST 15 minutes late for the job, she opted to take the local (slow) train...all the way to the plantation!

Anyone famil with NYC's rush hour madness knows that the pic above is near a pipe dream....that is, unless you are running late and positively, absolutely don't give a damn. This would be me this a.m. It is not that I do not care, rather I just needed a break from being elbowed in the boob and sullied by other commuters' dirty backpacks that have probably been exposed to more slime, grime and nastiness than Kim Kardashian's sheets.

Since I gave up coffee today's detour will be my morning pick me up. Let's just hope (for rent's sake) that it doesn't become a matter of habit or addiction too!

Cocoa

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Aww...

A cute little treat from our company president! Quiet as kept, Halloween is Cocoa, La Christian's favorite little pagan holiday!

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'Yay!' Thursdays

Maybe it's the sun. Maybe it's the unseasonably warm 70s. Perhaps it's
my canary yellow cardigan or even Ne-Yo. All I know is that 'I just
can't help myself'...I'm in a fantabulous mood...

-Six weeks into the job, Cocoa is still employed...yay!
-I received confirmation that Public Cubenemy #1 is for sure not to be
trusted...and to sho' nuff stay away from that broad...yay!
-I keep waking up at 4a but my energy is high...yay!
-A great agent wants to review my book proposal...yay!
-The iPeezy-pod just hit 'Bad Mamma Jamma'...my theme
song...triple-thousand yay!

Sorry for all the glee...I pray that you have it too!

BTW, I'm still on the job of this blog...just working out some changes.

Much love,
Cocoa

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Subway Fun: Throw Your Needles In the Air!

*waving*

Just a hump day quickie to say that you are not forgotten! The new j-o-b is becoming more and more like the good ole' C.S.S. (Corporate Slave Ship) by the day! Yet, do not fret: Cocoa will be back on the regular soon AND I even thought enough of you to bless your Hump Day with this wonderfully soothing idea for your morning commute:



That's right: knitting is the new morning latte! I mean, if cornrowed, double-iced out, hoodie rocking youth from Harlem are knitting on the C train then you KNOW this 'ish about to be the fire for '09!

You read it here, 1st!

Cocoa, la trend setter

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My New J-O-B: The Terrordome?

It appears that Cocoa's brand new black trench - her first black
trench in probably five years - was pilfered on the job. Un-PC or
not, my first suspect was the cleaning lady who has been trying to
cozy up for the past two weeks. Yet, I cannot even be certain it is
her. In this economy and labor market-not!, it seems like anything can
go. Give it 10 years or so and we'll all be "Mad Max"-ing for
survival!

Perhaps I should just begin detaching from all my worldly things now
and start rocking dirty, tattered and torn cloths with Ugg-like boots
to match? Maybe, just maybe, since I'm already into donning the
"extra" hair, I can even try on one of those Tina Turner wigs for
size?!?

Naw, I think I'd rather mope and go shopping for a new coat at lunch.
Great movie or not, Cocoa cannot recall one cute item of clothing in
that flick...not one.

Cheer(s) up,
Cocoa

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4 My Wall St. Thugs & Thugettes

T.G.I.F. Kiddies!

Have a great weekend and remember to pour out a lil' Pinot for our investment banking homies who ain't (no longer) here...

See ya on Monday!

Cocoa Girl

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When Beckies Attack

It's official, do not trust anybody named Becky, Amanda or Jen ESPECIALLY at work. Never!

Don't get Cocoa wrong - or get it twisted - it's not that I trust anyone on the job. Rather, more or less, I just don't give a damn in varying degrees. For example, brown-girl-me may let Susie Q. know that I'm not a fan of Bob Cobb's antics. Yet, whether Susie stays mum is neither here or there por moi. Once spoken, I detach from my words pretty easily. So it doesn't ruffle my feathers if somebody else wants to try them on for size.

What does irk the brown off me, however, are plain 'ol crazy, get-ahead-by-any-means-even-if-it-only-means-a-promo-to-head-shelf-duster mofos who would sever your throat for a pause-length pat on the back. Enter Becky...whose REAL name actually is Becky, ya know. Coincidental? Cocoa thinks not.

It's only week 5 and this chick has already tried to throw me under the Mack truck. NO exaggeration. Long story short, I recently joined her team to help its members with several market tours. At first, she suspciously held onto all projects but started trying to toss me a few bones once things began slipping through the cracks. Yesterday she delegates to me a new project (which I was supposed to be doing any damn way!) and asks that I send her a draft. I sent it to her. Then, chicky wanted me to stop by her desk for commentary/feedback...on a templated-paragraph, ya'll! Um...I. did. not. go. Heck, I was swamped, too! So, she wrote me back (key mental note) and stated that we could meet in the morning and distribute the draft.

La Manana comes and chica sends me some irate, faux-upset email about how the task was urgent and needed to be handled right away AND accused me of not managing my time effectively...all in writing! She basically tried to paint me a lazy you-know-what who failed to negotiate a deadline. Whether in anger or sheer stupidity, senorita forgot one important fact: her heiferish-behind emailed me - with smileys! -stating that the project was not a rush. Sooo...all I had to do is respond with utter "confusion" and gladly redirect her gaze toward our email chain from the previous day...in its entirety!

Aww, yes...cut and paste is Cocoa's latest BFF, that is, right after my girl 'CC.'

It's kind of sad, though. I cannot for the life of me figure out what made this Becky go bananas! I do not have ANY hopes or desires to get promoted into her spot, nor am I competitive with this chick. *smdh* ya'll...*smdh.*

Cocoa, La Clueless

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Obligatory "Fun!"

*terse smile*

Cocoa's presence was requested (required?) at some big annual
investor's dinner tonight. As you can imagine, ya girl is thrilled.
So much that 72 hours later, I'm still trying to invent a story
compelling and convincing enough to win me a "pass the dry chicken
breast and proceed straight home" card.

Tonight's soiree...not! represents yet another element of The Game
that I was not prepared to play. Again, could somebody please inform the
boss powers that be that Cocoa is in it for the pay, $20 co pay, and
free dental check ups?

God, if you are reading my blog today please don't pay me much mind. I
know that I'm immensely blessed to have this gig. It's just that
spending time with the colleagues after hours has never been my glass
of Pinot.

Cocoa

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How is this possible?

I never thought this would happen. I feel so lost, so uprooted, so
sad, so tortured...

I forgot the Nano at home today! Of course, I only realized this
after I hopped on the local train, which takes an additional 10
minutes to reach the j-o-b. Not to mention the fact that once I get
there, I will not have any white noise to help me ignore the same of
the <I>human</i> variety.

Okay, enough about that...let's move onto some commuting fun! Have
you ever seen a person - okay, let Cocoa keep it real...a woman - get
on the train all frazzled and drop her shyt straight to the ground,
only to start tearing through it like a junkie digging for a rock in a
hay stack? This chick is doing that much as I type. Now, I must admit
that I peeped the unusual clean <i>appearance</i> of this particular
subway car, but still....EWW! What could have been at the bottom of
that bag important enough for honey dip to toss her purse (which by
default touches her body...and probably her bed, table and desk too!)
duffle bag and newspaper on the grimy-A floor subway car floor???

If I snap a photo, you could be the judge. (Note to self: the 'razzi
skills are slacking). Doesn't matter, tho. Chickie was is clearly one
of those always-frazzled types. Her pocketbook has long straps, yet
she is carrying it under its bottom it like an over sized toddler.
Mess is spilling out the top of it and her duffle bag is about to
topple her behind over the stairs.

Okay. My stop is here...let me run. Apparently, I'm very cranky
(critical?) sans my morning music!

Cocoa, la commuter critical

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Um, yes...

...Cocoa Girl IS rocking the Shanghai-hoochie red to the stodgy investment baking job. I'm muy over The Game and the politics of trying to get ahead on the clock, which is why I found myself a tad discouraged by a "Becky's" (real name) attempts to undermine me in the
name of competition.

Granted, I am the Johnetta-come-lately - the newest girl on the job - but I didn't fall off the turnip green truck yesterday. I know Reputation Warfare, (Stellar Work) Credit Fraud, and a
Highest-Praise Hijacking when I see them. Corporate crimes all coming from a hard-up former assistant who is trying to prove herself worthy as a new analyst.

Again, as the rouge mani shows, I'm through with the pursuit of
nothingness at work, so I r-e-f-u-s-e to play this game. Although, Ms
HCIC is urging me to do otherwise.

*sigh*

COCOA

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I [heart] the only other Cocoa on my job...imagine that!

Week 3 and the H.C.I.C. (Head Cocoa In Charge) has FINALLY returned to the office. Not quite sure why I exclaimed 'finally,' as we do not even work together. Now, before you go stamping me a 'stalker,' understand: we may not work directly together BUT we do work on the same, small team. Got it? Good, because Cocoa does many things on the job but Single Black Female'ing isn't one of them.

After several years of toiling away alongside many zany (ghetto?), opportunistic (Oreo?) Cocoas, I can say that I wholeheartedly love this one...just fine! She is confident, secure, insanely smart, well-coiffed, (hate to use this word) polished, and 100% authentic Cocoa. There isn't a drop of artificial flavoring in her mix.

As a matter of fact, Cocoarella likes her so much that I walked her to the corner ...and to the next corner two blocks down to help her (gasp!) hail a cab. Again, I just think she is a doll. A true rags to riches success story, spliced with a rough child hood, bouts of cancer, an untimely divorce, grassroots voter registration tactics (staged in the South), a new curly fro (in Finance!), and Chanel, LVMH, Fendi and everybody else to make the production truly global...and fierce! LOL.

"If you ever need anything or anyone is bothering, you can always call me," she says. Right after she explains to me that she is 'technically' consulting for the firm now. "So, with this new schedule, often times, I'm not even working from home," she finishes.

Damn she be paid...she got it made!

Cocoa Ed

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Some nuggets for the soul on this Hump day...

No, I'm not giving away free Mickey D's coupons, brown people! Cocoa is pushing spiritual food this morning.

Happy Hump Day!

"God sees every one of us; He creates every soul...for a purpose."
-- John Henry Newman

"Leave results to God."
-- Elizabeth Barrett Browning

"God doesn't call the equipped, He equips the called."

"Your calling isn't about you. It's about God's need."
-- Pastor Michael A. Walrond, Jr.

Believe it and just do it.

Cocoa

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Natavia Update

Hello Mah Kiddies...a few things first!


1. Cocoa is back on the job...you know what means...more Becky-coated drama coming right up!
2. I actually REALLY work with a "Becky" this time! Go figure!
3. One of my senior managers is a bonafide "HCIC" (Head Cocoa in Charge)!

Enough about moi-moi for now....Cocoalicious has more important things to post about...like the injustice Natavia Lowery is still facing.

The name may ring a bell to you because she is the 20-something, (former) temporary personal assistant bludgeoning a wealthy, "celebrity" real estate broker to death. Nine months after she was first arrested and even all of this has come into play, Natavia still sits behind bars. Yet, while still imprisoned, awaiting a court date that the DA's office continually pushes back with no regard for the fact that they don't have a case against Natavia. Saving face and mega punitive legal costs is a beyotch Bob Morgenthau. Huh?

So, I digressed...back in mid-July, Natavia gave birth to a healthy, beautiful little baby girl. I had the extreme pleasure of meeting Baby Natavia at worship service last Sunday. All the important stuff aside...I must say that honey (baby) dip is gorgeous! Clearly, she gets it from her mama...and grandmama and gramps, too! She is even rocking a serious mohawk, au natural of course. Not only is she an on-trend baby, but several months into what probably has been the most challenging ordeal of her mother's life, she is an ON-TIME baby! I cannot even imagine how Baby Natavia's arrival has brought more joy and light in her mommy's world.

That's all I can share for now. Please continue to pray for Natavia. Her faith and outlook remains strong. Yet, don't forget to pray for justice for the deceased, Ms. Linda Stein, as well. Ask God to light a fire under the unlcassy Morgenthau's arse to find her real killer, or to at least pursue one of those folks (daughters?) whose alibis changed three times.

Justice for one of the victims very well may result in justice for both!

Blessings,
Cocoa4Natavia

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R.I.P. Bernie, a true dream chaser

Surely by now we've all heard the news that our irreverent, beloved and one-of-a-kind Bernie Mac has died. Below is a short bit from The Chicago Tribune's final tribute to its native son.

His story, which can be found in greater detail via http://www.chicagotribune.com/ is hella inspiring.

Bernie chased his career dream from 10 years old. Although it took him 20 + years to taste a piece of that Mainstream pie, he never gave up. He didn't drop his craft to keep driving the Wonder Bread druck in hopes of "making" head driver or manager. He also didn't kick it to the curb in exchange for a GED, BA or MBA, as these distintions could have easily made him more acceptable to others. He didn't even stop his art to obtain his Series 7 license on the job to obtain a 5-figure bonus and all the material and shallow trapings that come with it (so, I'm telling on myself now). For more than 20 years, Bernie stuck with his craft and made his dreams a reality.
If that's not heart, then I don't know what is. God bless you, Bernie.

* * *
Excerpt from the Chicago Tribune

"Before his 10th birthday, Mac was performing comedy standup, honing his skills on CTA trains and parks before graduating to well-known haunts like the Regal Theater and the Cotton Club. He came to a realization during those first years as a struggling comic: If he could kill in front of a black crowd, he could kill in any crowd.

"Black audiences are hard," he told the New York Times in 2002. "You got to come with a little extra to satisfy them."

He also learned that comedy isn't a lucrative business when you are starting out. During those lean years in the '80s, Mac drove a Wonder Bread delivery truck to pay the bills.

Life changed dramatically for Mac when he was 32. He won the Miller Lite comedy search that year and that performance took him to the standup stage, which ultimately led to regular performances on popular shows like HBO's "Def Comedy Jam."

In a few short years, he was able to put a stamp on this tell-it-like-it-is brand of comedy that audiences had come to know him for. He was a hit on the stage, delivering sordid tales of his early life growing up on Chicago's South Side.

His work hit home to the African American audience -- his aggressive, brash comedy had a down home feel to it, tackling everything from family life to black romantic relationships -- yet Mac was able to cross it over, connecting with a majority entertainment scene.

"When I started in comedy in the clubs in 1977, blacks couldn't do certain clubs -- not because they were segregated. They just didn't want to put the [black comics] out there. In Los Angeles, the clubs would have a black night. People would say, 'Why don't you come by and do something?' I would say, 'I'm a comedian -- don't put a title on me.' Don't limit yourself. How you start is how you finish," he told the Tribune in 2007. "If you let people put tags on you, you'll never be able to remove them. You've got to make people respect you. Respect is bigger than dollars and cents."

***

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Thanks for the Inspiration, Kanye!

First things first, kiddies: THANKS SO MUCH for the love! I've been slipping on the blog tip for a solid year now, and yet I still receive requests to get back on the job! Thanks for letting Cocoalicious know that she is still very much loved.


Truth be told, there isn't a day that I don't think about my blog baby, or writing for that matter. I have a fierce, first-of-its-kind manuscript, emails from agents and editors, and my own Spirit reminding me - daily - what God put me on this earth to do. Anyone who is a writer (being "published" means nada, so I don't bother to add "aspiring") will tell you that we're forced to glean inspiration from whatever source possible... awful reality programming, stupid comments on the #2 train, Auntie Opie and other news sources, or even catty, crazy or drug-addicted colleagues (ahem...yours truly). Yet, my latest dose of "move b!tch, get out your way" came by way of a recovering self-asborbed rapper who used to make the eyes roll streamlessly: Kanye "I'm the best!" West. The stage? The Glow In The Dark tour at Madison Square Garden.


My girl called him a theatrical genius. I kind of agree. While I have always loved Kanye's music and about 50 percent of his style (some shit just needs to be left in the 80s) , his passion is what killed me last night. It transfixed me, knocked me upside the head, bound my gaze and me captive for the rest of the show. Sure, K's a passionate entertainer. Yet I became his new #1 (billionth) fan as I stood there meditating on how he named, laid and claimed his life's dream, a la "I'ma get on MTV, mama. I'ma, I'ma put shit dooo-wn..." Not to mention the fact that the energy in MSG was THICK. It was like Kanye threw a self-congratulatory party and invited everyone to pop a bottle and celebrate...with and on him! Matter of fact, unintentional or not, that's exactly what Glow In the Dark felt like: one ordinary, ambitious, average-height dude's quest to capture his dreams. Everyone present bought into it, including me. It were as if I had been routing for K. this whole time. Like he were my favorite co-worker who I wanted to make "manager," or an abnormally old intern busting his ass to land a paid gig so that him and his son could get off the streets. We cheered him on and so he won, and so we cheered him on some more!


Dramatic of me, you say? Per usual I confess. Yet, you get my point. Kanye's show was on fire and, because of it all, I'm all the more inspired.


Convention is for the birds. So, thanks to Kanye and his incredibly ghastly MadMax concert get-up, I'll gladly declare - at for least today - that I'm not that fly. Now let me pray for the sake of my gift that I keep things grounded. Oh, and don't forget to intercede for our boy KWeezy, too.


God bless,
Cocoa Girl

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I'se a trying!

I'm trying to make my way back to you, babes. Really.

Life is just, um, kind of busy. And it is a smidge hard to write about work when you are not (um, again) holding down a nine to five. I mean, I'm currently freelancing for self but chronicling the pursuits of my day is nowhere near as fun as sharing the craziness that can ensue by way of colleagues, bosses and schizo temp workers. An excuse, yes. But true? Double yes.

Sooo...let's make a deal. As soon as I either 1). snag another gig with officekind or 2). decide I am ready to poke fun at myself, I'll be back with a little sumthin sumthin for ya.

Until then, peace, love and manuscripts!

XOXO,
[bland?] cocoa girl

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Okay, so call me Pinnocchio-esha...

...or Pinnochio-tay, or some other ethnic variation of the little lying white boy. I am not back yet...but I still love ya!

When I'm done with being done I'll be back. I know: doesn't make much sense to me either!

God bless,
Cocoacita

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Casual Fridays: Accused @ Work!

What does a mooching-yet-soon-to-be-excommunicated daughter, two "newspapers," and a few stepped-down/removed judges have in common? A major desire to cover up and distort the truth regarding famed real estate agent Linda Stein's death. At the center of this ridiculously insane won't hold water in a jar cover-up? Natavia Lowery, an unlucky temporary employee from Brooklyn accused of bludgeoning Ms. Stein to death with (get this) a yoga bar.

A YOGA BAR???

Glad to know the NYPD is finally willing to lift us out of that switch-blade, sawed-off, 9mm rut! Now if the goons could only manage to find the murder weapon or - how about this - the person who actually murdered Ms. Stein. I know, I know what you are saying: Let's not get carried away with that justice-thing, Cocoa!

Other interesting facts about the case, surely to come out during Natavia's many-times postponed court date, which is now slated for MARCH 26TH @ NOON:

1. The prosecution claims Natavia killed Ms. Stein. Yet, the building security camera shows Natavia leaving for the day at 1:15p. Pretty interesting since Stein's daughter reported speaking to her mother that same day at 2p. Hella interesting since the coroner's report places Stein's death far later...say at around 3 o'clock...

2. Stein's doorman first told police that he escorted Natavia out of the building and saw/spoke to a still-alive Ms. Stein. Now, all of a sudden, this same doorman has a case of amnesia and cannot remember if he actually mentioned this to the boys in blue. 1 point for Team Satan!

3. Back to bullet #1... Cocoa failed to mention that Natavia's defense attorney is investigating the evidence presented to the grand jury to determine if the District Attorney's office withheld the Stein daughter's 2p pre-murder chat with mum, which could explain why pregnant Natavia was denied bail. Stay classy, Bob Morgenthau & camp! Stay classy.

4. Hate to be redundant, but no murder weapon has been found....five months after Stein's death.

5. To this end, the prosecution has zero, cero, zip, nada evidence linking Natavia to the murder scene...of course, besides the forced (illegal?) confession, which (Cocoa hears) has "I was written by someone else" written all over it. Hilarious but Natavia's defense attorney remarked that if the NYPD would have kept her any longer (than the 18+ hours) she would have told them where Osama Bin Laden is riding dirty!

6. Back to that video cam...The only item seen in a blood-free, frazzle-free Natavia's hands as she left Stein's building (wearing the same exact clothing, mind you) was an evening clutch.... an itsy, bitsy purse, fellas.

7. While The New York Joke and it's even bigger joke, the Daily Muse, have mercilessly reported that personal assistant Natavia frequently withdrew money from Stein's account, neither source has ever bothered to mention that girly did so under the orders of her boss...on a regular schedule!

Not common, you say? Well, this temp worker Cocoa uses her manager's AMEX on the regular - and on command - to buy everything from Cold Eaze to Chanel lipcolor to a $600 couture!

8. After both tabloids (Cocoa's euphemism of the day) spent months frying Natavia within their folds, neither gave any attention to point #1's timeline bomb. Oh, wait a min. The Joke did include a teeny weeny blurb about it...on page 29. Not surprising after this same paper's editor without explanation canned his writer's story raising all of these conflicting issues a few months ago.

9. Stein's broke, live-in daughter - who recently returned to NYC after failing to launch a start-up film company - changed her allibi to police THREE TIMES. One version apparently placed her at the home with a boyfriend who does not even exist!

God willing, Cocoa plans to be there with the hundreds more to show God's love and support for Natavia on March 26th. Until then, peace, love and many prayers for Natavia Lowery!

Cocoa

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Time to move on

At the risk of glamorizing a stereotype, I must be honest....

"Indolent" is Monday's word of the day and, therefore, from this current temp job I must go.

Call me lazy, but working a temp assignment that actually requires me to do, well, um, work slightly defeats my current purpose. The whole point of my present temporary streak is to avoid the stress and the mental/emotional chains secondary to owning an employee ID number.

More problematic por moi is how this assignment has morphed into a total odd-ends/Girl Friday/Kizzy Shalom, the little Hebrew slave girl nightmare. Late afternoon runs for photocopies, new tubes of *interesting* Chanel lipcolors and Cold Eaze are killing my writing time.

What will life be like where I end up? Only God knows. But a girl's gotta (pray) and do what a girl's gotta do.

Cocoa "Already missing the casual dress code and 9:30a start time" Girl

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Temporarily Annoyed

My faux coworkers have me quite agitated today. One is sickly, which is not bothersome in and of itself. Yet the way she keeps spreading negativity into our partially sunny, unseasonably warm, 60-plus degrees in early March existence is enough to make Cocoa cut her with my eyes. Her illness does not require all that gloom and doom. I am sickly and awaiting my physical healing as well, but damn. Give us a break, please. She said she sees no hope. I replied things will get better to which girly actually copped an attitude with me. I'll be damned if I try that again. Perhaps next time she says it is all over, I will quip "Yeah, you probably should start doing all those things you always wanted to do in life but never got the chance to do...PRONTO!!!!"

Next up: Little Miss STBF... who, by the way, actually deserves to be fired. I previously discounted her boss, Anna Wintour-not!, as cruel and conniving for attempting to replace her vacationing assistant with temporary-worker me. Weeks later, I still do not want the job; however, it appears that her current assistant does not want it either. She never completes tasks when requested and/or required (thanks Facebook & MySpace). AWN (high, high, high-ranking executive) has to hound her for updates, which girly never has in tow. She fails to handle the most-simple tasks on a daily basis. It boggles the mind that sweetie is still employed....to the tune of about $80K/year, mind you.

I guess (private) education really does pay.

Is it really only Tuesday,
Cocoa Girl

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Gotta be a C4UC Classic!

Cocoa has been on the verge of tears since arriving to work this morning, for two very different reasons. One is a better suited for the other blog, while the second reason has can’t be real/gotta be a script written all over….

The Scene: The “Industry” (Entertainmentland for the unassuming)
Characters: High-maintenance, high-level female executive; her assistant and her assistant’s assistant (Moi-Moi!)
Act 1: HMHLFE is “accidentally” running late for a meeting on her floor with fellow Industry bigwigs who stood her up the previous week.

HMHLFE leaves her office & approaches the HA’s desk; HAA (me-me!) looks on…

(Dropping her Grande Skinny Latte on the desk, an EMPTY-HANDED Bosslady chimes)
“HA –Will you follow me in the conference room with this…please?”

(HA, on the verge of WTF???) “Um, sure…no problem…?”

HMHLFE leads the way toward the glass walls & door enclosed conference room. A confused HA kung-fu grips the Starbucks like the Holy Grail and trails closely behind.

Upon reaching the glass-walled conference room brimming with Industry bigwigs, HMHLFE enters and lets the door (also glass a.k.a. see-through!) slam in HA’s face.

A confused (facially bruised?) HA struggles to let herself in the door and stumbles inside embarassed. Scurrying toward her big shot, she drops the cup and runs back to her desk – still confused as to what transpired.

Only in the Cubicle World, kids. Only in the Cubicle World.

TGTT (Thank God This is Temporary!)
Cocoa

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Empathy: Need Not Apply

While I have much sympathy for little Miss STBF, empathy, which requires a good amount of identification, is something that Cocoa clearly cannot afford to offer homegirl.

Looming termination, dissatisfactory job performance and new resumes confidentially (hand) delivered to Bosslady abound, and girly still has enough trust (naivete?) and confidence (money) to buy a $3,000 camera.

No, she is not a freelance photographer. She does dream of becoming one (try again). And, no, she is not enrolled in a photography class, visually chronicling the last days of her dying grandmother. She simply takes pictures as a h...o...b...b...y.

Wish I could reckon my need for a steady income to a matter of frolic.

Cocoalicious,
Haterade...so nutritious!

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'Denial' ain't just...

... a river in Egypt. -- Mark Twain

At what point does granting complete trust become a case for naivete (denial?) and withholding it in full constitute paranoia or fear? The latter represents a delicate balance, sort of like a tight rope walk, I have never been able to negotiate, particularly while on the job and faced with the threat of losing it.

I have left (euphemism of the day) a few jobs in my career and none of the departures have been on good terms. The beginning of the end in every situation usually started with a minor setback - a missed deadline, a tiff, hurt feelings (on my or another's part), etc. The minor became major with the slight mushrooming into a slap. In the end, my strong performances, wit and charm were not enough to undo the damage wrought by fear and mistrust, which bred paranoia. No wonder they say fear is of the devil.

This all brings me to my current faux-employer, The Temp Gig. I started a few weeks ago on what was supposed to be a seven-day assignment. Nearly 30 days later, I am still here and marveling at the faith & loyalty of the permanent (for not too much longer?) assistant. Midway through week #2, I caught wind that her girly's stay on the job would be short lived. Apparently, I very much so tickeled Boss Lady's fancy while her assistant was out frolicking in the waves of Ipanema. For days, I hemmed and hawed, hawed and hemmed about whether to/how to/when to, break the news to homegirl. After a repeat reminder "stay in my lane," I decided against blowing the whistle. Instead, I committed myself to prayer - for her and her fed up Boss Lady - and resolved to be truthful if ever questioned about the situation.

Nearly an two hours after my second prayer for the two of them in two weeks, the STBF (soon-to-be-fired) asked me if I had any reason to think she would be let go.

*Me: blank stare*

She fine-tuned her approach: had I heard anything about her losing her job?

*Me: head tilt, both eyes up and to the right, sigh that questioned, "Well....what do you mean?"

Within a few short minutes, girly was up to speed. Yet, her response to it all has me spellbound to this moment.

After carefully considering the situation for a day or two, The STBF decided to stay. She confronted her boss about the "confidential" delivery from Human Resources which contained a resume for her position. Boss Lady alleged that she isn't looking to replace her but is looking to supplement her contribution with another executive assistant. Yeah, I know what you are thinking. That realtor you met last week with the slick-backed hair, skinny tie and crocodile cowboy boots might be telling the truth about the dirt cheap desert property in Alaska. But seriously, in The STBF's own words:

"You know what, I was a little frazzled when I left for vacation. She was really upset that she was being left alone with a temp worker who she had never met. So, she probably just got really mad, jumped the gun and told HR to find her a new employee. I am sure is calming down now that I'm back and everything will be fine. She told me that she is not looking to replace, so I'll go ahead and believe her. I mean, why would she go through all of this just to cover up a lie? If she does fire me, oh well, I'll get another job."

The level of trust that girly has placed in another - whether her boss or God - has blown my mind. It also has drawn me to question the trust that I have failed to place in others...God included.

Stupid or just trusting, I don't know....

Cocoa

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The 'Golden Rule' @ work?

I was greeted at the office this morning by a few things unexpected. One of which stuck out greatly and caused me to question whether my intervention would serve to help or humiliate the person involved.

The situation at hand involved a woman's coif...particularly a Cocoa girl's coif. Not that our colleagues of other persuasions do not (over?) value the state of their hair-do, too. I understand and want to acknowledge that "hair" is a touchy topic for all ladies brown. Anyhow, girly stepped in from her morning coffee run with a cow lick so high that it surely was tickling Jesus' toes. I contemplated telling her, but then decided against it. Fifteen percent of my decision to remain mute was because I did not want to humiliate her. The other 85 percent? I was due to hook a sharp right into the pantry for my first cup of joe. An unexpected detour could have proven catastrophic for everyone.

Forgive me, but I am kind of attached to caffeine.

Cocoa Girl

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Still on the job...

As Cocoa reported last week, I learned by way of a not-so-bright human resources lackee by way of a tough manager who (clearly) doesn't give a damn that my temporary boss-heavyweight is looking to lighten her load. The resolution or - depending on your outlook - problem is Boss Lady's current assistant. Let's cal her Pinkslip Patty.

After a short seven months in relationship with Patty, BL has decided that she is ready to try something new. Now, while Cocoa does qualify according to that Sanaa/Simon Baker standard, it's not even really that deep. BL just wants an upgrade and her current girl has got to go. So what's this unemployed chick's problem? One, I am not interested. Two, I am not interested. Three, I really like Patty, which explains why I my big mouth has have felt so trapped the past week. Oh, and the fact that Mistress BL still has yet to fire the girl! Goodness grief, people. The past week of my work life has been like that Sean Penn/death row flick “Dead Man Walking," I mean, sans the dark prison cells, soul-saving nun, and seriously disturbing subject matter. At least, it was until yesterday...

"Cocoa, can I ask you something...and you totally don't have to say anything if you don't feel comfortable," PP said.

"Sure, what's up," asked I, knowing full well what's up.

"Have you heard anything a-b-o-u-t...m...e.....?"

I will not go on to bore you with the ins and outs of this inquisition. Just know that our dearest Patty has been warned. And, not because of my big mouth! I am Christian, when asked a question I shall not lie.

Cocoa

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Shh!

If Cocoa had to assign a word to describe my life right now it would be 'mum.' Not as in mother, although I do count "The Girls" as my actual children. More so 'mum' as in hush!

I'm rather low-key nowadays. Probably not news to you. After all, some of us are not into promoting every aspect of our lives via an online journal. Yet this graf's opening statement is a significant thing for moi-moi for a few reasons. I used to promote myself and clients on a daily basis. Let's not even go there about how I created (and grew) a popular blog to service thousands of readers each month.

See...even in trying to tell you how low-key is my new black, I still managed to promote me...me...me.

Faux self-badgering aside, I really am on the "low" right now. Girly is not flute-tilting like yesteryear, nor have I bothered to let anyone in blog land know that flavor is back on the scene. I like this whole blogging for myself thing. Feels good to air my opinion sans an audience. As an only child, I have never really known what it is like to do stuff without somebody fawning over your every move. So, I think I'll let this incognegro thing ride out for now...or at least this week.

Cocoalicious

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Not working = not cute?

Isn't there a Bond flick entitled "Tomorrow Never Ends" or “Tomorrow Never Dies” or something of the nature? While I cannot remember if such a movie exists, Cocoa does know that a similar expression kept playing over and over in my head this morning:

“Vanity Never Dies”
The urban diva’s quest to save the world from crime, social injustices and unfortunate fashion faux-paus of a City facing doom...all in the name of looking good, of course…

If Cocoa ever were able to produce such a flick, she would have it take place in a grimy, dismal, not-so chic, -trendy, or -cute locale...much like the New York City Labor Division’s Unemployment Office on 125th St. between 7th and 8th avenues! In the opening scene, the heroine - a highly-attractive, young, fashionable, recently-unemployed chick - would awake from a deep sleep to find herself sandwiched between other recently unemployed’s who have long forgone punching a clock, taming the coif, and applying a dab of blush!

Her first major decision as Sexykind's superhero? Risking the ridicule and (not-so figurative) dirty glares of clones to apply Studio Fix, mascara and lip gloss in a crowded waiting room!

Can she do it? Should she do it (did I do it)?

Hell yeah. Cocoa will be damned if she is unemployed and unattractive. No use in adding to the plight of the unemployed! Life is already tough enough as it is…

Cocoa

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TGYE, kiddies!

Day - what? - 13 on the temp job scene and things are getting, um, pretty interesting.

The real assistant is still out sick. Day 3, ya'll. But Cocoa's still not hating. I opened honey's email to find this ish again:

If you are still under the weather please don't come in. -- Boss Lady

Those eleven words wouldn't mean much to if I were not minorly (yes, I made up a word) jealous. I'm on her job. She is on her sofa. Me? SOHO office building watching the shine down on NYC. Her? SOHO side street sipping a latte, and (you guessed it) watching the sun stream down on NYC.

For all of my aspiring laziness and "kept lady" ambitions, I am actually not too green on girly. As I found out, by way of the temp agency by way of the company HR, by way of AWN! (Anna Wintour, NOT!, ya'll), her days are numbered...her days are numbered....the chicken's coming home to roost...her a$$ is grass. So, you've got the point, right?

Want it agressively plain? Homegirl is getting fired on Monday and does not have a clue!

With that I'll say:

TGYE aka "Thank God You're Employed"

I think.

Cocoa Girl

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The stuff that sick days are made of...

It's Day 11 on the temp job scene and things are actually...okay. The regular assistant to Boss Lady Wintour is back from vacation and (get this) at home sick. I'll refrain from being a "b" about it all, however, because homegirl actually does sound ill. I guess I would/could be a little woozy, too, if I had just returned from a third-world country where I had been parasailing, drinking, dancing, drinking some more, and doing whatever kind of things that aspiring entertainment industry assistants who live in artsy neighborhoods and graduated from private school do when on vacay and far from the throes of a demanding bosslady for the very first time.

All this is to say, Cocoa thinks honey dip's illness is Grade A. So, there! I am not ranting. Well…actually, let CG refrain: I was not going to rant UNTIL I logged onto honey's computer this morning to find this:

Subject (line): "If you are sick, please stay home."

Hi Minion: I just wanted to reinforce that you stay home if you're not 100 percent. I feel on the verge of getting sick and really want to avoid coming down with something." -- Boss Lady

Yes, Cocoa is pissed and really she feels the same way as you: this crap is SO UNFAIR! Do you know how long Cocoa has worked, slaved and photocopy-whored herself on the job to earn this kind of boss? The kind who commands "stay home; get better" and actually means it! No passive-aggressive, you-betta-produce-a-dislodged-cancerous-lung-before-you-leave-this-place, type who will poke voodoo doll replicas of you’re a$$ until you get back to work.

Oh well...I'm young and still running through bosses like Marion Jones dodging a charge. So, maybe next time.

Cocoa

CLICK HERE FOR SOME MORE COCOA...

'temping' ain't easy...

at least, not all of the time!

There was this blogger I used to follow on the regular by the name of "Temp Whore" who clearly was chronicling the story of Cocoa's current life as a temporary worker without knowing it.

Like me, TW loved the freedom that temp work offers. No chains, shackles or b*tch slaps here because, as a non-permanent employee, you are free to walk away from the insanity of the C.S.S. ("corporate slave ship" for the newbies) at any given time. Yet, the benifits do not stop on the Amistad/"give us free" tip! Not only can you bounce if not feeling the scene, but you are no longer hostage to all that cult activity that threatens to damper your Monday-Friday existence. Botox-necessitating (faux) smiles? Gone! The Happy Hour Hostage/Help! situation? You can't do me nada! OT everyday a.k.a. "time and a half?" Yes, yes, ya'll! The positives of temp work are endless. So what is Cocoa's beef? Glad you asked...

I am currently on assignment with this "Industry" exec who rivals Ms. Wintour. If it weren't for the facts that she remembers my name and tosses a "thank you" on the end of every request, I'd be shopping around my newest manuscript: "The Devil Wears Tori Burch." Every day it's:

"Cocooooa...let's call so-in-so", which actually entails yours truly dialing and telling her when to pick up!
"Cocoooa...did we receive an email from such-in-such?" Mind you, "we" have separate email addresses!
"Cocooooa...can you take this tea bag and make me some tea and bring it to me in the conference room (across the office) with an extra cup so I can discard the tea bag into it???"

Me lying? Don't count on it.

Stay tuned and happy Friday!
CG, your humble (temp) servant

CLICK HERE FOR SOME MORE COCOA...

If my life were a book...

Friends of Cocoa (F.O.C.) have commented many times that I should have my own show. I've had other folks tell me that they could see me with my own column. A former classmate even brainstormed a name for my (future?) column in The New York Times called "Tell It Like It Is." Funny enough, I actually enjoy the thought of sharing my thoughts via my own show or book. I - like zillions of other Americans - believe that my life has been SOOO interesting and should be the topic for the whole world to read – especially considering past several years of my life as spent in the “City.”

So, if Cocoa Girl were to write a few books on my crazy a$$ life in NYC, what would I call it…

"How to Lose Your Job in 365 or less - Guaranteed!"

"On Starving and Style: The Complete Narcissist's Guide to Looking Good on a Lemonade Diet"

"Sip That Juice and Cut It Lose! Lose 7 lbs in 7 days, PLUS Your Sweet Tooth and Meat Cravings"

"How to Survive a Ghetto Apartment: Volumes I - 455!"

"Has Anyone Seen the "I" Train? Tricks of the Trade for Avoiding Eye Contact on the Subway"

"Whoop That Boss, Get 'em! The Savvy Person's Guide to Conquering a Stupid Manager"

"Document AIN'T a Noun! 100 Tips for Covering Your A$$ On the Job"

"On Dating the Deranged: Accepting Your Role as an Equal Opportunity Dater in NYC"

How about you and yours? What would you name the story(ies) of your life?

Be Blessed,

Cocoa Girl
P.S.
Sorry for the long break from posting, things on the job have been pretty serious the past week. So, Cocoa has been handling her business! BTW, I will be OOO tomorrow cuz I'll be in Boston for a lil' gathering:)

CLICK HERE FOR SOME MORE COCOA...

Performance Anxiety

Tuesday has come and gone and still no word of annual performance reviews. Not for sure what's going on, but whatever it is it surely doesn't smell too flowery (yes, Cocoa understands that the word is 'floral'!).

I suspect the Firm PTB are plotting to get rid of somebody. Who? Who knows...could be the renegade assistant or me (the other renegade assistant). Either way, I am sure the post-verbal-bitch-slap buzz will be well worth the wait.

Kind of on-topic... I just finished scanning an article that says a firing could be the best thing to happen to a person. I agree, especially if said person has been putting off a great pursuit thanks to fear. Quiet as kept, Cocoa has actually hoped a firing on a person or two. Let's face it: some folks just need a little extra help getting the party started.

I know exactly what I would do if a pink slip met me in the grill tomorrow. Please don't ask why. I guess some folks are just a bit better at some things than others. My speciality happens to be rebounding from being quired (quit or fired...who knows!) and such.

Question: If you were fired tomorrow, what would be your three-month game plan?

Mine? I'd study my arse off for my upcoming entrance exam, while temping in an easy ass gig that would afford me plenty of study time. Matter of fact, I might even leave the City for three months and sublet my place at a hiked rate for extra cash flow. Around one month before my exam, I'd start looking for some longer-term easy opportunities to hold me over until the first day of classes. Then, the work world would be history for a few years.

Your turn...

Cocoa Girl

CLICK HERE FOR SOME MORE COCOA...

You had questions, Cocoa's got answers!

i like liquor and tv said...
What's your favorite food? Pretty much anything spicy, Thai or Indian.

Have you ever beat anyone up?
Katina Jackson in the girl’s locker room senior year. I was co-captain of the cheerleading squad and she was a member. Needless to say, I got kicked off the squad after I kicked her azz in front of about 20 spectators. We started in the locker room and moved it into the gym during the guys’ basketball practice (a strategic move by Cocoa, so Miss Jackson’s beat down would be put on serious blast!)

Did you used to like Oaktown 3-5-7? Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…
Yeah. Yeah. Oh yeah!

Anonymous 12:16pm said... You seem to hang out with a lot of snobby people....are you one of "those" black people... You know, you think you're better than the rest of us?
Cocoa is the same kind of black as you, baby. However, to answer you q, I am one of those black people. I am also one of those black folks who won't hesitate to cold tell you off if you cut off my moms AND one of those who will shoot a man the look of death should he fail to hold a door open for me or any other lady or elderly in my party.

Take from it what you like...

Harlem Songstress said... Have you ever stolen anything? If you answered yes-what was it, and how did u do it?!
Question not precise enough, so I get to say NO.

Thanks for playing!

Anonymous said...
Do you have any regrets in life? And if so, what are your biggest?
I regret that I did not attend Brown, although I was offered a “full ride” by the athletic department (offered to comp me based on my academics).

I regret not having a relationship with the sperm donor. Early experiences with the opposite sex set the stage for a looong time to come. I am still trying to get over some serious stuff. Brothers, please take this one seriously.

1969 said...
Cocoa...are you dating anyone at the moment? Yeah, I'm nosy!
No, she is not (*sobbing uncontrollably*). For real, I am actually on dating hiatus, which can last anywhere from two weeks to two years. All dependent upon how nutty/psychotic/far from normal the last guy was.

Do you plan on staying in NY for much longer or is Philly reaching out to you? :)
God is in control, but I just don’t know how much longer NYC is gonna be my place of residence. I have this strong urge for normalcy on the brain and it keeps saying stuff like North Carolina… and Philadelphia… I think I romanticize the two places, because they represent a life settled to a Minnesota girl currently living in Harlem.

Must have item for Fall? Solid direction. A book deal. Peace with God and my moms. Oh, a banging pair of purple or plum suede stilettos would seal the deal, too!

Harlem Songstress said...
What do you feel are your struggles when it comes to "living your religion"?
My biggest struggle is potentially having to give up on desires that I have always dreamed of. I say “potentially,” because there is a very strong chance that what I want might be outside of God’s will for me. In a nutshell, if I am truly “living my religion” then I should 1) believe He has a plan for me and 2) pray to know it AND accept it over my own plans. Right?

JaySpice said...
I'm new to the site. What did you have surgery for?
Welcome JaySpice (love that name!). I had a myomectomy, which is a common surgery especially for African American women.

meltron3000 said...
If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?
Some type of living thing is there to hear it, so yes. Hell, even roaches run upon hearing noises…um, so I hear… :D

What does blue smell like?
Like the color red…

If Mr Smith's peacock lays an egg in Mr Jones' yard, who owns the egg?
Was the peacock breaking and entering?

Is noon AM or PM?
Depends on midnight’s status, mane!

Knockout Zed said...
I can't ask. Or better yet, I won't ask. I'd rather be shown.
I swear up and down that my imagination is vivid. Yet, I KNOW that it is not vivid enough for this …

Pam said...
I really enjoy your blog. Your tone comes thru in your writing and puts me in such a better mood. (Thanks Pam – glad to be of service!)

How long do you plan to keep writing in this forum?
I love communicating with people, so I would like to maintain this platform for as long as I can! Depending on where life takes me, I may or may not have time to keep it up.

My youngest sister seems alot like you, adventurous, loves challenges and very precise (read Anal retentive) all of which characteristics I envy. When do you plan to become your bosses boss? (smile)
You know, as much as I complain about working for others, I do not fantasize about one day running my own shit. True, I do not like reporting into petties, crazies or morons, but lawd knows that I sure as hell do not want to manage the mofos either!

If Cocoa can’t beat ‘em, then don’t let me manage ‘em!

I am too exact to allow someone else to work under me. There are few folks who can pick up on and emulate my insanity. All of my direct supervisors have been hella anal retentive, almost psychotic. I am too.

And finally, what will settle you down?
A fine ass man who is spiritual, ambitious and is crazy about me who asks to be my husband and desires a strong family unit with no less than three kids, a few animals, and a place called home.

A cocoa girl can dream, right?

Single Ma said...
When are you coming thru DC so I can meet Ms Cocoa Fabulous?
Hopefully before the end of year!

When are you dropping that novel?
Good question. I have a few more leads to exhaust with publishing houses and agents. If they don’t go anywhere, then I may need to look to self publishing. BTW, thanks for the forwardJ

I apologize if I'm making assumptions, but why Ms Cocoa aint got no man?
Because I have not been looking – seriously. I am not at all trying to sound self-righteous, but I do not really put the effort into meeting men that I should.

I know that I am approaching 30 with strong desires of marrying and building a family (in that order!), but I definitely feel as though I do not put in the effort that I should to go out and meet the opp sex. Got any ideas…please share!

Have you ever tried "Something New?" *wink*
I have…once. He was very nice looking, obtaining his M.B.A., living on the UWS and all that. Yet, something was a little off.

Long story short, Cocoa was able to determine (rather quickly) that dude was a negraphile, meaning that he only dated black women. No white; no Indian; no Latina…nothing but black. Still, I was willing to give him a chance, until he felt comfortable enough to comment (during date #1) on how black men “always seem to date white women below their level/that white men do not want,” while white men only grab the crème de la crème of the black stock.

Has Cocoa made this same comment before? Hell yeah, but I am black! There was just something off about his level of comfort and the fact that his comment seemed a bit much rooted in spite.

Did you "really" return that skirt and those shoes? ;-)
I did! Yesterday!!! I’se now $259 less broke!

Are you a bougie ghetto girl in denial? Ha!
Unfortunately, not. I am just bourgie. I only did “ghetto” up until about 9 years of age and that was only because my b.f.f.’s happened to be the five “BeBe” kids next door. When they moved (their 21-year-old mother Mildred died of a crack overdose), my dealings with the ghettois was over. Actually, it may have started when their mammy broke into our apartment while we were away on vacation! They robbed my mom and I blind! Even somehow managed to remove a big floor model TV from the crib!

Crackheads are a determined bunch! A friend of a friend commented that they are the biggest source of untapped labor in the United States, because they will do anything – including work any job – to get their next hit.

Okay…serious digression.

If you had one wish that was guaranteed to come true within the next 24 hours, what would it be?
I cannot even answer this one…not if I only have one wish.

How much those nukkas makin on the trading floor?
Depends. First-year analysts (straight outta college) pull down a $55-$70K base and can earn just as much come year end via a bonus. So, a top salary for first-years is about $120,000 or so.

Associates who come directly from B-school start with a base of about $110K, which varies according to their product group. Their bonuses are less easy to predict…could be anywhere from $9k to $129k to $150k…

Anon @ 8:34 said…
Do you have a weave? Do you shake it like a Polaroid picture?
Funny that you should ask. I actually plan on getting one right before I head back to work in a few weeks (not that Cocoa is trying to deceive her unknowing colleagues or anything like soJ

T.Cas said…
Are you doing some writing while you are recovering?
Yes and no. I am trying to get back on the blog. HOWEVER, I was looking over my manuscript notes the other day and do plan on tweaking some more chapters before I go back into the trenches!

Do you see yourself as the "settling down" type? You know husband and 2.5 kids?
I actually have never seen myself in any other way, shape or form. I did not grow up with the intact family (mom, dad, etc.), so a strong family unit has always been a goal of mine.

What is the wackest pick up line anyone has used on you?
Dayum…there are SO many…

“Gul…you thick as SHIT!”
“Hey, mami…I can see your p*ssy through your pants,” followed by a kissing sound (I just cringed again and this one happened years ago).

Just a hazard of living in NYC!

What is the best pick up line anyone has used on you?
Sadly enough, but he was not black. This something-new stepped to me in the campus Laundromat and told me I was beautiful. Asked if he could take me to lunch. Just a simple compliment and a simple line.

Cocoa Girl

CLICK HERE FOR SOME MORE COCOA...

On nearing 30 and losing flava...

Is it possible for several ‘selves’ to occupy equal space, footing and influence within the one mind, body and soul? I think psychologists call it schizophrenia, but Cocoa Girl likes to regard said state of being as something common to living life in your 20s.

Three months shy of my 30th birthday, I am beginning to wonder which of my selves – the many flavors of Miss Cocoa - will survive the flip of the matrix.

Either way, I thought it would be a nice gesture to bid a final adieu to my psychotic, irrational and crazy-azz nature as a 20-something year old living in NYC self.

Yet, the question remains: which flavors of Cocoa Girl will make it out of the 20s? Your guess is as good as mine…

Cocoa Girl, the Big City dweller
This girl moved to New York to become powerful, which, when boiled down and less Trump-dramatic in fashion, means strong and successful. Life in the Mini-apple was always too basic for her. So, following high school, she attended college as far away from the Midwest as possible (NY & DC-area); studied abroad in London; interned in NYC and Chicago and ended up back here.

All of this to say that since Cocoa Girl, the Big City dweller, came to life by way of what Freud would probably classify as many things none too cute, I have always questioned the authenticity of this selve and wonder for how much longer I’ll get to enjoy the lifestyle that she was bold (unstable?) enough to pursue.

Cocoa Girl, the Gold digger
Wish I could blame this girly on the one above, but no can do! This chick may be nice, funny, caring, sweet and loving, but her ass is still bout it, bout it when it comes to the need for some serious P.E.P. (potential earning power) in they step! Thing is, this side of Cocoa Girl is one of the oldest vintage flavors on the market – she’s been around for as long as I have been spoiled! Mom dukes may have raised her fidolo, but she was always on the money when it came to the bills and the lifestyle.

Now is this selve a gold digger - for real - or a woman who just wants to be spoiled? I would argue that she is not as much a gold digger as she is a woman who just needs a few (ok – many!) things to carry on in what I would refer to as ‘special abundance.’

Cocoa Girl, the Race distancer
While this selve maintains that she has never desired to play dress up as another race, sometimes, black folk irk the absolute shit out of her - more than probably healthy. The ignorant ass talk; the BET programming; the Ghetto Lit; the self-hatred; the non-role models; the glamorizing of all things criminal; the current state of ‘hip hop’…

I could go on and on, but I will not, as this self is dying in me by the day. Do I still hate all things ignorant? Without a doubt. Big things have just made me realize that there is a lot that I can do as one to combat and offset the mass coonery.

Cocoa Girl, the Race crusader
This Cocoa flavor is that Pam Grier, Cleo Jones kind of chick who will pimp slap major advertisers, Bill Cosby and the likes of Sean P. Diddy Combs all the same. While she cannot stand the fact that many of her folks refuse to act right, she despises the powers-that-be that fund, fuel, exploit and perpetuate the machine.

Cocoa Girl, the Philanthropist
This girl might as well be dubbed ‘Cocoa Girl, the dreamer,’ because that is exactly who she is. She believes in trying to help people help themselves and in giving back whenever you can. She has always dreamt of sending anonymous cashier’s checks and blessing people and places all over the world – from tiny rural churches that just need enough money to repair the roof to AIDs organizations to orphanages in Rwanda.

Cocoa Girl, the Prosecutor
Perhaps it was the absentee daddy or her only-child (sole self-defender) status that led this girl to be more of a prosecutorial kind of ho than a defender. Her folks have had to beckon with her (too much?) to recognize the ‘good’ in others. This selve is also the same chick skilled in losing problematics without losing a cut of her sanity and esteem. Freud would say that she has a bit of an issue confronting matters of reconciliation

Cocoa Girl, the Ruler, will fire your ass in a minute, bitch
Power-hungry, heartless workplace bitch, spawned by one-too-many pissy jobs. She does not pity the unnecessarily weak or fools or those who do not act on others’ advice to help them better their careers (fools?). When necessary, she is cut-throat and has learned to play the game better than MJ. Actually, so well that the shit is beginning to blur with her ‘real’ life OFF the job (note to self: stop wearing pearls on the got-damn weekend!)

Cocoa Girl, the Crazy pet rescue lady
This girly is a newest - and sweetest - addition to the Cocoa line of flavors. Yet, most of her peeps worry about her presence. Why? Because they fail to see how this selve actually affords an otherwise untrusting, self-absorbed, Manhattan chick mostly concerend with self preservation, daily dealings in compassion and kindness.(I kind of like her and hope she sticks around, if I do say so mahself.)

Cocoa Girl, the Social climber
This well coifed-cow (believe me, she can be one!) believes that nothing in life is meant to be stagnant. NOTHING. While nobody in the family is for certain from whence she came, Mom Dukes swears that she is positively without a doubt a super spawn of the sperm donor’s line.

Girly is the driven selve that says if it’s broke, fix it; if you do not like it, change it; if you are scared of it, overcome it, and if things (they?) intimidate you, strike them under your heel and put those bitches in their place!

In one very, very nutty nutshell, this fine flavor believes that 'up' is the only way to go and if you have an opportunity to better your position, then why the hell not?

Will this chica stick around beyond the 30 mark? Dude, I am scared to find out myself.

For all of you 30-plusers out there, did you notice any parts of your self dropping off you hit the mark?

Cocoalicious

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY CG@Work!

I know, I know…what kind of writer forgets their own blog birthday?

One year ago, Cocoa Girl, the burgeoning writer, embarked on a little task to build what those non-fic folks in the publishing world like to call a "platform." Cocoa remembers the conversationS (emphasis on the plural) going a little something like this...

Agent/editor: "Your voice is strong, identifiable, likeable. Your proposal is great - I definitely think it will work. Yet, I'm thinking that we need to see a platform from you. It's just that you are a new writer and that's what my [editor/marketing & research/Acquisitions] boss would like to see..."

With that much, Cocoa Girl on the Job (which actually started as "Observations from a Cocoa Girl at Work") was born and on August 17, 2005.

It's funny: Upon first blog (more like the first few months), the process seemed so darn labor-like. For whatever reason, blogging felt more so like a chore than a creative exercise in career building. Yet, although it seemed as if nobody was reading my site, I continued to write and write and write some more.

One day in late November, some Cali chick with a hella cool logo left a comment on my site. I had never before 'seen' her, but she came back the next day, and the next and the next. Of course, I had to check her out and when I did, I must say that homey was HEE-LARIOUS (to use one of her words). To this day, I still LMAO at her assigning Mr. Sadaam Hussein his very own gangsta moniker ("That N!gga Dam!") because him and his peeps were getting gully in court. From that very day, I was hooked and over the course of the next few weeks, I became hooked on her blogroll. After reading (stalking?) other folks' sites continuously, I fell in love with a few of their sites and the notion of writing for the sake of writing. It was no longer a chore. I liked it.

So, here I am today kiddies... Blogging away – well, at least some days of the week, tho I will get better with the 6-week recovery period. The book? I was going to post on that one, but thought I'd wait until September:)

Thanks to all for checking me out and for all the love and encouragement. To my fellow bloggers, thanks for the inspiration...now get to tweaking those manuscripts!

Cocoa Girl

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Stalkers @ Work!

Workplace #1 presented many interesting "firsts" for Cocoa Girl, including my very first run-in with the concept of being "Single White Female'd."

You see, due to what one could refer to as a little 'position' envy, one coworker had something just shy of that Fatal Attraction sheyot with all things moi. First, it was my bags ("Omigod - is this reaal Prada?"). Next, the jewelry ("Omigod - are those diamonds real?"). Then things got a tad scary when the SWF zoomed in on my accessories, which my coworkers thought to be hilarious.... (Cocoa's boss) "Seems like Cocoa has a little admirer - isn't Miss SWF wearing the EXACT same rhinestone-buckle, fatigue-print belt that you bought last week?"

Last but not least, girly drove Cocoa to phone home to mom-dukes when she proceeded to have a LOUD conversation (just a few feet away) regarding her 'new' Louis Vuitton bag that she had just 'inherited' (I kid you not) from her DEAD grandmother. Harmless enough, perhaps. However, judging by her reaction to my LV a few days before ("Omi-f*cking-god! YOU have a Louis Vuitton bag???"), I think the alarm was justified.

As I later found out, this Single White Female's fascination with me stemmed from her desire to have my job. Apparently, she had been seeking my position before the words 'necessary,' 'diversity' and 'new-hire' had slipped from my manager's lips, but she never was in the running. And management didn't care enough to tell her either.

Not like I ever cared about her plight (the cow was an evil, rancid witch). Yet, I stumbled upon my stalker on the job memories after speaking with another friend regarding hers... Except her stalkers have all been Single BLACK Females... One, tried to befriend her the first week of work, only to end up bitter because my friend (obviously a psychic!) dubbed her ass crazy! This SBF was obviously not one to disappoint, however, as she later proceeded to cut slashes into the sleeves of my girlfriend's coat and clothes.

My friend's next SBF @ Work also wanted to befriend (become?) her. Yet, not much unlike Cocoa's SWF above, this SBF wanted my homegirl's gig. So, she did what any psychotic beyotch would do and proceeded to cop everything my friend has: her hair styleS (emphasis on the plural) - first the braids and then the Bob-cut; her style of dress (did I mention that chick is 16 years senior my friend); her internal career track, and, now, her graduate degree of choice.

*blank stare*

While I would like to believe that I’m really just that fly, Cocoa would rather conclude that mofos @ work are just that got-damned deranged.

Got stalkers on the job?

Cocoa Girl

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Black people do the darndest things!

No matter how pro-Black Cocoa feels on any given day, I would be a straight up lie, if I did not admit that there are a few things The Race can (and does!) do to drive my behind up a wall.

Yes, other races also partake in a bit too much ‘group-think’ for Cocoa’s liking, BUT they ain’t my people. So, outside of work, commuting to work, shopping at Bloomingdales, visiting most of my doctors, ordering my food, trying on shoes, and seeking customer service, Cocoa tries to give herself a break on thinking about the others as much as possible.

Back to the lecture at hand… There are a few annoying/trifling/just plan a$$ RIDICULOUS things that Cocoa cannot/does not/probably should understand about The Race… can you help a sister out?

Black people, why do other black people...

...keep molesters around the children? I cannot recall how many times (even my OWN family) that I've heard "it's not job to judge people...it's GOD's!" Um…since when did keeping the nasty bastard away from the family kiddies qualify as ‘judging?’ And, don't get me started on that pervert R-Kel...

...call people on their cell phones when they're at work? Random yes, but it JUST HAPPENED to me! I work, dammit. Do not call my freaking mobile at 2:57 on a Friday afternoon!

...think it's now cool to rock Botox and fake boobs? Many influential black women are now taking a spin on this self-hatred joyride. There weren't enough folks already hating and hating on us that we needed to join in on all the fun, too?

...act like 'New Age' is the hottest thing since slice bread? Not that everyone needs to be on Team Jesus, or kneeling for the sake of Allah, but gimme a damn break. A peachy-colored Jesus and a few obviously necessary rules of conduct ain't excuse enough for your a$$es to denounce all religion as the evil.

...rally around obviously guilty muthafuggas just because they're black? Hell, yes! I DID bring it back to that trifling R-Kel. Heads up: If you know that your response will contain the words "others" and "do it," save your stroking (of the keyboard) for that R&B rapist’s fan club site!

...represent 5'1/220 lbs. as "thick?" Granted, I am not going to diss Team Chunk whatsoever - especially since I might soon join the squad (Cocoa loves me a meal Popeye's and strawberry cupcakes!) – but, last time I checked, the proper adjective for a hefty dose of madness like so was called UNHEALTHY!

...in particular, why does a large part of black women pledge allegiance to the tribe of Blackcockown Lee when a large part of brothers do not/will not grant them the same place on the totem pole?

...denounce issues like 'colorism' as passe, like all the brown girls getting play in Hollyhood nowadays don't have Euroquestionable features and silky, blonde weave down their backs?

...get disrespectful when you chastise their kids for being disrespectful?

Cocoa's just asking… Got answers? Got more questions?

Cocoa Girl

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On making a famed departure...

Almost four years ago to the date, a good work "friend" was close to getting the fired. Her manager wanted her gone so bad, she was trying everything in the book to get her to quit. She excluded her from all projects; ignored her at every opportunity; gave her work terrible markings; spoke poorly of her character and ability; put her on a 30-day (to firing) probation, and even swore at her in person and via email. On of the crazy heifer's last tactics was by way of some written insanity to the effect of:

"If you want to stay here, then over the course of the next 30 days, I need to show it. Matter of fact, PROVE it to me. I want to hear you say how much you love working here and how much this work means to you!"

You see, while my friend was not a Cocoa Girl, she was just as brown as many of us and probably the most-popular person to work at the firm, ever. So, this ‘mom and pop shop; PR firm was scared sh!tless about cutting her ass and getting sued.

One day as her formerly-an-actress VP was wiping fake tears while saying that she is "so terribly sorry" that things were not working out, girly dead-panned and told her that she was not quitting without a) cash and b) a clean employment record.

Chick stopped the show and they reached an agreement, but the madness didn't stop there.

The firm agreed to write off her position, but demanded that she participate in a company-sponsored going away party FOR HER, thrown by (none other) than her coke-head/heroin-addicted manager (top paragraph). Next, they told her that she needed to make an announcement at the next staff meeting that she was QUITTING to pursue greener pastures. Mind you, girly did not even have a clue of what life held for her next.

Ya'll know Cocoa was like "Hell to the nah!!!!" but the friend agreed because she just wanted it all to be over.

If there is anything that I do not like it is f’d up employers getting away with being f’d up. That's why I was all the way thrilled to hear about the battle brewing between Star "F*ck this Job and You!" Jones-Reynolds and one step off trifling Barbara "Losing Popularity" Walters.

In case you live under a rock and haven't a clue about what's going on, The View basically fired Star, but wanted her to tell the world (a lie) that she actually decided to end her stint on the show. Star said beyotches, please! and dropped the bomb on Tuesday’s show – a month off from the timing deemed appropriate by her employer. The same day People magazine featured an exclusive interview from Star, where she broke down all the REAL details of what happened to her career on the show. The next day, there is this media war of sorts going on with Walters telling the whole world she fired Star after Tuesday’s show and that Star should have chosen to take the high road…Yadda, yadda, yadda.

Now, I'm not a fan of Star, but Cocoa is glad that she basically told them all 'fuck you – you and you!' on national TV. Why they would delude themselves into thinking that she would play the game according to their rules is beyond me. Fame, fortune or not, there is a way to treat EVERYONE and they fucked her over! Not to mention that they hired her arch nemesis Rosie O before Star even had the chance to start her “I’ve decided to leave” buzz. Now they want to get all mad? Puleez. YOU GO STAR - stand up for yourself, girlfriend!

As for my friend not standing up for herself? Cocoa took care of that one. Let's just say that the PR diva in me leaked a few leads of my own stating what really went down with my friend’s departure. She was embarrassed that somebody told everyone the truth (I denied it like Kobe, ya’ll), BUT the entire firm was on her side and angry with the skuzzy hoes in management. Image may not seem like a lot to the average person, but to a PR firm built on an image of lies and deceit, their asses were too-through and left trying to damage-control like a mug. I still laugh about it all to this day.

Cocoa Girl

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Keeping It Real vs. Keeping It @ Home

A couple of weeks ago, it was a straight up black Friday in the office. At first, Cocoa Girl thought her sense of smell was deceiving her. Yet, two minutes later and two rows over, Girly Girl discovered a plate of chicken wings and a vat of fried rice parading as somebody's lunch. Truth be told, upon first realizing what I was smelling, Cocoa just KNEW some negra had brought her grandmama's fried chicken to the job.

Much to my amazement, the perp wasn't even a Cocoa at all. Matter of fact, the worker wasn't even brown. This Asian cat was tearing up some wings, with nothing but his hands and hot sauce! I know his Korean counterpart, Little Miss Banana, was too through! Not that I would ever admit to agreeing with that chick about ANYTHING, but Cocoa still thinks that some stuff is just better left at home... Whatcha think?

January 26, 2006 - Keepin' It Real Vs Keepin' It at Home?

Quiet as kept, I’m really a little bourgeoisie and just don't let down my ghe(tto)-dar too often, ESPECIALLY when at work. Now, before you go getting all po'd at me, let me assure you that it's NOT that I believe everyone at work should resemble the person in the cubicle next door. Rather, it's more so that I KNOW the office powers-that-be expects everyone on the job to, well, to resemble the person in the cubicle next door. Unfortunately, it’s a game that we all must play when working in Corporate America, and while workers DO have a right to be pissed about it, let’s first ask ourselves: If a sistah never spots any of cubicle cohorts rocking talon-length manicures with panoramic scenes of South Beach - IN a white bread office - then why on earth would she go into work wearing that H.A.Mmy mess??? And, trust me, many of them rock the nail decals, too. They’re just savvy enough to cop a bottle of that good stuff before reaching the office on Monday morning!

But, hey, who I am to be judgmental? Fresh out of college and at job #1, I was broke but managed to maintain a penchant for eating out every meal of the day (I know: whole 'nother blog!). So, I, along with the two other resident black chicks always dined in at this cheap-a$$ fried-fish joint around the corner from work. BUT I nevah – I repeat, NEVAH! - brought that stuff back to the office. Why not? I was fully aware that neither my JAP, fabu Brit gay-guy, old-monied, or new-money bosses would have found that move too cute! They were snobs, but I knew this from day one, so I always proceeded accordingly. I also had enough sense to know that fried imitation crabmeat had no place alongside eel rolls, Edamame OR my promotion! Some things have always been just a matter of common sense to me, which pretty much explains why I was shocked by the (Afro-American?) antics of the only straight, black male to ever work for our supa-white P.R. firm. Brother obviously wasn’t up on G'Al Reynolds' tips for being "ethnic" on the weekends…


1. TIMBS. Yes, as in the boots. If you work at a Manhattan public relations firm, where 85 percent of the office is female and 90 percent is white, you should not/cannot/must not wear Timberlands to the office on casual Fridays. This rule should be even more apparent when said white women at work find it okay to comment, “Oh, [Cocoa Boy] you dress SO cool. We were just talking about how you look like you just stepped off the cover of Vibe magazine.”


2. POPEYE’S. Every day, I shrank in disbelief as, every day, I watched homey lug that blue, red and yellow logo’ed plastic bag into the office. A sistah knew (all too well, ya’ll!) what lay ahead. Dude would even rip off a piece of box and empty onto it ‘bout 55 ketchup packets to create a mountain of “sauce” for his spicy legs and biscuit. Folk, if you have never seen or smelled shortening, Louisiana Hot or anything fried in your office – especially if the two 85 and 90 percent reasons above apply - leave yo’ sh!t of similar persuasion at home, or in the “restaurant!"


3. BAGGY JEANS. At one point during his brief tenure with the firm, a sister got so fed that I even contemplated criminal intervention on behalf of The Race. Why on earth did this Cocoa Boy think he could roll up in the office channeling the likes of Chingy and T.I. when all the other males were khaki'ed out like Bob Saget?

CLICK HERE FOR SOME MORE COCOA...

Wednesday's Workplace Wordage: "Hiya"

When the 'regla old "hi," "hey" or "good morning" just won't do...

Fellas - especially black and straight fellas - steer clear of this one.

Ladies - Is your communication style at work thought to be too "direct?" Have the words "hostile" or "intimidating graced the pages of your annual review too many times? Well, then, today's workplace wordage just might be the best thing to happen to your career - ever!

Best used to offset to the tension, "attitude" and b!tchiness found in your responses to stupid, catty emails, "hiya" works to confuse enemy targets on the job who are convinced that you will respond to their nastiness with blatant nastiness. That's right, kiddies! A subtle "eff off!" body, proceeded by that hottness called "hiya" is all you need to check fools while maintaing a positive image at work.

Cocoa Girl is certain that by now you believe she is making up these terms. I mean, who on earth would dare utter something so ridiculous sounding "whelmed up" or "hiya?" Yet, you must believe Cocoa when she says that she understands your lack of belief AND that these words are 100% legit.

Try "hiya" today!

*Disclaimer: Blacks and gay males will read through "hiya" as you being the smart-a$$, plotting office trick that you are! Use on these groups at your own risk.

Cocoa Girl

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Cocoa's 'Crash' moment @ work!

If Opie gets to go on and on and on...and on and on and on about Hermes treating her like an ordinary, singletary negress, then surely Cocoa gets to post about some annoying, discriminatory-type ish that she recently experienced while on the job...

A coworker of the Vanilla persuasion recently asked me for help with a package. He was sending it overnight to somewhere far, far away. About five minutes later, he comes over and asks where I live.

“Manhattan,” said I.

A look confusion overtakes his face.

“Um, well, um...I am sending this letter to a school…hmm…you probably or maybe don’t live close to it but…

you just said that you live in the Bronx, right?”

“I.live.in.MAN...HAT...TAN...”

“Oh…ok, well this package is going to a school in the Bronx…yeah, you may not be familiar with the area... OR are you???” he says, one eye-brow raised.

Needless to type, I was hella irked. Now, if you're not famil with NYC then you are probably branding me some bitter a$$ Cocoa on a rampage ( to think!). If so, do allow Miss Cocoa to break it down por tu...

Manhattan IS Manhattan. Live in another part of the country? Think about what ya'll refer to as “downtown.” The Bronx - on the other hand - is the muthafargan BRONX. Still not getting it? Think MLK Boulevard, colored folks, or police shooting innocent folks who cannot speak English and reach for their wallets at the wrong time. All this to say, while many black folks who live in Manhattan HAPPEN to live in nose-bleed territory right next to the Bronx, Cocoa Girl ain't one of them! So girly girl was too-through!

Don’t get me wrong: I know that da Boogie Down happens to house a very large, old and proud Irish community; a wonderfully accredited university, and working-class families with strong ties to the community. Yet, someone who is NOT like Cocoa (read: igno-azz colleague numero uno) only knows one (sorry, two) things about BX: 1) Yankee stadium and 2) negroes.

Hmph!

Regardless of the source of homey's ignorance, Cocoa was glad to learn that she has been justified for keeping that igno atop her “I perhaps one day will like you, BUT it's highly unlikely" list of coworkers.

What sort of "Crash" moments have you experienced on the job? Just like in the movie, everyone has them, so everyone please do share!

Cocoa Girl

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Wednesday's Workplace Wordage: "Not Famil"

This week's word is brought to us compliments of Cocoa Girl's favorite Sri Lankan flavor in the office.

Cocoa Girl: "What do you think of that green leather hobo from Marc Jacobs?"

S.L.F.: "Dunno, hon...not famil."

Alternatively seen/heard as "unfamiliar" OR "not familiar with," NOT FAMIL is a must-have for those office slaves toiling away on the fast-paced C.S.S. What makes this Wednesday's wordage even MORE popular is the fact that it spares us use of one whole syllable! Yup, probably a whopping one-hundreth of a second.

While it's extra richickulous, Cocoa personally digs this one. When spoken in the correct accent, it could make any executive-in-training sound hella aloof, b.k.a. NYC-cool.

'Not famil' with the new Wednesdays at Cocoa Girl on the Job? Click here!

Cocoa Girl

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Wednesday's Workplace Wordage: "Whelmed Up"

Sample usage: “Sorry for swearing guys. I just was really whelmed up over that trade a second ago.”

Cocoa heard this dose of ridiculousness yesterday and suspects it's a hybrid of the terms “overwhelmed” and “worked up,” both of which should NEVER be used by anyone of the non-white male variety at work. For one, only power-hungry, uptight "bitches" get worked up on the job (thought you knew) and, two, it is not polite for black folks to worked up, angry, or overwhelmed in the office....

More sample usage...
GOOD: “Man, I’m really whelmed. I cannot believe dude dissed you like that…what a prick!”

BAD: “Yo, he got a n!gga all whelmed and he wasn’t even talking to me...punk a$$ b!tch.”

GOOD: “No, I can handle it…just whelmed up over that .000000075 percentage point…it was ours man, it was ours.”

BAD: “She is whelming my got-damn nerves!”

GOOD: “As your manager, I’d like to see you more whelmed up over the day-to-day needs of this department.”

BAD: (to the manager) “I don’t see a need for you to get all whelmed up over this stuff…it happens all the time.”

Now you try..

CG./R.

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Confronting a bad boss…brilliant or B.S.?

Cocoa Girl has experienced many not so freak-of-nature crazy bosses, meaning these notorious mofos are an all too common existence on any job, in any field.

If you worked the Mrs Fields mall counter, then they’d be the mofo monitoring how much dough you allot for each cookie. If you slang garbage into trucks for a living, your d!ckhead du jour would be the one clocking (for the head boss?) how long it takes you to bag a block. Furthermore, if you slaved away in an office, where peeps appear to be most concerned about stepping over everyone toward success (while being sure to not step on certain folks’ toes), well, let’s just say the opportunities for bullying the sub-boss set are endless.

So what – if anything – can be done to make a bad boss back down? Cocoa says not much, as girly girl has tried to reason, confront, and argue down (not recommended) crazies at work. Yet, according to an article posted on my favorite work-related site, careerjournal.com, there are ways that employees can work to check fools on the job, while continuing to chek for their paycheck. The article recommends not trying to sue (no legal footing to stand on); forming a support group for battered employees and confronting the manager-with-mange as a unit (LMBAO…yeah right!); confronting the boss solo (“don’t raise your voice unless he raises his first…your firm response may show your boss [you’re not scared]”…LOLLOLLOL!), and, should all else fail, reporting the tyrant to H.R.

ABSOLUTELY HEE-LARIOUS!

Cocoa doesn’t know about you, but I laugh at the suggestion that employees take it upon their solo selves to confront a crazy manager. I believe the article fails to acknowledge one major fact in that companies/employers/owners/top dawgs know when their managers mistreat their sub-ordinates on a mass level – and they look the other way. It’s called managing your bottom line.

Hate it or love it (ahem...perhaps this is you?), the most-brutal jerk on the job is usually a top performer. Top management fails to confront them because of this very reason – they do not want to screw around with their business. So, why would anyone outside of the star position himself as the office martyr by going up against an obviously-protected employee? Cocoa has done it before and said it has to be one of the most non-smart things girly has done at work.

Cocoa’s suggestion: Don't tolerate daily disrespect from anyone at work, but do understand that you must choose your battles because the C.M.C. (Cubicle Mafia Crew) runs thick. Don't take up swords on behalf of all officekind. When others rise up against crazy folks who are never reprimanded for their behavior (which should read like a neon sign in the dark), don't compromise your job security by steering the bandwagon. Matter of fact, Cocoa had a smart and succesful colleague who purposedly befriended one crazy boss and acted as if she were a devoted, hard-working employee who saw the crazy in the same faux-positive light as said crazy's managers. Call it shady, but what at work isn’t? She knew her boss had 10,000 percent job security, so what was she going to do?

It’s about survival and your paycheck. Martyrdom at work is for dummies.

Oh, and if things turn hella bad for you, start looking for a new job within or outside of the company. Unless you're an also an office star, the top dawgs are not ridding of their best performer for you. Hell, even if you are a star, chances are that you're still a Cocoa...so tread wisely because the playing is not yet that leveled.

What do you think? How have you handled crazy, unfair, deplorable bosses? How would you handle one?

CG./R.

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Auntie Thomasina-ing on the Job

The Kingpins.

The new Cocoa Boy at work seems to have mastered the fine art of shooting the breeze mocha-style, which set off yet another round of ANTT (America’s Next Top Tom) on the job:

Cocoa Boy: “Hey, Cocoa… how’ya doing!

Cocoa Girl (not to be outdone): “I’m g-r-r-r-eat!! What can I do for ya this morning!!”

Cocoa Boy: “Cooould I use a few of your sanitary cleaning wipes for my desk?”

Cocoa Girl: “Of course!!! Help yourself!!!

Cocoa Boy: “BTW, Haaaaappy Friday!!!!”

Cocoa Girl: “Aww…Haaaaaaaaappy Friday to you, too!!!!!”

Cocoa Boy: “Hey… that’s what I live for!!!!!!” [visualize the Bing Crosby eye-wink/finger snap to a finger point combo].

Cocoa Girl: “Ha, ha, ha!!!!!!”

While Cocoa Girl typically leaves the office Tom’ing to the clueless suburbanites and adoptee blacks from places like Minnesota, ain’t nobody – she repeats – NOBODY – outdoing her (that’s me, ya’ll…keep up) when it comes to pimping “the system” on the job!

(ONLY FOR THE MOST HONEST OF YOU): In what ways do/have you Tom’ed it for a little advantage at work? Changes to the ‘accent’? Strategically-arranged lunch invites? Vocab adjustments to include the top mochaisms of this age, e.g. ‘Woo-hoo,’ ‘You rock’ and ‘Awesome’? Making it a point to alert your mullet-wearing manager that you too loved Def Leopard... C'mon...spill it!

CG./R.

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Chronic tardiness...a Cocoa disability?

After hearing about my fellow Cocoa folks' struggles with making it into work on time, I began to wonder if there is some scientific, social and/or medical explanation as to why negroes run so darn late. My pontifications brought me to a funny story involving my favorite Auntie, Cynthia.

Mom Cocoa (Mrs. Goody-Two-Shoes): '"Cynthia, you cannot park here...this space is a handicapper."

Aunt Cocoa: Backs the car up, ignoring Cocoa's mom

Mom Cocoa (from the front passenger seat): "Cynthia, did you hear me? I said that you cannot park here. You're going to get a ticket or - even worse - you will be towed. It doesn't matter if this is your job's parking lot, you will get fined..."

Aunt Cocoa (totally annoyed): "Look dammit, I black ain't I?"

Mom Cocoa: Blank stare

Aunt Cocoa (invisible hand-on-hip motion): "I said: we black, ain't we? Shyt, the way them motherf*ckers act sometimes, they must think being black is a handicap. So, I should be able to park here if I damn well want to WHEN I damn well please cuz we are f*cking handicapped."

I nearly fell out the car laughing.

While I recognize that my auntie was being hella facetious, two years later, I still tend to contemplate ways that black folks on the job should/could/perhaps one day would qualify for our very own sub-section under the Americans with Disabilities Act. Of course, negroes' chronic tardiness always tops the list. I mean, what other race/group of folks runs late like we do?

Mistah Webster defines the term disability as "a disadvantage or deficiency, especially a physical or mental impairment that interferes with or prevents normal achievement; something that hinders or incapacitates."

'Hinders or incapacitates,' huh? Based on this stuff, Cocoa felt challenged to determine additional reasons why black folk should qualify for a little special treatment on the job. Thoughts so far have included a cognitive inability to grasp an understanding of Eurobonics beyond a remedial level and anxiety attacks triggered by "Woo-hoo!," which rings dangerously close to Klan battle cries and can render Cocoas scared to participate in any team-related function or event on the job.

Did I miss any?

CG./R.

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Apocalypse now?

Grab the leagues of bottled water, flashlights and batteries, Cheez Its and other “foods” with a 10-year shelf life … Run for the hills; bolt underground and start scurrying for a ticket to somewhere, anywhere - but not before dropping to your knees to beg for mercy!

Cocoa Girl was actually on time for the second workday in a row! Now, given the insanity of such, you know that some crazy sheyot is about to pop off!!!

Is the negra turning over a new leaf with the spring weather? Is she now going to bed on time? Does homette require less sleep, or has she finally learned how to efficiently double as a slave to her pet AND her own impulsive, maniacal, diva, self-centered tendencies???

Who knows. Girly is just glad, as daily ANTM-esqe transformations on the 2 Express are none too cute.

With that said, please help Cocoa help herself by sharing your best time-savers for preserving the sexy (and the paycheck!) in the a.m., while of course still arriving to work on time.

Happy Monday!

CG./R.

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41 Questions (and answers)...

Yesterday's post featured a pressing workplace question of my own and called for everyone to submit their own question, which would be answered by no other than Cocoa Girl (that's moi!).

So, without further adieu...

BTW, if your ass gets fired, it is NOT my fault. Based on my language, I am obviously not a f*#&ing professional!

I'se off the job today, but will check in! Enjoy!

@ P
1. Why do employees track you down like you are a fugitive from justice? You’se a negra – you iz one.

2. Why do employees ask you "Hey, I have a question, REAL QUICK?" (it neva iz!!!) They’re spineless parasites who lack confidence and esteem enough to take up as much of your time as they damn well please WITHOUT feeling guilty or actually caring if you give a f*ck.
@ HARLEM SONGSTRESS
3. WHY do people see you with your coat on getting ready to walk out the door and want to ask you a work-related question??? You need to walk expeditiously or resolve to bouncing a tad earlier (say 20 minutes before you’re actually off-the-clock versus 15...).

4. WHY do senior executives in particular feel the need to discuss business if they catch you in the bathroom at the same time while you are IN the stall with the door closed?! Two words: ‘senior’ and ‘executives.’

@ SUPA
5. WHY do people say "can I give you this" or "can I sit down for a sec", and go ahead and do it any fucking way - without even waiting for an answer?!? Because they actually have confidence and esteem enough to take up as much of your time as they damn well please WITHOUT feeling guilty or actually caring if you give a f*ck.

@ INCIQUAY
6. Mmm hmm, I get them fools that ask me a question and then when I answer it they play this staring contest with me where they don't say nuthing else but keep lookin' dead in my eyes. I think it's a jedi mind trick where they try to make me feel uncomfortable so that I keep talking and end up looking stupid. It's like a power-trip game and it don't work on Inciquay. I am the staring contest champion! Um, you’se a negra, so it’s actually called the Kizzy Mind trick. ‘Cept versus cracking a whip, those masahs are threatening your paycheck. BTW, please do share the name of your plantation, so Cocoa can make sure that she never works there!

@ MRS TJ
7. Why do I have to work for the man? Count your blessings. Things could be worst…you could be working for B.E.T.

8. (Seriously) why do people act like you are being a b*tch when you are CYA, but when they do it, they just following up and doing their job? Jerks. Common law does not apply to self - especially at work.

@ I LIKE LIQUOR AND TV
9. To follow up Harlem Songstress..WHY do they like talking about work during lunch? Are they paying??? If so, then shut yo’ mouth and eat. If not, shut your mouth and listen for the scoop/gossip. It will come up.

10. Another question: Why do idiots with no lives like scheduling meetings after 4 PM and talk and talk and ask dumb questions although no one is listening to them? These meetings are generally run by the lowest managers on the totem pole who lack clout enough to secure the a.m. or noon-day “You bastards will pay attention and get this shyt done TODAY!” time slots.

@ SINGLE MA
11. Why do people walk up to my desk when they see I'm typing (so what if I'm blogging) and say "are you busy?" Because they know you’re not really working. It’s called being diplomatic.

12. Why do people ask "can I ask you a question?" WTF! I dunno, but generally a question that should never be asked is guaranteed to follow.

13. Why do people ask me "what's wrong?" just because I'm not wasting time and gossiping with everyone else at the water cooler? Because you’re not wasting time and gossiping with everyone else at the water cooler - today. BUT you were doing the shyt yesterday. Sudden behavioral change tends to spark concern in most adults – coworkers included.

14. Why does my boss always begin his sentences with "Single Ma, I need you again. Can you do me a favor?" I mean if I say ‘no,’ then what? Then you just say no... Yeah right! Hahaha! Actually, try saying ‘no,’ followed by a blank stare/three-second pause combo and let a n!g know what happened. Holla!

15. Why does the new chick come to work looking like she's headed to the club at 5:00p? What ever happened to, when in doubt, dress like your boss or the people around you? Whatever happened to ‘men are visual creatures?’ You work in finance, right? Chances are the ‘gentlemen’ on the job do not take her seriously anyhow…but they prolly think she look good!

@ MISS AHMAD
16. Why did I date a dude that wore a doo rag like it was a security blanket who couldn't understand why he wasn't landing the jobs he was qualified for? Two words: ‘doo’ and ‘rag.’

17. Why does my boss come to work for a few hours a day just to make everyone feel uncomfortable, then leave again??? Since he’s not around that often, he needs to ensure that nobody forgets who’s really in charge, like his passive-aggressive a$$ does every time he leaves work early to report home and get b!tch-slapped by his wife.

18. Why do folks act like making television is rocket science and freak the hell out when I try to do simple shit...like go home! Because you’re obviously in charge;-)

19. Why did my old boss corner me at a party and try to get me to quit my current job to "come back to him"... Are you going?

20. Why do all the white girls I work with have more ass than me??? Must be all that matzo ball soup.

@ HARLEM SONGSTRESS
21. WHY do managers dub everything a "project" no matter how non-related/left field it is to your key roles and responsibilities just so that it seems like whatever they are asking you seems "key" to helping the company go way above and beyond their EBIT? Harlem Songstress…WTF is ‘EBIT?’

22. WHY is it that every time I misdial any of my friends' phone numbers from work a Spanish speaking person picks up the phone? Well, if you ask the Republicans, they’ll tell you that it’s because you live in NYC with a bunch of “illegal” immigrants who hide indoors during daylight (which is when you happen to be on the job) and come out to work illegal, under-the-table jobs at night. So, in a nut shell, they’re the only ones at home to answer the phone when you misdial during the day.

@ I LIKE LIQUOR AND TV
23. WHY did I JUST (like 5 mins ago) have to curse out this man on my team cause he said that I’m not "team player" just because I wouldn't cover for him just so he can go golfing or whatever the hell he does when he skips work? It’s true. You’re not a team player. If you were, you would have played along with his bullshyt excuse…

@ SOLITAIRE
24. Why do white chicks come up to you, asking dumb questions like "Oh, are you filling in for the time being until they find someone for the position?" ... knowing fully well that you have moved into the position and they're mad as heck that you're doing it better than them. Nobody ever said that Cocoa girls at work have exclusive rights to hateration on the job.

@ T. CAS
25. Why did I not leave work until 11:30 last night and then have people call me at 8:30 in the morning? Because you’re slave.

26. Why can't some people stop talking about their private business at work? Is it that they can’t or that they won’t?

27. Why are my boss and my colleague taking tomorrow off for Good Friday? Ain't I a Christian too? See answer #25.

28. Why is it 88 degrees and you wearing corduroy pants? Hahaha…

29. Why do you try to run a meeting with Microsoft Live meeting if you don't know how to use it? Why you think they allow slaves to be educated nowadays…that’s your job!

30. Why is you touching me? Amen!

31. Why is this the most fun I had all day? Amen again!

@ SUPA SISTA
32. WHY did the Whiny White Chick in the office come into my office start CRYING because she said she's so stressed coming to work and simultaneously having construction upgrades done on her HOUSE (as in, the b!tch got FAT money)? Because her upgrades obviously don't rely on her paycheck!

33. WHY did I just look at her ass wanting to yell GROW SOME OVARIES B!TCH!!! Because you realize that your lifestyle upgrades do indeed dependent on that shyt.

@ HARLEM SONGSTRESS
34. WHY have I worked my butt off all day, stopped off to run some errands, and come home, only to find out Cocoa has not posted the answers yet?? No hablo ingles.

35. WHY did I have a flash back to my 1st grade picture when they do that double image effect?? Did your double image flashback feature magenta and turquoise laser beams over a black background?

@ ANON
36. Why do I get along with my whole department? Cuz your name is Tom and you love all things brown.

37. Why do companies complain about "clock-watchers," but ain't trying to pay folks any OT? See answer #25.

38. Why do people who do the least work get the "equity adjustments," while you slave away and only get a COLA? See answer #25

39. Why is my institution fly paper for the walking wounded? LOL!!! Are you included in this number?

40. Why do people like hearing the same answer, verbatim, from my white boss as opposed to my fine, Black ass? Because pink is the new black.

@ HARLEM SNOWFLAKE
41. Why does my boss pay me change to work my A$$ off, justified by the fact that it's a "nonprofit" and then describe what we get paid to potential funders as a "living wage?" Living where? Idaho? WTH is a ‘living wage?’ Would that have ‘supported’ Jackie O’Nassis had her rich b!tch azz ever decided to lift a wage-earning finger? You know, a little pocket change for a fun hobby? I'se just sayin...

CG./R.

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Why?

Why do folks on the job ask for something to be done; you tell them that it's done; provide proof that it's done and - yet - they still manage to ask you again if it were actually done?

WHAT WORKPLACE WHY'S DO YOU WANT ANSWERED? ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE A SWEET ANSWER FROM COCOA...

Happy Faux-Friday!

CG./R.

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The Nickname Game

No my first name ain't baby...it's Janet...Miss Jackson if ya nasty!
-- Janet Jackson, Nasty Boys

While nobody on the job has referred to me as baby - well, at least no one outside of those dudes in the awful neo-vests - I do have problem with folks automatically referring to me as another four letter word:

"Rach"

Following five years working at four different jobs (yes, I know...a whole 'nother post entirely), I have only met five people who I would deem a friend. Therefore, why on earth are the folks at work taking liberty to address me by a nickname?

While at my first two jobs, I made it a point to let all offenders - regardless of corporate rank or race - know that what they deemed my nickname was a sound and not my name.

Now that I am on job #4, I have finally been able to accept the fact that there are some folks at work do not like me, just like I do not care for many of them. Yet, we are all in the same gang at work and realize that we must feign many things on the job So, what a better way to do so other than with a pet name?

Cocoa Girl's Benefits of Using Nicknames in the Workplace

1. Nicknames help feign "like." So you cannot stand the scuzzy-ho seated in the cubicle next to you, yet you somehow got stuck working said ho on a special project for boss man? Continue to not stand her on your own time, but be sure to effectively feign friendship in front of the big guy. Try on "Scuz" vs. "Scuzzy Ho" for size.

2. Nicknames establish camaraderie. Granted, you purposely selected Harlem as the spot for your new condo because what the neighborhood lacks in amenities it makes up for in exclusivity (it's black). Yet you cannot allow your Harlem roots to overgrow your workspace. So, go out for that drink of brewsky at that Irish pub in Midtown and be sure to call your pals mono-syllabic sounds. e.g. Peter is now Pete; Doug is now "Dougie Fresh" and "Paul Gafferty" is now "Gaff.'

3. Nicknames make Cocoa seem, um, less Cocoa. Let's face it: Black folk at work already have an issued with being trusted. So there is no use in deepening the divide by appearing to be an uptight a$$ in a sea full of drunkards and shot chasers (remember: debauchery loves company!). Since Cocoa-coated types generally avoid the nickname game, purposely jump for a turn or two at key staff events, from monthly meetings to happy hour to those intense sessions with H.R.

How do you feel about being called something other than your birthname on the job?

CG

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The re-birth of the beyotch @ work

Sorry for being "out" yesterday, but Cocoa was actually on the job.

Word on the Street has it that the boss is preggers. The latter saddens all parties formerly-abused parties, because girly had put that screaming beyotch persona down for a nap…at least for a little bit. I’ve officially known the news for the past 65 hours and, yet, I still find myself trying to discount this bit of cubicle intelligence. Cocoa is just not ready (again) to report to an always-defensive, over-emotional, hella moody, and nearly schizophrenic in personality boss. Oh, and lest not forget about all that shyt that comes with the rumored pregnancy, too…

I have never worked for a pregnant person (yes, I know that men cannot birth kiddies, but I am trying to sound non-biased here); however, I also have never heard about a person being anything but unstable during said person’s first two trimesters, either. Mood swings supposedly become the norm, while attitude problems and outbursts are no longer rare events that get the office rumor mill to turning. Yup, when the preggers are turned lose on the workplace populace, all of this madness allegedly becomes a regular part of the grind.

I just hope that I can chill out and shut the f$ck up through all of her bad attitudes and mood swings. I’ve already changed the name of my site about five times, so I would hate to have to do it again. “Cocoa Girl off the Job”... “Cocoa Girl on the Job Hunt”… LOL!

Truth be told, I am probably anticipating that my modern-day slave mistress will abuse her underlings because of my own personal fantasies to stir up drama - sans recourse - for nine months. True, the dream is a little sick indeed, but I’ve always relished at the thought of knowing that I will one day get to crack the whip on my future husband (not to mention my office lackees) like he's a Mississippi slave; whine without reason; order others to do things for me as if I’m a work camp Gustapo, and eat whatever the hell I want – all guilt free – all because I’m preggers.

Let’s hope for the sake of my paycheck that my boss didn’t have these same sick dreams as child. After all, she is an O.C., too.

CG./R.

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It's Career Day @ CGOTJ!

Since I spend so much time beyotching about the workplace, careers and other B.S. (apologies for being triply-redundant), I thought it would be cool to learn more about YOUs and what you do.

Yet, of course, in true O.C. fashion, this spoiled batch of greatness could never survive everyone else sharing their cool stuff sans my seventy-five cents...

1. School?
Yes, The 'Cuse (hated it!) and UMCP (loved it!); Journalism major - Public Relations focus

2. Is that degree earning its keep?
Uh, kinda sorta. I worked in PR and am now writing... I can promote (read whore) the hell out of anything, including mahself!

3. What's my current job & industry?
Trading floor assistant/finance

4. How much longer do I plan to stay?
In this position? 4-8 months... If I hear 'that's really great, Cocoa, you rock!' over a successfully delivered officedepot.com order ONE MORE TIME, I am going to snap! At the firm? I dunno...there's a lot of money here...

5. What was my last job and why did I leave?
Public Relations AE. I wanted to write and publish a book and the crazy schedule just wouldn't allow it. I also was tired of the anti-black air of the 97-percent white industry. Oh, I also didn't want to work with 85.5 percent women (those killa-Beckies were the absolute worst!)

6. What's my dream job & am I there yet?
Weekly newspaper columnist and broadcast commentator, allowed to say whatever the f$ck I want...just so long as it's witty, honest, irreverent and non-racist and non-religiously offensive ('cept, scientology is NON exempt)... I'm getting there...

7. The longest time I've spent at one job...the shortest?
16 mos/3 mos (no, it's not a typo!)

8. How many employers have you had?
4 in 5 years (hey - abandon judgement!)

9. Have you ever been fired?
Um... I'd have to direct you here

YOUR TURN...

CG./R.

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Sisters who fight crime...

Cocoa is is dedicating today's post something truly, hands down, abso-f$cking-lutely amazing...

Woman's hair weave traps bullet as gunman opens fire (NY Daily News)
Gunfire erupted inside a Bronx nightclub early yesterday, leaving one patron dead and two others wounded - including a woman whose thick hair weave snared the bullet that pierced a door and grazed her scalp, police sources said.

Glenda Clarke, 26, was in the ladies' room at the Flamingo Lounge when the pistol-packing patron opened fire just before 6a.m., the sources said.

The slug scraped the side of Clarke's head, then got trapped in her hair, sources said.

"It got stuck in her weave," a police source told the Daily News. "It was unbelievable."

It's official: From here on out, Cocoa vows to NEVER diss another woman's hair! If homette's Frenchroll (which Cocoa is sure came with an extra-large side of H.A.M.) was able to stop a bullet, then just imagine what other great things certain sisters could do for society...

FIGHT CRIME: Girlies could flatten the car tires of thieves, or just trip up those fools trying to flee on foot.

FIGHT MO' CRIME: Force criminal confessions by threatening bodily harm (b.k.a. to this girly as 'sex'). She could also GIVE TO NEEDY by (breast)feeding all of nation's tiniest victims of hunger.

DIVERSITY TRAINING: Homegirls could teach America Something New about racial harmony and cultural diversity.The Bronx Cocoa's crime-fighting coif made this cocoa realize that the opportunities for sisters from all walks of life to better society are endless, I tell ya. Just endless!

CG./R.

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The 1000th reason why men are...

easier/better/less-stressful to work with than women.

Exhibit A: Cocoa's morning's IM convo with another colleague...

Cocoa Girl: oh my goodness...it's return of the navy blue skirt!!!! do you remember it...the one that was ALWAYS worn inappropriately!
Cocoa Girl: ...with black pumps; with white pumps; with a white dress shirt and cream pumps!
Cocoa Girl: Today it is paired with a cream-colored shirt, light gray (perhaps were once cream-colored) suede pumps and a black brocade jacket...
Coworker: sigh
Coworker: oh dear
Coworker: the fashion karma on that desk is not good. in related news, I saw the hippo this AM on my way in the bldg, said hi and then walked as quickly as I could, away...
Coworker: ...away
Coworker: ...away
Cocoa Girl: hahaha...she is such a moo-moo
Cocoa Girl: meaning cow
Cocoa Girl: and!
Cocoa Girl: what she probably should be wearing to accommodate that front end! LOL
Cocoa Girl: ok, i am going to be nice now, or, at least, I will cease being mean. but she is sooooo mean. yuck!
Coworker: sooooo mean
Coworker: as a friend would say, a biznatch
Cocoa Girl: hahaha... i can't understand why she is so bitter. she has a relatively nice looking husband; grew up with tons of money; has two ivy degrees; makes pretty good money, and has a lot of friends. so, what's there to be so d$mn mean about?
Cocoa Girl: oh, that's right! because she ain't cute!
Cocoa Girl: oops, I said i would stop
Cocoa Girl: ok, I am stopping again...lol

Yes, Cocoa is guilty as charged!

Now, don't get me wrong: I have always been a woman's woman, a girly-girl a heart who trade in her glam card for nada. Long story short, I have always LOVED being a woman, which probably is due to the sheer force of females in my family. With every new generation, us sistahs always manage to outnumber the brothas, big time. So, I kind of grew up accustomed to spending every waking moment, day and many hours with poor yet self-professed divas, love-torn psychotics, whores of the attention-seeking and fashionista variety, and insane drama queens fit to lead any top-rated soap "bopper."

So, what's the source of all my beef with the fishees (alter-gay-male persona's disdainful term for chicks) on the job?? There is something inside of us -probably not much unlike that thingy used by animals to sense hostilities in their co-animals - that can turn the most-minute work issue into a f*cking Officegate! Women on the job also have a tendency to take issues of the business matter more personally than men, which can account for tons of unnecessary stress and cattiness on the job. As if my black, struggling artist living in Manhattan arse needs to deal with any more of that in any area of my life...

So, what? Am I generalizing? Am I being unfair, or am I dead-on?

Cocoa wants to know: what's your workplace sexual preference?




CG./R.

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An open letter to Miss 'Scooze me'

You may not remember me, but we sort of met on the local #1 one Tuesday morning. Like most of the passengers, I was headed to work. Remember the lady with the hardhat? She probably was reporting to her construction gig. White dude in the gray suit with the yamaka (think: mini-scully meets the doo-rag)? Yup, he was on the way to somebody's office for sure. Hey, even the Young Jeezy look-alike sporting the BK-logo polo with the popped collar was on his way to work (sorry, but he actually was not reppin’ Brooklyn). So, pretty much every-damn-body on that train was headed to a job, which they more than likely obtained as the result of an interview, which they more than likely obtained due, in part, to a decent resume, which they more than likely were able to compile based on a decent (or at least 'working') command of the English language.

Now, as far as where in the Sam hell your Huck-Finn azz was/IS going (in life), Cocoa has no clue. At first glance, my boy Vic and I assumed that like all the other teens on the train, you were also headed to school, where you could receive some level of education, which would one day help you compile a decent resume, because you would actually like to apply what you learned in school to the rest of your life and get a job, right?

Well, in spite of our education, common sense and combined 61 years spent on this earth, your now-famed exit from the subway – and thank God, our lives – taught the both of us we still have a LOT to learn:

“Ooey...ooey...scooze me. Scooze me, ya'll, I godda ged off. Scooze me ebbybodee…."

If the train would have been any quieter at this horrific moment in Negra time, I would have been deaf. Had it been any more packed, I would have been a sardine in hot sauce. And, had I been any more disgusted and utterly amazed at what I’m sure you felt was a “cute” little speech impediment, I would have been a blonde, blue-blooded, rich b!tch from Boston named Buffy.

Forgive me if I seem a tad harsh, but the complete absence of cotton gins, burlap “slacks,” Negro spirituals and whips really had me confused as to the origins of your dialect. Whether from the Continent, the Islands or the South, I would hope that your mother, mammy, mami, mom, mommy or mama did not teach you to talk like so.

So, unless you plan to earn a living by playing an extra in EVERY slave epic made for the big screen, working the chitterling circuit, or by miming your way toward a paycheck, please drop ignant speech. It is not cute.

Sincerely,
Cocoa Girl

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Coworkers say the darndest things!

The following conversation took place last Friday afternoon and involved Cocoa Girl and one of her "Asian" colleagues:

AC: (plopping onto Cocoa’s desk from nowhere): Oh, Cocoa…how is your book coming along? And, oh!, are you on your website…Colored Girl on the Job???

Cocoa (*blank stare* and three-second pause for added-hostile effect): Um, no. Why in the hell would I have a website called “colored” anything? You are from Texas, so you know that word is not a good thing… (now, anyone who knows Cocoa knows I’d probably cop ‘colored’ for my next site, but that's between us...)

AC: Oh, well, if I were being funny or silly, I would call myself something silly.

Well, you nosey beyotch, let Cocoa be the first to tell you that you are F*CKING silly!
A few pieces of key information with ya, just in case I'm seeming a bit harsh right now...

1. Never under any circumstances has Cocoa EVAH shared her on-the-side gig with a coworker.

2. Never under any circumstances has Cocoa EVAH told this chick that she has a blog site of about (of all things) WORKING WHILE BLACK!!!!!!!! For the love of God, I work in Corporate f*cking America at a bank that has presented more drama than a Knot’s Landing, Dynasty and The Colby’s marathons combined.

3. Never under any circumstances has Cocoa EVAH used the words n!g, negro, darkie, negras OR colored in the presence of a non-Cocoa colleague; therefore, where in the Sam hell did she find the sheyot??

Sooooooooo……the only way Little Miss Nosey A$$ knows about my book and blog is because she likes to creep up on my shyt like she's Leroy Green (betcha don't remember that one)!

Bloggers, brethren…be warned! Colleagues of bloggers, stop being so damn nosey...

CG./R.

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Size discrimination on the job?

Cocoa can admit that she never really considers what it's like to live, socialize and work as someone facing a different form of discrimination. Perhaps the latter is because, as a citizen - a black citizen - of the good ol' United States of America, I do not believe that any form of discrimination is worst, more widespread or long-term than that faced by black Americans.

In just five short years spent as an employee, I have been on several interviews where the hiring manager is sincerely shocked that that name and that 'accent' and that resume belongs to that woman sitting across their desk. Also, I am more than familiar with the "you'll meet with so-in-so for 30 minutes," only to barely get three minutes before a silent "so-in-so" sends me back to the lobby. All this said, I am quite familiar with race-based discrimination on the job. Yet, after watching Brent get sidetracked on the Apprentice, I began to wonder how a stroll through the office in his shoes would feel.

If interviewing/securing a job as a black person is sometimes difficult, what would it be like to face the same feat while overweight or (even worst?) overweight and black...

While I have never been "fat" or "chubby," I think I'd be correct to assume that size discrimination is real and prevalent. Hell, out of two trading floors chock with a few hundred workers, not one - man or woman - is obese. One guy is heavy, but he is not a trader, sales person or "a reflection of the boss" assistant. Nope, he works in IT.

A letter from a reader at workingwounded.com, sadly sums up the experience of interviewing with extra poundage:

There is a hidden job discrimination issue that is rarely discussed - bias against overweight people. We're not given the same opportunities to advance within the company or make as much money as those of "normal" weight. We're thought of as less productive than our thinner colleagues.

I presently weigh 320 pounds and have been unemployed for two years. I can see them look at me in interviews in that "You are a fat pig" way, and I know that they can't wait to get me out of the office.

I work (or I am trying to work) in the media industry, so I realize that image is important. They want attractive people working for them. I know this because I wasn't always obese and, when I was thinner, I usually either got the job or at least a second interview. As I've gained weight, those days are over.

...If you can't take care of yourself, how are you going to take care of our company?" is the general thinking. However, usually they'll just lie and say to the candidate that they found someone with more qualifications.

...There are some countries that have made size discrimination illegal, but it is still that dirty little secret that companies won't admit to in their hiring practices. It's only when you lose weight, when you truly realize just how bad people have been treating you.

If being totally honest, I can say that I have always wondered how some people could present themselves as fitness trainers when they are out of shape and/or very much overweight themselves. Matter of fact, there are certain gyms in NYC with written policies against overweight employees working as fitness experts. Do you think such policies are fair? Do you think they are wrong? Are there any circiumstances under which a company should be able to refuse one employment based on their size?

Thoughts? Opinions? Experiences
CG/R

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Something fun for Thursday...

Age Warning: PG-27

How much of a TRUE hip-hop fan are you? See how many of these classics you can get right by matching them with the correct song title or, AT THE VERY LEAST, the right artist.

Yeah...booooyeeee!

1. "You could be my mama and I'll be your boy..."
ANSWER: ELECTRIC RELAXATION, A TRIBE CALLED QUEST

photo by Adam P.W. Smith

2. "Started wit' a pow, now I'ma end it wit a bang..."
ANSWER: WE GOT OUR OWN THANG, HEAVY D

3. "I'm all that and then some; short, dark and handsome..."
ANSWER: SCENARIO, TRIBE

4. "...22 years ago to keep it on track."
ANSWER: THEY REMINSCE OVER YOU (T.R.O.Y.), PETE ROCK & C.L. SMOOTH

5. "...fake hair in the back, plus green contacts."
ANSWER: YOU CAN'T PLAY WITH MY YO-YO, YO-YO

6. "Like a floozy, I'm choosy; I don't fall for tricks."
ANSWER: I'M NOT HAVIN' IT, MC LYTE & POSITIVE K

7. "Boys: yeah, that's my woman; and girls: yeah, that's my man."
ANSWER: A TEENAGE LOVE, SLICK RICK

8. "The object of your affection is a three-dot connection..."
ANSWER: SLOW DOWN, BRAND NUBIAN

9. "What's up love...how ya doing?"
ANSWER: I GET AROUND, TUPAC

10. "Six-foot-three and maybe a quarter of an inch bigger..."
ANSWER: TREAT EM RIGHT, CHUBB ROCK

11. "...two miles an hour, so everybody sees you." (Should you miss this one, write your loved ones; shut down your station and report to the nearest - and highest - bridge immediately.)
ANSWER: SUMMERTIME, DJ JAZZY JEFF AND THE FRESH PRINCE

12. "...make ya body tingle, like, you got the fever for the flava of a Pringle."
ANSWER: THE RHYTHM, KWAME

13. "We fight every night, but that's not Kosher..."
ANSWER: LOOKING AT THE FRONT DOOR, MAIN SOURCE

14. "The only lying I would do is in the bed with you."
ANSWER: (WHY'D SO MANY THINK IT WAS KWAME???) PASSING ME BY, PHARCYDE

15. "I stole your girl while you was in prison..."
ANSWER: TOP BILLING, AUDIO TWO (MC MILK DEE AND DJ GIZ)

****BONUS****

"I'm a diamond, you're a cubic zirconia."
ANSWER: HIP-HOP JUNKIES, NICE & SMOOTH

BTW, Cocoa says: "For you to beat me, it’s gonna take a miracle."
(AIN'T NO HALF STEPPIN', BIG DADDY KANE)
CG./R

CLICK HERE FOR SOME MORE COCOA...

Apprentice, Week 4: R.I.P. Fatty "Black"

Other than the fact that yet another loserette decided to cry for sympathy, Trump's dismissal of Fatty "Black" was the ONLY - Cocoa repeats, ONLY - interesting thing about episode #4. And even this shyt was a given.

What did prove interesting, however, was the realization that Brent (above) shares a common issue (problem?) with many black folks who have also experienced their fare share of unfair treatment on the job. And, just like with many black folks, he did not know how to handle it.

Now, before the hatemail comments of sorts start to fly, let it be known that Cocoa is not at all suggesting that Brent’s brand of discrimination is of the Black man’s proof. Yet, I do feel the pettiness, marginalization and stereotyping that he faced at the hands of his teammates (coworkers) and Trump (boss) is not much unlike the covert everyday, bullshyt that Cocoas face when competing in an environment where they’re the minority. Also, not much unlike many of his workplace siblings in strife, Brent’s long-term issues, resentment and bitterness got the best of him and ultimately ruined his chances for success. Simply put: he self-destructed.

With Brent’s first day on the job, everyone could tell that he was still the fat kid left out of all the fun. He even said so himself on camera, foolishly choosing to explain why he was the last one picked for a team. Fast-forward four challenges - and four chances to prove himself something different - later and dude is still the resident fat, sloppy, irresponsible, non-hip, insecure, squeaky-voice AND angry fatso who failed to contradict nan one negative impression. So, he had to go.

My first job; first partially-impartial boss, and first bonafide cubenemy all taught me that while I may be unfairly stereotyped at work, it is my responsibility to do everything in my power to not prove the mofos correct. Meaning, if some really really whiny, yet racially savvy, WG cries to paint me hostile, then I need not break out the street-Cocoa when confronting the situation with an equally-ignorant H.R. Or, if I somehow figure out that my colleagues are questioning (to the boss) my ability to be a true team player, then I need not sit an Underground Railroad distance from every last one of them beyotches at the monthly staff meeting. Or - in the case of Fatty "Black" Brent - if your teammates keep yelling that you are difficult to work with and suck at your job, then CHILL THE F$CK OUT!

Worst all of was the fact that Brent was never once to blame for his team's losses. Not even last night. So, he should have been able to return to the Trump suite unscathed. Hell, Cry-me-a-rive Drea created the monstrosity that caused their team to lose the challenge. So she was fit for the firing squad. Yet, instead of allowing shyt run its course, Brent decided to launch this "everybody's unfair to me because I'M FAT" tirade and everybody rode his defensive, rude and hostile outburst like the joyride that it was. He was right - they all did want that figger gone - including the other (real?) minority on his team. In the end, he made their dreams come true, while ending his very own. The same way I did on jobs number 1 and 2, when I failed to realize that the only way to (try and) combat a stereotype is to make sure that you do not fulfill it.

COCOA'S PINKSLIP PREDICTION FOR NEXT WEEK:

I dunno, but Roxanne "I'm in love with a skrippa" Shante (girly's got a thang for tabletop earrings - the ones last night were beyond terrible!) is shown proclaiming to some unwitting fool "RESPECT....RESPECT." So, Cocoa will most definitely tune back in.

CG./R.

CLICK HERE FOR SOME MORE COCOA...

CASUAL FRIDAYs: Mentors really do matter!

Cocoa has never really had a career mentor. Yet, thanks to the skyrocketing numbers of unbelievably-ignant black folk, she realizes just how important a little positive influence is for the Race -- especially those in the public eye.

That's why, in the spirit of a Cocoa Girl classic-post, Trick Get a Job!, girly girl (moi!) is dedicating this run of CASUAL FRIDAYs to a little MENTOR MADNESS!

Go team!!! Woo-hoo!! S-C-O-R-E... Oops, sorry, wrong kind of madness this March...

Mentor #1: Oscar-time Xzibit...

...paired with...

...Oscar winners Three 6 Mafia. If you pay close attention you will notice that both rapper-sets appear to be down, yet Xzibit is doing the black folk and the global community a huge favor by not exhibiting his extra negrodian flava.

Mentor #2: Angela Bassett...

...paired with...

...Vivica A. Fox. While both Cocoas are foxes in their own right, Miss Fox could stand to learn a few lessons from the enchanting, elegant and well preserved Ms. Bassett. Namely being black don't crack. So stop sweating that Botox needle like it's vile of illegal shyt.

Mentors #3 & #4: Al Reynolds...

... and John Legend...


...paired with...

...Miss Jay. As pictured above, Miss Alana and Miss Joanna easily show Lady Jay how to match some clothes. Their looks - and fabu-but-not-too-feminine poses - also show us that just because you're gay doesn't mean you have to look like it.

Mentor #5: Tiger Woods...


...paired with...
...Terrence Howard. When it comes to hiding the fact that you're black, nobody does it betta than Tiger! Howard should take note of this Caublanasian's animal instincts at distracting from the color of his skin. Namely...an Arayan (not ethnic-looking) white wife and strong denial of his blackness from the very start - NOT mid-way through his career (Howard recently noted that he is not black, but "biracial" and claims he never heard of Fitty Cents until quite recently).

Mentor #6: Cherry Treats...

...paired with...

...Keyshia Cole. True, Cherry may be a toy-horse, but few can argue that she don't know how to rock an unnaturally-colored coif. Besides, human or not, she gotta be a sistah. Girly's name is Cherry for crying out loud AND she prefers all things Cyan. For that, Keyshia should definitely lend her an ear...

HAPPY FRIDAY!

CG./R.

CLICK HERE FOR SOME MORE COCOA...

The Apprentice, Season 5, Week 3...

It's only the 3rd week and already somebody's crying, while observant-Jews and faux titties are under attack!

Shall we?

What's up with Roxanne and Allie's looks of "confusion" (black girl codeface for anger)? Fatty "Black" didn't get fired. One miss thang even barked, "if Brent stays, part of me is just going to want to go home..." and then storms to the bathroom cryuing after she realizes he's still around. Cocoa says: Get a grip, beyotch! You're on the job, so act like the 31-year-old, self-made millionaire who would whore-out granny and eat-the-young-like-pate, steely-eyed cut-throat beyotch that you are! Now dry up those eyes and go make mama proud!

Gangsta Len is at it again and is flinging around the term "bullshyt" because two of his teammates are taking off time to celebrate some Jewish holiday. Don't ask me which one. There are so many. Who for the love of God can keep up with them all? But, hey, as someone who schooled in NY and now works in Manhattan (a.k.a. New Yerusalem City), Cocoa is not complaining one bit. Nah sir, I'se sho 'preciates all them days off. So, Mazel Tov, Yum Kippur and all that other hot shyt!

Challenge #3: Plan a fun and informative retreat to educate GM’s top auto dealers on the new 2007 Chevrolet Tahoe. Cocoa is glad that this week's challenge is actually, well, challenging. Andrea and Talk-Over-You Theresa volunteer as project managers. Cry me a river Drea says: "If we lose, I'm bringing [Fatty "Black"] in the boardroom, no matter what."

Cocoa's commercial break cuss-out: Apparently, fat IS the new black.

Shyt like this is what makes this "minority" not want to deal with certain f#cking folks at work! Cocoa will not discount the fact that Brent is hella annoying, but I don't think these BEYOTCHES are fair to force his removal before he actually f*cks up! They're plotting to take him down regardless if he is to blame! Yet (index finger to the chin), in all of her rage, Cocoa does acknowledge the fact that "plot" should be the operative f*cking word here because the show is meant to f$cking entertain. So, with that said...carry on, eye gougers, carry on!

This is Theresa. Cocoa's take? Chicky's a serious control freak of a beyotch with really, really great boobies (sorry, but this Cocoa is only flanking some C's)! I absolutely loved-ded girly's, ahem, auntie's (she looks a bit, um, mature) bossiness and gall, but her team, well, hated it! Not only did Reesy's dolls make for excellent incentive to keep the straight-male audience tuned into NBC, but they also helped to generate the show's most-memorable quote ever (thanks Gangsta Len!):

"Theresa's brain is so small she can’t even understand anything. I wish her
brain was bigger than her boobs!"

Cocoa's commercial break cuss-out #2...

The show producers are really working my f*cking nerves! I just love the way they take stereotypes and run with them for the audience's viewing pleasure. Now, granted, Brent is an el chubbo who probably throws back waay too many foods of the non-salad variety, but this doesn't make it right for the producers to only show him while he's eating. First, we saw him wolfing down four bagels with tons of bvtter and then this we witnessed this crap... Bastards!

The teams are off... Thanks to Auntie Reesy, the bad news bears of team Gold Rush are totally screwing up, while Andrea shows us she's truly a star. Drea even saved the day AND some gotdamn tears (thank you, reality TV gods!) by being quick to solve a "crisis." Auntie Reesy, on the other hand, spent too much time arguing with her bad a$$ kids...

Lenny dropped the ball big time when he failed to order a generator for the stage's electricity. Bryce (in his own words) 'saved Lenny's ass.' While Cocoa really likes the O.G. element that Lenny brings to the show, she was hella disappointed with his failure to accept responsibility for this mistake. Memo to Auntie Reesy: If the Russian ain't a budgin', have one of your other lackeys order the crap and move on.

Gold Rush mistake #473,396, the "models" could not tell the dealers SH-YIT about the product! (Hang ya head, Cocoas...) Honorary-Cocoa, Charmaine, hired a bunk-a$$ comedienne who insulted EVERYBODY at the event. Worst off, she even had the nerve to pay the chick for her terrible performance!

If you're anything like Cocoa, you're saying to yourself right now: LET'S JUST END THIS PAINFULNESS ALREADY...PULEEEEEEEZE! And, who I am to deny you pleasure...

THE BOARDROOM: Auntie Reesy and her dunces are in the losers seat. Although H.C. Charmaine screwed up the most-important elements of the challenge, Reesy brangs Tarek and the Russian into the boardroom. The former would prove to be her biggest mistake yet, as neither of these guys was truly to blame for her team's loss. Oh! M.C. Len also provided us with the second-most memorable quote in Apprentice history. When asked by Trump who he thinks should be fired, Lenny replied: "Hell, fire them both!" Classic, absolutely classic, ya'll!

COCOA'S PINKSLIP PREDICTION FOR NEXT WEEK:
Trump. If somebody doesn't get shot, kidknapped, amputated, ran-over, stabbed, arrested or gay-married within the next two weeks, then Cocoa might have to find a new Monday-night hobby. Trump claims this season is the best...well, brang it on!!!!!

CG./R.

CLICK HERE FOR SOME MORE COCOA...

The 'mini' made me do it!

Do, do, do, do, doo...do ooh...
Do, do, do, do, doo...

As around the sun the earth knows she's revolving
And the rosebuds know to bloom in early May
Just as hate knows love's the cure
You can rest your mind assure
That I'll be loving you always...

As now can't reveal the mystery of tomorrow
But in passing we'll grow older every day
Just as all that's born is new
You know what I say is true
That I'll be loving you always ...
-- Stevie Wonder, 'As'

These lyrics, along with seven other songs from Mr. Wonder and a small, silver Satan incarnate of a machine, is the reason why it's 1208a and Cocoa is more than two hours late going to bed. What's this got to do with a Monday morning? If you're a black working person, you should already know the answer. However, I recognize that I'se have some non-Cocoa folks checking me out, so in the spirit of workplace diversity, I'll spell it out:

A certain employed person of color will now undoubtedly be late for work today, for like the 364th time this past year.

I don't know about you, but GOOD music is like crack to this Cocoa...can't be a productive f*cking adult with it, but absolutely cannot get by without it, either. Based on my habit of sorts, I should have KNOWN better than to pick up the I-peezy with only 59 minutes left until lights out. I thought about selecting a playlist "Hip Hop - New" (nope!); "Electronica" (nah) and deiced to just freestyle through the alphabetical song list. I was doing okay at first, meaning I was still being productive, cleaning while bobbing my head to the beat. Be Happy kicked off the dishwashing session, while Brotha, Brown Sugar, Beautiful Struggle and Black Girl Pain, and Can't Keep Running Away got me a little hyped to the point of where I began taking a mental note of The Kitty taking note that she might need to run for cover. With that, I decided to (try to) calm my ass down.

Everything beyond Pharcyde became a total blur... All I can remember is taking off my fleece and proceeding to two-step and spin about wildly as if competing in a Britney/Justin danceoff with that fierce be-yotch Miss Jay! Do I Do, led me to the Stevie song list, which led me to Part Time Lover, My Cherie Amor, and today's featured hit, As. In the short span of 20 minutes (which after several hits of the back, replay, arrow stretched into 1.5 hours), I think I managed to fantasize myself as a fabulous gay man, a dancing queen (of the chick variety), and a newly-minted fiancee, being serenaded by my new fiance all at once!

Now, if this Cocoa could only find a way to imagine herself a punctual employee, then she'd really be onto something. G'nite and Good morning!

CG./R.

CLICK HERE FOR SOME MORE COCOA...

Crazy colleagues part I

Why are my colleagues not interesting? Since my blog is dedicated to working while black and female, I'd really love to be one of those bloggers who can write EVERYDAY about the folks on their job AND keep people entertained by doing so. But I just can't. At least not with my current colleagues....

Let's take it back to Cocoa's more interesting, Pretty Ridiculous days of her former career. BTW, for those of you new to C.G.O.T.J., the letters "p" and "r" really stand for public relations:).

J.P.
Kind of Tara Reid meets, well, um, Tara Reid, blonde, always messy hair and covert ghetto antics (did I mention she was from the backwoods of Tennessee?), J.P. ALWAYS had some serious shyt going on. Her daily contributions to the office generally consisted of label-whoring online, stumbling off the elevator high - and NOT from weed - being very unproductive, or giving some melodramatic performance of a lifetime. Why all the drama? In the words of my wannabe socialite boss who would have drank her urine hot had she offered: "J.P. just has SO much stress with her father being Upstate (Cocoa codeword for 'the penitentiary') and her "granny," the socialite, who pays for everything, yet just won't accept her humble beginnings, and her drug-addicted (read crackhead) mom back home who's married to that drug-dealer (black) guy."

Cocoa said (and still says!): Yes, unfortunate, indeed, but that crap has NADA to do with the fact that her evil, cut-throat self rarely completed an assignment.

R.G.
Stereotypical J.A.P. to the fullest, R.G. was also a cokehead who, like Jen, shared an affliction for asserting their worth through labels and status. So, you can only imagine how she conflicted she became when learning that this little Cocoa had accomplished several things she had not and owned several (authentic) things that she did not own. Matter of fact, she was actually kind of psycho like this with all of her Cocoa-coated colleagues. "Cocoa… (while squatted next to my desk, peering into my purse, lapel pressed back) OMG!...is this Prada real???" "Cocoa (while I'm typing and she's fingering my bracelet...attached to my f#cking arm!) holy shyt! Are these real diamonds???" I could go on and on and on, but then I think...why?

Though us black girls are supposed to be all tough and things, Cocoa can admit to getting a little um, intimidated, when girly began traipsing into work with replicas of all of my accessories. Each time she displayed a new buy not unlike my own, she made it a point to model the stuff for me. Even my bosses were like "WTF?!?!" That schizo was totally Single White Female'ing me. So, I had a right to be a little scurred, right?

R.E.
The only girl in a family full of big-business boys, R.E. actually 'ran' (if that's what one could call it) our agency, which happened to be a spin-off of her family's already successful agency. So, perhaps because she was the only girl in a family full of boys, R.G. had a few problems running herself like a lady. As CEO of our firm, which dealt with some of the country's leading companies, homegirl's hair was NEVER combed. While eating in front of colleagues and clients, she always had the likes of salad dressing, ketchup or wine adorning her entire oral region as if she were holding the lead in some weird, food-fetish porn flick. Her most-famous move, however, involved the company bathroom, exhibitionism and squatting, as she liked to chat up folk while pissing with the stall door open.

Oh, and all of these folk are just a few weirdoes from Job #1 only. No wonder I only stayed three months.


CG./R.

CLICK HERE FOR SOME MORE COCOA...

Thursday, per usual...

Cocoa's morning started off pretty much the same way as it usually does, with the exception of my jolt to the cleaners before work because I'se stale out of pants (get it?).

So...after waking at 5a, COMPLETELY against my will (it was the feline's fault...more on her later), I jumped out of bed at 6:42a and started the morning's mad dash...

A bit of basic arithmetic says that if I had to board the #2 at 730a, then a girly had a mere 48 minutes until takeoff. Yet, a bit of reality says that I spent at least 15 of said minutes (nearly 1/3 of my time) tending to an unthankful and hifalutin Miss Alexa L.V. (Lenox-Verd, not Louis Vuitton, people!). For the confused of you, Miss Alexa L.V. is my slave-mammy of a kitten.
She is always unthankful; turns on me in the blink of an eye; only wants to see me when I'm presenting her with a meal, and always has me fearful of a serious LASHING should I EVAH! piss her off. Our relationship spans only two weeks and yet I feel as though I've been Kizzying her behind for centuries. So, per usual, I cleaned her Playkitty-mansion of sorts litter box; poured fresh litter; swept her area in the living room (b/c Lord knows I didn't have time enough to sweep the ENTIRE apartment); gave her some fresh food; unearthed her toys and presented them for her tri-daily once-over at...that is, until I leave the room, after which time she will actually play with them.

Time: 657a.

With a 33 minutes until zero, I hopped in the shower; put on some lotion; "combed" my hair and zipped over to the cleaners at about 712a. As I'm dressing, the cat that usually goes out of her way to ignore me HAS THE NERVE! to kick her little ball with a bell down the long hallway toward me.

An indignant I does nothing. "Put the other leg in the slack..."

This time she noses the ball a bit further down the hall, closer to me.

A stank ho I does nothing. "Hmph, heifer wants to play now...after hissing me for the past 15 days...where's my damn socks??"

She makes another move with the ball and this time lays down to just stare at me.

Being the old softy that I am, I decided that if the cat was trying to play nice, that I could take a few tens of seconds to play nice, too. With that realization, I pulled on my socks and happily, yet quietly tipped-toed toward her area...

"hiiiissssssssss!!" And, with that, she was gone.

Flippin, F$CKING, fargan A! I am so tired of this sh!t! I rescued this chick off the streets and all I get are flippin' hisses EVERY TIME I try to approach her. Ya'll better call PETA, the humane society, Kitty Kind or who the f%ck every, now! I am this close to putting her ass back on the street. Do you know that she woke me up this morning because she was playing with those flippin' balls with the little bells inside?!?!?!? Yes, I did buy them for her, but I regret it to no end, because my ready-for-work-the-night-before routine now consists of searching for four of these balls and nearly suffering an anxiety attack because I can only find 2 out of four. YET, she knows where the flip the other two are located!!! She hides them from me b/c she knows that I'm taking them for the night! And, I should be able to do so: It's MY damn apartment and I don't want to wake up three times each night to repossess her loud ASS toys!

Okay, I need some caffeine. Be back in a little bit...

CG./R.

CLICK HERE FOR SOME MORE COCOA...

Apprentice week #2...

O-KAY! So, we're back with week 2 of The Apprentice, not the "Apprenti," as super black man Randal so eloquently put it during last season's finale. So, shall we begin?

First things first...Trump's daughter looks fierce, and I do not care what anyone says: THE. SUIT. IS. FLY.

Extracurricular boobage in all.

Dude on the left is daddy, while homey on the right channeling Fire Marshall Bill is Bill, the winner from that other season where the self-professed skirt chaser Kwame failed to put the smackdown on Homorosa and failed to win the competition. Ivanka and Bill filled in for Trump's usual los vatos, Carolyn and George. Don't know where they are...perhaps off filming a sex tape to leak to the media for added publicity or something. The NY Post claims this to be the best season ever" but I just haven't seen it yet. Cocoa says... expect the Ultimate Hustler Trump to bring the hype...

Eww. Just gross and so to' up...somebody please fire her already for lack of hair care skills. I would tell you her name, but then I just wonder "for what??" I am normally not so hard on White Chocolate, but chicky is from NYC and KNOWS better than to hop on TV without taming the coif! I also want her gone because she pulled a serious 'stereoptypical white girl' move, which will help all the 'haters' reaffirm her clan as whiny and cut-throat. More on that one later...

This is Lenny... Homey is so my [insert the black word that Cocoa is seriously trying to abandon]. I would tell you all the reasons why, but then wondered 'why?' Lenny is from Jersey by way of the former U.S.S.R. (nuff said). He spent the entire challenge putting the verbal smack down on his team's pre-pubescent project manager. Homey decided he was tired of listening to the "boss" go on and on and on and on (sound familiar?) without going any damn where at all. So, he grabbed two chicks and bounced to get some actual work done. In the words of Ms. Maya Wilkes, Oh Hell Yes! That's what Cocoa is talking about...I am going to bust that move on my boss at next week's staff meeting.

On second thought...

hmm...

...

...maybe not.

Okay, back to this week's "challenge." Unlike last week's "Pimp that Blimp" task (no, it wasn't really called that...this is NBC, negras, NOT the Oscars!), this assignment wasn't really challenging at all. Trump charged the crew with creating a text message campaign to promote a new (ooh!) razor. The team that convinces the most folk to text message a numeric code wins! Not that hard, right? Yet, on second second thought, Cocoa does have some very paid friends who damn near pop an artery when asked to text (versus call) her. I mean, damn, it’s a 10-cent message and you’re a flippin’ dentist for crying out loud!!!

The challenge has just started and Fatty "Black," season 5's token minority of choice, is already acting a fool. The project manager, Pepi, is telling FB the team wants him to go home, but that figga Brent ain't having it! None-too-cute chick claims he "physically threatened her" and even tosses in a few key terms for heightened dramatic effect, including "in my face," "confronted," "angry" (sound familiar, anyone?). So what was the criminal defense attorney's crime? She later goes on to deny ever using the word 'threatening,' but then later uses it again in the boardroom when her a$$ is undoubtedly becoming grass. With Fatty saying say-no-go, the team finished its brainstorm session and that fine Cocoa boy Michael - who I am beginning to think is gay...dammit! - comes up with a non-MJ-bad idea to dress the team in bathrobes to attract attention.

Lenny getting all gangsta (yet again)...

He's not trying to follow the project manager's instructions and tells him to report at the event location "NOW." Click. I have a feeling that this one isn't going down without a boardroom fight. Yeah, I can see it now: Trump says "You're fired!" and Lenny flies across the conference room table, choking Trump in the neckhold. Security flies on screen and the news is all over Page Six the next morning! The only story in Apprentice history bigger than this one will be the Carolyn-George sex tape.

It's now the morning of the challenge and Team Goldrush is already off to a head start. While they're setting up shop, the other team is still sleeping. Black girl saves the day (yes, she has now officially spoken - let the downfall begin). She wakes up everyone and get them a-going...

Fatty Black done officially lost it...

After doing The Robot, The Whop, The Running Man and The Moonwalk to draw a crowd, his team STILL LOSES BY NEARLY 260 TEXT MESSAGES!

THE BOARDROOM

Again, what a doll...

Glad to know she isn't afraid of the knife. Then again, with a cut-throat, ruthless daddy like Trump, how could she be scared of a little something sharp? Ivanka was not at all impressed with either team. That's it...what more is there to say...it's her f#cking daddy's show!

In the end, Team Goldrush wins! The losers, of course, all gang up on Fatty Black with one exception. The token negra done gone mad and gone against the grain. Everybody else blames the figga and she blames the project leader. WHY??!?!?!?!?!!

Expect her descent to be muy quick.

The fugly chick gets the boot (she picked the terrible location) along with the team's project leader, Pepi. Fatty Black stays, but for how loong?!?!

Oh, as a black person, how could I forget...

Trump pulled some publicity stunt of sorts involving two negro men and a white guy where he donated clothes from (none other than) the Trump Collection (say whaa?!?!?!). All of the guys were down and out thanks to 9/11 and one even claims that he used to be a stockbroker, but after losing his job, he "fount out" that he had tremendous stress to battle. Yeah, and my 5'8, 170 lbs. behind was a runway model. Cocoa smells something a bit fishy. Perhaps it's that publicity whore Trump's overworked, overpromo'd, overhyped used-up cooch? Who does this heifer think he is fooling with this madness! MEMO TO TRUMP: We do not care if you do not care about anyone but yourself...it's okay.

Cocoa Girl's Pinkslip Prediction for Next Week:
So, I was wrong this time, Fatty Boom Boom made it through unscathed. I have no idea who is going down next week. Cocoa will, however, predict that the Cococa with the bad weave is about to get herself in a whole heap of trouble. You just watch! Never go against the clique at work -- NEVER (play sinister laugh track here)!!!!!!

CG./R.

CLICK HERE FOR SOME MORE COCOA...

You might be White in Corporate America if...

For the confused of you, yes, this is a humor blog dedicated to the experience of working while black. However, I am a Cocoa (read black) professional who truly values diversity AND who has a huge sense of humor. Translation: No hate mail, please...I'll just delete it anyway!

A little history for those new to the topic... Lil' Mo a.k.a. Monique a.k.a. "Mad White Woman" didn't care too much for a previous post of mine, entitled "You might be black in Corporate America if...," and presented the idea that there would be "chaos" if someone posted the same thing regarding white people.

I disagree and, granted, while I am not white, I think ANYONE subject to the craziness of Corporate America could laugh at such...as long as it's funny, tactful and honest. So, I'd thought I'd take a crack at it!

Disclaimer: Again, I'se a negra who has only sailed on the C.S.S. (corporate slave ship). Therefore, if your experience is different, do share, but do not waste your time ranting how mine is wrong. It's called an 'experience' for a reason...

You might be white in corporate America if...

1. With the sincerity of an innocent child, you wonder why you have to attend diversity training when everyone else at your job looks just like you.

2. Yet, you're excited to attend the office's diversity training workshop because it will be a great and entertaining break from the work routine (don't worry – black people think it's a joke, too).

3. You feel obligated to compliment a black person at your job whenever referencing their race - even under perfectly legitimate circumstances. OR…

4. You avoid (at all costs) referencing a black person’s race when talking to another black person – even under perfectly legitimate circumstances. e.g. "I'm looking for the, ah, tall brunette with brown eyes. Um, I think she’s the, uh, only other, um, brunette that works here...real pretty, ah, excellent dresser...um, she's a very, very, VERY nice girl..."

5. Without a drop of embarrassment, shame or lowered voice, you openly proclaim “What up, dog?” to colleagues another race and easily admit to said folk of another race that you love Pimp My Ride, the Ying-Yang Twins and The Parkers.

6. You instantly believe that your black colleague's new just-past-the-shoulders hairdo is real although it was only to her ears one week ago. (Award yourself double points if you EVER have thought Beyonce’s coif is real!)

7. (You might be a white woman if in corporate America if…) You compliment your black colleague's new hairstyle and immediately ask "Can I touch it?" or just go ahead and cop a feel sans permission.

8. You've been working on the same floor for two years but had never held a conversation with any of the custodial or pantry crew. (Give yourself triple points if you don’t even know their names)

9. You double take when seeing more than one black employee gathered together at once. (Tack on quadruple points if you’ve ever wondered what they’re talking about)

10. You experience a tiff with one coworker and it forever remains a problem between two people - not four, five, 10 or all colleagues, managers and eventually HR.

11. Whatever you are doing, you immediately shift focus upon hearing the words "affirmative" and "action."

12. When one-on-one with certain black colleagues, you find it difficult to hold non-work related conversations that exceed 2 minutes and if you were to ever contemplate the source, you’d notice one of the following things: they didn’t belong to a historically white sorority/fraternity; doesn’t live in your neighborhood and does not frequent pubs and/or bars.

13. You feel the need to soften any legitimately negative feedback in your black worker's annual review due to (ridculous? irrational?) notions of discrimation claims or a lawsuit.

Anymore? And, remember - EVERYBODY - this is not the Black bastian of racism. So keep those comments clean and keep 'em funny!

Have one hellavu weekend!!!
CG./R.

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Diary of a Mad White Woman...

Uh-oh...

It appears that Little Monique from Mobile, Alabama is pissed. Does anyone have any words of advice for her? And, please, no Walmart OR Piggly Wiggly jokes...we here at Cocoa Girl on the Job are all about tolerance and acceptance. Also, please try to ignore her "ghetto" comment. We know how certains get when their feathers get a tad ruffled.

Now, no mud slinging in the comments box (sorry, Monique, again, no offense was intended)!

And remember: act like the college-educated, well-raised, literate, intelligent and confident Cocoas that you are...

THE SITUATION:
Lil' Mo is upset because for some kind of interesting reasons. Her anger stems from one of my most-recent posts "You might be Black in Corporate America if..." Read through the comments below and offer girly some advice please...she just ain't listening to me!

***
Cocoa Girl says... You might be black in Corporate America if...

2. You instinctively listen for the faucet following a colleague of another persuasion's exit from the stall.

11:10 AM Permalink
15 comments
Too funny!
I always be listening for the faucet, them fools don't EVA wash they hands. Ewww!
And I always try to be the first one in the line for food. There are some people you KNOW not to eat the food after they have touched it!
Holla!

Posted by mrs.tj 11:59 AM EST

Yeah, for some reason, I've never been able to shake the faucet syndrome. LOL

Posted by Cocoa Girl 1:05 PM EST

nasty ass people not washing their hands prevents me from shaking hands and keeps me offering folks hand santizer on the regular!

Posted by Miss Ahmad 3:26 PM EST

Girl, you're too crazy! But are you being serious????

Posted by Cocoa Girl 3:56 PM EST

i am totally serious! I will turn down a handshake in a minute, and offer folks hand santizer on the rock steady!

I am a little bit of a germ freak!

Posted by Miss Ahmad 1:44 PM EST

Tsk, tsk, girl. Tsk, tsk. They must look at you like you're outta ur mind...

Posted by Anonymous 3:14 PM EST

LOL! CG, you hit it with this list! Especially #7. How about I just ignore yo azz cuz dat aint my dayum name!

People look at me funny in the bathroom cuz I wash my hands, then leave the water running til I get a paper towel to dry them. Then I use the same paper towel to turn the water off and open the door. One chic had the nerve to say I was wasteful because I let the water run and I used too many paper towels. My response...and?...so?...but my eyes said much more.

And why dude keeps blowing his nose in the SAME hankie everyday and put it in his pocket. Then wants to hand me a file. Ugh!

Posted by SingleMom 3:24 PM EST

Ignoring people who shortened my name without my permission was my fave thing to do! I think whoever's running the sanitation department at my job is a negra, because we have automatic faucets and toilets. We now even have hand sanitzer stations right at the restroom door...both exits! Some germaphobe is handling thangs at Morgan. Believe dat! LOL

Posted by Cocoa Girl 8:51 PM EST

What, only white people skip washing their hands? I work in a hospital, and wash my hands after every bathroom visit, even using the paper towel to turn the faucet off. But don't tell me black people wash their hands all the time and white people hardly ever do. I see equal amounts of white AND black people not washing their hands. Get over yourself.

Posted by Monique 11:29 AM EST

Monique - to you I say: Bull crap. You'll never convince me of such.

Also, I think someone needs a sedative...ask some of those doctors who wash their hands to hook you up with a few depressants...and some Clorox towelettes.

Posted by Cocoa Girl 9:43 PM EST

Why do I need a sedative just because I say that even black people sometimes don't wash their hands? Sorry, but all black people ain't "classy" like yourself. Like I said: get over yourself.

If someone posted something about how "you might be WHITE in corporate America if...," you would be screaming racism.

A LOT of people are sick of this crap.

Posted by Monique 7:37 PM EST

Um, Monique, don't know if you noticed but this is an African American blog.

Also, apparently you need to get over yourself. Why is it that you think black folk like myself care what you think??

Last thing, please ask yourself why you read 'white' into the comment about the hands. I don't recall saying it...

Hmm...looks to me like someone has a few issues. So, I now will ask you again to get over yourself and find a blog that matches your needs.

Posted by Cocoa Girl 9:29 PM EST

And this is what I'm talking about. If someone told you, "this is a white blog," you'd be screaming KKK or something of the like.

Mrs.TJ said, "them fools don't EVA wash they hands." Yeah, I'm sure she wasn't talking about us "vanilla" folk.

Then you start going off about "Why is it that you think black folk like myself care what you think??"

When I say people are sick of this crap, that's exactly what I'm talking about.

And you can call me rascist all you want, but that won't make it true. I just don't get why if I had a blog and told a black person to go somewhere else because it's a "white" blog, I can only imagine the chaos that would ensue, but black people can tell white people that. You want to talk about racism? Look in your own ghetto mirror.

Posted by Monique 10:07 PM EST

Uh-oh..."Diary of A Mad White Woman"...LOL

Sweetie, since you're now the representative and delegate for the entire white race, can you tell me why ya'll are so angry? Also, why is it that every time race comes up and a white person gets mad, you start to sling insults ("look in your own ghetto mirror"). Puleez. I think it's beyond obvious that I've never spent time in anyone's 'ghetto'...so perhaps you could lend me YOUR mirror?

I am not going to waste time arguing with your angry self. Go on one of those Aryan Nation boards if you do not like what you read here. Otherwise, you'll just write your comments in vain, because I will start deleting your ass. I don't tolerate classism or discrimination on my site and your cowardly comment crossed the line.

You can have an opinion, but you didn't have to go there with the 'ghetto' bit. Is that all you got? How pathetic.

Posted by Cocoa Girl 11:18 PM EST

I never said I was representing the "entire white race." And about the ghetto remark, I shouldn't have said it.

I am angry, though, at the fact that you state you don't tolerate classism or discrimination, but you yourself said this is an african american blog.

You may not believe me, but I don't look down on the african american race. I do, however, have a disdain for people who claim to be classy, then say things like, holla, on the regular, on the rock steady, and "yo azz cuz dat aint my dayum name."

The only people I know that talk like that are the ones that don't have an education.

Don't worry about me, because I won't waste my time coming to a blog of a classless, uppity woman.

Posted by Monique the "mad white woman" 12:19 AM EST

Any words for Lil' Mo? I think an affirmative action anger management group could be the way to go. She seems like one of those to moi...

CG./R.

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A fat, three blacks(?) and a few spats...

Since mah site is about working and bullsh!t (apologies for the redundancy), I thought I’d give The Apprentice one mo’ chance to prove an interesting f$cking show. Honestly, I still almost decided not to cover the sh!t. Some uber-Negra must be there runningt production room b/c there ain't NAN photo posted to the site...and nearly 12 hours have passed since the show aired!!! A girly does have pics now. So, without future adieu…

At only 8:23p EST – meaning the show wasn't set to start for another 37 minutes – I already knew who I love and who’s going to work my gotdamn nerves….there’s a pygmy of sorts cheerleader from the University of Florida; the black girl with the bad hair (more on her later); a white boy who promos himself a “baller"; a self-made yoga chick with zip college education and a net worth of 8-million plus; a quite handsome British chap, and too many damn know-it-alls.

The Don obviously went for looks over talent. Apparently, the folks over at NBC are pulling a Real World – really, really, really good-looking subjects with little – if anything at all – interesting to say. Hmph…I wonder if they’re going to snort a lot of coke b/c they’re a gay, Asian, adoptee from a broken home in the Midwest; host same-sex orgies or have tons of unprotected sex under the night-vision cam, too?

Today's recap will focus on a little interviewing 101 and those oh-so important first impressions of Cocoas!

First things, first: My honorary negra Carolyn! Damn those nasty rumors! She wasn’t replaced by Ivanka after all and Trump really does have a brain.

Nice hurr! BTW, girly's still cut-throat, b!tchy and gangsta as f#ck! Nice to have you back, gurl!




First up, the ambigu-race dude… Michael, 29, Management Consultant Manhattan
First Impression: He’s fine. We'll (hopefully/fingers crossed/hail Mary to the lawd) be seeing more of him. Oh, I think he’s a Cocoa, too, but it’s a bit hard to tell so soon. Just pay attention to how much he stresses all things related to him of the non-negro variety. The mo' he does means the mo’ nig in his blood!


Next up, Roxanne, 26, Appellate Attorney, Texas
First Impression: It’s the 1st commercial break and honey dip hasn’t said one damn thing. Hmm? Maybe that’s a real good skrategy on her part, because we all know nothing gets a black woman on a reality show in quicker trouble than her got-damn mouth. Or, maybe a seriously basic weave...

She must be related to Omorosa.


Third up, Charmaine, 27, Real Estate Consultant, Tennessee
First Impression: The 2nd ambigu-race contestant. She’s a doll, perhaps of Blasian-persuasion. She didn’t say much, either. I'm really thinking this must be a tactic amongst the "negras." Anyhoo, I bet cha we’ll find out later about how her illegitimate American father knocked up her mom during the war and struggled to make a living ever since. Big sigh. Based on credentials, not exactly sure why she’s here.

1st challenge: Pimp that Blimp (get 'em!)...Pimp that Blimp...
Project managers: “Go Gators!” Allie (Team Synergy) and Tarek, no, he's not negro (Team Gold Rush). Challenge: Use a Good Year blimp to drive business to Sam’s Club via its “Plus” membership cards. It was a pretty boring and basic challenge. One team entices customers with free manis and pedis; another gives away free Sam’s Club-branded bags.

Is fat the new Black?
The challenge just began and the fat boy is already going crazy. Apparently, the Blacks have assimilated too well to the reality TV set up, as producers are now tapping new “minorities” for dramatic effect. It’s only the 2nd commercial break and everybody’s already all over the fatty. First, he wanted to name the team “Killer Instinct” (a corporate team with the name ‘killer,’ as if some people don’t already have issues with going ballistic in the workplace). Next, dude suggested his team set up a Karaoke machine outside the store to entice folks to stop in and shop. Figga, you're in New York City proper!

Some of his teammates first thoughts expressed about him were “he can’t talk/present ideas in a clear fashion” and “he’s eccentric.” Then, the next few clips of this “minority” show him ranting “angry” about being sidelined.

Expect for more sh!t to pop off with this one.

Black out?
Third commercial break and I still haven’t seen – or heard – a snippet from the black chick! Perhaps a blessing in disguise.


The Boardroom
Team Gold Rush lost. Tarek, the project manager, decides to help everyone watching know just how non-ethnic he really is by pulling a serious Okie and selecting the slow-talking southern gal, thick-accented Russian and his another - totally innocent - dark-haired dude for a meeting in front of the firing squad. Stupid, southern chick gets the boot because she tried to stick up for the asshole Tarek on some irrational, princiaplity that has absolutely nothing to do with the workplaced called "the truth" (sounds like I once knew of this subject at some point in time outside of work...) Trump even told that mofo, Tarek, that the other chick’s “stupidity” saved his “ass.” Niice! Now, if we could only get our bosses in the real world to keep it real like so. Imagine what the workplace would be like…

Cocoa Girl's Pinkslip Prediction for Next Week:
Fatty Boom Boom. Sneak peaks into episode 2 show dude dancing during a challenge and jumping up in his fellow vanillas’ faces, talking about “if you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen.” Oh lawd!

Last clip: “Scared” white woman saying “I was confronted by [fat boy]in a very intimidating manner.”

Just you wait and see... That f!gga’s a goner.

CG./R.

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You might be black in Corporate America if...

1. Your chin/jawbone/entire face always feels strained after a staff meeting, a walk through the halls, or a ride on the office elevator.

2. You instinctively listen for the faucet following a colleague of another persuasion's exit from the stall.

3. You look upon "free" food (leftovers from a meeting?) in the workplace with great uncertaininty. Even if it's your fave dish from your fave restaurant.

4. You know better than to ask your coworker to hand you a utensil.

5. If you somehow didn't know better, you wait for said coworker to turn their back and then you promptly chuck the mis-gripped, toxic, infectious waste of a utensil in the trash.

6. You grow tense if asked for help with anything unrelated to your job function, including directions around the office, the location of the restroom, copyroom or (God forbid) the mailroom, and for car service telephone numbers.

7. Thoughts of a whip, white men and Kunta Kinte cross the mind every time you hear your name shortened (sans permission) to some annoying-a$$, monosyllabic moniker.

HAPPY FRIDAY!!!

CG./R.

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When in Rome...

...okay, so don't do EVERYTHING them n!gs do!

If I've learned anything about trying to be successful at work, it's that you cannot succeed totally going against the grain. Whether your colleagues are b!tches on designer wheels and you aim to be the "nice one," or if everyone at your job prides themselves on being exact replicas of your boss and you strive to be your "own person" (BTW, if trying to be successful in Corporate America, such a thought should NEVER cross your mind), you will inevitably fail if you fail to fit in.

So, as the saying goes: When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

It's a loaded statement, for sure, as the Romans weren’t ever been known for being a classy, humble, civilized, kind or fair bunch. At best, they were extravagant and, at their worst, they enjoyed watching people getting devoured by bigger and badder elements. Yet, if you recall being appalled upon first learning what the Romans did for “fun,” how shocked you must have been upon your first realization that you encounter many un-classy, arrogant, uncivilized, mean-as-hell and non-fair folk who like to watch people get trapped and devoured by bigger and badder elements on a daily basis. They're called coworkers.

All of us have probably worked with (or been) that one employee who just never seems to get fit with the group. Nine times out of 10, said person is just not "good" peoples. Whether justified or not, this worker generally carries a bad rep. Worst, at some point in time everybody on the job (including you?) piles onto the "we hate your guts!" bandwagon, even if said worker has never done any thing bad to them personally. I’ll admit to being that b!tch of a colleague, damned to great performance reviews, but little career advancement because my colleagues decided they did not like me or that they could not take direction from me or that they were "scared" (white girl codeword for “I'm jealous heifer out to destroy you!") of me. Yet, since spending the past 15 months in what has to be the modern day workplace's closet crazy-a$$ cousin to Rome - the trading floor - I've oddly enough done quite well, while watching a few others fail terribly.

One such case involves (literally) the nicest, sweetest, humble and most-thoughtful person at my job. Matter of fact, being that I live and work in NYC and have always punched my proverbial clock in hella cut-throat industries, said coworker wins the superlative sh!t hands down because she's the ONLY f$cking nice, sweet and humble person that I've EVER known on ANY job!

It’s not that I mean to make traditionally positive traits sound like a bad thing. Nor will I go attacking the poor girl. Besides, she is a dear friend of mine. It’s just that over the past one year, I've seen this chick cry (33 years and tears, ya'll), mope and pout about like she's that cat from Friday who just had his bike stolen. Why? All because her coworkers are “mean” (her word, not mine) to her. Worst off, not only do her coworkers hate (my word) her, but the set of coworkers next to her coworkers hates her a$$, too. Why? Because she's all of those things I mentioned above and - simply put - they're not. They're all Ivy grads, snotty as hell and black-phobic (would have made excellent slave mistresses if ya ask me) and strong, Type-A personalities. You know, the kind of folk who probably encountered some horrid event early in life that damned (blessed?) them with that "Got mine; so you betta get yours" mentality. And she’s happy-go-lucky ALL the damn time; positive and perky. Again, not saying it’s a bad thing, it’s just that considering we work in an industry where whoring your morals and principals for the sake of a few hundred-thousand bucks is expected, well, her personality is, well, a bad thing. So, in all fairness to the haters, they probably look upon girly with angst only rivaled by an office Lucifer forced to share a cubicle with our homey J.C.

Being a friend, I tried unsuccessfully to get "the nice one" to match their might with might; bitchiness with bitchiness; sh!tiness with sh!tiness and aloofness with aloofness. She said she couldn't do it...it's just "not her."

Well, apparently, a decent bonus and solid job security wasn't her either. She's now on her way to work with yet another group because the old one screwed her over royally. And she's white, just like them.

I remember graduating from college and always saying "I don't come to work to make friends...all they need to worry is my work" and thinking I had every right to feel that way. So, for a few years, I failed and failed again to feel welcomed (read: got pushed out) on the job. Then, one day, I read a career-related book’s preface by Peter Noel, which stated that black folks at work are still the only ones who believe in the system of 'meritocracy.' Yet, it has to be one of the biggest lies America has told. Translation: You won't get ahead just because you do an "excellent" job; nobody is gonna promote you’re a$$ just because you’re an excellent worker. Motherf#ckers better like you, too.

The act of fitting in on the job may not guarantee that you'll get everything you deserve, but I bet that if you don't, it can guarantee that you won't a thing at all.

CG./R.

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The email read around the world

Forgive me if I appear a little daft, but I don't really understand the fuss surrounding Dianna Abdala's email message.

In a nutshell, William A. Korman, a Boston attorney, offered Abdala a job at his firm. She accepted, but later reneged, spawning the spat of sorts below that was soon to be read all over the world (literally)...including ABC News, the Associated Press and AOL.com...

—–Original Message—–
From: Dianna Abdala
Sent: Friday, February 03, 2006 9:23 PM
To: William Korman
Subject: Thank you

Dear Attorney Korman,

At this time, I am writing to inform you that I will not be accepting your offer.

After careful consideration, I have come to the conclusion that the pay you are offering would neither fulfill me nor support the lifestyle I am living in light of the work I would be doing for you. I have decided instead to work for myself, and reap 100% of the benefits that I sew [sic].
Thank you for the interviews.

Dianna L. Abdala, Esq.

—– Original Message —–
From: William A. Korman
To: ‘Dianna Abdala’
Sent: Monday, February 06, 2006 12:15 PM
Subject: RE: Thank you

Dianna -

Given that you had two interviews, were offered and accepted the job (indeed, you had a definite start date), I am surprised that you chose an e-mail and a 9:30 PM voicemail message to convey this information to me. It smacks of immaturity and is quite unprofessional. Indeed, I did rely upon your acceptance by ordering stationery and business cards with your name, reformatting a computer and setting up both internal and external e-mails for you here at the office. While I do not quarrel with your reasoning, I am extremely disappointed in the way this played out. I sincerely wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.

- Will Korman

—–Original Message—–
From: Dianna Abdala
Sent: Monday, February 06, 2006 4:01 PM
To: William A. Korman
Subject: Re: Thank you

A real lawyer would have put the contract into writing and not exercised any such reliance until he did so.

Again, thank you.

—– Original Message —–
From: William A. Korman
To: ‘Dianna Abdala’
Sent: Monday, February 06, 2006 4:18 PM
Subject: RE: Thank you

Thank you for the refresher course on contracts. This is not a bar exam question. You need to realize that this is a very small legal community, especially the criminal defense bar. Do you really want to start pissing off more experienced lawyers at this early stage of your career?

—–Original Message—–
From: Dianna Abdala
Sent: Monday, February 06, 2006 4:29 PM
To: William A. Korman
Subject: Re: Thank you

bla bla bla
------------------

Okay, so perhaps it is a little sass-mouth, but I do not feel it was cyberspace worthy. I mean, c'mon, are people really that fargan bored?!?! The MP3 of R-Kel pissing on somebody earned its proverbial e-passport hands down, but this crap didn't. Judging by girly's last name (and the fact that she got that super ghettois double "n" than going on in the first), Miss Dianna Abdala is obviously not white. Mr. Korman, however, is. Could this be the reason this exchange made it 'round the globe? If not, perhaps the races of said perpetrators can explain some of the hella ignant comments left on aol.com's message boards...

She's an idiot and she is lucky America let her become a lawyer.That's right. I said it. She should be kissing the ground my forefathers have made for her spoiled self to even become a lawyer. Obviously, she's immature and I hope she no one ever hires her as their attorney.

Um, yeah, right anonymous comment-leaving b!tch. Last time I checked, we live in America where people can attend classes and become whatever the farg they want to be. Nobody told you Walmart was the only option!

OKAY. Now, I have to leave this mess alone, as I'm beginning to actually care that people care about this crap. However, this IS a blog site dedicated to the workplace, soooo, what the f%ck...

Whadaya think? Dianna Abdula: GROW UP!, GANGSTA! or GO HEAD, GIRL!

I say: GROW UP!

CG./R.

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Tuesday's Tip...

Hey Ya'll...I'm back!!!! Sorry, but your favorite black chick on the job has been, um, off her job with Blogger because some ish just never stops!
By 'ish,' I mean the minutiae of life that keeps coming, and coming, and coming, and coming some more.

Overall, this little Cocoa's Monday was SUPER!!!!!!!!. Well, okay, not really, but ya can't tell me that it didn't make for a nice thought...

Anyhoo...it's now Tuesday and guess what???

TUESDAY'S TIP IS BACK!!! Woo-hoo!!! Excellent!!! Right On!!! Hot damn!!!

So, you got the hint.

TIP: Paychecks and Poonanny Do not Mix!
While threats of layoffs, terminations and some of fierce competition for promotions and other office perks remains at an all-time high, giving up the bootay should nevah be considered acceptable means to securing a (better?) position on the job.

As I've said before, people in my industry are quick to whore themselves for a dollar, but we can't help it! There's money all around us. So, I honestly think it's tough for everybody to stay "good," especially considering the only thing greater than the number of horny geriatric whitefellows and Viagra prescrips at my job is the number of Black folks' resumes passed up by H.R. every year (I know...whole 'nother post!). Yet, the eagerness of my managers to go Kizzy, coupled with the apparent stacking of the cards against my race, doesn't give this Cocoa the greenlight to start poplocking the coochie for my very own corner office, P-Touch, and spankin' new set of retractable Sharpies.

Besides, that kind of stuff only works for people in the entertainment industry and in the movies. Sheee-it, I know...I'm laughing right now, too...

But, for real, Grandmama Cocoa is tellin' ya: keep dem legs crossed. Case in point: I have a 30-year-old girlfriend who once faced the threat of a layoff UNTIL she started messin' round with some manager from her job worth a lil' bit of change (read $256 million).

Now, granted, she probably now makes it through the work week with very few - if any -wrinkles in her day. Yet, I wonder if losing a few proverbial wrinkles in her schedule was worth all the physical ones girly now has to, ahem, stare down (up close???) because said manager is pushing 62 years old!!!

And like my grandmama always said: Ain't nothing in life for free...ya betta watch it!

CG./R.

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Buzzwords: the Breakfast of workplace champions

Now, onto the $500 task! Define the word "paradigm" in complete, coherent English without first looking it up in the dictionary.

Truth of the matter is, I couldn't complete the damn thing myself.

Who deemed it necessary to create an entirely new language specifically coded for the work world? If my black girl conspiracy theorist were ever allowed to open her mouth, she'd bet cold hard cash that it was another move the by almighty man with a plan to keep back and stomp down the black man (and woman) from the motherland with a natural tan called melanin (pronounced 'nan')...

I know, I'm laughing right now, too, but the sh!t sounded good nonetheless.

Below is a list of the office buzzwords that I hate most with REAL definitions. Got any to share? If so, please do ('specially ya'll Cali folks...ya'll's non-office lingo is crazy enough as it is...)

1. "Sexy" - Adjective used to describe fluff and is generally used to hide an incredibly sorry, wacka$$ and lackluster idea.

2. "Bottom Line" - YOUR paycheck, which is directly influenced by the company's paycheck, so...

3. "Make It Happen" - A threat; nothing more, nothing less.

4. "Out of the Box" - A great-sounding, yet totally unusable, idea that helps all parties involved feel very highly creative and worthy of their titles, but will lead everyone back to the same damn fall-back methods...

5. "Tried and True" - Same damn, fall-back methods.

6. "Low-Hanging Fruit" - Loser-friendly accomplishments of those who rely on the same damn fall back methods.

7. "Download" - Codeword for "don't waste my damn time" meeting-of-sorts

8. "Spearhead" - Cuz "lead" is SO 1999!

9. "Peel the Onion" - Anyone?

10. "Open-Door Policy" - If it needs to be stated, then, Houston, we have a problem.

CG.

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It's Sunday; can I get an amen?

Now, ya'll know that I usually don't do the weekends (cuz girly doesn't work on the weekends), but, today, mi hijas, marks an exception. In other words, I've been inspired...

Can I ask why most acts of ghettoness in the black church generally have something to do with candy and cell phones? Now, I know a few of ya'll might disagree, arguing that stuff like hairdos and clothing choices should top the list, but I'm not trying to win any first-class flights to hell by dissing people who potentially just don't have very many resources. So, I'll stay off the church folks, per se, and on their behavior.

I recently left my old church with its highfalutin membership and now regularly attend another one, where the only semblance between the two is the fact that most of the folk inside are brown and Baptist. I like the new spot a lot, but the parishioners can be a bit of a trip at times. Just this afternoon one woman embarrassingly struggled to locate her cell phone and turn off the ringer cuz the likes of Omarion put her a$$ on blast throughout the church. Besides, how are you pushing 45 years old and got a bump-n-grind music ring tone? And, then, you don't even have enough sense to put that joint on vibrate before making your way up in the church. AND, then, as if her ringer episode wasn't annoying enough, her co-parishioner (who had to be pushing 65, no doubt) kept popping peppermint candies like they were Lorotabs and rattling the empty wrappers as if she were one minute from OD'ing.

Another woman had the nerve to answer her ringing phone just right when the pastor had begun to read the Day's passage. Then, she had even mo' nerve to dip her head way toward her daughter's bible, so to appear as if she were reading the scripture to her, when, in fact, she was conversing on the cellie.

By this point, I was furious and fading fast. Not to mention that I had already performed the annoyed swing around and stare at this ignant group of teens three rows back. I even had the nerve to snap, "I know you all DON'T plan on talking throughout the WHOLE service." Yet, the churchtime ghettoness session was not yet done, as the two sets of the worst offenders - the mother on her cellie and bad-a$$ teens - were actually ONE group. I realized this b/c the daughter of said woman whirled around and summoned the other tweens to pass her puffy coat FROM FOUR ROWS BACK! So, one by one, clueless parishioner by clueless parishioner, we all passed this little girl's coat forward. What was the urgency? Well, once girly got her coat, she paused while reaching in the pocket b/c it looked like she was about to take a smack down from her mom for disturbing the grown folk. That is, until, girly reached in her pocket and with a smile, head tilt and shoulders shrug, held up the blue pack of Starbursts. What followed next was totally unbelievable. Just like a Mentos commercial, her mother tilted her head, shoulder shrugged and giggled, too. I nearly punched a hole in my friend's arm trying to bring her attention to the madness unfolding two rows ahead.

Oh well, let me go now before some lightening comes through this roof... Happy last day of the weekend ya’ll!

R.

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C-A-S-U-A-L F-R-I-D-A-YS: Trick, get a job! (EOE Edition)

I propose a new national honor that distinguishes and raises up the most-widely (over?)talked public figures, just so we can tell them PUBLICLY to sit the f#ck down! Being the hardworking, black woman professional that I am, I'd call it the "Trick, get a job!" honors. Now that I have a name for my award who would I ever pick??? Let's start with these homely arses below.

BTW, don't start writing me about the fact that we're helping white folk find a job today. For those of you not "up" on the acronyms, "EOE" stands for "equal opportunity employer." So let's just simmer down and be fair to our vanilla brothers and sisters in need...


J-GO (AND PLEASE STAY THE FARG AWAY!)
Tired as the day is long, I'd like to give Jennifer Aniston's washed up a$$ something special to hold on to... Namely a man, as broad obviously has problems doing so for herself. Cocoa Girl's personal take: Brad left her because her other "friends" left her, a.k.a. J-Go was speeding too fast down "has-been" lane.

To this scraggly ho, I say: Trick, get a job! (and leave those wacka$$ romantic comedies and washed up white male actors w/ beer guts to the likes of J-Lo).



ANGELINA "HO"LIE
Habla Espanol? If so, then you prolly understand that the first syllable of this girly's last name - when pronounced in Spanish - is quite fitting for one of our nation's most-covered homewreckers to date.

Yes, I just finished dissing J-Go, but A-Jo (pronounced "ho" for ya'll non-bilingual Cocoas) needs to get employed quick. Hell, she ain't nothing more than a glorified Baby Mama! Besides, if she screw somebody else's man while they're away at work, she might end up with a knife in da back. So, I say, let's help this ho (stay safe!) by getting da trick a job! (and let it not be freaking down other women's men)!


UNCLE JAMES (FREY)
Now, ya'll, listen to yo Antie Cocoa. I wan' you to go back in my room and reach up in dat top drawah. Den...get me dat number to dat place where we sant yo uncle Ray-Ray and cousin Tyrone the last time they was on dat sh!t. Uh, huh, cuz after tellin' all those lies and f#cking around wit' Miss Opie, yo Uncle James fenna be back on dat stuff reaaaal quick.

Antie Cocoa say: Get that n!gga a job! (cuz he ain't gon' be f#cking up my tab down at the Piggly Wiggly, no mo')!


CG

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Keepin' it real vs. keepin' it at home?

Quiet as kept, I’m really a little bourgeoisie and just don't let down my ghe(tto)-dar too often, ESPECIALLY when at work. Now, before you go getting all po'd at me, let me assure you that it's NOT that I believe everyone at work should resemble the person in the cubicle next door. Rather, it's more so that I KNOW the office powers-that-be expects everyone on the job to, well, to resemble the person in the cubicle next door. Unfortunately, it’s a game that we all must play when working in Corporate America, and while workers DO have a right to be pissed about it, let’s first ask ourselves: If a sistah never spots any of cubicle cohorts rocking talon-length manicures with panoramic scenes of South Beach - IN a white bread office - then why on earth would she go into work wearing that H.A.Mmy mess??? And, trust me, many of them rock the nail decals, too. They’re just savvy enough to cop a bottle of that good stuff before reaching the office on Monday morning!

But, hey, who I am to be judgmental? Fresh out of college and at job #1, I was broke but managed to maintain a penchant for eating out every meal of the day (I know: whole 'nother blog!). So, I, along with the two other resident black chicks always dined in at this cheap-a$$ fried-fish joint around the corner from work. BUT I nevah – I repeat, NEVAH! - brought that stuff back to the office. Why not? I was fully aware that neither my JAP, fabu Brit gay-guy, old-monied, or new-money bosses would have found that move too cute! They were snobs, but I knew this from day one, so I always proceeded accordingly. I also had enough sense to know that fried imitation crabmeat had no place alongside eel rolls, Edamame OR my promotion! Some things have always been just a matter of common sense to me, which pretty much explains why I was shocked by the (Afro-American?) antics of the only straight, black male to ever work for our supa-white P.R. firm. Brother obviously wasn’t up on G'Al Reynolds' tips for being "ethnic" on the weekends…


1. TIMBS. Yes, as in the boots. If you work at a Manhattan public relations firm, where 85 percent of the office is female and 90 percent is white, you should not/cannot/must not wear Timberlands to the office on casual Fridays. This rule should be even more apparent when said white women at work find it okay to comment, “Oh, [Cocoa Boy] you dress SO cool. We were just talking about how you look like you just stepped off the cover of Vibe magazine.”


2. POPEYE’S. Every day, I shrank in disbelief as, every day, I watched homey lug that blue, red and yellow logo’ed plastic bag into the office. A sistah knew (all too well, ya’ll!) what lay ahead. Dude would even rip off a piece of box and empty onto it ‘bout 55 ketchup packets to create a mountain of “sauce” for his spicy legs and biscuit. Folk, if you have never seen or smelled shortening, Louisiana Hot or anything fried in your office – especially if the two 85 and 90 percent reasons above apply - leave yo’ sh!t of similar persuasion at home, or in the “restaurant!"


3. BAGGY JEANS. At one point during his brief tenure with the firm, a sister got so fed that I even contemplated criminal intervention on behalf of The Race. Why on earth did this Cocoa Boy think he could roll up in the office channeling the likes of Chingy and T.I. when all the other males were khaki'ed out like Bob Saget?





QUESTION: How have you - or another employee - ever let the 'black out' while on the job?

R.

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Paranoia, The 4th 'P' of Success...

...or at least to keeping a job!

I know there are those Cocoa cubicle-nazis out there who just gawked at my new version of the P's like it's hella ridiculous, kind of like an atomically gay man masquerading as an oh-so mediocre former chubby chick's husband. But, I contend that my stuff is not THAT ridiculous! No, I am just a little on edge about this whole mysterious-blogger-but-not-really thing that I’ve been doing from somewhere other than my home; somewhere I go to every day (at least Monday-Friday). It’s vast, boring, full of Caucasians and contains lots and lots and lots of computers, pale dirty-looking-but-clean-looking carpet and … Okay, okay, so you got the “hint,” but I already informed you that I am seriously paranoid!

Recent dreams, new and old conversations and evil eyes from some folk in charge, whom out of fear for my P-Touch's safety, shall remain nameless, have collectively led to this little blogger’s anxious state of mind. Hell, they already took down Mwabi, da Supa Sis and word has it that they moved in on girly like The Eraser. She was blogging from work one day and - BAM! – the next morning all she had left was a ransom note with an insane demand. Okay, it didn’t really happen like this, but the ish sound fabulous nonetheless;-)

So, why in the flip do I keep going on and on about this madness? Well, just so you now know that I am officially under cover (literally – it’s damn cold outside) and bloggin’ from home here on out. Cool?

Cool.

So, back to my dream… Lately, I’ve been dreaming a lot and eating way too much (of the wrong kind of food, mind you). I've dreamt two quasi-scary dreams two nights in a row this week, which is quasi odd because I have never been the dreaming type. These visions were even more strange because they shadowed real feelings, fears and thoughts that I experience on a daily basis. For instance, Sunday’s dream focused on my obsessive bloggin’ from “that place” outside of my home and climaxed (hehehe…I always giggle when I read that word…) with a certain individual demanding that I never post from “that place” again, or else my paycheck would be pushing up daisies. The next night I dreamt that I received a call from some weirdo at my lit agent’s company, stating that my rep had bounced and he was my new representative! Now, the other dream threatened my dollars and didn’t even make me bat an eyelash, but this one seemed three times more horrific than Whitney in the morning! All I can remember thinking was “how in the hell is this dude going to pick up my project mid process and make a sell?!” Yet, I am still employed and still have my agent. So, all is good again in this little writer’s world.

Yet, even in good times and happy endings, craziness still runneth over. Today at work was one of the craziest days that I have experienced in quite some time. Why? For one, I actually had to do work and, for two, I actually didn’t get a chance to do much else outside of work. Damn, these employers can be soo frickin’ selfish at times! So, now, I am like, totally, backlogged in terms of my personal daily to-dos, e.g. ordering a new clock for the bathroom at home and researching a vacation package for some fun in the sun away from home.

Well, since I have never (*cough*) been the type to do things like blog from work, then I should have lots of time to handle personal stuff during normal business hours, right? Yeah. See ya tomorrow (night?).

R.

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Tuesday's Tip

TUESDAY'S TIP: A THANK YOU TO REMEMBER
According to a survey by Vault.com, only 35 percent of workers regularly send thank you notes following an interview. The reasons anyone in their right mind would continue to partake in such nonsense continues to escape me, especially since we live in a Bush nation where spotting a decent job opp is 10 times less likely than coming across yet another celebrity Crackie on the telly. Yet, the trick is not just to send the suck-up note - you must do it right!

If only one-third of interview angels are making good on Mom-duke's sermons, then you too should yearn to be among this number. Think about it: just doing so further sets you apart from the remaining two thirds of the competition. Next, take this a step even further by skipping the typical "thank you" cards and instead opting for an artfully designed card with a blank inside. Scribe your words of appreciation on the inside flap and (of course!) include your business card. So, how is this idea better than the standard joint above???

Hiring managers receive TONS (I repeat: TONS) of standard thank you letters and cards each week, and I'd bet a pretty penny that they all look the same and, thereby, face the same fate (can anyone say, 'receptacle?'). But what vain, power tripping ruler of the world (aka H.R. rep) would toss a beautiful reprint of the Mona Lisa (though I personally think girly's none too cute) or a breathtaking landscape of snow or flowers (in season, of course!). Thing is, most people wouldn't toss it. Matter of fact, I'd bet they'd want it to decorate their desks versus the bottom of their waste baskets. Hey, human beings are vain creatures who just don't pass up an opportunity to make ourselves - or extensions of ourselves (in this case being the office) look more attractive.
So there you have it...with just a bit of effort (and a couple of dollars) you can leave a great impression of yourself for hiring managers to view every day. I find this method especially effective when cold writing/following up on job opps that don't yet exist!

A bit of warning: I am sure mother must have told you that common sense is always very necessary, the same bit applies here. Stay on the safe side of the P.C. fence and avoid cards with ethnic, religious and political connotations. Go for beauty and awe-inspiring prints instead. See examples below:

Good luck and God speed.

CG

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C-A-S-U-A-L-F-R-I-D-A-Y-S: Celebrity Coworkers

Dave as Calvin, the newest WacArnold's employee...

I cannot imagine wanting to belong to another race - at least not on the "good" days. You know, when the black folk aren't in the movie theatre shouting out the all punch lines; acting all crazy on the subway circa rush hour, or looting Airforce Ones and Pelle Pelle for the whole world to see while a natural disaster has their city in ruins. Yet, in all my black pride, black love and black folk unite-ness, I cannot imagine wanting to work in a totally black environment either...even if my coworkers were celebrities!

We all love to love those lovely stars, especially our Cocoa-coated ones. Yet, I can quite easily say that I don’t want half of those Prozac stock owners working beside me in anybody's office...let alone in a classroom, precinct, hospital, New York City bus route, etc. With that said, check out some of these celebrity/cubicle pairings and think real hard about...

If [X] Was an Ordinary N!g 'wit a Job!

1. HALLE. Her mother was a nurse, but something tells me that we couldn't trust her a$$ around nobody's drugs...and it ain't her convincing junkie portrayal in Jungle Fever either.

2. TERRENCE. Pimping may not be easy and it sure as hell ain't legal either. Don't know what he could do. What type of regular jobs exists for Duke Ellington wannabes with obvious Murray's and Doo-Rag affections?

3. FLAVA FLAV. I know...I was just f$cking with ya'll!

4. QUEEN LATIFAH. I actually could picture girly being one of the most-popular folks in the office. You'd love her; I'd love her; we’d all love her! Wait a minute...WTF am I saying??? That means she'd be the one loved Negra in the office! Working alongside her would be a fargan nightmare... My colleagues would hate me in comparison and raise her up as the lone proof that Corporate America is not racist; Affirmative Action has done its job (and can now go somewhere and screw itself) and that “they” really do love black people. Gulp.

5. BOBBY BROWN. Visions of an unarmed security guard keep coming to mind, toothpick dangling from the corner of the mouth in all. I see BB sequestering cars full of scared whites and fearful immigrants outside downtown parking ramps. Yeah, a parking ramp attendant with the little b/w TV propped on a folding chair, directly facing his folding chair, with a bucket of Rally's in plain sight. Yeah.

6. CIARA. Hmm? Everyday jobs just don't exist for folk with no talent. Oh, wait a min, that's why she's a celebrity!

7. PARIS HILTON. Office slut.

8. NICOLE RICHIE. Office druggie...and slut...by fault of a blurry memory by fault of a wild side by fault of some serious drug addiction.

Did I miss anyone?
R.

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Am I getting lazy...

...and forgetting what it feels like to work? Although I've now been with my current employer for more than one year (still never received my bottle of Strawberry Hill), I confidently can surmise that I've only spent about 50 percent of said time working. By working, I mean actually performing a task listed within the 100 bullet points of items better known as my job description. Not that I am lazy or a rogue employee with my own agenda, it is just that my job doesn't require a ton of responsibility - all the time - nor doe it require the Chicken Little-ing of so many other overrated titles.

Nope, I guess that I'm just a bit like a rogue employee with my own agenda... You see, I would never ever truly complain about my lack of daily to-do's, as I happily accepted this gig b/c of its standard hours (with O.T. only if requested). It’s easy assignments cleared the way - and my mind - for me to pursue new career avenues, which over the past year happens to have been starting/finishing my manuscript; completing the nearly suicide-inducing book proposal (for real!); getting an agent, and selling my first book. So far, I'm 3 (well, more like 2.75) for 4. Not bad. My manuscript isn't totally done (the source of the one-quarter point deduction), yet my agent is fi-ERCE (somewhere, G'Al Reynolds just snapped two fingers in a circle) and she is working some major voo-doo on my behalf – partially finished manuscript, new writer status in all! She told that an editor at one of the major houses once commented that she is "like the Suge Knight of the publishing industry."

I sleep quite well at night, thank you very much.

I guess I’m just whining because I feel left out and cannot really remember what it feels like to run around with a marathon-length To-Do list, feeling rather important for no damn reason at all. Many might think I am crazy for somewhat missing that b!tch-on-wheels worklife, but cracking a whip was always so much fun to me. Now, I only get to do so in a "No! You do not need - and will not get - another Blackberry..." mama-of-a-million-dollar-baby (a.k.a. stock trader) sort of way. So, until my book is sold and/or I figure out career #2, then this is pretty much it.



R.

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C-A-S-U-A-L F-R-I-D-A-Y-S: Al deserves an Oscar; Narnia hits the streets

Again, while the angle of my blog IS working while black, female and professional, I do allow myself to journal (read rant) about anything under the sun on Friday's. Honestly, I do not want to snap, a la Postal, thereby, crediting Corporate America with the advent of our nation's first black woman serial killer. So, for me, venting is very necessary...

Forget Terrence, Give that Brotha an Oscar...
Star Jones' husband, Al, is not only a blind or gay (c'mon, he has to be one or the other), but he's also apparently a really, really, really, really great actor. When asked by PEOPLE magazine to share his feelings about his wife's *cough* lovely new figure, the forever shining other half (ok, really like 1/4) of the D-level celebucouple S.T.A.L.E. (Star & Al, with an accented "e" for obligatory gay effect) commented,

"I think maybe a two-piece is coming out this summer!"

Truly an earth-shattering performance. I mean, really, how many men - straight, gay or perspiring from the kiss of a barrel against the temple - could feed a trained reporter such a boldface lie-of-enthusiasm without any hint of uncontrollable laughter, nausea or Prozac addiction? Niiiice!

The 'Chronic' of Narnia
Okay, so it may really not be the "chronic" that sudden