So it’s over.
The controversial, drama-filled 2010-2011 basketball season has come to an end. An end many believe to the be the “right” kind, where the underdog good guy crushed the villainous Goliath. I, a Miami Heat fan from the years before they became the NBA’s Three Headed Monster, am left with one question: Now what?
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The year was 2006. Life was good. I had just completed my college career, having graduated Summa Cum Laude and I was on the road to starting the next phase of my life. I’d secured employment at my Alma Mater and was gearing up to live like a big girl in a new city. My favorite basketball team, the Miami Heat was having a great playoff run (that would end in a championship win) and I had just started dating a lanky, too smooth for words not yet legal gentleman who was convinced after a few weeks of knowing me that I could be “The One,” who I wasn’t feeling like that, but I thought was pretty cool and fun (known to you all as the infamous CJ). I had finally conquered my fear of driving and acquired a driver’s license. (So what if I didn’t start driving until I was 22?) The only thing left to do was to secure my first vehicle.
I went to Enterprise in search of a Nissan Sentra, but ended up test driving a white 2004 Mitsubishi Lancer. I’d never heard of the Lancer, but I liked the look of it. Small enough for me to manage, but didn’t look like the cars that every girl I knew at the time were driving (Ford Focus, Chevy Cavaliers). It drove well, didn’t intimidate me at all. The only issue was that it was white. Winters in the midwest were hell on white cars. When the dealer explained that there was a dark grey Lancer at their Bedford location, I signed the dotted line. Two days and a mere $250 down payment later, I was introduced to my first baby. Most people gave their cars girl names, but being different, I wanted my car to be masculine. And so I gave him the nickname of my latest celebrity infatuation. Flash.
Now here we are, nearly three years and over 60,000 miles later. Flash has been a soldier. Taking me through my commuter lifestyle (first back and forth from Dayton to Cleveland and then from Akron to Cleveland), and surviving a few nicks, dents and minor repairs. Never costing me too much money and for the most part always reliable. Until now.
Since Flash hit the 100k mile mark, he seems to have decided that he hates me. In the last month and a half, I have had to replace two valve stems, outer tie rods, and get a wheel alignment, setting me back about $450. And now, this little effer needs brake work.
Looking back at that picture, taken the day I drove off the lot with my baby, I can’t help but sing the words to that Aaliyah song How could the one who made me happy make me feel so sad?…How could the love that brought such pleasure, bring such misery? Got me wanting to stand in the street in the pouring rain and just cry.
Oh Flash, why must you treat me so badly?
I remember showing CJ my new car and the teasing scowl he made upon hearing that I named it after Dwyane Wade. He always clowned me for my fandom (though the 1st thing he ever bought me was a Miami Heat basketball). He brought it to my attention yesterday that maybe naming my car after an injury prone athlete might not have been so smart.
Is it too late to rename him Cal Ripken Jr.? He was always dependable.
He's got my vote!!
Most of my original followers know that I’m a serious sports head, especially when it comes to the NBA. And while I’ve been rather impressed by the efforts of the hometeam (shout out to Lebron and the Gang for keeping the city on fire) I am a through and through Dwyane Wade fan.
Last NBA season pretty much sucked for me. Wade spent most of the season injured and the Heat won 15 games. It was downright depressing. By the middle of last season, I complete gave up hope and set my sights on what the 2008-2009 season would bring. Amidst all the ish talking I heard from everyone, I kept a straight face and said, “Wait ’till Wade gets healthy.” And I heard, “He’ll never be the same.”
Is there anyone out there choking on their words? I know a few of my friends may be in need of the Heimlech. In case you haven’t heard, Dwyane Tyrone Wade Jr. is back in full form and BAAAALLLLLLIN!!! Dude has been in a zone all season, but since the All-Star Break he’s been phenomenal. And the sports media has hopped right back on his johnson as if they didn’t put him in an early grave last year. SMH. The MVP race is looking verrrrry interesting right now. (It’s obvious who I’ll be voting for!) While I’m quite sure that the MVP will go to Lebron James, the mere fact that Dwyane Wade is being mentioned as a strong contender against LBJ and Kobe Bryant simply proves what I’ve been saying since 2005: Dwyane Wade is one of the best in the game right now. Period.
And please spare me any of the details about the man’s personal life, because this post is about his job performance. Let’s be real here. If our work performances were judged in anyway by our extra-curricular activities how many of us would be at the unemployment office? What goes on in his personal life is the concern of those directly affected by his actions. Unless you’re his ex, one of the kids or one of the rumored mistresses, you shouldn’t have anything to say about what D. Wade does with his jibby.
Fall down seven times, stand up eight. When you’re built tough, taking a fall is nothin! Trust me, I know 
So, to my fellow sports fans: What’s your take on this year’s MVP race?
For people who followed the old blog, “Robin’s Randoms” will follow the same format as “Skinny Bits.” Just my random thoughts.
NEW ISSUE OF POLISHED CLEVELAND MAGAZINE!! CHECK IT OUT AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!!
I really couldn’t care less about the 50/Rick Ross beef. Two rappers with low level talent going at each other is hardly entertaining. Regardless of which one has more money.
I will NOT blog about CB/Rihanna. It’s a highly complicated situation as is. I refuse to add to the complexity of it with my commentary. I am glad that CB finally released a statement though.
I was unsure about Pres Obama’s stimulus plan until he held his press conference when he stopped using all that D.C. jargon and explained how it would help people like me. I’m a smart girl but I don’t speak Washingtonian.
People need to give the new administration a break. There is no previous experience that prepares you for the Presidency so until you’re in that seat, you can’t comprehend the experience. Of course there will be stumbles right out of the gate. Chill out and stop Monday morning quarterbacking.
Some people don’t like the party scene in Cleveland because it’s so small. But I like the familiarty of the crowd I party with. Reminds me of college.
I also like that I’m not dating anyone in my social circle. Since my socializing is strategic to the magazine, I like that my personal life and business dealings are separate.
Why am I at work on President’s Day?
Drake > Lil Wayne. Perhaps because he’s coherent when he raps. Can’t always say that about Wayne.
Currently listening to Drake’s “So Far Gone” mixtape and understand the hype. It’s hot!!
I am morally opposed to the “Stanky Leg” song but the NBA All Stars made it look good this weekend.
Shaq and The Jabbawockeez? Timeless.
Didn’t know Shaq and Shaunie had worked it out. I root for people who stick it out with their marriages. After all, isn’t that the point?
Very disturbed by rumors of D. Wade giving his wife the itchies. I still love him, but I’m removing the “If I ever met D. Wade” fantasy from my To Do list. Will have to settle for admiring from a safe distance. Now if I meet him, all I want is a pic and an autograph. He’s fine as hell, but not worth the risk! LOL
I need a laptop. Badly.
CJ lost his phone over the weekend and the people who found it are holding it hostage for $100. For real? If I was a rowdy street chick I would find these cats and whoop ass.
Just a girl with a writing habit, using a blog to share my stories and passions. These are the tales, interests, and observations of the quiet nerd in the corner of the bookstore; the professional woman strutting down the street in slacks clutching her Blackberry; the dork in bed by 9pm on a Saturday night; and the B-girl in the middle of the dance floor getting down in her sensible shoes. Welcome to the world of The Skinny Black Girl.
