Invent


leave your face alone.

While I’m not completely against a little bit of Botox here and there, a lot of women need to leave their face alone. I’m 32 years old and I have yet to inject anything into my face. Why? Because I simply don’t need it. All I use is some good ole water and a few skin care products. But you have 18 year olds getting Botox. You have women that are a size 2, getting 38DD breast implants. You have Black women with natural high cheek bones, getting cheek implants (ie: Janet Jackson, Jada Pinkett-Smith, Trey Songz, Vivica Fox, Lil Kim). You’re making your face look worse! There are some people who’ve received tasteful plastic surgery (Rob Lowe, Halle Berry, Kelly Rowland), however, people like Megan Fox really didn’t need it. And when you don’t need it, you end up looking worse than you did before. You may still be beautiful, but you look fake and stiff as hell.

What is it that make these woman keep going and going and going? Is it addictive? Is it the peer pressure in Hollywood? I just don’t understand why someone who’s already naturally beautiful, would go and take such a high risk at changing or destroying that look. It has to be some sort of deep embedded insecurity. It’s that same insecurity that will have them deny ever getting work done to their face or body.

Take Kim Kardashian for example. I used to love love love how she looked before. But now, she looks like a mannequin. She swears that she has never received any plastic surgery, never got work done on her face, and only tried Botox once. I beg to differ Kim.

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asia kidd.

People have asked why I don’t post pictures of my daughter on my site anymore. Well, she’s 12 now and I am very frightful of predators and hateful people that will steal her pictures and do whatever with them. She’s at an impressionable age of 12. Not to say that she’s easily influenced, because she’s certainly not, but it’s those that attack children on the internet. I’ve seen it way too many times where an individual will talk smack about your child, just because they don’t like you.  It’s cowardice. 99.9999% of the time, the individual would never say those things to your face. I get hate email from time to time, and when I do, they always find the time to mention something vile about my daughter. It doesn’t bother me because a) they don’t know her and b) it’s a clear sign of the power I have over them. Nevertheless, it’s sad as hell. That’s why I refrain from doing it at all. Same with my boyfriend. He’s not into the online social community as much as I am. He only has one picture of himself on Facebook. So out of respect for him, I don’t post random pictures of him online either. There’s a fine line between privacy and exposure.

On to a lighter note, my daughter is going to be an artist! Her artistic alias is “Asia Kidd”. Isn’t that cute?! I’ve gotten her the basics (coloring pencils, sketch pads and a clipboard) so any other suggestions are welcomed. She learned via YouTube videos and is able to draw without any tutorials. Here’s my favorite out of the bunch:

asia kidd.

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that’s me.

“phenomenal woman”

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing of my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them,
They say they still can’t see.
I say
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
The palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

by Maya Angelou

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imperfections.

I promise I haven’t abandoned this blog. When time allows, I’ll post something soon. My birthday coming up soon (Feb 10th) and I need to figure out what ignorant shit I can get into this year. In the meantime, here’s an old poem I wrote a couple years ago.

imperfections.

9:42am…
her bags under her eyes, squints, as she opens them.
he’s already looking at her, analyzing.
he notices the hint of brown sugar in her pupils…
the glow in her skin, which ricochets off of her natural oils.
he wipes her left brow with his fingertips, admiring the unknown scar…
she yawns.
he reaches over and lays his head on her stomach.
he finds comfort within her warm pouch.
listening to her soul during the rise and fall of her breathing.
he sighs.
she exhales.
as he looks up, he begins to caress her body
noticing the fade in the tattoo on her chest
touches it gently, reading the name.
he kisses it, followed by a glance, making eye contact.
she smiles.
parting her lips to explain the tattoo, he presses his finger against it.
mmm. she can taste his desire.
he pulls her on top of him…
positioning her body to where they are at eye level
her lips meet his. he devours her, as he tastes her morning essence.
his hands lingers towards past her back & she slightly shivers….
he pulls he face back, gently licking her upper lip.
she digresses.
as they rise, he steps a few feet away from her
she hurries to follow behind his shadow.
he turns around, alarmed at her sudden movements
she looks at him, with fear in her eyes, like an innocent child…
and then realizes.
he then grabs her hands, that were previously covering her body…
and bring them down.
he speaks…
“I capitalize your imperfections because they make you perfectly unique.”
and with that, he walks away. leaving her standing there…
flawed.
alone.
naked.
confident.
she loves….

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untitled woman.

There was this woman who felt like her world was falling apart. Buzz buzz buzz buzz buzz. She smacks her alarm clock. After a well-rested 10 hour sleep, she awakes, still feeling as if she’s exhausted. As she stretches she yearns to go right back to sleep for another 10 hours. She brushes her healthy teeth, grooms her long flowing hair & powders her nose. As she looks in the mirror she doesn’t see a beautiful woman. She sees an unattractive being. When she curves her body to slip into her most unique outfit, she feels as if people just see her as an ordinary dresser. As she struts into work and sits in her office, she wonders why she settled for $50,000 annually when she’s actually worth no less then 6 figures. Vampires. These are the people that take her talent for granted and tries to take advantage of her kindness. Always looking for a free ride or a “deal”. She chuckles at the audacity of these people who don’t respect her mentality & expect more than what they’re offering. Is it because of her race? Her gender? Her age? She sighs, and compromises anyways. Her executive team consist of 10 people, all of which are 10 – 15 years younger than her. And she’s their boss. The lack of respect is rising. Everyone calls her for help but when the tables are turned she doesn’t have a shoulder to lean on. Peers. They either love her or hate her. Few may ridicule her. Some may underestimate her knowledge. Most downplay her existence. Overall, they love to degrade her natural being and assume she’s everything but what she represents. When she survives through life’s toughest challenges, she still feels beaten. She feels like she failed. She neglected the things that are here, as she focused on what’s not. She eventually realizes certain actions & decisions in her life was stupid, but only when it’s too late to make a difference. Men. They come and go like flies in and out of her life. She didn’t believe she was good enough for a good man because the “good men” weren’t interested in her. The few that have took interest, ran away. Not enough struggle to get inside her mind & not just her body. Men are fascinated with her beauty. Unfortunately, many have given up on seeing what’s within. They feel as if she’s playing games. So, like clockwork, as the 3rd man walks out her door….she cries. And as she cries, she tries to remember that no one on earth is worth her tears. The one who is will never make her cry. It’s ironic, with all the wisdom, strength and intelligence she possesses, she still feels unavailing. At the end of the day as she lays in her bed, she feels alone. Her phone is ringing. Her answering machine is blinking. 17 messages. But no one of importance. A few girlfriends that enjoys talking shit about her behind her back and random men wanting to get inside of her physically before mentally. She sighs & closes her eyes…..

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz….. She smacks her alarm clock. Brand new day

Is this an overly emotional woman, a faded character of a storybook or is that somewhat a brief description of what most of us feel? Even if you’re a man and reading this, you’re still capable of feeling this way. Just reverse the roles. Point is, there was only one thing correct about her. The fact that she failed. What she failed to realize is that her body is 96% water. Like the ocean, she’s a mystery that curves with each breeze. Depending on it’s environment, it’ll either be cold, warm or hot. And just like an ocean, only a few will have the map to the treasure buried at the bottom. The deeper you’re willing to go within yourself, the more valuable your treasure will be. Never allow anyone or anything to limit your mind, creativity & charisma because of your race, color, gender or expression of beauty. There is only one power & one presence operating our lives and that’s the mind. It draws business prospects, friends and significant others. Nothing else is suppose to lure that sort of attraction. Our minds gives us all that we deserve based on our way of thinking, way of presenting ourself and way of exceeding the limits. No sweat. No fear. Don’t hold your breath because he left. Who you choose to be with reflects what you really feel about yourself. Loving, wanting or being with someone has nothing to do with their exterior decoration. Nor does it have to do with being “perfect”. No one’s perfect. And neither is a relationship. In order to find that perfect somebody, we must believe that whatever perfect is, we’ve already achieved it. No one can give us what we don’t already have. If your boss can’t recognize that you’re worth more then $15 an hour, demand a raise. Don’t settle for less. If your peers believe you’re a fake or a phony because you choose not to explain yourself to them about the things their envious about, keep it moving. Don’t answer to anyone but God. If he decides to get angry and leave because you weren’t ready to spread your legs for him, oh fucking well. Don’t give anyone a piece of your soul unless they earned it. Each of us brings to the world unique talents, gifts and abilities. Even if you don’t know what it is, or value what you do, someone, somewhere, will benefit from your presence. There’s no one like you. We are each as unique and valuable as the other. You have something valuable to invest towards your career, your peers and your significant other. Recognize that, go to sleep and wake up beginning a brand new life saying this next statement : I give nothing or anyone any power over me but the love I have for myself.

originally written : January 6, 2008

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The content of kisschanel.com, text and personal images, are ownership of Chanel Cheeks and copyrighted by me unless stated otherwise. No reproduction of any of the content shall be used without prior written consent. If you want to quote me or repost one of my blogs, please send an email requesting permission to do so first. The proper credit link must state the following: Originally written by Chanel @ kisschanel.com. Stealing blog posts is frowned upon and will result in people laughing at you for at least 5 years. This website is not recommended for inmates, ingrates or anyone professing an irrational fear of cats or for people over the age of 120. The content on this blog is the opinion of myself, not intended to “malign any religion, ethnic group, club, organization, company, or individual,” especially those that are very bored with nothing else to do that will try to fight back anything that I have to say. My intention is to not injure others, just in case someone believes I made their genitals bleed by blogging about love & relationships. Full disclosure.

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