Sunday, September 30, 2007
You knew it was Coming!!!
I made a few minor changes to the blog in terms of the look. Hope u likey and I hope its not too BRIGHT! I'm surprised I kept the other template for soo long.
Gentrify Me
gen·tri·fi·ca·tion /ˌdʒɛntrəfɪˈkeɪʃən/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[jen-truh-fi-key-shuhn] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–noun 1. the buying and renovation of houses and stores in deteriorated urban neighborhoods by upper- or middle-income families or individuals, thus improving property values but often displacing low-income families and small businesses.
2. an instance of gentrifying; the condition of being gentrified
To say the neighborhood is changing, would be an understatement. Caucasians have been creeping up in my neighborhood, buying houses and settling in for the past year. There has been an influx of houses being built for "low-income families," yet they want a minimum of 60k for them. Ummmmmm...it's cheap when compared to a studio apartment in Manhattan for $1250/month..but for a single mother already struggling on her own...it's a little much.So, because this is cheap for those who already pay exorbitant prices in Manhattan, they venture out to Brooklyn. It used to be the less urban areas - Fort Green, Boerum and Clinton Hills. But, now the migration has shifted to place like Bed-Stuy, Flatbush, and my neighborhood, Crown Heights.
I understand that this is a free country and people can live where they want but for me and for most of the folks I know, I feel as though the outside world belongs to whites and that I am in their house with dirty sticky fingers and am not wanted there. It is a comfort to go home to people that look like me, act like me, and understand what I'm going through. I work in an environment that is not controlled by anyone that looks like me and am constantly fighting against the grain to do 10x more to get just a crumb of what they're getting. (I also face sexism - because my male counterparts make more $$ than me and do less work, and at times ageism...but this is another story.)Yet, I am told to swallow the it and be thankful for a job.
At UHA (University of Hartford, where I completed some college and owe a pile of money to), there were 6,000 students, 200 of them black. New England is not a nice place at times and the racial divide is apparent. I've seen the difference between white and black when in West Hartford, a predominantly white community where the school was located, there are winding driveways, huge colonial houses and in East Hartford, a predominantly brown neighborhood, there were literally shacks (in some areas), homelessness and the quality of life is clearly compromised. It made me wonder, are the two (East and West) only separated by train tracks (literally)? Is it skin color? Along with the New England chill, I experienced the shock of having some of my fellow classmates write a letter to the president of the school inquiring as to why there were so many monkeys on campus. Since my freshman year had the most brown students entering the school. The contents of the letter included other such derogatory words that boggled my mind and had me question my own safety. Yet, I adapted. I joined the rugby team. I wrote for the school newspaper. I worked a 24 hour week. I earned a satisfactory GPA, all the while struggling as I watched my roommate from New Hampshire (eek!) party from Tuesday through Saturday, barely scratch out a 2.5, and shop every weekend with her parent's money. What caused our divide? Was I so diligent because I knew that the burden of paying for close to everything lay on my shoulders or was it that I knew what I had to face in the classroom and in the boardroom were the same?
My experience at UHA in regard to the outrage at my presence is part of the basis of my resentment at the presence of whites in my neighborhood. It is a classic example. If a black person moves into a white neighborhood, they face some sort of hostility. (Do I have to take you back to that episode of Sex and the City when Blair Underwood as Dr. Robert Leeds was trying to get into Miranda's co-op and he was faced with lots of adversity. The only reason he got in was because Miranda fought for him...which leads me to another point but that's another post). When whites come into black neighborhoods, no one says anything. This takes make back (yet again) to the essence of what Malcolm X was saying with black nationalism and integration. Blacks look to white presence in their schools, communities, almost everywhere as validation. What are they validating? Us, as a people. That we matter and that we're the prettiest girl at prom or something. Even with early Malcolm, when he said that milk in coffee makes it weak, making it synonymous with blacks not strengthening their bond BEFORE allowing whites to creep in. Yes, we did have a great outpouring with the Jena6 but that's the only time we band together. What about on a smaller level in our neighborhoods?
Many argue with me that its not racism anymore...its classism. But, I argue back that these two are (essentially) the same.
Who do we see in the poorest of neighborhoods? Who are those displaced by natural disasters (i.e. Katrina) or environmental factors (i.e. gangs, drugs) because they cannot afford a way out?
With that said, I do understand the classism debate. But, excuse me if I don't buy into the whole "rags to riches", Horatio Alger, Honest Abe; anyone can make it if they try really really hard. You can't subtract white privilege from the equation. Yes, there are the Condoleezas and the Oprahs. But for each of them, there are 10 little black girls like myself with their nose on the grindstone trying to break through the glass ceiling at their lowly Midtown jobs that their not even passionate about but pays the rent(slight tangent there, my apologies).
It is true that neighborhoods change all the time. Gentrification works the other way as well. When prices fall people flock to a certain area because of this. There is a vast migration from NYC to New Jersey going on right now. Bushwick used to be a Jewish area before it was mainly Latino .Red Hook was Italian before it was home to many blacks. Its more of a mixed bag now.Neighborhoods take years to change completely. But, I want to hold on to something - my neighborhood - the places I've spent my childhood, the old woman next door who knew my family 10 years before I was born, and the boy turned man three doors down that I've had a crush on since adolescence. This is apart of who I am. This is what is important. This is home.
–noun 1. the buying and renovation of houses and stores in deteriorated urban neighborhoods by upper- or middle-income families or individuals, thus improving property values but often displacing low-income families and small businesses.
2. an instance of gentrifying; the condition of being gentrified
To say the neighborhood is changing, would be an understatement. Caucasians have been creeping up in my neighborhood, buying houses and settling in for the past year. There has been an influx of houses being built for "low-income families," yet they want a minimum of 60k for them. Ummmmmm...it's cheap when compared to a studio apartment in Manhattan for $1250/month..but for a single mother already struggling on her own...it's a little much.So, because this is cheap for those who already pay exorbitant prices in Manhattan, they venture out to Brooklyn. It used to be the less urban areas - Fort Green, Boerum and Clinton Hills. But, now the migration has shifted to place like Bed-Stuy, Flatbush, and my neighborhood, Crown Heights.
I understand that this is a free country and people can live where they want but for me and for most of the folks I know, I feel as though the outside world belongs to whites and that I am in their house with dirty sticky fingers and am not wanted there. It is a comfort to go home to people that look like me, act like me, and understand what I'm going through. I work in an environment that is not controlled by anyone that looks like me and am constantly fighting against the grain to do 10x more to get just a crumb of what they're getting. (I also face sexism - because my male counterparts make more $$ than me and do less work, and at times ageism...but this is another story.)Yet, I am told to swallow the it and be thankful for a job.
At UHA (University of Hartford, where I completed some college and owe a pile of money to), there were 6,000 students, 200 of them black. New England is not a nice place at times and the racial divide is apparent. I've seen the difference between white and black when in West Hartford, a predominantly white community where the school was located, there are winding driveways, huge colonial houses and in East Hartford, a predominantly brown neighborhood, there were literally shacks (in some areas), homelessness and the quality of life is clearly compromised. It made me wonder, are the two (East and West) only separated by train tracks (literally)? Is it skin color? Along with the New England chill, I experienced the shock of having some of my fellow classmates write a letter to the president of the school inquiring as to why there were so many monkeys on campus. Since my freshman year had the most brown students entering the school. The contents of the letter included other such derogatory words that boggled my mind and had me question my own safety. Yet, I adapted. I joined the rugby team. I wrote for the school newspaper. I worked a 24 hour week. I earned a satisfactory GPA, all the while struggling as I watched my roommate from New Hampshire (eek!) party from Tuesday through Saturday, barely scratch out a 2.5, and shop every weekend with her parent's money. What caused our divide? Was I so diligent because I knew that the burden of paying for close to everything lay on my shoulders or was it that I knew what I had to face in the classroom and in the boardroom were the same?
My experience at UHA in regard to the outrage at my presence is part of the basis of my resentment at the presence of whites in my neighborhood. It is a classic example. If a black person moves into a white neighborhood, they face some sort of hostility. (Do I have to take you back to that episode of Sex and the City when Blair Underwood as Dr. Robert Leeds was trying to get into Miranda's co-op and he was faced with lots of adversity. The only reason he got in was because Miranda fought for him...which leads me to another point but that's another post). When whites come into black neighborhoods, no one says anything. This takes make back (yet again) to the essence of what Malcolm X was saying with black nationalism and integration. Blacks look to white presence in their schools, communities, almost everywhere as validation. What are they validating? Us, as a people. That we matter and that we're the prettiest girl at prom or something. Even with early Malcolm, when he said that milk in coffee makes it weak, making it synonymous with blacks not strengthening their bond BEFORE allowing whites to creep in. Yes, we did have a great outpouring with the Jena6 but that's the only time we band together. What about on a smaller level in our neighborhoods?
Many argue with me that its not racism anymore...its classism. But, I argue back that these two are (essentially) the same.
Who do we see in the poorest of neighborhoods? Who are those displaced by natural disasters (i.e. Katrina) or environmental factors (i.e. gangs, drugs) because they cannot afford a way out?
With that said, I do understand the classism debate. But, excuse me if I don't buy into the whole "rags to riches", Horatio Alger, Honest Abe; anyone can make it if they try really really hard. You can't subtract white privilege from the equation. Yes, there are the Condoleezas and the Oprahs. But for each of them, there are 10 little black girls like myself with their nose on the grindstone trying to break through the glass ceiling at their lowly Midtown jobs that their not even passionate about but pays the rent(slight tangent there, my apologies).
It is true that neighborhoods change all the time. Gentrification works the other way as well. When prices fall people flock to a certain area because of this. There is a vast migration from NYC to New Jersey going on right now. Bushwick used to be a Jewish area before it was mainly Latino .Red Hook was Italian before it was home to many blacks. Its more of a mixed bag now.Neighborhoods take years to change completely. But, I want to hold on to something - my neighborhood - the places I've spent my childhood, the old woman next door who knew my family 10 years before I was born, and the boy turned man three doors down that I've had a crush on since adolescence. This is apart of who I am. This is what is important. This is home.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Drinkin w/the boss man
I'm so tipsy right now....borderline drunk...we'll see if this makes any sense.
After work, I wanted a cocktail.I went out with GiGi, LP, and Aladdin (my boss - well one of my bosses). He paid for all but one of my 4 drinks... Things were going great until the end of the night when he wanted to play the "would you fuck" game with all of the men in the office, saving himself for last. He talked about how he likes all 3 of us, he thinks I'm soooo cute, and how he loves to eat the pussy. Specifically, he'd eat Gi's and my puss for an hr and a half. Ummmmm.....yea....
We all changed the subject the good girls we are!
Apple Martinis are the devil.
I'm making chicken alfredo! Yummmm....
I hope I don't feel this in the morning....ugh.....
After work, I wanted a cocktail.I went out with GiGi, LP, and Aladdin (my boss - well one of my bosses). He paid for all but one of my 4 drinks... Things were going great until the end of the night when he wanted to play the "would you fuck" game with all of the men in the office, saving himself for last. He talked about how he likes all 3 of us, he thinks I'm soooo cute, and how he loves to eat the pussy. Specifically, he'd eat Gi's and my puss for an hr and a half. Ummmmm.....yea....
We all changed the subject the good girls we are!
Apple Martinis are the devil.
I'm making chicken alfredo! Yummmm....
I hope I don't feel this in the morning....ugh.....
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
sometimes...
i feel so alone and overwhelmed and as though i made poo out of my life.
i don't know where i'm going. i don't know what i'm doing. i have a phone full of numbers, but no one to call to make me feel better.
just great.
i don't know where i'm going. i don't know what i'm doing. i have a phone full of numbers, but no one to call to make me feel better.
just great.
Damn You, Nepotism!
I feel especially oppressed today...which may seem a lil melodromatic, but I lost the promotion.
To the VP of Customer Care's daughter.
Bitch!
She wore sneakers to the interview! SNEAKERS!
I wish I could say that I haven't felt so stifled at a job in all my life, but I have and this shit sucks.
I feel as though I'm fighting against a huge tidal wave and the more I fight, the higher and stronger it gets. I was counting on this promotion. It was to be my 'get out of jail free' card. To make it worse, people were rooting against me. Why? Because they didn't want me to leave the department.
That's heartwarming, but who does that?
I am depressed. I feel like I'm in a box and that box is steadily filling up with water.
Does anyone have a sledgehammer I can borrow?
To the VP of Customer Care's daughter.
Bitch!
She wore sneakers to the interview! SNEAKERS!
I wish I could say that I haven't felt so stifled at a job in all my life, but I have and this shit sucks.
I feel as though I'm fighting against a huge tidal wave and the more I fight, the higher and stronger it gets. I was counting on this promotion. It was to be my 'get out of jail free' card. To make it worse, people were rooting against me. Why? Because they didn't want me to leave the department.
That's heartwarming, but who does that?
I am depressed. I feel like I'm in a box and that box is steadily filling up with water.
Does anyone have a sledgehammer I can borrow?
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
I'm probably going to hell for this....
but, I couldn't help it. I love living alone. It's just me being whatever I choose to be at the moment I choose to be it.
Best Friend invited herself over today at arond 5pm. I was in the middle of my closet conversion. Putting the summer dresses away (even though I can still wear them...its hot outside) and breaking out the fall/winter gear. It's my season-change ritual, a time to reflect and wish-list in my head. I wanted to finish that, make dinner, watch NCIS, Cane, and Cold Case with a Mint Julep mask on my face, write a little, listen to some Coltrane and make it a night. Best Friend disrupted all of that. She told me for the millionth time how much she hates her boyfriend and his mother and wah wah wah wah wah wah.
I'm sorry.
I am everyone's Dr. Phil. I listen and listen and listen. I was out of patience. I told her. Look, you're not happy. He's cheating on you - that's apparent. Do something about it. Look at this. This is the choice you're making - to not be happy and continue this relationship that's dead. She looked like I slapped her. I've never been so blunt with her about how I feel about her boyfriend. (hello passive aggressiveness) But, she took it and she looked up flights to Las Vegas (where the boyfriend and her stuff are) and a way to ship her things back to NY. She started talking about how she was going to end it. So, I guess what I said worked.
At 7, I made dinner. We ate, watching CSI. I was annoyed at her. I didnt want her in my space anymore. She's been annoying me for a few days now. Its a number of things, but I just wanted her to go home. It's one thing to kick Afroman out but another thing to kick your best friend of 9 years, who nursed me back to health when I was sick out of my house. So, I told her I was going to sleep, laid in the bed for 1/2 hr before she left.
I feel guilty. I should've just told her I wanted my space. But, feigning sleepiness is easier or is it?
Every action has a reaction, but sitting here, typing this with my Mint Julep mask, watching NCIS on dvr...it seems worth it..let's just hope she doesn't find the link to this blog...
Best Friend invited herself over today at arond 5pm. I was in the middle of my closet conversion. Putting the summer dresses away (even though I can still wear them...its hot outside) and breaking out the fall/winter gear. It's my season-change ritual, a time to reflect and wish-list in my head. I wanted to finish that, make dinner, watch NCIS, Cane, and Cold Case with a Mint Julep mask on my face, write a little, listen to some Coltrane and make it a night. Best Friend disrupted all of that. She told me for the millionth time how much she hates her boyfriend and his mother and wah wah wah wah wah wah.
I'm sorry.
I am everyone's Dr. Phil. I listen and listen and listen. I was out of patience. I told her. Look, you're not happy. He's cheating on you - that's apparent. Do something about it. Look at this. This is the choice you're making - to not be happy and continue this relationship that's dead. She looked like I slapped her. I've never been so blunt with her about how I feel about her boyfriend. (hello passive aggressiveness) But, she took it and she looked up flights to Las Vegas (where the boyfriend and her stuff are) and a way to ship her things back to NY. She started talking about how she was going to end it. So, I guess what I said worked.
At 7, I made dinner. We ate, watching CSI. I was annoyed at her. I didnt want her in my space anymore. She's been annoying me for a few days now. Its a number of things, but I just wanted her to go home. It's one thing to kick Afroman out but another thing to kick your best friend of 9 years, who nursed me back to health when I was sick out of my house. So, I told her I was going to sleep, laid in the bed for 1/2 hr before she left.
I feel guilty. I should've just told her I wanted my space. But, feigning sleepiness is easier or is it?
Every action has a reaction, but sitting here, typing this with my Mint Julep mask, watching NCIS on dvr...it seems worth it..let's just hope she doesn't find the link to this blog...
I Got Boots!!!
The stepmother took pity on me (last week I asked to borrow her flat knee-length boots and she said no :-( and best believe I was salty as shit about that) and bought me some boots. This is from a woman who didn't even buy me birthday gifts ever since I was 13. She just gave me money and said enjoy. Buuuutttt, I get this cryptic message - "Knock on my door when you come home" and I call her this morning when I got up and she's like "Go in my room. There's something in there for you."
BOOOOTS!
I love boots. Because I've done track, soccer, and rugby, my calves are very muscular. It's hard for me to find boots that come above them. But these do!(I think it's because I still have the sick weight off) But, nevertheless, I have this gift and I'm very grateful.
See, it doesn't take much to make me happy....
BOOOOTS!
I love boots. Because I've done track, soccer, and rugby, my calves are very muscular. It's hard for me to find boots that come above them. But these do!(I think it's because I still have the sick weight off) But, nevertheless, I have this gift and I'm very grateful.
See, it doesn't take much to make me happy....
Monday, September 24, 2007
Funkier than a mosquito's peeter
the title has nothing to do with the post, but it's my new fave nina simone song.
i'm so freakin excited, even if my punctuation doesn't show it. i didn't feel like typing like a regular person..to see if i could do a whole post without being neurotic about things like capital letters...
anywho! even though my sidekick is toast, i had wonderful day. twin and i hit the fabric district for some inspiration for my ball costume. i had to talk twin into getting this particular fabric. he wants me to do more color, but i can't help that its an ovah black material. he didn't see my vision until he made the complete dress. but, it's goooorgeous! i'm so in love with it. i wish i could wear it around the house with a lil apron on like suzy mofo sunshine. i'm trying to get the girls together for a production which seems to be the hardest thing. plus, i don't have patience. in my former house, i worked alone. if i wanted something, i went out and got it done myself. this new house works differently. its great, but i have to adjust to not being the rhinestone cowboy anymore and to having another sister that competes in the same category as me. sharing the limelight and making decisions together is sooo taxing. but...at the end of the day, i'm happy...i know my shit will be on point.
other than that, today started off really dismal and its ended with me being tired, happy, and looking forward to something interesting being on my dvr.
and with that mates, goodnight.
kisses!
i'm so freakin excited, even if my punctuation doesn't show it. i didn't feel like typing like a regular person..to see if i could do a whole post without being neurotic about things like capital letters...
anywho! even though my sidekick is toast, i had wonderful day. twin and i hit the fabric district for some inspiration for my ball costume. i had to talk twin into getting this particular fabric. he wants me to do more color, but i can't help that its an ovah black material. he didn't see my vision until he made the complete dress. but, it's goooorgeous! i'm so in love with it. i wish i could wear it around the house with a lil apron on like suzy mofo sunshine. i'm trying to get the girls together for a production which seems to be the hardest thing. plus, i don't have patience. in my former house, i worked alone. if i wanted something, i went out and got it done myself. this new house works differently. its great, but i have to adjust to not being the rhinestone cowboy anymore and to having another sister that competes in the same category as me. sharing the limelight and making decisions together is sooo taxing. but...at the end of the day, i'm happy...i know my shit will be on point.
other than that, today started off really dismal and its ended with me being tired, happy, and looking forward to something interesting being on my dvr.
and with that mates, goodnight.
kisses!
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Goddamnit!
Yesterday, my soda spilled in my bag with my phone, my latest story, and all the other shit that's in there. I thought nothing of it until today when my sidekick decides to have a white screen and not turn off or on. I take it to the T-mobile store and the rude ass sales guy is like did u have it in extreme heat or cold or did u drop in the tub or something. I'm like..no...but my soda did spill. He goes bingo! Its not under warranty anymore...so you have to buy a new phone. *SONOFABITCHGODDAMNIT! FUCK!
I was so mad, I could spit! SHIT!
My funds are sort of depleted with me paying rent this week and all the other shit I
have to pay at the end of the month.
I'm so spoiled. I have to have a sidekick. I can't imagine not having a phone with im and email and web. Its just not possible.
If its not one thing...goddamnit it's another.
*sorry about the swearing...but you understand my pain.
I was so mad, I could spit! SHIT!
My funds are sort of depleted with me paying rent this week and all the other shit I
have to pay at the end of the month.
I'm so spoiled. I have to have a sidekick. I can't imagine not having a phone with im and email and web. Its just not possible.
If its not one thing...goddamnit it's another.
*sorry about the swearing...but you understand my pain.
Shout Out!
I told myself that I was going to shout out new (and not so new) blogs that hold my attention bi-weekly. I'm not sure if I'm on schedule. But, anywho, my boyfriend's back and he's better than ever!!!! (lol)
Meet... Frank Leon Roberts
He's a dreamboat and oh so sexy.
His blog is funny, smart, interesting, and very relevant to what's going on in the community. Check him out!
..and sorry ladies...he's interested in the same thing as we are. You know I tried! ;-)
Meet... Frank Leon Roberts
He's a dreamboat and oh so sexy.
His blog is funny, smart, interesting, and very relevant to what's going on in the community. Check him out!
..and sorry ladies...he's interested in the same thing as we are. You know I tried! ;-)
Hold the Phone!
"Don't get too familiar with me.."
Lately, I've been feeling this way towards most of my coworkers. This woman (who I think has an unhealthy obsession with black folks)pinches my cheeks every (frickin) day. I ignored it, but its been bothering me for the past few days. I said - WAIT a goddamn minute here - I'm a grown woman! I'm not some cutesy little girl. Plus, I'm not so keen on people touching my face. In fact, I HATE people touching my face. I don't know if you wash your hands when you go to the bathroom. I don't know if you scratch your ass or your hair or touch doorknobs and then put your bacteria-infested hands on my face. EEK!
I work for a car service as a reservationist. A driver came in talking to me, calling me by my first name like we've known each other for years. Like yea, Nina, let me know. I get very anxious when people try to know you too well, too quickly. Like...why? what are your ulterior motives?
I think I'm calling myself Nina from now on, by the way. For some reason, at the club on Friday night, I referred to myself as Nina with Gi and LP. They were like wha??? That's my ballroom alter ego. When I compete, I think of myself as Nina, that bad-ass chick on the street that turns heads and makes men's tongues wag.
So..that's me..NINA. (lol)
Anywho, back to the tangent at hand, You don't know me dude. He said my name like 10 times in the span of like 3 sentences. Yuck.
At times, because I look young and sorta cute. I feel as thought people look at me as though I'm a tart and I want to go....I WAS SMART WAAYYYY BEFORE I WAS CUTE. I HAVE A 3.86 GPA FROM UHA. I REEEEEEAD! MY FAVORITE WRITER ALONG WITH ERICA SIMONE TURNIPSEED IS OCTAVIA BUTLER AND KATE CHOPIN! I CAN WRITE! I CAN CONSTRUCT PERFECT SENTENCES. I KNOW HOW TO USE A SEMICOLON! MY FAVORITE MUSEUMS ARE MOMA AND WHITNEY. AND BESIDES THE ARCHITECTURE, THE GUGGENEHEIM IS KINDA OVERRATED. I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT BASQUIAT, DAVID HAMMONDS and GEORGIA O'KEEFE. I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT DHORUBA BIN WAHAD AND ASSATA SHAKUR AS WELL AS BIGGIE AND OUTKAST! I AM NOT JUST A PYT. GEEEEZ. But, I'm passive-aggressive in the most infuriating way and I just smile and grit my teeth, while planning whomever's total destruction.
Don't underestimate me. You may just be my next victim.
Lately, I've been feeling this way towards most of my coworkers. This woman (who I think has an unhealthy obsession with black folks)pinches my cheeks every (frickin) day. I ignored it, but its been bothering me for the past few days. I said - WAIT a goddamn minute here - I'm a grown woman! I'm not some cutesy little girl. Plus, I'm not so keen on people touching my face. In fact, I HATE people touching my face. I don't know if you wash your hands when you go to the bathroom. I don't know if you scratch your ass or your hair or touch doorknobs and then put your bacteria-infested hands on my face. EEK!
I work for a car service as a reservationist. A driver came in talking to me, calling me by my first name like we've known each other for years. Like yea, Nina, let me know. I get very anxious when people try to know you too well, too quickly. Like...why? what are your ulterior motives?
I think I'm calling myself Nina from now on, by the way. For some reason, at the club on Friday night, I referred to myself as Nina with Gi and LP. They were like wha??? That's my ballroom alter ego. When I compete, I think of myself as Nina, that bad-ass chick on the street that turns heads and makes men's tongues wag.
So..that's me..NINA. (lol)
Anywho, back to the tangent at hand, You don't know me dude. He said my name like 10 times in the span of like 3 sentences. Yuck.
At times, because I look young and sorta cute. I feel as thought people look at me as though I'm a tart and I want to go....I WAS SMART WAAYYYY BEFORE I WAS CUTE. I HAVE A 3.86 GPA FROM UHA. I REEEEEEAD! MY FAVORITE WRITER ALONG WITH ERICA SIMONE TURNIPSEED IS OCTAVIA BUTLER AND KATE CHOPIN! I CAN WRITE! I CAN CONSTRUCT PERFECT SENTENCES. I KNOW HOW TO USE A SEMICOLON! MY FAVORITE MUSEUMS ARE MOMA AND WHITNEY. AND BESIDES THE ARCHITECTURE, THE GUGGENEHEIM IS KINDA OVERRATED. I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT BASQUIAT, DAVID HAMMONDS and GEORGIA O'KEEFE. I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT DHORUBA BIN WAHAD AND ASSATA SHAKUR AS WELL AS BIGGIE AND OUTKAST! I AM NOT JUST A PYT. GEEEEZ. But, I'm passive-aggressive in the most infuriating way and I just smile and grit my teeth, while planning whomever's total destruction.
Don't underestimate me. You may just be my next victim.
How I'm Feeling Today (a musical perspective)
Brown Skin Lady - BlackStarr
I don't get many compliments, but I am confident
Used to have a complex about, gettin too complex
You got me, willin to try, looked me in the eye
My head is still in the sky, since you walked on by
I'm feelin high, got my imagination flickerin like hot flames
it's how it seems, you make me wanna ride the Coltrane to A Love Supreme
My brown lady, creates environments, for
happy brown babies, I know it sounds crazy
but your skin's the inspiration for cocoa butter
You provoke a brother we should get to know one another
I discover when I bring you through my people say TRUE, all I can say
is all praise due I thank you God for a beauty like you
o look just like you?
Dark stocking, high heels, lipstick, alla that
You know what?
Without makeup you're beautiful
Whatcha you need to paint the next face for
We're not dealin with the ? of standard beauty tonight
Turn off the TV and put the magazine away
In the mirror tell me what you see
See the evidence of divine presence
Women of the, Carribean, they got the, golden sun
I know women on the continent got it
Nigeria, and Ghana, you know they got it
Tanzania, Namibia and Mozambique
and Bothswana, to let it speak
about latinas, columbianas
Robin Thicke: Would that make you Love Me
If I wasnt who I was
If I wasnt me
Would u stand next 2 me in the street
If I changed my hair
Would u then be proud
If I ran round town with a different crowd
Would u be my baby
If I had more money
Would that make u love me more
Would that make u love me more
If I practiced a different religion
If I spoke my words differently
If I changed my tune 2 your favorite song
Would u wrap your arms around me
If I dug down deep 2 the bottom
Would u love me unconditionally
If I sound like u and we laugh the same
Would u mind if I hang around
Would that make u love me more
Would that make u love me more
If I came 2 u from a different place
Would my message finally be heard
If its just me and u and theres no one else
Would u see how much were the same
Would u be my lover
If I'm a different color
Would u be my brother
Would that make u love me more
Foo Fighters: The Pretender
What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one in your place
You're the pretender
What if I say I will never surrender?
I don't get many compliments, but I am confident
Used to have a complex about, gettin too complex
You got me, willin to try, looked me in the eye
My head is still in the sky, since you walked on by
I'm feelin high, got my imagination flickerin like hot flames
it's how it seems, you make me wanna ride the Coltrane to A Love Supreme
My brown lady, creates environments, for
happy brown babies, I know it sounds crazy
but your skin's the inspiration for cocoa butter
You provoke a brother we should get to know one another
I discover when I bring you through my people say TRUE, all I can say
is all praise due I thank you God for a beauty like you
o look just like you?
Dark stocking, high heels, lipstick, alla that
You know what?
Without makeup you're beautiful
Whatcha you need to paint the next face for
We're not dealin with the ? of standard beauty tonight
Turn off the TV and put the magazine away
In the mirror tell me what you see
See the evidence of divine presence
Women of the, Carribean, they got the, golden sun
I know women on the continent got it
Nigeria, and Ghana, you know they got it
Tanzania, Namibia and Mozambique
and Bothswana, to let it speak
about latinas, columbianas
Robin Thicke: Would that make you Love Me
If I wasnt who I was
If I wasnt me
Would u stand next 2 me in the street
If I changed my hair
Would u then be proud
If I ran round town with a different crowd
Would u be my baby
If I had more money
Would that make u love me more
Would that make u love me more
If I practiced a different religion
If I spoke my words differently
If I changed my tune 2 your favorite song
Would u wrap your arms around me
If I dug down deep 2 the bottom
Would u love me unconditionally
If I sound like u and we laugh the same
Would u mind if I hang around
Would that make u love me more
Would that make u love me more
If I came 2 u from a different place
Would my message finally be heard
If its just me and u and theres no one else
Would u see how much were the same
Would u be my lover
If I'm a different color
Would u be my brother
Would that make u love me more
Foo Fighters: The Pretender
What if I say I'm not like the others?
What if I say I'm not just another one in your place
You're the pretender
What if I say I will never surrender?
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Gots to be Real
Good morning! I'm not so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I'm quite annoyed with myself for hanging out last night and for not sleeping and for going to work like this AGAIN. I'm irritable and highly-succeptible to smacking someone square in the mouth, if pushed. Its just one of those days, ya know. No Patience Saturday is in effect. Yet, in the midst of my super duper funk, I thought I caught a glimpse of RastaMan on the train this morning. That's why I chose to sit in the car I sat in.
There he was, beautiful chocolate brown skin, long neat dreadlocks, moustache, enviable cheekbones, slim, tall, but not RastaMan. In my head I wasscreaming IMPOSTER! IMPOSTER! But I was also contemplating getting hisnumber, asking him out....because suddenly, in my super duper funk I have grown a nice set of cajones. But, upon a second and a third/fourth/fifth glance, I realized I was trying to sell myself an illusion. He's not RastaMan. He could never be (especially with the way he swung his head around when the girl behind him fell asleep and laid her head on his back...hmmmm kind of effeminate) and in the end....I want the real thing. At this stage in our relationship, I'd have a better chance at winning the hope diamond in the mail through a raffle.
But, a girl can dream can't she?
Where's my raffle ticket?
There he was, beautiful chocolate brown skin, long neat dreadlocks, moustache, enviable cheekbones, slim, tall, but not RastaMan. In my head I wasscreaming IMPOSTER! IMPOSTER! But I was also contemplating getting hisnumber, asking him out....because suddenly, in my super duper funk I have grown a nice set of cajones. But, upon a second and a third/fourth/fifth glance, I realized I was trying to sell myself an illusion. He's not RastaMan. He could never be (especially with the way he swung his head around when the girl behind him fell asleep and laid her head on his back...hmmmm kind of effeminate) and in the end....I want the real thing. At this stage in our relationship, I'd have a better chance at winning the hope diamond in the mail through a raffle.
But, a girl can dream can't she?
Where's my raffle ticket?
This is gonna hurt in the morning....
After work, Gi, LP, and I went to Slate to meet up with Gi's gay for drinks and dirty talk. The night was going so well, we ended up walking down to Manatus in the village, getting a bite to eat, jumping into a cab waiting at a red light (really the only way to catch a cab n the city if you're brown), meandered our way to the new tailfeather....all the while in my best gold eyeshadow. I didn't get as tipsy as I would've liked....but I haven't been sleeping well lately, so its probably best I didn't go too far.
The music was kind of stupid til around 1:30. It had its highs and lows....but there were two male dancers that were so damn beautiful. We couldn't take our eyes off of them. Gorgeous..Yummy. It hurts me to my heart they're gay. Highlights
of the night included seeing lots of beautiful unattainable men, Gi's gay calling me a faggot - because I was so dramatic in my dancing to Jay-Z's "Hollywood", leaving before the club got too too crowded, and making it home at precisely 3 am. I have 2 hours to sleep before I have to be up again, which means I probably won't get any sleep.
The music was kind of stupid til around 1:30. It had its highs and lows....but there were two male dancers that were so damn beautiful. We couldn't take our eyes off of them. Gorgeous..Yummy. It hurts me to my heart they're gay. Highlights
of the night included seeing lots of beautiful unattainable men, Gi's gay calling me a faggot - because I was so dramatic in my dancing to Jay-Z's "Hollywood", leaving before the club got too too crowded, and making it home at precisely 3 am. I have 2 hours to sleep before I have to be up again, which means I probably won't get any sleep.
Ahhhh to be young, dumb, and have to work on a Saturday.....
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Rubbish!
I have maybe three pages left to my short story. Everything I'm writing is pure trash. None of the ends are tying together. Everything sucks.
Where's my talent? Where's this great idea I had? Where's the magic?
Where's my talent? Where's this great idea I had? Where's the magic?
Gone.
Gone.
Gone.
I'm a fraud. A writer in my head because clearly its not coming out of my fingers.
*sigh*
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Whip Out the Mascara
There's a pageant coming up. I'm really excited. I haven't participated in a while. The theme of this one is Dreamgirls...which means big hair, long lashes, gowns, razzle dazzle. I love the razzle dazzle. I'm in a new house. A house is the name of which you're representing, kind of like a model that's signed to an agency. That model's representing IMG or Elite or whatever. My last house wasn't a good fit for me and I think this one is good. We'll see.
We're in phase one. Thinking of dress ideas, hair, makeup, and possibly a production.There's a lot that goes into it...which is why sometimes at the last minute, I just say...fuck it.
We're in phase one. Thinking of dress ideas, hair, makeup, and possibly a production.There's a lot that goes into it...which is why sometimes at the last minute, I just say...fuck it.
We'll see........< Afroman and I spoke via aim last night. Thank goodness for sidekicks.
He's a bill collector. I think that's so funny. He's sarcastic as hell, but he never argues or raises his voices, which is a good temperment for that job. I told him if he sees my name to cross it off....walk on by....he said he would definitely be calling. We talked about other mind stimulating things, like Nas gearing up to debate Bill O'reilly, Bill Mahr saying to the Muslim Mos Def that Islam is the root behind terrorism, and me trying to guilt trip him into moving back downstate.
I love Afroman because no matter what we do romantically, we can roll over and have an adult conversation. He's pretty much the only man in my life that doesn't care about lip gloss and hair. Plus, he knew me way before I started competing in pageants, so he expects me to be about more than that.
I'm sleepy as usual and staring at an 8-hr day ahead of me.
Good luck. Godspeed.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Goodbye my Lover, babies, and body pains
I'm still furious over the Afroman debacle. It was just so sudden and I'm not used to turning over and him being there. I miss him. I kinda need him now to give me that full body massage he's been promising. I didn't realize how fragile the body is or maybe I didn't realize how sick I was. Walking, changing my bedsheets, doing laundry - everything is like a workout. My muscles are waking up and it is quite unpleasant at times. My legs are getting the brunt of the pain. I walk a lot.
Yesterday, Twin and I walked from Downtown Brooklyn to his Carroll Gardens apartment. We had to take breaks because my body was not having
an easy go of it. Back to the subject at hand -Afroman is not going to be home for a while. A while could mean two years, maybe three. Unless, I get it together to visit; which I'm partial to because he's living with his ex and I know they're together like man and wife (in all important ways) - I won't be seeing him for a minute. I guess its time for me to get over it and find a boyfriend or some male distraction.
That shouldn't be too hard right?
Yesterday, Twin and I walked from Downtown Brooklyn to his Carroll Gardens apartment. We had to take breaks because my body was not having
an easy go of it. Back to the subject at hand -Afroman is not going to be home for a while. A while could mean two years, maybe three. Unless, I get it together to visit; which I'm partial to because he's living with his ex and I know they're together like man and wife (in all important ways) - I won't be seeing him for a minute. I guess its time for me to get over it and find a boyfriend or some male distraction.
That shouldn't be too hard right?
Snippet of a conversation bet me n twin:
T: my lesbian friend wants to have a baby with me
Me: awwww...that's cute. Wait! Ewww...the natural way?
T: yea...I'm not spending 15k on insemination or fertilization treatments. You know how many bags and shoes that is.
Me: .....
T: I don't think I could have a baby with her. She's a mess.
Me: I love you but I don't think I could have a baby with you. I'd be afraid to have the baby a certain way or the baby bag looking a certain way. I'd second guess everything. Plus, you're controlling. Sheesh
T: Yea. My ex called me anal-retentive
Me: that's putting it midly.
T:....
Me: So, its settled. No baby with crazy lesbians and no baby with chunky good friends either.
T: pretty much.I'm on my way home from Twin's house to go to my stinky house to dolaundry, clean my refrigerator, take out the garbage and vacuum.
Good times.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
you know?
You know how you get home late from a party or something after being tired all day and you fall right into sleep. You could hardly get all of your party clothes off and your sleep clothes on before you're laying in the bed. And you look at the clock. Shit! 1:45am. You have an early morning. You sleep hard and as the sleep is feeling good to you. You're warm. You're in the groove. Nothing else in that moment matters except that sleep you're getting right then. And the alarm wakes you up. 5:35am. Fuck! Gotta go to work. You ignore it for a minute (or so you think) and you roll over and it is 6:01am and you're calling frantically for a cab. You're 20 minutes late for work and life is crazy conflama around you, but you don't care because all you can think about it getting back in that bed to that sleep.
Ya know?
Ya know?
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Moving on Up *hopefully*
There's an opening in the accounting department of our company. The person who closes driver's receipts needs help. I want to be it! I hate numbers, but they always add up with me, so that's not a problem. AND it would mean 9-5 Monday through Friday.
NO MORE SATURDAYS!!
NO MORE SUNDAYS!!
I get to wear jeans everyday. I wouldn't have to deal with people. I could listen to my ipod and type on my computer screen all day (yay!). I would have an actual chain of command order about things. I would probably be on the same pay scale, but it would be worth not getting a raise *almost*
So, I put in my notice, that I want it. There is no reason why I shouldn't get it. The head of accounting has to talk to the head of Customer Service. Unless he blocks me because my department would take a hit if I leave, I would be so mad. He's notorious for doing shit like that. Just when you thought it was safe to advance in the company, he's there to plant your ankles in cement.
But, I'm still hoping. Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming. Swimming, swimming, swimming. :D
NO MORE SATURDAYS!!
NO MORE SUNDAYS!!
I get to wear jeans everyday. I wouldn't have to deal with people. I could listen to my ipod and type on my computer screen all day (yay!). I would have an actual chain of command order about things. I would probably be on the same pay scale, but it would be worth not getting a raise *almost*
So, I put in my notice, that I want it. There is no reason why I shouldn't get it. The head of accounting has to talk to the head of Customer Service. Unless he blocks me because my department would take a hit if I leave, I would be so mad. He's notorious for doing shit like that. Just when you thought it was safe to advance in the company, he's there to plant your ankles in cement.
But, I'm still hoping. Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming. Swimming, swimming, swimming. :D
Gypsy's Home *kinda*
None of you mentioned that you hated me for throwing the cat out the window.
Thanks!
Gypsy came home again. This time, I was in the bed sick and BestFriend saw her. BestFriend is a complete sucker for anything furry that looks helpless and brought her upstairs. She was like "How could you do this to her?" Meanwhile, the cat is looking in every room, trying to sniff out any trace of herself I guess. I didn't miss her. I told BF, I couldn't take her. So, we packed her up in the carrying box I took her home in, she went home with BF for the night and went back to the animal shelter the next day.
Do you know they have the nerve to charge me a fee for bringing her back! Ugh! So, I guess that issue's all sewn up.
Thanks!
Gypsy came home again. This time, I was in the bed sick and BestFriend saw her. BestFriend is a complete sucker for anything furry that looks helpless and brought her upstairs. She was like "How could you do this to her?" Meanwhile, the cat is looking in every room, trying to sniff out any trace of herself I guess. I didn't miss her. I told BF, I couldn't take her. So, we packed her up in the carrying box I took her home in, she went home with BF for the night and went back to the animal shelter the next day.
Do you know they have the nerve to charge me a fee for bringing her back! Ugh! So, I guess that issue's all sewn up.
Slippery Slope...
I woke up this morning recounting all the things people have been saying to me the past uhh day.
"You look great"
"Wow, you lost weight" and my FAVE
"Your face looks slimmer!" Oh...you had me at face...lol
The Get Slim Quick diet also known as the Unintentional Beyonce Diet has worked even though I fell into it like Alice fell into that rabbit hole, except I came out 5 pounds lighter in the face and pale. Going to Miami was all in vain and it seems like I have to do it all again. *sigh*
I said all of this to say that I'm slowly getting my portions up. I feel rickety like an old woman in amazement at young strapping boys that can lift a gallon of milk all the way down the street....but maybe I should pull a Lohan or a Richie and just don't eat. It would be months (months!) before anyone knew what was up.
This post started off being kitschy. Like I'm going to be the new Lohan, but then I started thinking about my relationship with food.
Growing up, I was always chunky. Blame Grandma. Both of my parents were long and lean (even if my dad was short and solid). All of my siblings came out to be either tall and lanky or short and lean. Then..***tada*** it's me!!!!
Short and chunky and my parents were shaking their heads. I remember growing up and I wasn't really a favorite with the other girls. I couldn't jump double dutch. No one wanted to teach me. But, I could run fast. I could jump fences. I climbed the tree in the front of my house with ease. I did all of this with the boys - but I wasn't a tomboy. I did it in my 'oh so glamourous' purple jellies (which I left in Bermuda in 1995 and I'm still bitter about that), or in my slammin neon green tights, or my favorite multicolored dress with ruffles(!) that my stepmom hated because she said it made me it looked like a banana child.
While running and playing with my brother and his friends, Curtis said to me, "J, you're so fat. How many cheeseburgers do you eat a day?"
I was stunned. I thought Curtis was yummy and I didn't understand why he would think I ate a lot. I hardly ate at all. I am the pickiest eater. I tried to defend myself against his claim, but to no avail and when I think of that summer, I still hear his 10 year old voice going, "how many cheeseburgers?" There were various names after that, "McFatty," "Notorious P.I.G.," "Ms. Piggy" was really popular, and there are probably others surpressed somewhere in my subconscious.
Ironically or subsequently, that was the same summer I learned that food was comforting. I remember sneaking into the fridge and digging my finger in the chocolate frosting that was always there. (My mom baked a lot) I got into the habit of buying a Little Debbie snack when I went to the store for my mom only to be too ashamed to show her what I'd gotten and wolfed it down before I got home.
I got heat for my weight from everywhere. Mom, kids at school, kids at home, and nowhere was safe. No one offered me a safe place.
Family gatherings with my stepmom and her family were the worst where each aunt (who are no Kate Mosses) would stare at me and tell me how much prettier I'd be slimmer and then heap on a bunch of food and call me an ungrateful city gal if I didn't eat.
With all of this, I'm surprised, I never did more than stick my finger in that jar of frosting. I have a strong gag reflex and can't throw up easily. (By easily, I mean, I haven't thrown up since I was 3 or 4). Because of the lack of friends, I read a lot and I knew the body needed food to be strong. Also, I went to a pretty good school and discovered dance and after school programs to be in. Otherwise, I don't know if I could have survived.
I know you're probably thinking how could someone complimenting you now take you back to the pain of your past. But, when Lindsay was asked why she thought she had to be so thin. After people starting saying how good she looked (even though I wanted to throw her a candybar) when she was sickly small, she felt as though she had to maintain it. I could go on about how society has high expectations and standards of beauty, but I remember that first day after Soccer Training when I had a flat stomach. I remember the outfit I wore and everything and how smoking hot I thought I was. Is obsession with the body only unhealthy when you're small enough for the world to notice or big enough for the world not to notice?
I'm long past the days of boys chasing me down the street asking me how many cheeseburgers I eat a day. I'm way past the disgusting names I was called. Am I past those feelings yet? Not quite. Some scars run deep. Even in arguing with adults, the first thing they put in there - you fat sonofasoandso.
Thank you for the compliments. It literally took sweat, tears, and sitting with a sickle over my head to get here (mind you, its only like 5 pounds..hehe).
Don't worry about me, I don't want to go back there to lose another 5 pounds. Because, if there's one thing me and my slim face know, is that when it comes to weight and issues...it's a slippery slope my friend.
"You look great"
"Wow, you lost weight" and my FAVE
"Your face looks slimmer!" Oh...you had me at face...lol
The Get Slim Quick diet also known as the Unintentional Beyonce Diet has worked even though I fell into it like Alice fell into that rabbit hole, except I came out 5 pounds lighter in the face and pale. Going to Miami was all in vain and it seems like I have to do it all again. *sigh*
I said all of this to say that I'm slowly getting my portions up. I feel rickety like an old woman in amazement at young strapping boys that can lift a gallon of milk all the way down the street....but maybe I should pull a Lohan or a Richie and just don't eat. It would be months (months!) before anyone knew what was up.
This post started off being kitschy. Like I'm going to be the new Lohan, but then I started thinking about my relationship with food.
Growing up, I was always chunky. Blame Grandma. Both of my parents were long and lean (even if my dad was short and solid). All of my siblings came out to be either tall and lanky or short and lean. Then..***tada*** it's me!!!!
Short and chunky and my parents were shaking their heads. I remember growing up and I wasn't really a favorite with the other girls. I couldn't jump double dutch. No one wanted to teach me. But, I could run fast. I could jump fences. I climbed the tree in the front of my house with ease. I did all of this with the boys - but I wasn't a tomboy. I did it in my 'oh so glamourous' purple jellies (which I left in Bermuda in 1995 and I'm still bitter about that), or in my slammin neon green tights, or my favorite multicolored dress with ruffles(!) that my stepmom hated because she said it made me it looked like a banana child.
While running and playing with my brother and his friends, Curtis said to me, "J, you're so fat. How many cheeseburgers do you eat a day?"
I was stunned. I thought Curtis was yummy and I didn't understand why he would think I ate a lot. I hardly ate at all. I am the pickiest eater. I tried to defend myself against his claim, but to no avail and when I think of that summer, I still hear his 10 year old voice going, "how many cheeseburgers?" There were various names after that, "McFatty," "Notorious P.I.G.," "Ms. Piggy" was really popular, and there are probably others surpressed somewhere in my subconscious.
Ironically or subsequently, that was the same summer I learned that food was comforting. I remember sneaking into the fridge and digging my finger in the chocolate frosting that was always there. (My mom baked a lot) I got into the habit of buying a Little Debbie snack when I went to the store for my mom only to be too ashamed to show her what I'd gotten and wolfed it down before I got home.
I got heat for my weight from everywhere. Mom, kids at school, kids at home, and nowhere was safe. No one offered me a safe place.
Family gatherings with my stepmom and her family were the worst where each aunt (who are no Kate Mosses) would stare at me and tell me how much prettier I'd be slimmer and then heap on a bunch of food and call me an ungrateful city gal if I didn't eat.
With all of this, I'm surprised, I never did more than stick my finger in that jar of frosting. I have a strong gag reflex and can't throw up easily. (By easily, I mean, I haven't thrown up since I was 3 or 4). Because of the lack of friends, I read a lot and I knew the body needed food to be strong. Also, I went to a pretty good school and discovered dance and after school programs to be in. Otherwise, I don't know if I could have survived.
I know you're probably thinking how could someone complimenting you now take you back to the pain of your past. But, when Lindsay was asked why she thought she had to be so thin. After people starting saying how good she looked (even though I wanted to throw her a candybar) when she was sickly small, she felt as though she had to maintain it. I could go on about how society has high expectations and standards of beauty, but I remember that first day after Soccer Training when I had a flat stomach. I remember the outfit I wore and everything and how smoking hot I thought I was. Is obsession with the body only unhealthy when you're small enough for the world to notice or big enough for the world not to notice?
I'm long past the days of boys chasing me down the street asking me how many cheeseburgers I eat a day. I'm way past the disgusting names I was called. Am I past those feelings yet? Not quite. Some scars run deep. Even in arguing with adults, the first thing they put in there - you fat sonofasoandso.
Thank you for the compliments. It literally took sweat, tears, and sitting with a sickle over my head to get here (mind you, its only like 5 pounds..hehe).
Don't worry about me, I don't want to go back there to lose another 5 pounds. Because, if there's one thing me and my slim face know, is that when it comes to weight and issues...it's a slippery slope my friend.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Tumbling down...
In the middle of my illness,on Friday, I thought I'd give my fingers a little exercise and text Afroman. Oh, I'm visiting Alfred for the weekend. Great. When are you leaving? 1:45pm. It was 12:30. "Thanks for telling me," I thought...and then I felt guilty. because I felt as though he didn't owe me an explanation. But..we are lovers? We are friends? Aren't there some ties? Later on-ThurSDAY- still in the thick of my sickness....I still hadn't really spoken to Afroman. I kinda left it alone because when him and upstate are involved, its a lot.
He's in Buffalo.
With her.
He has a job.
He's staying a while.
All so fuckin perfect and tragic, and strangely foreseen...hmm....(i was going to linksome old entries about AM but when I reread some of the things I wrote, I just felt sad...so...)
But, wow...we're back here again.
He's in Buffalo.
With her.
He has a job.
He's staying a while.
All so fuckin perfect and tragic, and strangely foreseen...hmm....(i was going to linksome old entries about AM but when I reread some of the things I wrote, I just felt sad...so...)
But, wow...we're back here again.
Because I'm Awesome
Today, I am styling and profiling. Got my tunes turned up, my walk turned up, and I am the shhhhhhit. I can finally breathe through my nose and smell things. Wonderful.
I boogie down the street with my bagel and stylish purse in my hands and eeeek! My fly has fallen all the way down giving you a clear view of my purple panties. They kinda match but still..I don't know how long its been down for. Is that why the guys on the train were looking at me? I thought it was because I'm pretty. Is that why the bagel lady gave me a funny look? I work on the same street as Echo and those guys are always outside! Did they see me exposed!!
Stuff like that always happens to me. When I think I'm the shit, I always come out looking like el loseur.
I boogie down the street with my bagel and stylish purse in my hands and eeeek! My fly has fallen all the way down giving you a clear view of my purple panties. They kinda match but still..I don't know how long its been down for. Is that why the guys on the train were looking at me? I thought it was because I'm pretty. Is that why the bagel lady gave me a funny look? I work on the same street as Echo and those guys are always outside! Did they see me exposed!!
Stuff like that always happens to me. When I think I'm the shit, I always come out looking like el loseur.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
I shouldn't have left you....
I've spent this entire time in the bed, sweating my ass off, sick as a dog. Even now, I'm up and about because I have to be. This is a test run for misery tomorrow. I've already missed an entire week of work, I can't afford to miss another. That would truly be the death of me.
Best Friend's mother is crazy and totally trippin. Kicked her out the house. So, she's staying with me. I LIKE having her here. I guess I was lonely by myself. She's as neat as I am, which is neatness in spurts. She's been so awesome being at my beck and call. Allowing me to sleep when I need it. She's great.
Life still totally sucks.
Best Friend's mother is crazy and totally trippin. Kicked her out the house. So, she's staying with me. I LIKE having her here. I guess I was lonely by myself. She's as neat as I am, which is neatness in spurts. She's been so awesome being at my beck and call. Allowing me to sleep when I need it. She's great.
Life still totally sucks.
Friday, September 7, 2007
*treat*
Since I'm all gloom and doom and whiny - I'm sick. I'm dying. Help me! Here's an unpublished blog entry from August 24th, plucked right from the sidekick draft box.
Title: and then I went out.
Friday was a big big mess. So, Friday nite...I inteneded to let my hair down and hang with some of my good gay buddies. I was supposed to be in Newark by 11:30. 11:30 turned into 12:26 in the blink of an eye. *side note: I've been having the darndest time getting anywhere when I say I will. I have no idea why. I used to be a stickler for time. But...my friend was ok with it. Things worked out kinda perfectly. So....we meet up and we get to our friend's gathering and we don't know his apartment number. We called everyone we knew. We rode the elevators to different floors and everyone we called didn't have it, wasn't picking up or didn't have service. Finally we ask the security guard in the building. She said well there was a noise complaint in apartment 2202. I went up and told the guy but he slammed the door in my face.
What did he look like? He had heavy eyebrows.
Bingo!
We laughed and laughed and laughed about the eyebrow thing the whole night bc its so true. Oh! The gays.
Title: and then I went out.
Friday was a big big mess. So, Friday nite...I inteneded to let my hair down and hang with some of my good gay buddies. I was supposed to be in Newark by 11:30. 11:30 turned into 12:26 in the blink of an eye. *side note: I've been having the darndest time getting anywhere when I say I will. I have no idea why. I used to be a stickler for time. But...my friend was ok with it. Things worked out kinda perfectly. So....we meet up and we get to our friend's gathering and we don't know his apartment number. We called everyone we knew. We rode the elevators to different floors and everyone we called didn't have it, wasn't picking up or didn't have service. Finally we ask the security guard in the building. She said well there was a noise complaint in apartment 2202. I went up and told the guy but he slammed the door in my face.
What did he look like? He had heavy eyebrows.
Bingo!
We laughed and laughed and laughed about the eyebrow thing the whole night bc its so true. Oh! The gays.
We finally get there and there r boys with balloons as breasts. Dancing around doing a show. Hi-la-ri-ous.
The crowd started thinning out at around 3. I got to have some get-to-know ya one on one with the main gays of the house.. They are absolutely lovely and funny. And I realized that I get shy and introspective when around new people. But, I adore them.
We left at 4ish. Drove around the village around 5. Omg! 5 o'clock in
the morning you would think it was 5 in the afternoon. Girls. Girls. Girls. Galore.
*Of course you know when I say girls I mean gay men and transexuals.
Surprisingly, I did not see any lesbians. They probably knew that its not a decent time for a lady to be out
I got home at 6:30. Conked out by 7am.
Great nite had by all.
Deathbed
I believe I almost died last night. It was just after 12. I'd felt great
all day with the exception of my throat hurting....but that was all
good. I felt a dark presence in my room as I lay there. I was thirsty, so I got up to get juice and I could barely walk 10 feet from my bedroom to the kitchen.
all day with the exception of my throat hurting....but that was all
good. I felt a dark presence in my room as I lay there. I was thirsty, so I got up to get juice and I could barely walk 10 feet from my bedroom to the kitchen.
I thought hot tea would be better. So I got everything ready to realize I used a dirty spoon to stir it with and had food particles swimming in it. Great.
I turned to lay down and I blanked out for a second. My head felt like it was made of lead and I almost passed out. I've never ever been sick like that ever.I started crying hysterically. I called BestFriend but her phone was going straight to voicemail.
I was messaging Twin and he called me down. He said I had to take a hot hot hot bath. Drink some tea. Calm myself down. Relax. Meditate. It took me everything to just calm down and do what he said.
My bathtub is the most uncomfortable thing ever. I can't lay down in it with my arms at my side. It was hard to maneuver but I did it. I felt calm. The replenished fluids and the meditation helped a lot. I realized a lot of my unhappiness stems from work.
not being able to have your ends meet can do that to a person.
I still felt like death was hanging over me.I didn't sleep until my eyes felt heavy and I couldn't help it.
I kept waking up every hour literally on the hour for a drink of water. When you're sick and your mouth is open. Your throat gets dry. I had a pitcher of water and a glass by my bed.
On my way to work today....I wanted to cry. I HAVE to work today. Its payday. Bills are right on the cusp of being cut off and I don't think I have time to wait for my paycheck to clear my bank. I called out yesterday and at my job...they don't take too kindly to people calling out a lot.
Charlie Brown...this is your life.
**Addendum**
I was at work for 15 minutes when my boss told me to go home. When I went to give her a hug...she ran from me. Guess I really DO look like death.BestFriend is here armed with VapoRub, Airborne, and other stuff to get me well....
I miss my A/C....
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Get Slim Quick Trip
Have the flu.
Sweat while being cold for 3 days. Don't eat more that broth and noodles.
On the 4th day, think..hey I can eat. Have some rice and chicken and let it come out 10 mins later.
Repeat.
Sweat while being cold for 3 days. Don't eat more that broth and noodles.
On the 4th day, think..hey I can eat. Have some rice and chicken and let it come out 10 mins later.
Repeat.
Shout-Out!
I'd like to take this time to shout-out E
.
Thank you for actually commenting, letting a sista know you're reading.
For those who want to get familiar with Ms. E. These are some of my favorite entries.
They range from:
the ridiculousness that is T-Pain (my sentiments exactly)
doubts on life and brokeosity
heartbreaking news
short,
sweet,,
funny
And a post that makes me want to
sharpen my knives
and if you like these, check out her stories here
So, Cheers to you E!
.
Thank you for actually commenting, letting a sista know you're reading.
For those who want to get familiar with Ms. E. These are some of my favorite entries.
They range from:
the ridiculousness that is T-Pain (my sentiments exactly)
doubts on life and brokeosity
heartbreaking news
short,
sweet,,
funny
And a post that makes me want to
sharpen my knives
and if you like these, check out her stories here
So, Cheers to you E!
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Don't hate me!/labor day dalliances
I did a bad thing. I felt the edge of sickness coming on Sunday and was irritated when I went home to find that Gypsy had sprayed shit in the bathtub again. She's not sick. She just doesn't like her litter box. She was meow-ing over and over and over. When I went to pick her up, she ran away from me...yet she was laying next to my ear meowing.
So...I snapped. I threw her out the window. (Don't freak. It was into the backyard which is grassy and soft. She landed on all 4s and ran away) It felt strange. The house was quiet. Yet, I felt like I whacked off a member of the family all-Sopranos like. I felt guilty. I felt relieved. I still feel these things.
Don't hate me. There's the truth. Hopefully, I'm set free by it.(But I'm still telling my friends I gave her away...shhhh)
I spent my Labor Day sick in the bed, telling myself I was paralyzed and can only get up for bathroom emergencies.
Bedpans made so much sense.
I wrote 11 pages of my story. I like how its shaping up.
Nothing major happened.
So...I snapped. I threw her out the window. (Don't freak. It was into the backyard which is grassy and soft. She landed on all 4s and ran away) It felt strange. The house was quiet. Yet, I felt like I whacked off a member of the family all-Sopranos like. I felt guilty. I felt relieved. I still feel these things.
Don't hate me. There's the truth. Hopefully, I'm set free by it.(But I'm still telling my friends I gave her away...shhhh)
I spent my Labor Day sick in the bed, telling myself I was paralyzed and can only get up for bathroom emergencies.
Bedpans made so much sense.
I wrote 11 pages of my story. I like how its shaping up.
Nothing major happened.
Yesterday, the stepmother took pity on me and made me some chicken noodle soup. It was piping hot when I tripped up the stairs causing it to fall down the front of me *very sitcom-like*, burning my foot, parts of my leg, and my cheek. (You think it was cat karma)
She was actually gracious about it (:oO) made me another pot which made it safely upstairs. On my way to pick it up, the cat was there. Standing outside my door, meow-ing her head off. My mom was like.."wow she must smell your cat on you" I said, yea...she said, isn't that your cat. I said no. Its a stray. Closed the door behind us. By the time I got the soup and came back out, she was gone. I don't have anything of hers. I threw everything out. But, for a split second, I thought about it.I ate little soup, drank a little Nyquil and called it a day. There was silence. There wasn't a little squeaky toy ball, or running around, or incessant meowing for no reason. Just the sound of my heavy breathing.
Say what you want about me....that is priceless.
Monday, September 3, 2007
Some days...
I feel so lonely. Some days I need a hug. Today is one of those days. I can't drive away the loneliness. Today I really need that hug.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
1,000 hits!
You like me! You really like me! OOOOOr you're really bored. Thank you dear readers. I have 1,000 hits today and I'm totally stoked.
So...besides Delusions of Grandeur and Jenny . Who are you? Who's reading? I'm soooo interested in who you are! I'll add you to my blogroll and be all in your life.
***kisses*****
So...besides Delusions of Grandeur and Jenny . Who are you? Who's reading? I'm soooo interested in who you are! I'll add you to my blogroll and be all in your life.
***kisses*****
Holy Shit!
Stepmother called me this morning as I was leaving at 5am telling me she would take me to the train station. Seems as if neighborhood gangs are waiting for young women, raping and killing them to gain initiation. WTF?
I've already been robbed twice. Once, I think it was for gang intiation. They all had on matching clothes and I remember they're faces. With this shit...I may have to move.
Just when you thought the neighborhood was being gentrified.
I've already been robbed twice. Once, I think it was for gang intiation. They all had on matching clothes and I remember they're faces. With this shit...I may have to move.
Just when you thought the neighborhood was being gentrified.
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