Counterfeit Paradise

A New Dawn, A New Day

2011-06-23T11:15:00.000-07:00

It's been a long time, I know. Two years and eight months to be exact. I've been busy living and learning and loving life.

Because my life has changed, so has my writing. I'm happier in my work, I'm happy in love, I'm happier in me. I'm getting along with the familial unit and I've shed some dead-weight friendships.

Back in '09 and '08, my writing was decidedly down and out. I also didn't use caps at all--annoying, I know. I was sad and unhappy about so much. But I'm excited to enter this lighter phase of my life and I'm happy to share this newness.

I'm a GA girl who has called Harlem, NYC home for the past 8 years. I need to lose 50 pounds, figure out what to do with my natural hair and move on up at work. I also need to remember how to be in a relationship and quit smoking. I'm also writing a book.

Some things about my old blog will remain the same. I'll talk about music, relationships and provide general, unwarranted advice and observations. I'll share some short story excerpts and ask for feedback if you got it.

tardy...

2009-11-04T08:31:00.000-08:00

This morning she would not be late.

He had not come to her at 2am and made love to her until 4, causing her to ignore her alarm and hit the snooze button every 7 minutes. She could not bear, at 6:37am, to leave the warmth emanating from the left side of the bed; his arms wrapped around her bigness, his sighs and moans every time she repositioned herself.

She was late for work when he slept over because she made them both cups of coffee and they smoked cigarettes as they commented on the first run of the day’s news. They spoke of their early morning lovemaking and even if time did not permit, they would make love again. He complimented her naked body as she moved thoughtfully about the bedroom, the clock on the nightstand reaffirming what she knew full well: she would be late again today.

She took much care dressing herself, she wanted him to admire her tops and scarves. She went to great pains in applying her makeup flawlessly They often left the apartment together when she technically should have been at work and though she nearly ran from the subway to her office, she regretted not one bit the mornings they spent.

This morning she would not be late.

whatchu know good?

2009-10-28T11:12:00.000-07:00

when i was little, on what seemed to be daily visits to my grandma's house, my grandma would always ask me "whatchu know good?" i'd always respond, "nothing."

she'd say, "you don't know nothing good?" and i'd stick with my answer, "no." she'd laugh and glance off into the distance and mumble something about young folk, life and gettin' old one day.

my grandma was old and blind, and smelled like ben-gay. i was young and a little deaf and didn't really like going to her house much. i felt i couldn't relate to her and more importantly was quite annoyed by her daily question, "whatchu know good?"

now, a few weeks after my 28th birthday and a few days after the passing of a close friend, i'm absolutely positive i've got an answer for "whatchu know good?"

i know that my creator is great and that my life is magnificently ordered.

i know that friends and family are as important as success and fortune.

i know that injustice exists all over the world and we must all do our part, however small, in our own lives to end it.

i know that youth and beauty fade but age and experience don't.

there's always good news to tell. whether or not we choose to tell it is another story.

i painted my nails yellow yesterday to bring myself a little bit of sunshine during this gray and gloomy weather in nyc. i hope that you find ways to constantly remind yourself of the good in your life and find ways to inject a bit of sunshine in your gloomy days.

back for seconds...

2009-10-26T11:52:00.000-07:00

i hung out with an ex/current lover last night. we met at a bar and got drunk, had some dinner and went back to his place.

he proceeded to fuck the life out of me for the rest of the night. he seemed like he was on a mission to make me remember why i was so into him. (he also made me remember why it's so hard for me to get over him.)

notes for new post: dick as a deadly weapon.

today, not even six hours after our last romp, i wanted more. i reached out to him and we had the following exchange:

me: dinner later? i'm feignin for some chicken and ribs!!!!

him: wilding lol. maybe. let me see how the day goes sweet. you never get enough, do you? you always want to come back for seconds.

me: you know i can never get enough. plus i don't think i properly repaid your kindness last night.

him: i think you did repay and you have to learn to be more satisfied sometimes. makes it more exciting. :)

he's right. i always come back for seconds.

i unapologetically overindulge in every aspect of my life. food, sex, drugs, money, you name it. i say, "go hard or go home." i also spend a lot of time at the gym (keeping the weight in check), at the obgyn (keeping the coochie in check), my second job (keeping a second check), and 12-step meetings (keeping the party girl in check).

i've taken a bit of pride in being this girl who constantly pushes the limit.

but what's to be said about a girl who is never satisfied? who always wants more? who can't get enough?

crash and burn.

blame it on the alcohol or whatever...

2009-10-19T07:19:00.000-07:00

my last post was pretay wack. it ended abrubtly and even had some facts wrong. my right ear is the one that pretty much sucks, not my left. how could i screw that up?

i think i was just writing to write that day. nothing wrong with that.

p.s. great sex was had last night. yum. yum.

i hear you...

2009-10-15T09:24:00.000-07:00

there's a gym right next to the building i work in.

the two buildings share an elevator that the gym staff uses to transport dirty towels, big bulky items and the like.

today i was standing out front having a cigarette and out of the corner of my eye i see one of the gym employees trying to maneuver a big bulky cart of towels toward the door.

i immediately stepped to the side so he'd have easier access to the handicap ramp. he mumbles what seems to be hello and i say hello back. then he took his index finger and made a circle around his face and smiled. i said thank you and he disappeared inside the building.

this man is deaf. i figured it out a few months ago when i casually said good morning to him on the elevator and he said nothing back. at first i thought, "what an ass!" the next time i saw him i put on my ice grill and prepared myself to ignore him. (it is very true that it takes way more work to go out of your way to be a bitch than to not be a bitch.)

he mumbled hello and i immediately understood he was deaf. we smiled and i put my head down, uncomfortable, and fidgeted with my phone.

we've seen each other several times since then and we always smile, say hello, acknowledging the others humanity.

i have a fear of going deaf. my ears have been a problem for me since childhood. constant ear infections destroyed my inner ear. i have two brand new eardrums to show for the trauma.

my hearing in my right ear is a little better than in the left. i don't use my left ear much. i don't have phone conversations using my left ear. sometimes i tilt my head to the right to hear a little better during conversations. the tv volume is sometimes high and i'm subconscious about that when i'm not watching tv alone. i listen to music very loudly in my apartment and in the car.

i only tell my lovers about this 'handicap' when we've known each other for quite sometime and i'm comfortable enough sharing a weakness. the conversation usually begins with me asking, "can you hear the tv?"

"yeah, it's fine."

"do you mind if i turn it up a bit?"

"not at all."

"i'm a little deaf sometimes."

then i explain.

28 days later...

2009-10-13T10:58:00.000-07:00

i'm 28 now.

i'm not bummed about being a year closer to thirty.

28 is sexy.

uncle bruh

2009-10-09T09:54:00.000-07:00

i saw a man a while back that reminded me of my long, lanky uncle, uncle bruh (negro for brother).

when i was little we would see uncle bruh softly mumbling to himself while walking along the shoulder of a semi-busy highway headed to hardee's for the senior citizen coffee special. 15 cents a cup.

his arms would move back and forth at his side with each calculated stride. his salt and pepper hair most times needed to be cut but it was always combed. his shirt was always tucked neatly into his pants and his shoes were old but in okay condition.

uncle bruh had an impeccable memory and though he often forgot to brush his few remaining teeth he always remembered birthdays, anniversaries, graduations and divorce dates.

sometimes when i was younger he would kiss me on the mouth smelling of cigarettes and something else. it wasn't until i was a woman that i realized the smell was tobacco smoke and sex.

i was visiting my hometown recently and headed to my aunt's 69th birthday party. my sister and little niece came along for the ride. we saw uncle bruh walking along a semi-busy highway headed to mcdonald's for the senior citizen coffee special. 50 cents a cup.

"is that uncle bruh?" i asked my sister.

"yeah, that's him."

"should we stop?"

silence.

"let's stop," i said and swerved into a gas station parking lot.

i jumped out the car and loudly identified myself, "uncle bruh, this crystal!"

he strode up to the car and looked at me up and down and said, "ah, crissy. how you doin, girl?"

"i'm good, uncle bruh. how you doin'?"

"i'm doin tolerably well, tolerably well."

uncle bruh looked over at the car and saw balloons floating in the backseat.

"glossine's having a birthday party," i offered, "you wanna come?"

"i got to get to church later but you tell everybody i said 'hey'."

"you want a ride?"

"well," he paused.

uncle bruh didn't usually take rides from family members because he preferred to walk. uncle bruh was a notorious walker. he'd walk miles and miles each day, to church, for cigarettes, for coffee, for nothing. summer, winter, wet, dry, he walked. it seemed he'd gotten walking down to a science. his gait was perfectly suited for his size (he was tall. my height. six feet. skinny. skinnier now that he was old.) and the distance he wanted to cover in a day.

today he accepted the offer.

i drove him to the home he shared with several older men who'd served in vietnam and maybe had schizophrenia like him. a nurse who lived on site made sure the men took their medications and got to doctor's appointments and cooked for the men and cleaned the home as well.

on the ride there he pointed his umbrella at the gps unit attached to the window, "what's that?"

"it's a gps. you can enter in addresses and it tells you how to get there."

"it talks?" he asked.

"yeah, it talks."

"well, then." he sat back in the seat.

but then:

"you lived here all your life and don't know how to get around, girl?"

"sometimes it helps to have someone tell you where to go even if you think you know where you goin'," i offered.

even i didn't believe that. uncle bruh didn't say a word.

we arrived at his home and before he got out i shoved some 'cigarette money' in hand. 10 bucks. uncle bruh smoked like a chimney. so did i.

he hugged me and told me it was good to see me. i said the same.

i watched him from the car as he sat on the porch with three other men and pointed to the car. the men all turned in my direction and as i cranked the car and pulled out of the driveway i could see him telling my story about how i moved up north in 2003 and hadn't gotten married yet and needed a machine to show me the way home.

four girls

2009-10-02T13:19:00.001-07:00

you knew they were on their way somewhere. the accessories and skirts and cautiously applied makeup let you know. and they sat together closely, leaning in to get in on the conversation and uh huh-ing and yeah-ing only when appropriate.

and then the game began, the asking of questions between girls. the game being not answering but firing out another question in response to the first question. the loser is the girl who is caught off guard by a question-"why did you kiss stephen?"-and answers-"i don't know."

they play from brooklyn to manhattan and their conversation though sometimes idle kept the attention of the other riders. they spoke of hip-hop and college, michael's death and boys.

i watched these girls and thought of my teenage years and how irresistibly hungry i was to experience the world. to apply makeup and fancy skirts and flats to prepare to go somewhere--anywhere.

these girls make me proud. they are the antithesis of the loud, cursing wanna-be-seen teens that will, by any means necessary, have their humanity acknowledged by onlookers. cursing, laughing, hogging seats, calling each other nigga, boasting of sexual conquests--real and imagined--yearning to no longer be invisible.

heartbreak

2009-10-01T11:25:00.001-07:00

and now she knew what it felt like. this numb feeling washed over her when he left her. but how could he leave her when he wasn't ever really there to begin with?

her girlfriends consoled and counseled her, told her, "it's not you, it's him." she didn't think anything was wrong with her at all. maybe she overreacted a few times, called him some names, just simply blew up, but that was just her. he knew what he was getting into.

she didn't feel betrayed or angry or vindictive, her heart was broken and it hurt like hell.

she joined the gym and bought new makeup and tried new nailpolish. she cut and colored her hair and paid too much for a pair of boots. she smiled more in public and touched men's arms when she spoke to them. she felt pretty and it showed.

at night when she crawled into her too big bed and curled up and closed her eyes, she longed to feel his leanness behind her. his huge hand cupping her left breast. his face nuzzled at her neck. his dick most often erect. his legs pushing hers apart. this would be the thing she missed most.

she noticed men more and how many there actually were in the world. short, tall, big, small, bald, not, handsome, not. she could feel her need for sex oozing from her pores. the men could smell it.

me likey...

2009-08-28T13:31:00.001-07:00

i'm thinking about myself and my life and the people that are constantly rotating in and out of it, these people make my life pretty damn interesting.

po lice

2009-08-20T08:43:00.000-07:00

it seemed to her that she felt least safe now. there she sat in a subway car in new york city with seven policeman crowded around her and she felt like something was very wrong. she felt not this unsafe moments ago when a man too familiarly approached her and she hastily brushed him off.

maybe she'd been watching too many episodes of 'the wire'. maybe she'd romanticized police work. but the policeman standing in front of her huddled in their little police circle, one of whom whose calf kept brushing the hem of her dress, did not look physically capable of climbing a flight of stairs. their conversation made them appear mentally incapable of solving a crossword puzzle--no need to think about solving a crime.

vomit

2009-08-18T07:36:00.000-07:00

for 20 years her father had been a maintenance man who'd cleaned the vomit of drunk 20-somethings-going-home-to-fuck-and-not-call-again off subway stairs. because of this she was always conscious of and thankful for well-kept (as well-kept as new york city mass transit can be) subway stations. to most new yorkers the subway itself was a cesspool of bacteria and germs from babies, the homeless and folks that just didn't give a fuck about releasing bodily fluids wherever they stood, sat, or leaned. to her the overpowering smell of bleach that often seized the subway car she rode in let her know that at least they were being cleaned.

she didn't know why but she felt safe around people that cleaned things for a living. a certain amount of pride had to be had in order to clean something--to clean up after people. even if a piss poor job was done the effort had been made to make the dirty clean.

her father--though he cleaned for a living--was a slob at home. she always felt he was bucking the system. giving a ginormous middle finger to the system that made it so a moderately intelligent and hardworking man whose parents didn't quite have enough to send him to college made a living cleaning vomit from subway stairs.

breathing again...

2009-07-29T09:16:00.000-07:00

i've been running away from home lately in an attempt to get some breathing room to just be. i'm feeling really inspired and creative lately as a result and i just want to write.

this blog, for a while at least, will be a space where i can share short stories. i've got a few ideas for books of short stories and i'd like to try out some ideas here.

of course there will be my usual rants and raves about sex, relationships, and political and pop culture fuckery but i'm going to try to dedicate the next month or so to writing fiction.

by the end of this month i'd like to have a few strong pieces to build on.

it's time to start taking my dreams somewhere.

love and light,
crystal

eminem's relapse

2009-05-20T10:49:00.001-07:00

"i can't admit or come to grips/ with the fact that i may be done with rap/i need a new outlet" --eminem, relapse, 'beautiful'

'beautiful' is the only track on relapse that eminem produced himself. i use this track to talk about the entire album because it's the only track on the album dre didn't touch. lyrically and production-wise, it's all eminem. (btw, he sampled rock therapy's 'reaching out') on 'beautiful', he admits his frustration with the fact that he might not be so suited for the rap thing anymore. he also urges us to "walk a mile in his shoes" while reminding us that he'll be "one tough act to follow". what a way to bow out. therefore i don't think we'll be hearing much from em after this. he didn't do this album to prove anything to the rest of us or even himself. relapse is em's epilogue.

unfortunately, this album won't be a critical success. the subject matter is dated, his flow isn't as groundbreaking as it was a few years back and the whole white-boy-rapping phenomenon no longer exists. plus, let's face it, in these tough economic times the last thing folk wanna hear is somebody talking about killing folks and drinking their bathwater. when shit gets bad people wanna dance and forget. we want to listen to music that doesn't remind us that rent is due. thus the recent pervasiveness of pop music in hip hop.

UPDATE: 2.5 years later I find I was completely wrong about this album. It did well and Em continues to sell more records than ever.

good day, sunshine...

2009-05-08T07:10:00.001-07:00

funny how a good workout and a sunny friday can change a girl's mood.

sweetest taboo...

2009-05-07T12:24:00.001-07:00

and so i find myself in this weird phase again. one that's not uncommon, not new to me, i am quite familiar with this side of me.

funny though, i thought i'd moved past it. i thought i'd matured and grown and had become a better, stronger woman. but au contraire, i seem to mirror the young woman i was in college; that destructive, impulsive, compulsive girl who shoved down any and everything in an attempt to drown out her conscience.

what's funny is that i'm not as equipped to deal with these feelings as i was when i was younger. i had a mean defense mechanism in place back then. an arsenal of excuses, lies, delusions and good dose of plain ol' not-givin'-a-fuck.

i'd actually thought i'd be better able to wade through this phase again now because i've aged and have become (supposedly) wiser. though i have aged (that black and white photo taken of me when i was 23 seems to be more and more reflective of a distant time) it seems the wise part of me hasn't quite caught up.

i take that back.

i'm super equipped to deal with this phase right now because i can think about it analytically. i can dissect my feelings and actions and come up with a pretty accurate portrait of where the fuck i am in my life right now. i know the how's and why's; it's not just me speeding down a dark, lonely highway anymore feeling incredibly lost but still dangerously propelling myself forward.

and on that note i give you sade.

Stop, Look, Listen to Your Heart - The Stylistics 1971

2009-04-06T07:07:00.001-07:00

we are family...

2009-03-18T08:23:00.000-07:00

i've been toying with the idea of doing a documentary on my family for a while now. with my mom and aunts getting older, i'd like to get as much oral history documented as i can. we've got a pretty interesting story. my blind grandmother raised 7 children who went on to become professors, bipolar teachers, trumpet playing junkies, angel seeing nurses, non-aging schizophrenics and awol vietnam vets. we're a family that holds onto secrets. i want to explore those secrets and the impact they have on all of our lives right down to the life-changing decisions we make.

i'm adopted so i don't think i inherited any of those crazy genes.

who the fuck am i kidding, i'm a certified product of my environment. HA!

i'm planning a trip home in may maybe i'll start shooting some stuff then. i'll keep you posted.

oh and today's my mommy's birthday.

i guess it'll all just have to be...

2009-03-17T12:09:00.001-07:00

Nina Simone - I Can't see nobody (Daniel Y Remix)

another song from the Remixed and Reimagined CD. The video contains fragments from massive attack's "live with me". enjoy.

you're driving me clean outta my mind...

2009-03-17T12:03:00.001-07:00

i referenced this album in a previous post. here's a favorite track of mine. nina and i have this insane love affair thanks to a cousin who introduced us when i was 12. my cousin had me deconstruct simone's 'see line woman,' a song about a prostitute who works on docks servicing the needs of sailors. i did deconstruct the song, quite well i might add. enjoy.

Nina Simone - Save Me (Coldcut Remix)

and i will give up this fight....

2009-03-17T08:36:00.001-07:00

I Can't Make You Love Me By Bonnie Raitt

so i'm sitting here listening to prince's "i can't make you love me" (bonnie rait's version is dope, too) and i can't help but think we've all been there before. you're feelin someone really, really hard and in your heart of hearts you know that they don't and won't ever feel the same way about you.

sometimes you keep hanging on, hoping. replaying and analyzing every gesture, every turn of phrase, all to no avail. the reality is, "he/she is just not that into you."

i'll never forget when i knew it was over between me and my ex, i mean really over. i knew that the depth of feeling i had for him he no longer had for me. i was in paris visiting him (his 3500-mile relocation should've been indication enough of his intentions but you know what love does to judgment and common sense). it was my last day there and we'd spent most of it out and about. we tumbled back home laughing and heady and hungry. he made dinner and i purposely drank too much wine in hopes of avoiding the inevitable pain that i'd felt whenever i thought about leaving him the next morning. i smoked a bangin ass spliff and got really, really high and told him he was the love of my life thus far.

we had incredible sex that night and as i rode him in perceivable desperation and he said to me the most beautiful things i'd never heard him say, it hit me. like a mac truck ramming into a deer on 1-20 right around Sparta, GA, i realized that this was the end. we were no longer. our bonnie and clyde routine was done, no more riding and dying for one another, no more of our inside jokes and conversations had with our eyes across smoky, crowded rooms. we'd never do paris or augusta or atlanta again. he'd never hold my hand in a crowd of folks i felt so insecure around because they had money or status and created things i knew i never would. he would never again make me feel beautiful and smart and wanted regardless of the company we were in. (i was young then and he was a bit older; i hadn't matured into the woman i am today and had a few issues that needed dealing with.)

as i packed the next morning and had breakfast our conversation was the same as it had been for approximately 700 mornings prior but i knew that this indeed was the end of things. i never let on to him that i knew and though it took 6 months for him to officially break it off, i'd seen it coming since that night.

i didn't hang on and plead and try to 'make it work'. people grow apart and folks change, i got that back then, even in my youthful naivete. i guess in a true sign of maturity, i gave up the fight. i probably should relearn that lesson now.

my new crush...

2009-03-12T13:09:00.001-07:00

Drake - HoustAtlantaVegas (So Far Gone)(Lyrics)

google him. yum.

i was just playin, unless you gon do it...

2009-03-12T13:02:00.000-07:00

my last post was all this talk about leaving new york and being fed up with NYC.

blame it on the Sa, sa, SAD...

i self-diagnosed myself with SAD (seasonal affectation disorder) some time back and i think my last post was cause of that SAD shit...

the weather was crappy back then. it was frigid and snowing and cloudy all the damn time. i wasn't fed up with NYC, i was fed up with the weather.

since daylight savings kicked in and last weekend it hit 60+, i'm cool with NYC again.

i love this city and everything in it, especially in spring and summer. i even love the dirty ass sidewalks and the way the street stinks from hot, rotten garbage. me and NYC won't be parting anytime soon.

UNLESS

the creator sees it fit for me to bounce, i'm in this piece to win it...

have an awesome day.

take, take me home...

2009-02-26T11:56:00.001-08:00

take, take me home...
i think i'm finally ready to leave ny. i've been toying with the idea for a few years but i really wasn't ready. i used to have this love/hate relationship with the city and even in all its dirt and grime, cold and snow and shady public transportation, there's was always something that kept pulling me back.

no more of that.

i went home this weekend and though the weather was amazing and i had the best time ever (i even got a teeny tiny tan!), i didn't get that butterfly feeling when i saw the city unfold from the airplane window. usually on my return trips i bubble over with excitement when i hear the pilot tell us were 100 miles away from laguardia. i feel an amazing sense of pride at knowing that i live in a city that has been the backdrop for so many films and great pieces of literature and a whole lotta folks' dreams. i get overwhelmed by the fact that i've made it in ny and therefore i should be able to make it anywhere. on this return trip, however, it saddened me to see an endless sea of steel and concrete. all i really wanted was fresh air and beaches, blue skies and water.

don't say goodnight...

2009-02-19T21:50:00.000-08:00

keep in mind it's almost one am. i haven't been able to sleep lately. i've got a couple things to note. i'm sending this from my phone cause i'm lazy. this will be a scattered post but bear (or is it bare? i'm the english major, i should know. i don't. sue me.)

today on the way home from work the train just stopped. the conductor made her usual announcement about red signals and moving shortly and folks grumbled a bit. i was two stops from home so i wasn't mad. some crazy guy kept going in between the cars to piss. i was so annoyed by that. you can't wait till you get home? just cause your plumbing is fitted on the outside does not mean you need to take full advantage of the world around you and use it as your toilet. gross. i digress.

the train stops and for a minute or so it was completely silent. that was the most beautiful minute i'd been a part of in quite some time (sex included). imagine the awe of a huge machine suddenly going quiet. no ac running, no brakes, nothing. i think the other six people in the car with me, including the public pisser, felt the same way i did cause nobody said shit for a while. it was magical if you ask me. when in new york city is it ever silent?

a little sleepy now. completely forgot the other stuff i wanted to write about. it probably wasn't that important anyway. night.

i recommend...

2009-02-19T11:07:00.000-08:00

Nina Simone: Remixed and Reimagined

Tracks 1, 2 and 4 are favorites of mine. Track 2 has a fun little ode to the southern sensibility toward the end.

1. I Can't See Nobody - Nina Simone, Gibb, B.
2. Funkier Than a Mosquito's Tweeter - Nina Simone, Bullock, A.
3. Ain't Got No - I Got Life - Nina Simone, Ragni, G.
4. Save Me - Nina Simone, Franklin, A.
5. Turn Me On - Nina Simone, Loudermilk, J.D.
6. Here Comes the Sun - Nina Simone, Harrison, G.
7. Westwind - Nina Simone, Salter, W.
8. Go to Hell - Nina Simone, Bailey, M. Jr.
9. My Man's Gone Now - Nina Simone, Gershwin, G.
10. The Look of Love - Nina Simone, Bacharach, B.
11. O-O-H Child - Nina Simone, Vincent, S.
12. To Love Somebody - Nina Simone, Gibb, B.
13. Obeah Woman - Nina Simone, McKay, T.

from chapter 18..

2009-02-11T13:15:00.000-08:00

at school her grades were stellar and her teachers beamed. meanwhile her home life seemed to liquefy and pool around her ankles.

me likey...

2009-02-11T12:13:00.001-08:00

i'm feeling really reflective lately. i'm thinking about myself and my life and the people that are constantly rotating in and out of it, these people make my life pretty darn interesting. i like this.

25 things...

2009-02-10T11:57:00.001-08:00

i'm not gonna post these on facebook. my boss is on facebook. i like to keep some shit to myself...

1. i hate people that spit in public. i hate to hear the buildup. i hate hearing the saliva as it lands on the pavement. swallow that shit and wait till you get home. use a napkin, a kerchief, something. i don't care how sick you are. gross me out the door.

2. sometimes when a subway car pulls into the station, i sing at the top of my lungs. i mean really belt one out. no one car hear you. really. all you nyc dwellers can attest to how loud the subways are.

3. i hate manipulators and i can spot them a mile away. be forewarned. interestingly enough i have so many of them in my life right now.

4. i used to not wear heels for fear of being taller than most men, ultimately intimidating them and dissuading potential suitors. this is no longer the case. if you"re shook cause i'm taller than you, you don't need to holler anyway. next.

5. i am afraid of failure of and even more afraid of success so most times i'm afraid to try.

6. i wish i lived closer to my two best friends. i miss them terribly.

7. i'm afraid to live closer to my family for fear of not being able to meet their expectations of me. i feel the further away i am from them, the less accountable i am to them.

8. i will try anything once. i mean it. anything.

9. i am shocked by nothing. friends come to me with stories of their wildest, grossest, most insane experiences and my first question is usually, "how was that?"

10. i have a compulsive personality. you either love this or hate this about me.

11. i am the biggest flake alive. i over-commit and then kick myself for not saying no to begin with. i hate to hurt folks' feelings or feel like i'm letting someone down but i end up doing this anyway when i flake so go figure.

12. i like for people to tell stories the right way. i'm always telling my friends to, "tell it like a story!" give me all the details. what'd you wear? what was the weather like? time of day? i also need lots of background to put a story in context. i'm a writer, what can i say?

13. sometimes when i'm feeling so insecur (i meant to do that) i find tiny flaws in people to make myself feel better. i'm talking insignificant shit like "her eyes are too far apart."

14. i detach from people very quickly and easily. once you're on my shitlist, it's over. i mean it. over.

15. i don't call folks out on every indiscretion. i file wrongdoing away in my mental rolodex. i might take a lot of crap from folks but when i'm done, i'm done. (see 14) i refer to said rolodex when the shit really hits the fan and you will wonder what the hell hit you. i bring up shit from 1996. i think this is called passive aggression.

16. lots of ladies in my peer group have children now. i don't. my marital/parental development is severely arrested. i'm an awesome auntie/cousin/godperson right now though.

17. i'm adopted. i'm not sad about it. it doesn't bother me. i've always known. i never remember not knowing. when i was little my mom told me that she picked me because i was the "most special one". i was then and i am now. my family rocks (in spite of all their insanity).

18. even people who know me well often tell me they feel like they don't know me at all. i put so much of myself out on display for the world to see that i trick folks into thinking they've got me figured out. what they don't know is that there's a whole nother crystal that very few folks know. when i think folks are getting too close to this other crystal, i push them away. i like it this way.

19. i accessorize well.

20. i'm a bitch in the winter. i think i suffer from SAD. i need warm weather and more than 7 hours of sunlight to be 'on'. i'm more productive and pleasant in the spring and summer.

21. i secretly want to run a mini-marathon. i never tell people cause i think they'll laugh in my face. lol i'm nowhere near physically ready to do it yet but i've been eyeing the treadmill at the gym and wondering how long i can run in the shape i'm in now. i think i've got a mini-marathon somewhere in me. wait on it.

22. i'm actually a little athletic. i never played official sports in high school but i'm pretty decent at tennis and volleyball. i'm quick (don't get it twisted) and let's face it, my body type is suited for girl sports (minus my *temporary* spot on team chunk).

23. in spite of my super giving nature i have a tendency to be selfish, self-centered, and self-absorbed. ask any of the men i've dated. contrary to popular belief, i'm working on this.

24. give me a good DJ, a little alcohol and some herbal essence and i will love you for life. last night a DJ saved my life.

25. i will be posting this list on my blog cause i can.

i will give up this fight...

2009-02-09T13:34:00.001-08:00

so i'm sitting here listening to prince's "i can't make you love me" (bonnie rait's version is dope, too) and i can't help but think we've all been there before. you're feelin someone really, really hard and in your heart of hearts you know that they don't and won't ever feel the same way about you.

sometimes you keep hanging on, hoping. replaying and analyzing every gesture, every turn of phrase, all to no avail. the reality is, "he/she is just not that into you."

i'll never forget when i knew it was over between me and my ex, i mean really over. i knew that the depth of feeling i had for him he no longer had for me. i was in paris visiting him (his 3500-mile relocation should've been indication enough of his intentions but you know what love does to judgment and common sense). it was my last day there and we'd spent most of it out and about. we tumbled back home laughing and heady and hungry. he made dinner and i purposely drank too much wine in hopes of avoiding the inevitable pain that i'd felt whenever i thought about leaving him the next morning. i smoked a bangin ass spliff and got really, really high and told him he was the love of my life thus far.

we had incredible sex that night and as i rode him in perceivable desperation and he said to me the most beautiful things i'd never heard him say, it hit me. like a mac truck ramming into a deer on 1-20 right around Sparta, GA, i realized that this was the end. we were to be no longer. we'd never do paris or augusta or atlanta again. he'd never hold my hand in a crowd of folks i felt so insecure around because they had money or status and created things i knew i never would. he would never again make me feel beautiful and smart and wanted regardless of the company we were in. (i was young then and he was a bit older; i hadn't matured into the woman i am today and had a few issues that needed dealing with.)

as i packed the next morning and had breakfast our conversation was the same as it had been for approximately 700 mornings prior but i knew that this indeed was the end of things. i never let on to him that i knew and though it took 6 months for him to officially break it off, i'd seen it coming since that night.

bite me...

2009-02-02T12:48:00.001-08:00

i like duffy and adele and amy (pre- and post-crack amy. the most interesting folks are those who have issues.). but let's face it, the music these women are creating isn't new. recycle the american 60s soul sound and put a white girl with a british accent on the mic and folks think they're oh so talented and original and artistic and creative. i don't buy it and i hope you don't either. BUT i will still give these women credit, they can sang. specially this adele girl, but more on that later. enjoy!!!

talk to me...

2009-01-30T08:30:00.000-08:00

my mom used to be pretty quiet. at family gatherings she'd fix her plate, find a spot at a table, in a corner or maybe even outside on somebody's patio and watch folks and the scene unfold. she'd ask a question if she wanted to know something (she's a little nosy. i get it from my mama.) she'd even interject if she had something spicy to add to the mix. sometimes there would even be a big blow up with lots of loud-talking and hand gesticulating (i get that from my mama, too) about some misconstrued fact or to verify some he say/she say shit. but all in all mom was pretty chill.

i picked up some of these same laid back habits from mom and during my formative years i, too, was pretty quiet and easy-going. my aunt would get me dressed for church at 3 or 4 years old and tell me to go sit in this green high-backed chair in the living room and wait till she got dressed. my hair would be pulled too tight and my face shiny with vaseline and my dress ironed just so. i'd watch her reflection in the hallway bathroom from my vantage point and be in awe. i loved to see her apply all her big lady makeup and perfume and put curls and sunshine in her hair. her necklaces and bracelets and earrings that she'd sometimes let me wear. i never moved from that seat for a closer look, as bad as i wanted to run over and plop myself on the floor in the bathroom and watch her. i never made a sound even though i wanted to scream out to her YOU LOOK SO PRETTY! i'd just sit there in that green chair and watch her. i'd be so quiet my aunt would call out to me 'just to make sure you still alive' and i'd simply answer, "yes." (we weren't made to say yes, ma'am and no, ma'am or yes, sir or no, sir. i was taught that you could be respectful without such formality. plus, part of me thinks that because i grew up in the south with a very conscious, pro-black family, the idea of one of their babies saying sir or ma'am to some white woman or man was simply unacceptable.)

in elementary school it was pretty much the same thing. i stayed quiet, did my work and didn't bother nobody. i was a pretty smart kid, i liked to read and because i was an only child (my sister hadn't arrived yet) i was used to spending lots of time, well, being quiet. my mom worked a lot and so she slept a lot and i was left to my own devices. i became quite good at writing stories and reading them to myself. silently. i almost felt like it was bad thing to be loud and to be seen. part of me looks back and wonders if i didn't feel 'special' enough to be seen and valued, alas, i digress.

in my early teens i went to live with my take-me-to-church aunt and she was as social as they come. our car would be one of the last to leave the church parking lot 'cause she'd be busy chatting with everybody. because my aunt was so chatty and looking back probably a bit nosy, too (i get it from my auntie, too.) everyday she'd ask about my day, my friends, my life and i'd be compelled to talk. i'd never had someone be so interested in ME before, i liked it. she remembered my friends' names and where they lived and inquire as to why such and such boy didn't call as much anymore. once the floodgates opened, it was over. i started to get chastised in high school for talking too much in class, i got to be known as a little loud, in high school i was voted most likely to enter with a smile. i was way different from that little girl that dared not move from a high-backed green chair.

*this post is all over the place and i'm sure there was a direction i had in mind. not sure where i really wanna go with it just yet but i'll post it and maybe do a follow up later.*

ride like the wind...

2009-01-15T14:14:00.000-08:00

when i was little it seemed like me and my mom were always in the car. always on the way somewhere or coming back from somewhere (i think this may be where i got my love of driving from). we'd eat fast food in the car (arby's was her favorite) with the windows rolled all the way down. i'd sit in the passenger seat and feel like her grownup sidekick going on grown up errands to the bank and to pay bills even though i was only six or seven. i sat beside her mostly being quiet and sticking my head out the window trying to see how long i could keep my eyes open before i blinked.

on these seemingly never-ending car rides my mom usually played the radio. she'd play lite 98 or 105.1 or 104.3 (yes, i remember the frequencies), you know, easy listening stations that played everything from the police and steely dan to anita baker and taylor dane (remember her?). i never pestered her to let me listen to the r&b and hip hop stations (my oldest cousin, the former roller rink dj satiated that part of my musical appetite), i just listened.

i would hum along to the songs and sometimes sing the lyrics. once i sang along to en vogue's 'givin' him something he can feel' and my mom asked if i knew what the lyrics meant. i confidently replied, 'yeah!' she chuckled a bit and shook her head. later when i rapped along with salt on 'what a man', "cook 'em up a real good meal," my mom nearly fell out of the driver's seat. she knew i had no idea about meals and men and what it took to make 'em feel good.

i took piano lessons a little later down the line and played the violin and viola, too. my aunt laments to this day about all the money she spent on lessons and dresses for recitals and chin rests and new bows, "you don't play anything now!" i tell her i appreciate the music education i received because, well, it makes me understand and love music even more now. i can see and hear layers of sound maybe other folks don't. she thinks that's a big crock of bullshit.

i have to say thank you to my mom, too, for my music education. all of the music we listened to on those long car rides around a semi-medium sized southern town did and still does something special to me. now i find that the music i choose to listen to usually goes back to those long car rides. be it simply red, hall and oates, phil collins, journey, voyager, lots of sade. al green and sam cooke, the isley brothers, the dramatics, the chilites, marvin and rick james. don't get me wrong, i've a decent contemporary repertoire as well but most times i go back to some retro--when music was real (i'll start some arguments with this)--shit. thank you for playin the radio, mama.

the songs i mindlessly hummed along to 20 some odd years ago were classics then and they're classics now. today's artists are sampling the hell out of 'em and most times i can tell you where the sample came from. i understand melody in a real way, i could be (and have been) a pretty dope arranger, composer and amateur producer. i've written a few decent songs, too. thank you for playin the radio, mama.

yesterday i put on some michael macdonald and my roommate burst into my room, "oooh, i love this song! my dad used to play this every saturday! i would even ask him to play it." that's the magic of music. it takes us back to a time that really meant something to us whether we realized it at the time or not. my mom and i aren't as close as i'd like us to be but every time i play my radio and turn the dial just so and a familiar song starts to play, i think about those car rides and home and hum along. thank you for playin the radio, mama.

don't let me be misunderstood...

2009-01-06T12:41:00.001-08:00

SANTA ESMERALDA- Don't Let me be MisUnderstood (Q.Tarantino)

the rza is a genius. i wasn't really into the wu back in middle and high school. the farthest i got was the mary and meth collabo. there was, however, this dude clifton in high school who swore by the clan and rocked timbs in the GA when nobody else did. he and aaron and cameron and ray(?) started a rap group in high school that was very, very east coast and hard for us southern folk to digest but i digress.

i like the rza for his soundtrack game. give him composing/arranging kudos for shit like kill bill 1 and 2 (the above clip comes from kill bill 2, i think), ghostdog: way of the samurai and a couple of tracks from barbershop. imdb for more.

the above track is pure gold. santa esmeralda (one of the members is french) earned a #1 club hit in 1977 with this cover (nina simone does an awesome version that lil wayne sampled on the carter III). french folk have a knack for making/appreciating good soul/funk (see: daft punk). there's an interesting appreciation for black american music/culture (ask the ex). but then again, who doesn't like how negroes roll? cue paul mooney. everybody wanna be a nigga but nobody wanna be a nigga.

i digress. again.

anyway, the entire 10:30 of the song is great but if you're in a rush, fast forward to about 6:30 and listen. esmeralda must be a bad, bad bitch.

we don't need a resolution....

2008-12-31T11:45:00.001-08:00

*i wrote this around new year's last year. thought it'd be fitting for this year too. happy new year. be good or be good at it.*

no more resolutions for me. this whole idea of resolutions is just a sick ass way for them (whoever that is, the establishment, i suppose) to pacify us into believing that we can wipe a slate clean and start over and undo all our wrongs and live the life we've always wanted.

fuck that.

i am living the life i've always wanted. i'm a single girl in new york city, gainfully employed and fly on my bad days. i'm living everyday like it's december 31. i'm making every day count. life is too short to restrict cause i could die tomorrow and my list of woulda, coulda, shoulda's would be quite long. i'm 26, i smoke like hell, i drink, i curse, i like sex and food, never been in a fist fight, and i like to daydream. i'm grabbing this life o'mine by the balls because it's the only one i've got. no nine lives here, i'm leaping from the windowsill and hoping that my chunkaliciousness breaks my fall or maybe some able-bodied man is waiting below with outstretched arms to catch me and tell me what a silly move that was. or not. i don't need a resolution.

i reconnected with a friend from high school over the break. she's married and has the most beautiful little girl ever. i will not be a mommy anytime soon. i will not be a wife anytime soon. i am not resolving to 'find a man' in 2008. i found myself a while ago.

i am not resolving to get it together, as gwen would say. i am together.
i am not resolving to be a better person. i am a better person.

i am going to ride this bitch until the wheels fall off. hello 2008.

the size of canada...

2008-12-30T14:59:00.000-08:00

i've got a pimple right under my nose the size of canada. it's worked it's way up to the whitehead stage and i'm resisting the urge to pop this ugly motherfucker.

last night it was just a painful mound of flesh and i applied hot presses to it and tried to dry it out with alcohol (rubbing not drinking). this morning i woke up and this pus infested miracle stared back at me in the bathroom mirror.

someone at work said, "damn! you gon' bring in new year's with that?"

thank you for your sympathy and fuck you, too.

jesus knows my heart.

this pimple doesn't even look real. it looks like an SNL prop. jesus.... i'ma try the toothpaste treatment tonight. sleep with a dab of crest on my face and hope that by tomorrow morning i will have decimated this bitch.

my skin is usually on point. i'm being punked 1 day before new year's eve.

what fuckery.

no sex in the champagne room...

2008-12-30T12:14:00.000-08:00

or any room for that matter.

for the past few weeks i haven't wanted to have sex.

i'm not sick (my googling tells me that infections can sometimes decrease sex drive because of pain or irritation during sex. i'm good in that department) though i have been a little down in the dumps lately (depression also lowers the libido). but i've been a tad sad (it rhymes!) in the past and it never affected my getting down to business. (cue flight of the conchords 'it's business time'.)

i have been blessed (or cursed, depending on the way you like your steak) with an unusually high sex drive. it's been a challenge to find significant others who can match me round for round. when i do, i'm in heaven, momentarily though because it's only when i'm with someone as amorous as myself that i see how much of a strain a very healthy sex drive can have on a relationship, especially when your partner has a decent sex drive but just ain't with it three or four times a day. insane, i know.

i've been doing some soul searching and i'm finding that my heart or head just isn't with it therefore my body doesn't follow mindlessly like it sometimes does. i'm not upset, mind you, about this development. i'm actually looking at it as sort of an experiment, if you will. it's been really interesting going from a highly sexual being to one who prefers not to do the do.

i've been seeing two men seriously (oxymoron, i know. you can see two people seriously just like you can love two people at the same time. ask my bestie for 15 years...) and it's been interesting to watch their reactions when i decline to be supine. i see confusion. they wonder if i'm seeing anyone else. i've gotten, "are you on your period?" as an impulse reaction but overall they're dealing well. good to know i've got good dudes in my corner.

i'll keep you updated on my lack of action in the sack. it'll be interesting to see how long this goes on.

if you can't be good, be good at it.

happy holidays!

tantrums? i throw 'em...

2008-12-30T12:05:00.001-08:00

*this is an olllllldddddd post that i never finished. don't hold it against me...:-)*

i went crazy a few nights ago.

they say insanity is doing/saying/thinking/being/living the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

i spazzed out yet again on some unsuspecting member of the opposite sex.

i have this tendency to react quite strongly when men don't behave/say/react/perform the way i think they should. i recently let loose on this guy for the dumbest shit ever!

i turned into the pea soup spittin-head spinnin girl from the exorcist not because i had been so horribly wronged, not because i found him with my girlfriend's head between his legs, not because he told me "i will never care for you the way you care for me" (true story. this happened to a girlfriend of mine. she was crushed for a minute.) i lost my mind in a text message litany of unjustified hurt feelings and anger because the negro didn't call me back.

i got mad because we'd spent damn near the whole of the previous evening together and he didn't return a phone call the next day.

i got mad for my unreturned phone call in spite of the fact that at one in the morning when i called him because "i was scared of having nightmares and didn't really wanna sleep alone" he came over and chased the bad guys away.

i got mad because he didn't do what i wanted him to when i wanted him to do it.

spoiled brat much?

i crack myself up.

closing time...

2008-12-12T14:01:00.000-08:00

as folks in my office pack it up and prepare to go to one of many happy hour events(this one includes rock band), i'm still here, like most days this week, finding it very hard to leave. i think of a thousand things i could do before i head out for the evening. i think about my commute back uptown and dread having to fight for a seat on the train and shuffle through hundreds of people at times square, all trying to just get home and get a drink.

i've found that my life has slowed down significantly lately and it feels a bit like a new haircut (which i just got btw). i haven't quite gotten used to this new pace, the new energy and space and time that i've got to just reflect. i will, i imagine. i better.

spiraling...

2008-12-09T14:13:00.000-08:00

i haven't posted in what seems like a thousand years because i've been so busy handling my life. i'm almost back to normal now and i promise i'll be back with lots of good stories (maybe about men) soon.

i'd like to see a movie soon. do i even have time to? i wanna see the beyaki movie. i really just wanna see adrien brody. ooooh, he could get it.

stop me if you think that you've heard this one before...

2008-11-07T13:20:00.000-08:00

seems there's an overall trend on this blog.

i write about men! i throw some politics or general musings in the mix but it seems i'm a bit preoccupied with the boys.

i've been dating a bit more and my mojo has been strong as of late so my encounters with men have been more frequent. therefore, that's what i've got to write about.

but men aren't the only thing i've got going on. i could write about work and promotions, family and friend drama. i could write about the weather, 24-hour news coverage and even share some family recipes. maybe i could write about global warming and reducing my carbon footprint.

but i don't want to.
maybe i should.

after having some conversations with the girlfriends and seeing an episode of 'girlfriends' a few nights back where joan constantly talks about aaron much to the annoyance of her crew, i've decided to give the menses a rest until further notice. i'll still see them but i'll reduce my contact. i'm getting too wrapped up in man rapture.

much like i took a bit of a social sabbatical in an effort to get my money and my priorities straight, i'm gonna give posting about the boys a rest until i see fit.

that said, what the hell will i write about?

i'ma go light today...

2008-11-06T07:18:00.000-08:00

*everybody's blogging about the election. i don't want to right now. i'll wait till the dust has settled. i will, however, share crystal and crystal's infinite obama playlist with you. enjoy.

in honor of president-elect obama i've created a handy dandy playlist for your enjoyment. as a lover of music and black people, i thought some of you might appreciate the tracks! you'll have to download/buy them on your own. you can also youtube them as well but of course i don't have to tell you that. take note of some of the classics!

1. marvin gaye-national anthem 1984 nba allstar game (absolutely amazing. i think nike (?) used it for a spot a little while back)

2. jimi hendrix-star spangled banner (he funks this shit up! feels like you can hear the bombs bursting and see the rockets' red glare. jimi is genius personified.)

3. curtis mayfield-right on for the blackness (the last minute and a half is breathtakingly beautfiul)

4. nina simone-to be young,gifted and black (couple versions but nina's is my fav)

5. stevie wonder-signed, sealed, delivered

6. stevie wonder-uptight

7. hall and oates-you make my dreams come true (president-elect obama made lots of folks' dreams come true)

8. curtis mayfield-move on up

9. sam cooke-a change gon' come ( a change has come, people!)

10. i don't feel noways tired-(don't know the artist but i'm sure somebody out there does)

11. ooh child-nina simone (there are lots of versions but i like nina's)

did i leave any out?

"it's a new day, missy!"
--as said to a young white woman by an older black gentleman on november 5.

this wouldn't be possible just 48 years ago...

2008-11-04T11:37:00.000-08:00

in our parents and grandparents lifetime. go vote today. folks lived and died so that we might see today.

Rosa sat so that Martin could walk.

Martin walked so that Obama could run.

Obama is running so our children can fly.

happy voting. yes. we. can.

what counts?

2008-10-29T06:54:00.000-07:00

i was having a conversation with a girlfriend a few days ago and i believe i mentioned something about my recent bout of unintentional abstinence. she reminded me of an encounter i'd had with an old friend a few weeks back. i replied, "oh, that didn't count."

"what do you mean 'it didn't count'? the deed did go down, right?" she laughed.

"yeah, but it was the worst! definitely not notch-worty."

when sex is so bad you'd rather not remember it or maybe you genuinely don't recall the romp, does it count? do you add less than stellar performances to your ever-expanding list of conquests?

vote or be humiliated...publicly

2008-10-24T12:39:00.001-07:00

this is what will happen if i don't vote. you'll be subject to the same treatment as well. note at :46 how the old lady goes off. gotta love members of the geriatric league.

karma is indeed a bitch...*

2008-10-22T08:45:00.000-07:00

back in college, i slept with a guy interest of an acquaintance of mine. after spilling the beans to a friend of mine who told a friend who told a friend, word got out. needless to say i was labeled untrustworthy and it took some time for my closest friends to come around. some friends didn't.

two weeks after news of my despicable deed had spread, i decided to go study at a friend's place who went to another college in the city. i parked my car in a parking garage and upon my return a few hours later i discovered that someone had broken into my car and stolen everything that was near and dear to me. my computer, first pair of donna karan pumps, great wool coat, purse including wallet and all things identity related, cosmetics bag and a collection of about 500 cds were stolen. i threw a fit and cried and called the police and filed a flaky ass campus police report. i never got any of my shit back.

did karma have any role in this thing? was the universe paying me back for my beastiness? i'll never know but since that incident i've definitely thought twice about dicking someone over (no pun intended).

has karma ever let you know that she was in full effect?

krush groove, part deux

2008-10-17T07:08:00.001-07:00

*read the previous post so that you're not completely lost*

we both cancel on several occasions for some reason or another and don't officially meet for a few weeks. hours before we're supposed to finally hook up, i am mortified. i can't find a thing to wear, i start to hate my hair, my makeup won't do it's thing and i just didn't feel pretty. and, no, i wasn't on my period.

i finally pulled something together and as i drank my second glass of wine, i forced myself to relax.

he finally arrives and we sit and drink and smoke and talk. he looks amazing and smells like heaven and i simply cannot get it together. i smile a lot and sit at flattering angles but i am not 'on'. i'm nervous and i think he can tell. as the evening goes on, i find he also doesn't get some of the references i make about some topics and asked what the phrase 'to say the least' meant. i laugh at myself a bit because the beautiful encasing he's housed in, overall snazziness, and sense of humor are what i find really appealing about him. that's enough for some folks, i guess. but there's something lacking, i just can't put my finger on it. maybe it's because he's my age and i don't date/see men my age, i like 'em in the well-established 30s. the rest of the evening proceeds without incident and our brief hug goodbye makes me melt in spite of his shortcomings.

when you've a crush on someone you never think past your own idealized notions of and imagined scenarios involving the object(ifaction) of your affection. you never imagine anything past the first hello, the first conversation. the idea of sleeping with a crush might mortify you because you're afraid you'll come down with a mean case of stage fright. the idea of potentially dating said crush is completely out of the question because, well, you never really thought past the point of initial contact. and you honestly probably don't know the guy/girl as well as ya think you do; you really probably don't want to either.

the beauty in crushing is that we get to create our own fantasies about our encounters with someone we like. we take comfort in replaying those fantasies over and over in our heads without ever having to deal with the real life possibility of having the veneer crack and discovering that he/she ain't as bright, beautiful, or banging in bed as we thought. we enjoy the superficiality of crushes. when the facade crumbles, we're disappointed. we might even feel silly for crushing in the first place.

i did feel a little silly but there's still a little something lingering.

he could ravage me anywhere, anytime.

anybody crushing right now?

krush groove, part un...

2008-10-17T06:28:00.000-07:00

in college i had a bit of a crush on a guy. he was the man (okay, one of the men) on campus and i considered him to be one of the 'cool kids'. he was tall (6'5"), nicely brown, always impeccably dressed, and built like a manly man.

back then i didn't have the cajones to make any sort of move. we didn't run in the same social circles so it's not like i'd have much opportunity to holler anyway. besides, i wasn't the embodiment of all my awesomeness back then; i didn't have my swagger yet.

i'd see him around campus and perform the obligatory, "ooh, there he is!" routine with my girlfriends and we'd ooh and ahh over his outfit and gossip about who he was dating and wonder if the sex was really all we'd heard it was.

my crush and i studied, partied, and graduated, without ever even having a conversation with one another and went our separate ways.

or so i thought.

fast forward 5 years to a few months ago.

i'd recently befriended a great woman and in conversation it was revealed that my crush was her 'best cousin'. i laughed and remarked what a small world we lived in. she then proceeded to tell me he lived five blocks from me. a very small world it is, indeed. i tell her about my silly youthful attraction to her cousin and she laughs saying everyone had a crush on him and she still couldn't understand why.

a few days later after my new bestie and i had had a little too much wine a little too early in the morning (i broke my before 11am rule), i phoned my former crush. i hadn't seen the man in years and had no idea what to expect but i was open and charming and i told him we should hang out. his cousin was amazed at my brazenness and, to be honest, i was, too. but not really cause by this point in my life i'd acquired a bit of swag. the wine helped, too. he agrees and we make plans.

to be continued...

love is ugly.

2008-10-15T13:26:00.001-07:00

this is an im convo i had a few weeks ago with a bestie. the names have been changed to protect the single.

me: how's [your grandparents]???

Y: they are fine...their 44th wedding anniversary is next week
me: WOW!
congrats
!!!
Sent at 3:43 PM on Thursday

Y: its not congrats to me...i am very much single
Sent at 3:45 PM on Thursday

me: but still
think about what sort of expectations
arise when you're that close to a
relationship that has worked for so long...
noting that the relationship is not always perfect
you have witnessed the ugly
the sad
angry
happy!
and all things in between
but it's a great model of how to make something work...
lots of folks don't
have that model
and they walk around
thinking love and being in love
is this perfectly compartmentalized
idea
when in actuality
love
i
ss
ugly.
Sent at 3:50 PM on Thursday

"you got to plan your trip."--gdp*

2008-10-12T06:59:00.001-07:00

*my aunt is the queen of one-liners.

when i was 16 and had just gotten my driver's license, i was more than happy to run errands for anybody that needed anything. a loaf of bread? i got it. bank run? i'm on it. pick up dry-cleaning? no problemo. i just wanted to get behind the wheel, roll the windows down, bump my total tape and ride. the freedom in driving is what really got me hooked. i could consciously make choices about which route to take, how fast i should go, whether or not to stop and get food or pass the slow old lady in front of me. while driving i was in complete control of me, a control i think i lacked in other areas of my life. that's why i still like driving now. there's nothing like the feeling of miles upon miles of highway before you, the sky stretching out endlessly around you, a favorite song on the radio and nothing but time to waste.

sometimes on my teenage outings i'd get a bit sidetracked and stop at a friend's house or run to the mall, maybe go by my favorite cousins house and chill. the problem with my additional stops is that i'd sometimes forget to pick up the thing/do the deed i initially set out to do and have to head back out to get it. or i'd choose the most circuitous route to get things done. i wasted a whole hell of a lot of gas and time. my aunt was not always pleased with this and constantly told me, "you got to plan your trip," and make lists and priortize the list before i even stepped out of the house. this way things got done efficiently and effectively.

i was talking to my aunt recently and i told her that i hadn't planned one of my particular life trips well. i'd been wasting time and resources by forgetting/neglecting things 'cause i got sidetracked by people, places, and things. i found myself having to double back to my starting point just to head back out again and finish a task. let's face it, i'm sick of driving in circles.

now that my 27th has come and gone, i'm gonna plan this trip a little better. make a huge life list and come up with the best way to get things done in a way that's beneficial for me and the folks i care about the most. auntie would be proud.

"why does everything have to be so multiracial?"

2008-10-12T06:53:00.000-07:00

i'm in kentucky and it seems i'm a bit of an oddity with my natural hair, six-foot and lady lumpicious frame. i caught an old lady staring at me over the rim of her coffee cup this morning at breakfast. the same old lady gave a death stare to the turban-wearing guy just trying to eat his bagel. i am not in kansas any more.

the above quote comes from a too-much perfume wearing young woman who wondered why the wedding menu had so many "multiracial" options on it. she looked latina by my estimation and when did having options or trying something different become a bad thing?

i miss new york.

ode to old school f^&n...

2008-10-02T07:33:00.000-07:00

*
i was talking to a guy friend last night about porn and how i liked retro-porn because you it really makes you realize that fuckin is fuckin. the same moves, same sounds, same sweat-laden bedsheets can be found throughout history. sure, technology has made it easier (and more interesting) for folks to get off, but when it comes down to two (or three or more) people getting together to get down, fuckin is fuckin. you and your man make love the same way your mom and dad did and probably still do. (i didn't mean to drum up that mental picture but let's face it, there comes a point when you start to see your parents as human beings that have needs just like you do, they wanna get laid, too.)

unlike fashion, music, and art, whose trends are pretty cyclical, fuckin has pretty much gone down the same way since waaaay before you or i could remember. that's refreshing to me. it makes me sleep a lil better knowing that years down the line when kids are listening to music i don't get and wearing shit i could never imagine and the world is a completely different place, when me and the hubster decide to get it crackin, i'ma know what the hell do to. i won't be worried about my cooch game being out of style and not knowing the latest moves cause fuckin is fuckin. i could pull some shit i hadn't pulled in 30 years and it would still be on point cause fuckin is fuckin. is change the only constant? no, fuckin is.

thank you for your time.

*a bush.

somebody bail me out...

2008-10-02T06:18:00.000-07:00

now it's up to the house to approve the bailout bill (now at about 850 billion dollars and includes tax cuts for wooden arrow makers and racecar folks) that will supposedly cure our credit crisis and ease the country's economic fears.

when rich folks' money is at stake it becomes a crisis but when poor folks money is at stake, it's acceptably called poverty.

there are communities that have been dealing with credit crisis, mortgage issues, job losses, and the like for years. this shit ain't new. at least not for folks i know.

watch the vp debate tonight. wine and wings at my house.

"you can't write a check for $1000 if you only have $60 in the bank."--gdp*

2008-09-29T07:47:00.000-07:00

*as said by my aunt in repsonse to a question of how sarah palin will stand up in the vp debate. sarah palin's inability to think or articulate ideas will keep her in the red for sure.

this is the ram i saw in atlanta.

i'm super busy at work this week preparing to go on the road again but there are a few things i'd like to mention:

1. both presidential candidates did well at the debates on friday night. senator obama, however, was a gentleman, politely deferring to mccain when he agreed with a point. they didn't really disagree about the bailout as it was structured at the time but, shit, who really was down for the 2.5 page version anyway? obama outlined very clearly his domestic policy and had a great handle on foreign policy. he was assertive and seemed very, well, presidential. mccain just seemed upset and didn't even acknowledge obama's presence, he rarely looked at obama or even addressed him directly.

i watched the debate in a hotel bar. when i commented outloud on how short/odd mccains arms seemed, a pleasant floridian woman quickly told me his arms were broken during his p.o.w stint and never healed properly. my bad. his arms do look weird though.

2. the vice presidential debates will be a riot! i'm waiting for palin to fuck up royally. a co-worker told me that the vp debate will be more structured than the presidential debate we just saw and that more structure will work in palin's favor, "she'll only be adressing one point at a time. that'll keep her less confused," he said. ha. they're prepping her like hell but i'm not sure she can pull it off. the bar is set so low for her, as along as she doesn't vomit on the podium, she'll kill it.

3. 700 billion dollars? might as well say, "can i borrow a gazillion dollars?" i can't even conceptualize that amount of money. how many zeroes are in 700 billion anyway?

4. let college crushes be college crushes. don't try and revisit the romance.

5. my birthday is happening soon. erika told me not to place so much pressure on a day and that i should celebrate my birthday month instead. unfortunately, i'll be out of town for work on the very day of my birth. i'll be at a bar nursing a vodka gimlet. fly out if you wanna celebrate. :) more details to come.

who knew toledo was in ohio?

2008-09-22T15:23:00.000-07:00

i've been on the road for two weeks. i've learned/witnessed/observed/had a hand in quite a few things. here are some highlights:

1. my bestie finally had her little one. as we ate at pf chang and talked about our dream jobs she, unbeknown to the rest of us, was in labor. happy 1-week birthday ma petit rose! i also met isabella, another little one that belongs to a friend of mine. babies. rock.

2. i saw a fucking ram on the back of a pickup truck in atlanta. i've never seen a ram in real life before. we followed said pickup truck into a gas station and asked where the hell he was going with a ram. he said he was dropping the ram off at a high school football game. the ram is apparently the mascot. if you are curious, as i was, as to what sorts of sounds rams make, they go "baaaaa", like sheep. i have a pic but i can't upload it for some reason.

3. my auntie is the best roadie ever! she's traveling with me and knows exactly where to put receipts and how to hold coffee cups and even hands me my lighter when i'm driving. she provides great traveling entertainment via her stories and proper placement of profanity for creative effect. loves her.

4. the glenn hotel in atlanta is nice but they need to provide their housekeeping staff with a tutorial on how to make a f****n bed. my 4-year-old niece has got them beat. the rooftop bar is nice, however.

5. if you meet a stalker in new jersey and he just happens to be in atlanta at the same time you are, DO NOT AGREE TO MEET HIM. the experience will be a regrettable one and you will feel quite silly after the fact. run far, far away.

6. canadians are nice as s*&t! the most pleasant people i have ever met. they're syrupy sweet like the topping on a caramel macchiato (sp?). the northern hospitality was cool at first but then it got to be a bit too much. don't patronize me cause i'm black, eh? call me sensitive. i don't give a shit.

7. turn down the road rage in detroit. you will get hollered back at. they. do. not. play.

8. baker's keyboard lounge in detroit has that same magical, musical, black folksy, soulsy feel just like st. nicks pub in harlem only bigger. plus, they serve food. the fried catfish was delicioso. double yum.

9. mjb's my life album has been on repeat in the rental for about a week. i think my aunt knows all the words by now. this album was my very first rnb album (ready to die was my first rap album) and i listened to it each and every morning while getting dressed during high school. #15 and #16 are favorites of mine.

10. eating on the road is dandy. gaining weight isn't. i'm workin on my fitness as we speak. well not really as we speak, but you get my drift. no one wants to be captain of team chunk.

on the road again...

2008-09-09T09:18:00.001-07:00

i'm headed out for my world tour today. the rain and all the abounding bullshit (it's only noon!) has got me in a funk but i'm gonna shake it off and be excited, be, be, excited.

i'll try to post as often as i can about hotels, shenanigans, tomfoolery and whatnot that i might witness or be directly involved in while away.

here's a jam for the road. literally.

you keep me hangin on...

2008-09-08T09:02:00.001-07:00

my ex used to hit me up occasionally with sweet words and it'd really fuck with me. as soon as i thought i was on the road to getting over him, he'd pop back into my psyche. i was emotionally held hostage. there oughta be a law.

love the above track cause it sounds so fuckin modern, even today. in certain versions of the song there a verse where these girls sing/harmonize the word 'man' in a way that makes me melt each and every time i hear it. awesome song.

do you know where you're going to?

2008-09-08T08:48:00.000-07:00

this morning i read this on the ad panels that line the subway cars:

“There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born here, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size and its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter — the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is the New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. […] Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness; natives give it solidity and continuity; but the settlers give it passion. [emphasis mine]
E.B. White, Here is New York

i definitely fit into the 'settler' category. i came here because graduate school was my only option. i'd only gotten into one school (i applied to two) and even if i didn't know it yet, i needed to get as far away as possible from everything familiar and comfortable in order to morph into the me i am today. some say those who voluntarily come to new york are running away from something, in search of. most folks i know here came in search of a graduate degree or salary.

what sort of new yorker are you?

i'm never gonna give you up...

2008-09-02T09:04:00.000-07:00

i'm hella busy this week and i'm glad. yet another way of launching crystal 2.0. in a little less than a week i'll be leaving this great city for a month or so and as i buckle down and handle last minute details, i'm reminded that i do indeed work better under pressure. remember, i'm a master procrastinator.

all this talk about ramadan is really making me wanna take part in some way. in college i had a friend who wasn't muslim but decided to fast because a muslim friend of his thought he'd dig it. he did dig it and now observes ramadan yearly and has done so for the past seven years.

i'ma be real. i don't feel like i can give up anything right now. not food, not cigarettes, alcohol or any of my other vices. i don't even do lent. my aunt told me recently perhaps things would start looking up for me if i just looked up. a co-worker suggested that i give up not going to the gym every day. that i can definitely do. check.

there's a jim carrey movie coming out where jim plays a negative ned type, always saying no and an overall party pooper. something happens and causes him to have a change of heart and he decides to start saying yes to everything. maybe i should have a week where i say yes to everything. in my line of work that'd be a bit hard to do but what if i said yes to everything that had to do with my personal life? i say no quite a bit, some might call me a flake or, dare i say it, unreliable. there's a lot behind why i say no so much but still manage to maintain an active social life. that's another post, however. maybe that could be my own special observance of ramadan, deciding to give up holding back and allow for a more free-flowing existence unrestricted by the word no.

i'll try this on friday and let you know how it goes. next week i head to the AAAAA and i'm staying at a fantastic hotel! i'll post about that for sure. shout out to my bestie and kennedy rose still in utero and taking her sweet time making her grand entrance.

if you can't be good, be good at it.

crystal 2.0

2008-08-28T06:04:00.000-07:00

i was talking to a friend last night and she told me she really hadn't been feeling herself lately. she told me she hated her hair, her clothes, her weight, and she just felt plain 'ol unattractive.

my friend is beautiful, has got a good weave, a cool sense of style, and a bikini-tastic body.

"are you on your period?" i asked her. seriously though.

"no, i just think it's time for a little reinvention. naomi 2.0," she said.

i laughed and when we hung up i gave the whole reinvention thing a little more thought. at some point we all wish we could improve aspects of ourselves and not just physically either. maybe we've been a bit selfish lately or a little too argumentative, a little too snappy or insecure. maybe our love handles are a bit too much to handle and our skinny jeans ain't so skinny when we're in 'em. maybe it's time for a new 'do or a little wardrobe refresher. whatever the case, at some point in our lives we all feel a need to update our program.

subconsciously, i've been doing a little updating myself. i updated my living arrangements and went from roommate to none. i like my space and let's face it, i'm naked a lot. i started volunteering with an organization that works with kids in prepping them for the college application process and beyond. giving back rocks. i'm working on my fitness courtesy of my local gym and not eating bullshit. i'm making a conscious effort to build a relationship with my sister and mom and i'm also trying to write more and be better at my job.

it's a major problem when we don't see the need to update. when we're complacent with the people we've become and think few or no improvements need to be made. i know people like that. they sadden me.

with summer doing her last dance and fall prepping to take the stage, i'm acting on this urge to improve me, to develop a harder, better, faster, stronger crystal. i'm holding on to the bits i dig about myself and tossing out the bits i don't. wish me luck!

oh no you didn't

2008-08-27T07:55:00.001-07:00

i haven't been posting though i've got a couple dozen drafts sitting around. i'm busy with work and prepping to go on the road. i wish i was more busy with a certain welcome wayward handed man but i digress. i went to the beach on saturday in the jers and had a blast. i'll be in the AAAAA in a few weeks though, hallelujah.

i also like the above commercial. oh no you didn't. oh yes i did.

rude awakening...

2008-08-04T11:28:00.000-07:00

i live right off the last stop on the three line in harlem. on my way to work i always sit in the same seat in the last car and it's never crowded. in the morning i run into the same mary kay lady that's always trying to get me to buy some products. i see the same west indian lady that eyes my outfits carefully because she and i have the same body type. the same dominican guy that always scratches his eyes and forehead but not in a crazy way, more like he has a rash. the same mother and daughter pair that separate further down the line because the mom gets off in midtown and the daughter gets off at union square. the same am new york courier wishes everyone a good day as we file silently into the waiting last car. we don't usually speak, this small band of commuters we are, but words aren't really necessary. we read books, bibles, the post and magazines and sip coffee. sometimes we apply makeup or stare into space. ipods in and sunglasses on, we mentally prepare ourselves to face the day at our jobs, our places of employment, our duties that make us breadwinners or losers depending on our trade.

we ride together, this small band, for (145, 135, 125, 116, 110) 15 minutes or so. we are content and don't mind the few additional passengers that board. they follow suit and fall in line and everybody is on one accord. we are silent and contemplative. but right at about 96th street something happens. upper west siders file in noisily with oversized swinging bags and bulging hips that force their way into the calm of our car. they laugh and talk loudly, almost seeming happy to be going to work. completely unaware of how silent the train car was before their arrival, silent not because there were not many folk on board but silent because we were getting our mind right, getting focused in our own individual ways. we glance up at each other as the sanctity of our morning space is shattered and incoming bodies block our view of one another across the isle. i am no longer focused on the ann peebles in my neighbor's ipod or the magazine on my lap. instead i feign sleep while my eyes, behind sunshades, dart from person to person hovering above me and wonder whether or not they are aware of the crime that has just been committed.

are you coming out?

2008-07-31T06:46:00.000-07:00

i don't drive in the city. i don't have a car and with gas prices skyrocketing and my paycheck not, i'm glad i don't. the only exception is when i travel out of state for work and good ol' nyu secures me a vehicle to get to and from airports and handle last minute junk, gas is so included. at any rate, i'm a pretty good driver though driving in new york transforms me into a nutcase. i'm from the south. we got highways, lots and lots of highways. we drive in straight lines. a lot. (those yellow and white perforated lines hypnotize me a bit at night if i look for too long but i digress.) new york city is quite the opposite. one way streets and cab drivers and f*(&(^g (i'm trying not to curse so much. i have a curse jar at work. give me time.) pedestrians stress me out.

when returning from a trip i immediately tense up as soon as i see the city's skyline sprawling before me. i know traffic bullshit is about to abound. i sit up in my seat, turn down the music, grip the steering wheel hard and put out my cigarette. after a few minutes on one way streets i'm alright and i relax and i light one up. the only thing that gets me nervous again is finding a parking space. a legal parking space.

i am not the best parallel parker. we don't have to do that in the GA. i didn't pass that part of my driving test. i remember it clearly:

"now i want you to park between the two orange cones," the driving test-giver instructed me.

"sure."

i tried three times to get in between the cones that i felt were to damn close together. i knocked over the cone in my rear on my last try. i put the car in park and told her, "i can't do this. would you like me to do something else?"

i also haven't figured out how the parking signage works in new york city. i don't know what the red arrows mean on those parking signs and i really don't care to. i think it's okay to park very close to hydrants. there aren't too many fires on my block anyway. i don't know the alternate side of the street parking rules and snow clearing rules and street cleaning rules. i'm not sure i ever will.

some folks who are as parking challenged as myself will use parking garages. they are expensive. some of 'em charge upwards of 10 bucks an hour. some will give a nice monthly rate that almost equals some folks' rent. i ain't got it like that and most folks i know don't either, so we continue to park, try to park, on the street. that said a friend of mine sent me this e-mail this morning. it totally epitomizes the parking experience in new york city. names have been changed to protect the challenged.

___________________

Soooooo Monday night when I drove to your spot, I of course got lost…well a little turned around, (because I'm so hopeless even in my own neighborhood; you live 11 blocks away from me and I still can't get my ass there without an unplanned detour, smh lol) and I found this GREAT parking garage!!!!!! :) I went straight up Edgecombe thinking I could turn on 149th and go east, but the park is there so I went all outta the way. Anyhoo, there is a garage on Edgecombe, between 144th and 145th that had a sign saying $4.23 all day for up to 12 hours!!!!!! I COULDN'T believe my eyes!!! Sign also said open from 7a-7p, so it's not 24 hours which may be why the rates are so low. It was closed so I couldn't inquire, but that would be AWESOME!! I usually spend $14-$20 to park for the day!! And I park on 135th by the B/C train, then take 3 friggin trains to work because it’s a local stop. But $4.23 is like lunch money, and its right by the 145th express train!!! So I went to a happy hour last night, got sloshed, passed out early, woke up late, and forgot to move my car to the right side of the street like a ditz, and remembered the garage!!! I went there to see what the catch was and its legit!! NO CATCH!!! $5 for the whole day, just gotta get there by 7pm!!!! Hallelujah!!!

and the prize goes to...

2008-07-17T11:40:00.000-07:00

i got a prize in my cereal box today.

i found at the bottom of my 12.25oz box of honey nut cheerios, a batman disc launcher. instructions on how to use the disc launcher were on the back. i was ecstatic. my coworker and i launched the thing about three times. i stuck it to my bulletin board with a push pin.

it made me think how long it'd been since i'd 1)gotten a prize in a cereal box. raisin bran and cornflakes don't give prizes. i quit eating artificially dyed cereal a long time ago. 2)i'd been so excited.

finding something lurking somewhere you'd least expect could be a good or bad thing. a man in a dark alley: bad thing. a dark man in my bed: good thing.

rough side of the mountain* part 1...

2008-07-15T10:51:00.001-07:00

over lunch last week, my friend, N, asked me, "so are you the type to get sweaty and stuff? do you mind it?"

i hesitated. what was this? indecent proposal? "yeah, sure. i'm not opposed to it." i don't have a perm.

N goes into this pitch about this lake upstate and how it's full of minerals so no fish or anything organic can thrive, "there's no fish poop," she said. N wanted to get a group of ladies together for a "Ladies Day at the Lake".

the kicker was that we would have to bike to get to this unadulterated lake. "how far?" i ask her. distance was a major consideration for me.

"only 2.3 miles," she replied. i thought, "2.3 miles. i can handle that. easy."

i told her i'd think about it. the only sweating i wanted to do that weekend was with mr. senegal. but the opportunity to get out of the city and meet new ladies was tempting. the thought of swimming in a poop-free lake was, however, very, very tempting.

i gave in and on sunday morning i prepared for a relaxing day at said lake. i packed all the necessary items (book, magazine, beach towel, snacks, sheet, blackberry, cigarettes, lighter) got dressed (wife beater, suit, skirt) and i was ready to go.

after running into unexpected traffic, seeing an accident happen before our very eyes, and getting a really late start, we finally arrived at the bike rental shop. it was already 2:30 and the bike shop closed at 5. we all thought that we'd be able to bike the short distance and still have a bit of time to sunbathe. even if we only got to hang out for an hour or so, we reasoned it'd still be worth the trip.

at the bike shop, we also rented a trailer (aka baby carriage) because we had tons of wine and cheese and fruit to cart up the mountain. because my bike was the biggest, i, by default, was to pull the trailer. i didn't complain. i think i even volunteered to do it. i was looking forward to riding a bike and seeing the mountain and enjoying the gorgeous day and more importantly, the Lake.

we started up the mountain. things were going swell. i was laughing and talking loud and crackin' jokes and telling the other ladies to ride like the wind. there were other folks walking along the trail and a few other bike riders. i was speaking to people "hey!" and feeling good.

then i didn't feel so good. as the other ladies flew by me, i noticed that the trail started to incline a bit. i kept pedaling though and breathing a bit heavily and sweating a little.

i kept at it for a few minutes more but soon i got off the bike and started to walk a bit. my heart felt as if it was going to burst no, bust. i wished at that moment that i didn't smoke and that i didn't just get back in the gym last week. the trail smoothed out a bit and i got back on the bike.

i pedaled for a little longer and soon saw my girls up ahead; they'd stopped to wait for me. i motioned for them to go on ahead. they yelled out to me, "do you want us to haul the trailer?" i shook my head. i'd volunteered to do this. i could handle it.

how far had i come? i wondered. how far did i have to go? i guestimated that i had to have gone at least a mile at this point. i cursed out loud as the trail began to incline again. my chest boomed and i heaved in and out trying to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth like a personal trainer once told me. i got off the bike again and walked. sweat dripped from the helmet on my head, my arms were tight, the bike pedal kept scraping my calf with each step and i felt like i might really die. "am i having a stroke?" i said to no one in particular. did people have strokes on mountains? what about a heat stroke?

i was a little disappointed in myself. there i was 26 years old and can't bike 2.3 miles up a mountain. granted, i'm a little out of shape but come on, i pleaded with myself. "this is unacceptable," i chastised, "you will get in better shape. quitting those damn cigarettes might be a good look, too" i told myself.

i hopped back on the bike when the trail evened out again and i pedaled hard this time. i worried about what the people i passed were thinking of me. was i ill-dressed for riding a rugged mountain trail? was i physically ill-suited for this type of rigor? i pedaled on. i wondered how far i'd come. i wondered how far i had to go.

maybe 30 minutes into my journey (i can't be sure. i wore no watch and i refused to look at my phone), i'm pissed, i yell, "i hate this bike. i hate this mountain, these rocks, this fuckin trailer, the wine, my cell phone for ringing. it better be jesus. only jesus better be calling me right now." i kicked at rocks and screwed my face up. i was mad. i could have cared less if anyone heard me at all.

"fuck this." i got off the bike and let it fall. i reached into the trailer and pulled out a vitamin water. the lake could go to hell, i fumed to myself. i didn't want to see the fuckin lake. i bet there wasn't even a lake at all and this was just some ploy of N's to trick me into getting into shape.

i looked up ahead and didn't see the rest of the crew. i looked behind me and saw a group of 4 walkers headed my way. "ain't that 'bout a bitch," i said to myself,"folks on foot done beat me biking. this is it." i turned the bike around and started to head back. i wasn't cut out for this. this wasn't me. i didn't know how far i'd come or how far i had to go.

(to be continued)

*remember that commercial advertising gospel music that moses probably listened to? the greasy faced, jeri-curled (who's jeri anyway) 50+ black men moaning tunes about mountains, rivers, and light?

the itis...

2008-07-09T10:16:00.000-07:00

the itis got me today. all i had was a salad but jesus i just wanna crawl under my desk, close the door and nap till i drool.*

if you haven't seen wanted, you haven't missed shit. the first 1/4 of the film, i'm sorry, movie, was entertaining. the last 3/4 left me feeling pissed off and frustrated, kinda like when i don't get to arrive at that magical place. in bed. with someone else.

*there was actually a guy i know who used to do this. he used to work here. used to.

mary elizabeth davis...

2008-07-07T12:26:00.000-07:00

whenever my grandma heard a thump, a knock in the distant corners of the clapboard house she'd lived in for most of her life, she'd open her eyes wide revealing her cloudy, blue pupils, raise her eyebrows and listen. she'd been blind since she was 21 but not much got past her in the way of raising seven children. much to the dismay of my aunts and uncles, she could easily distinguish the varying gaits of her children. nobody and i mean not nobody could sneak in after hours. grandma could make out the click-clack of high heels against the kitchen linoleum belonging to my fashion-forward aunt, the long, steady, slow steps of my uncle who'd lost his mind in vietnam, and my own quick, heavy-footed movement through the rooms. she could catch snatches of conversations all the way from the front porch even though she sat rocking at least 50 feet away. my grandma, mary elizabeth davis, could hear a fly piss on cotton, my uncle, the musician, would remind me when i was mad at my own mother and wanted to call her every name under the sun out of what i thought was grandma's earshot.

i wonder what my grandma heard on the evening she died. did she hear her children and grandchildren scurrying around her? auntie on the phone with her doctor, kicking off her heels and sighing heavily as sat heavily on grandma's bed. my oddly independent cousin calling 911, repeating the address loudly but sounding so calm, not frantic like those callers on rescue 911. me trying to feel useful and get her ready to go the hospital, picking out a dress and slip and washing her up because she'd made a mess on herself. grandma always told me to always wear clean underwear. the reason being should i happen to get in a car accident and need to go to the hospital, at least the doctors and nurses would know i was "wearing clean draws". "this ain't no car accident, grandma, but you are most definitely goin' to the hospital," i whispered to her. i wrung out washcloth after washcloth and the sound of the water reentering the basin was steady, metered, comforting to me.

i'm not sure how many of us already knew she was actually dying. i certainly didn't. i just thought she was sick, something else with her heart, her diabetes maybe. i'm sure my aunt, the nurse, the perfect one, knew. the death rattle, they called it. the last sounds you make before you die because spit builds up in your throat cause you can't swallow anymore. i heard grandma's death rattle but i just thought she was trying to breathe, not die.

and so the ambulance arrived with its sirens wailing and they carted grandma off sans the dress and slip i'd picked out for her, a white covering was all there was time for. we piled silently into autos, car doors slammed and we followed the ambulance to the hospital. i have to believe we were all silent during the ride. my 15-year-old self couldn't drive so i rode with my closest cousin. all she said to me was, "you hungry?" and all i said was, "yeah."

at her funeral, there were songs sung and prayers prayed and lots of flowers that my grandma couldn't see. she couldn't see the dress that my cousin bought me just for 'the special occasion' or the silly shoes i chose to wear. she didn't see my pressed hair and earrings and teeny bit of lipstick i was allowed. when she was alive, every so often my grandma would run her hands across my face, feeling my nose and my mouth, my eyes and ears, touching my budding breasts and hips, trying to get a sense of how i had 'growed up'. i was always a bit uncomfortable when she did this because her touch felt so intimate, there was so much love in it. today when i am in love with someone i close my eyes and run my fingers across their face and really, sometimes for the first time, see them. how i wish grandma could see me now, all growed up.

highway blues...

2008-07-01T07:20:00.000-07:00

i've been hearing no a lot lately. it sucks. ass. a lot.

unfortunately, most of the fantastic opportunities i've been afforded in life have happened not because i'm such an awesome, talented person but because i happened to be in the right place at the right time. (okay, okay, i unreluctantly (i coined this) admit that a higher power intervened throughout my life in a major way, it wasn't just luck and circumstance.) don't get it twisted, awesome and talented i definitely am but i know that something bigger and better than me has steered my life thus far.

for the sake of this post, let's call the deity also known as jesus christ/god, lynn. lynn is totally unisex and i think god and every embodiment of god is both male and female. another post indeed.

but i think somebody let go of the wheel.

things haven't been coming as easily as they have been in the past. rejection at every turn, a problem at every juncture, an issue, a quiet crisis eating away at my days, weeks. lynn clearly decided to let go of the wheel. i'm not defining lynn's letting go as an abandonment of me, mind you, i think lynn is just letting me steer for a while so i can realize how fucked up a driver i am and how much i really, really need him as my GPS, driving instructor, car DJ, designated cigarette lighter and all.

i'm still trying to steer though, cigarette dangling from my lips and coffee in hand and swerving all over the interstate. the music is too loud and i have no idea where to get off next. the gas light is on and there's a weird smell coming from the hood. but i still haven't let go of the fucking wheel. i should hand this bitch over. soon. before i crash or something tragic happens.

i read my horoscope almost daily. (i think lynn is big enough to make the alignment of stars and planets mean something in our daily lives. i don't live and die by it but it's fun to see if something pans out. for entertainment purposes only.) today it said something about cleaning up messes and buckling down and taking care of past junk. i did clean the apartment last night. that's one mess down and 3,478 to go. looking back i've got a lot of shit to clean up, to finish, to resolve. #2,987 is my bathroom that i haven't finished painting.

#3,479 may be picking myself up from the pavement if this driving thing doesn't work out.

call me...

2008-06-27T06:13:00.001-07:00

i wish i had tickets to the al green concert tonight. me, al, carnegie hall, could it get any better. i suppose this will have to tide me over.

i been hiding, yeah...

2008-06-19T06:46:00.000-07:00

i attended a happy hour event sponsored by one of the university's multicultural alumni groups. free appetizers, a live dj, and drink specials get me every time.

i felt old while i was there though. most of the women there seemed about 22 or so and most of the guys seemed as clueless. keep in mind i'm only 26 but my life experience makes me feel and act and most times look a bit older. i didn't feel aged in an insecure way, however, i actually felt really 'on'. i felt really together and that i had a good grip on what half these 'kiddies' would experience in academia and life and beyond. i felt like i knew what each turn of the head and flip of the hair and touch of the shoulder meant while watching interactions between girls and guys. i thought about how i looked great that day (thanks, roomie) and i knew that folks noticed. i was at ease and comfortable in my own skin and not focused on every member of the male species in the room but really tuned in to my girls and listening to stories of their crazy antics and laughing my head off and not checking my blackberry.

while i'm doing all this laughing and carrying on (country, i know. can't shake grandma even if i wanted to) a young man touches my thigh. yes, my thigh. my legs crossed in my dress revealed a bit of leg that i wasn't ashamed of. i was greased up and everything. :-)

"i know you," he says.

"yeah?" hasn't every woman in the universe heard this?

"crystal," he offers.

my girls look over and at me.

"yeah? you are?"

"we took a course together in grad school. professor [what's her name]."

and then it all comes flooding back. we would sit across from each other often. he was a newbie and i was near the end of the program. he went to an hbcu (i think) and i don't remember ever thinking he had nothing worthwhile to contribute to discussions. he was somewhat attractive back then but i was in such a different space during grad school, i barely noticed. i wasn't the woman i am today and i'm sure that influenced the way i perceived and interacted with everyone, especially men.

he looked good now. his shoes, watch and blazer all suited me. it took mucho cajones to approach a group of 5 women and chance being played due to my failing or unwilling memory. i rise to give him my signature cheek smooch and he whispers his name. he knew i didn't remember and i'm both grateful and relieved. i start to pull away and he gently pulls me back.

"you've been m.i.a," he says.

"yeah, i've been hiding," i laugh.

"let's not do that anymore," he says letting me go and handing me his card.

i sink into my seat as he walks away. he's a bit younger than i am but he left a bit of his 'swagger' on me (i swear i will stop using this word but it fits, so sue me). i've always had a thing for much older men, i'm talkin 5, 10 years older. so tenderonis have never done it much for me. but i'm old enough to know to never say never, right? i left soon after but a girlfriend who stuck around told me tenderoni was definitely checking for me, even watched me walk out.

i did the polite thing and sent the morning after it-was-great-seeing-you-keep-in-touch e-mail (good for networking and whatnot) and i've been checking my inbox incessantly for the past half hour. i'm going to give it a break now. i tend to get a teeny bit too excited about things and i'm pulling the reins on this one. but sometimes it's fun to wonder though and play what if, you know? i like unexpected possibilities. dear summer (cue lil' wayne).

"you're a bitch in the winter."

2008-06-18T06:49:00.000-07:00

yep, a co-worker told me this yesterday. i think she's right. i might have SAD (seasonal affectation disorder). but don't most folks? don't we all look forward to warm weather, open toes, and terraces?

our conversation started when i started to go on and on about my summer romances. i was saying how easy it seemed to meet new people in the summer and how my prospects are always much more entertaining in the summer months.

"you ever think that maybe your attitude is better?"

"could be. i am a little difficult during the cooler months."

"no, you're a bitch in the winter."

thanks for that. 'preciate it.

side note:

i hate the cold! i hate short ass days and walking out of my office at 5pm and seeing a street light on! being cold brings about feelings of loneliness and pain! in every memorable nightmare, i am cold.

spring and summer bring out the best in me. cuter outfits, great skin, and more opportunities to be outdoors with large group of people i.e. concerts, outdoor patios, rooftop gatherings.

yet another side note:

our new ups man just made an appearance. he is beautiful. i ran into him while he was waiting for the elevators and asked had he been waiting long. "not too long," he replied.

i'm sorry this post is so all over the place. to sum it up:

1. i am a bitch in the winter because it's cold.
2. i am not a bitch in the summer because it's warm.
3. this winter i would like to be ups man's bedroom b*^&h...

just playin, unless he gon' do it...

ciao*

nyc summer love...

2008-06-11T07:40:00.000-07:00

i don't know what it is about new york, the summer, and flings but by god, you can bet your bottom dollar that every summer since arriving to this beautiful babylon i've had a fling that was memorable (so have many of my girlfriends). let's not call them flings, summer romance is more appropriate. in fact, i've come to look forward the onset of summer. i instinctively know that there will be some suitor (or two, or three) to aid me in getting through the warmest months of the year.

last summer it was jose cuervo. he swept me up cautiously but his new york was amazing. days spent on the LES, art galleries and street fairs. cold bars on hot days, steamy sex in the evenings with the shades up and windows open. live music outdoors and in-house listening parties. talks about black and latino relations, god and love. Ls in the air and drinks going down, ice cubes on sticky skin. it only lasted a summer. we didn't expect any more or any less from each other than what we both gave. interestingly enough, now that summer is officially here, jose cuervo has made a comeback. i'm not sure if we'll do a repeat but seeing his face and hearing his name definitely remind me of summer.

this summer i think mr. senegal might be the one. we met a little over a month ago in a tipsy haze of happy hour specials and buffalo wings. "i'll be right back," i said after we exchanged numbers. my girlfriend and i left. he called to ask where i'd gone. by that time i was already uptown at another get together.

he calls the next day and we exchange niceties. we agree to meet again and on seeing him i discover that my beer goggles deceived me. he was not as attractive as i thought he was but still cute, mind you. a basketball playing, tax accountant with gorgeous lips, excellent conversation, and beautiful pair of welcome wayward hands. we ate and drank and i laughed and laughed. that evening i unapologetically took him home and promptly kicked him out. i like to sleep alone.

he calls for a few weeks and i blow him off. he is persistent and i like this. i give in and i let him know i'm having drinks with co-workers after work. i tell him where i'll be. that evening i'm not really looking for him. if he shows, cool. if not, groovy. a little past 8 i spot him making his way through the crowd, beer in hand. he's alone but cool and confident and looking uber-manly and all the while i'm whispering through clenched teeth, 'damn'. he makes his way over to our group of five women and instantly all chatter stops. i know at that moment that i am smitten, bitten like sjp.

as the night goes on, our party gets smaller. soon we find ourselves alone. we decide to grab a bite at a spot nearby. he orders for me and i don't mind. i'm reminded why i love new york so much, especially in the summer. summertime brings out all sorts of new yorkers and the les is a great place to people watch, especially on a hot ass friday night. we head uptown. what ensues is galactic, to say the least. i don't kick him out. the next day we grab brunch at my favorite little place uptown, complete with mason jar glasses and all. he says i'm beautiful. i say we could be brother and sister. we walk slowly down the ave though it's a gazillion-and-one degrees outside. we joke and i spill my coke on the sidewalk, startling two old ladies. he grabs my hand and i don't pull away. he's leaving, he says, for a conference for a week. i tell him to have a fab trip and to phone when he's back and settled. we've been texting and talking since he left.

who knows what this summer might bring but so far so good. i've no complaints.

fumer nuit...

2008-06-03T13:17:00.000-07:00

this better be a special pack of cigarettes that does my laundry, grocery shopping, puts up with co-workers bullshit and throws down with a mean long stroke after a long day. why had this pack better be a good one, you ask? because on today, june 3, i paid fucking $8.93 for it.

are you fucking serious!?
("am i fucking serious" is the real question.)

new york city decided to tax an additional $1.25 to each pack of cigarettes sold in the city in an effort to increase revenue. some city officials are touting this as a 'public health victory' since they're counting on over 140,000 people to quit smoking as a result of the price increase. you can count on me to quit today, jesus. be my strength. i just can't afford it. given all of my vices (food, shopping, alcohol, and marijuana, to name a few), i can't keep maintaining in this godforsaken, beautiful babylon that i've come to call home any longer if i have to spend $8.93 dollars every other day to smoke and not get high.

let's do the math, shall we?

depending on the day (weekday versus weekend), time of year (smoking in the cold sucks!) and mood (tipsy versus not tipsy) the number of cigarettes i smoke a day varies greatly. but for the sake of this example, let's just say i smoke half a pack a day. that's about $133.95 per month snaking around in my lungs. that's $1607.40 a year. there's an ad campaign sponsored by the folks who want new yorkers to quit smoking that highlights all of the things you could do with the money you save by not smoking. i won't go into detail here because it'd just make me mad.

this is the first time that i've ever really wanted to quit. i like smoking, i really do. and there are definitely pros and cons to quitting. you can't get high on cigarettes but they are an appetite suppressant. to quit or not to quit? team chunk vs. team less chunk? how will i look like i'm not waiting for someone on the sidewalk when i really am if i'm not smoking a cigarette? can you ever be a social smoker if you've been a non-social smoker for 8 years?

this is gonna be tough but i'm going to try to stick to my guns, after i finish this final pack.

i did go home for a stretch and i've got some crazy pics so i'll post those and write about home soon. being at home did inspire me in so many ways though. i started painting said bathroom. i'd been threatening to paint this bathroom for almost 3 years. master procrastinator i am. maybe quitting smoking is another step in the right direction brought to you by augusta, ga.

if you can't be good, be good at it.

know when to say when...

2008-05-09T10:41:00.000-07:00

as one who overindulges in every sector of her life, i've got a problem letting folks know when enough is enough.

i've got an even bigger problem letting myself know when it's time to pack it up and keep moving. i like to salvage things i care about. i've had the same beat up, one-eyed, lipstick smeared teddy bear for all of my 26 years because, well, i couldn't bear to throw him out. my mom got him for me on the very day she adopted me. i can't possibly let Teddy go. i also can't let go of this hideous issey miyake top given to me by an ex--i never wear it, i never will, i'm sure i know someone that would get a kick out of it. am i holding on to it because it's issey miyake or because i remember the season and song i heard when frenchie gave it to me? what about a 'gold' ring given to me by an ex? it's so unreal it ain't even funny, but it meant so much to me then (high school), does it mean as much now? i'm an emotional pack rat. i still haven't thrown out all of frenchie's shit and it's been almost a year since we broke up.

even as i type this, folks are busying themselves around our entire office. we're moving to a new space and as items are separated into bins labeled 'keep' and 'trash' the question of the day is, "should i throw this out?" i always hesitate when asked. the worst feeling in the world is to get rid of something and find that 8 weeks down the road the very thing you got rid of is the thing that would make your life a hell of a lot easier now.

generally folks like to say that if you haven't used a thing in the past 6 months or so, toss it. does this mean that if you haven't felt that lovin' feelin' in six months you should edit his/her mobile contact to 'don't answer'? but you can't just toss people. or can you?

it's hard to toss familiar folks. folks you've had a special connection with, had galactic sex sessions with, folks with your same brand of off-color humor. folks who don't mind sitting in the bathroom and chatting while you take a shit.

I'm holding onto someone i really don't want anymore because i don't want anyone else to get their grubby little hands on 'em. no good can come from that. plus, it's not fair to either party. finally, that's just plain bitchy.

tonight, i'm having a massive cleaning party solo. the roomie went home this weekend (have fun, chica!) and i'm going home next week so i guess it's time to get rid of some of the clutter. i hope i don't end up tossing something i may need later.

cocaine blues deux...

2008-04-29T13:02:00.003-07:00

things have been a bit hectic lately! dig this until i fill you in! kutiman featuring karolina, music is ruling my world.

butt naked wednesdays...

2008-04-16T12:55:00.000-07:00

ms. badu, how can i make it in the music biz?

give us us free...

2008-04-14T10:57:00.000-07:00

this weekend i got locked up.

i was pleasantly confined to the liberty hotel, a former 17th century jail house in boston.

i spent the weekend in boston for work. my colleague had gotten a hotel recommendation from a friend of hers who works for MLB. she figured if it was good enough for major leaguer's, it was most definitely good enough for us.

during the car ride from the airport, my colleague let me know about the history of the hotel. i was a bit hesitant about staying in a former prison cum 5-star hotel 'cause i'm not so excited about our penal system, past or present. and let's face it, i don't wanna sleep in an old jail. what if somebody died there and decided they weren't pleased with the current state of their final resting place? i didn't wanna wake up at 5am and find jimmy the blacksmith-turned-murderer hovering over my bed.

to my surprise, however, this would be the best hotel experience i've had thus far. champagne upon check-in, a club/lounge housed on the second floor, two fantastic in-house restaurants, charming details like an 'in solitary' notice hanging from the doorknob in lieu of the traditional 'do not disturb' sign and drapes with a bar pattern let me know that much thought had been put into providing the best overall guest experience possible. and who knew all of this was in boston?

after dinner on saturday night, we took a tarjay trip. upon returning to the liberty, target bags in hand, we were greeted by a queue of 60 or so smartly dressed folks standing behind a velvet rope waiting to get inside the hotel's club/lounge. the burly doorman tried to give us a bit of flack when we skirted past him:

"where do you think you're going?" he says.

"i'm staying here at the hotel."

as if i'd be trying to jump the line. did i look like a party-goer? did i look like an employee? why else would i be toting target bags and a room key? i hate shit like that. it's almost worse than feeling invisible.

never in my life had i felt so awesome (and maybe a bit elitist) about informing this bostonian that yes, a brown girl in solely an organic t-shirt and jeans was staying at this very expensive (thanks, nyu!), very exclusive hotel and for him to assume otherwise is, in fact, wack to the nth degree.

during my stay, i also rode in an elevator with larry david. i'd just come in from an early morning ciggie and coffee (i stood outside of the hotel and puffed away while folks jogged by me) and was making my way to the elevator. your requisite white guy was walking a bit ahead of me and then i noticed the sneakers, the corduroy's, the wispy, white hair, all signature larry.

we step in and i say:

"hey, how's it going?" i'm quite chipper as i say this. i'm sure he knows that i know who he is. i want him to know who i am.

"hey."

we look at each other and i decide not to go into my tv series pitch, or ask him what he thinks about girlfriends getting canceled or if he gets any flack from black people about the black family from new orleans he 'adopted' on his show. i don't ask if he thinks that black folks could ever star in a 'show about nothing' cause we've always had a whole lot going on. not much room for nothing.

we reach my floor. "have a good day," is all i say.

i scored some great bath products, comfy little slippers, the aforementioned 'in solitary' notice (i swiped it from some couples door. i know, i know, how colored of me.) and a shoe bag. i hope i never have another reason to go to boston, it's not the most brown-people friendly, but should i need to visit bobby brown's stomping grounds again, the liberty will definitely be where i rest my head.

*the pic. me enjoying the uber-comfy beds at the liberty. doesn't it look all peaceful and whatnot? no, i didn't take pics of the room or the lobby or the fantastic ceiling in the foyer. yes, there are just pics of me doing nothing. so typically me, right?

i am so clueless...

2008-04-10T11:57:00.000-07:00

dear stacey,
you can have my babies.

best,
crystal

fusion...

2008-04-07T11:20:00.001-07:00

james brown and luciano pavarotti... enjoy! peep grace jones at the beginning. ultimate fab...

it's been a long time...

2008-04-02T06:38:00.000-07:00

i'll start this post by saying that god is really good. i have been supremely blessed throughout my life. i've a praying family and jc has been by my side since my inception and all things work according to his plan. i am witness to this everyday and each day i am exceedingly grateful for his presence and power in my life. jesus is definitely my homeboy, he is the ultimate homeboy.

work has been kicking my ass lately but i am proud to say that the worst is over, the weather is breaking and i've got a new lease on life!

i'm already thinking about vacations this summer that involve beaches, bikinis, boys and booze.

a great friend is going away for a month and i'm a little sick that i'll be without her company for a while.

i am no longer in a fight with my aunt! yipee! i missed her!

i miss my magazines and books! i'm definitely back on this tip now. i also miss my daily doses of pop culture! i haven't been keeping up with shows and new music but check me in a week and i'll be all caught up!

nadi! i'd like to hear your voice on this contraption known as the telephone. please phone-a-friend.

tiffany! your dior bag is still in my house! i will post it ASAP!

congrats to my cousin who is feeding her acting bug!!!

real posts to come! hello! hello!

an asian woman said to me...

2008-03-21T12:12:00.001-07:00

"i understand the plight of angry, black men."
--in response to barack's landmark speech that i hope will remain relevant even if he doesn't get the nomination or win the white house.

no comment.

why come...

2008-03-11T07:14:00.000-07:00

1. why come this eliot spitzer prostitution craziness has everyone riled up? and why come the black women involved always seem to get highlighted during these sorts of things, especially when sex is involved? politicians like pussy (and penis), too.

2. why come i 'supposedly' gained 5 pounds just from eating a little popeye's yesterday? maybe it was the honey on the biscuit.

3. why come facebook friending is pointless? i'm starting not to like it so much. maybe i'm getting old.

4. why come this whole rihanna/chris brown partnership seems too perfect? in every photo they're flawless and perfectly posed. not a hair out of place or torn stocking anywhere.

5. why come i heart michelle obama so much but not this week's article on her in the new yorker? talk about slant.
*******
i've cleaned the hardwood floors in my place and they look and feel great. i only wish i could keep up the cleaning regimen. i've a feeling april (yes, april, not march. i don't do well with immediate goals. i am a procrastinator.) will be a very productive month for me, domestically and otherwise.

i'm in like with someone and for the first time ever a bit of jealously reared its head (i've usually no reason harbor any ill feelings toward other women. i'm generally secure and pretty satisfied with my lot in life. i usually wish no ill will toward anyone (charlie murphy!). though i remained quite composed, i was forced to let this particular little seniorita know (in my own special way) that she and her magical sprinkles could, in fact, kiss my ass and then proceed to ball up and die.

i am also currently in a fight with my aunt. i'm being immature and irresponsible but i am refusing to own up to this (to her, at least). i mean, she did tell me that i could ball up and die. maybe my telling off seniorita work-a-nerve involved bit of projection on m part. whatever the case, auntie definitely needs a time out for this one.

there must be a baby makin' powder in the water this time of year because everybody's pregnant. i want none of what they're drinkin' but i think it's pretty neat to carry around a little parasite for a while (hey nadi! :-))

"relevance is completely relative."
--thought by me as something clever to say should an occasion arise for its use. any suggestions?

through the skin of my teeth...

2008-02-28T06:19:00.000-08:00

last night i had a dream one of my teeth fell out. i wondered why it was falling out and calculated how i should smile so no one would see the gaping hole on the right side of my face. i woke up horrified and rushed to the bathroom all the while running my tongue over all 32 just to make sure they were still in tact. my reflection in the bathroom mirror assuaged my fears and i sat on the toilet with my head in my hands and gathered myself. i stumbled back to bed and woke up this morning feeling quite heavy.

research tells me that dreams about teeth usually indicate some sort of anxiety about appearance or finances. teeth dreams may also highlight an important change or transition that may soon take place. dreams of crumbling or decaying teeth could also point to wanting to avoid embarrassment or making a fool of oneself. i am undertaking a new endeavor, one i've only witnessed but never tried my hand at before. i'm a little overwhelmed but excited about the project but i definitely want to succeed at it. my money is a lil' funny and lately, i haven't been so happy with my body (though i did make a bet with someone that we'd both lose 15 pounds in a month. the loser coughs up 500 dollars. 500 dollars to a woman whose money is hilarious is quite the incentive. come april 1 i'm gonna be a foxy (i'm sorry, foxier) lady). i'm a true believer in dreams as gateways to the subconscious and dreams as methods of messaging from the divine. somebody's trying to tell me something; this time i'm all ears.

we are young, gifted and black...

2008-02-25T13:32:00.001-08:00

and that's a fact....

singing, swinging and getting merry...

2008-02-22T07:25:00.000-08:00

SNOW DAY!!!!

shovels scraping concrete. that's what woke me up this morning. like every year, when a hearty, sticking snow falls, my heart pounds a bit and i get a little excited. as a southern girl, snow will always have an effect on me. i don't think i could ever get tired of seeing my world covered in white, fluffy goodness. the majesty of snow.

i had hoped the trains weren't running. this would've been an awesome day for snuggling and eating and watching movies. but, alas, the trains were in full effect (at least the 3 was) and i had no excuse. i hopped my ass in the shower.

i got super drunk last night. should not have. i didn't eat and peer pressure is a bitch, especially when it comes from a homie you haven't kicked it with in a while. i stumbled home and crashed immediately. someone was not pleased when they arrived at my home and saw my state. i wasn't too pleased with myself either. c'est la vie, no?

today is friday and i plan on doing absolutely nada this weekend. no, scratch that. i will be going to work on saturday. "on a saturday!?" you ask. yes, saturday, sabado, day after friday. my boss has been laying down the law and i'm behind. besides, the roomie is having her monthly book club meeting and i like to stay out of the way so she and the teacakes can do their thing.

wasn't barack great last night?

be safe and be good. if you can't be good, be good at it. ciao*

if this ain't love...

2008-02-19T09:59:00.001-08:00

nicole willis and the soul investigators are the truth. check it out! join the retro revolution...

pick up the pieces...

2008-02-19T09:42:00.000-08:00

alright, kids... i've snapped out of it. back to reality. back to basics. back to me. my five minute pity party has gone on way to long. i've played the last record and made the last call for alcohol. this pity party has affected those most close to me (and i mean this in a literal sense). my apologies for not celebrating and acknowledging an uber-important birthday properly and not being accessible and fair and right.

i've recently ended a 'friendship' of sorts. this friend was emotionally draining, always needing guidance (even when she didn't know), unsure and unfocused, totally misprioritizing (not a word, i know, but who really gives a shit?) her life. i couldn't carry her cross anymore. my back is bruised and broken like hell from carrying my own. she was so high energy and always on the go, trying to distract herself from herself. i didn't want to play anymore.

and so, it has ended. and strangely (or not so strangely) enough i feel no pang, no longing for her presence at all. there is no depth of feeling, no sense of great loss. actually, i feel as if a great weight has been lifted and that i can finally breathe a sigh of relief.

but (there is always a but! i am a libra, you know) i will miss her sometimes. her stories, the silly guy antics, her vivaciousness, her love of music (like mine). we like it loud, filling the apartment.

i wish her the best.

nicole willis and the soul investigators rock! check 'em. 11 tracks of music goodness.

a name you will hear soon. kenya sollas. remember you heard it here first. will keep ya posted on the haps! ciao*

can't keep runnin' away...

2008-02-05T12:10:00.000-08:00

i'm scared.

of what, i'm not sure.

but i've been running so fast and so hard for the past few weeks, i'm positive that whatever it is that i'm trying to escape is big and bad and ugly. i don't want to face it head on.

a few years ago i had a dream that i was running a through a blair-witchty type forest at full speed. everything around me was really green and lush. i was sweating and screaming and running for my life. i was too scared to look back and find out what was after me. it could've been that there was nothing there and that I was scaring myself to death and running for nothing.

i try to put the breaks on. tell myself to relax and that everything's okay and maybe i can actually turn around and find out what's scaring me. but it doesn't work. i allow myself to be distracted by others and myself. i'll listen to music really loudly, go out, make new friends, drink, smoke, talk, whatever, just not to have to turn around...

this isn't the best post. perhaps i'll leave it up for a minute and delete it later. hmmm...

congrats to my bestest friend in the whole world. you know who you be.

also, how about those superbowl commercials. naomi campbell can have my babies.

i also have a new crush. this is nothing new. i have a new flavor of the week often. too often maybe. c'est la vie...

new yorkers, vote today.

be good. if you can't be good, be good at it...

do you know where you're going to?

2008-02-01T08:37:00.000-08:00

how goes it, hillary?

2008-01-28T06:17:00.000-08:00

"What we now know about how Dick Cheney basically controlled the information going to Bush means that we'll never really know how much responsibility Bush should be assumed to have taken with respect to serious decisions. The water will flow downstream, and often pool in great reservoirs of power that will then be taken advantage of by those who have been smart enough to figure out how to pull the levers. And I know from my own experience, and certainly from watching how deeply involved Bill was in those areas that he thought were important, what it takes to try to get the government to respond. It's not easy. We're talking about this massive bureaucracy...and you have to be prepared on Day One to basically wrest the power away in order to realize the goals and vision that you have for the country."

-Hillary Clinton, The New Yorker, January 28, 2008, "The Choice"

First off, this is a very well-crafted statement. When I read it this morning on my commute, I smiled to no one in particular. Senator Clinton has got a powerhouse of a campaign organization behind her. Jesus, those women are tough.

But what's Hillary's real message? Is Hillary telling us not to blame Bush for everything politically, economically, and socially fucked up in the past 8 years? Does she want us to see how complex American politics really is and realize that all of the blame can't possibly fall on one man's head? Is she talkin to us? Is she talkin to black folk? Cause any black person I know is sure that Bush really doesn't like black people. Is she tellin us to get real and grow up and stop the blaming, bellyachin and bitchin (and vote)?

Is Senator Clinton attempting to not totally dissolve or stain relationships between Republicans and Dems so that they can work together in the white house and actually effect some change (that sounds a lot like Obama's spill, right? bi-partisan unity and whatnot.) Or is she letting us how familiar she is with and therefore more qualified for wading through the waist-high septic tank of good 'ol fashioned politics?

Obama killed it in South Cakalaki. Hill's didn't even give a speech! Losing sucks, huh? Let's keep the fire burning! Michelle ain't gettin' relaxers in the white house yet.

peace.

fist fighting tomfoolery...

2008-01-23T10:12:00.000-08:00

tiffany asked me to revise one of my posts. i have indeed been in one fist fight. sheffie cochran, eighth grade. really it was more of a hair pulling, name-calling, kick-fest but i got suspended for three days so it qualified as a fist fight to someone. at home i didn't get in trouble for getting into that fight, there were no long lectures about lady like conduct and presentation, no grounding and no phone restriction. my aunt only asked me if i'd thoroughly 'beat her ass'. i replied that i had and that was enough for her. those three days spent at my grandma's house were pretty cool. i read a lot and mostly listened to grandma's off key singing voice while she sang along to her favorite AM station. good times.

i finally got my t-shirt! it looks great on me and i love the statement it makes.

i also went on a pretty cool date last night. i don't wanna talk it up too much due to my tendency to get overly excited about things only to have them implode before my eyes. the steak and lobster were yummy and the drinks were fantastico. the drive to the restaurant was scenic and such and though the guy was an asshole for the first hour, eventually the iron curtain came tumbling down and by the end of the night we were chatting it up, cutting up and laughing like old pals that sometimes kiss. :-) i'll keep you posted on the haps.

peace and blessings and thangs...

ballad of the sad young men

2008-01-16T07:10:00.000-08:00

Gordon Parks.Black Muslim Rally. 1963

Ballad of the Sad Young Men

Sing a song of sad young men, glasses full of rye
All the news is bad again, kiss your dreams goodbye
All the sad young men, sitting in the bars
Knowing neon nights, and missing all the stars

All the sad young men, drifting through the town
Drinking up the night, trying not to drown

All the sad young men, singing in the cold
Trying to forget, that they're growing old

All the sad young men, choking on their youth
Trying to be brave, running from the truth

Autumn turns the leaves to gold, slowly dies the heart
Sad young men are growing old, that's the cruelest part

All the sad young men, seek a certain smile
Someone they can hold, for just a little while

Tired little girl, does the best she can
Trying to be gay, for a sad young men

While a grimy moon, watches from above
All the sad young men, who play at making love

Misbegotten moon shine for sad young men
Let your gentle light guide them home again
All the sad, sad, sad, young men

*Roberta Flack does a great version of this song...

purple haze...

2008-01-15T10:59:00.000-08:00

today i feel all hazy though i went to bed at nine thirty. i got a full night's plus some because i was attempting to recover from hanging out till the wee hours on sunday night and getting no sleep at all. i've fallen asleep at my desk once already and i blamed it on the slow, sultry chaka khan i was listening to. i'm listening to the police now and though i'm seemingly more alert, my heart just ain't in it today.

all i can think about is going home and firing up the hookah and curling up on my couch and not thinking, not returning my aunt's phone calls, not looking at the mail on my table, not wondering what francois is doing.

*****
someone will be happy to know that i am no longer suffering through a 'drought'. i was so thoroughly made love to this weekend that typing about it now sends chills from my toes to my torso. jesus.

*****

i just took a ciggie break and i wanted a NON-diet fake-orange soda. somebody who saw my face when and heard the expletive that escaped my lips when the lipton iced tea capulted from the machine said, "you should drink water then maybe that won't happen."

who the fuck asked you to comment?

i'm listening to prince now and feeling a bit better. a little less hazy but still a lot more ready to go home. maybe it's the weather. maybe i have SAD. it's cloudy and cold here in nyc. it looks like it might snow. let it snow. let it snow. let it snow.

take that, take that...

2008-01-11T10:00:00.000-08:00

an old friend just got an interview for the personal assistant position to sean diddy puffy p. diddy combs. take that, take that.

i am living vicariously through and in her i see what i'd always wanted to be (hell, i could still be. as she would put it, "you ain't dead yet.") she's young and fly and fabulous and genuinely a good person and since she's been around she's been like a little light in my life. thanks, chica.
the interview is on monday and i'll keep ya posted on the happenings. i wanna know what the offices look like, who was there, what it smelled like, and the hot meter rating. for those of you that don't know, the hot meter is a scale by which the number of attractive/stylish/fly folk are measured in any given space. the hot meter rating in my office is pretty low. 8/50. there are 8 relatively attractive people in my entire office. the bad boy office better have at least a 30 with all the hype/bamboozling/tomfoolery that goes on there. that was silly. i should probably delete the last few sentences. makes me seem a bit shallow. :-)

today is friday and the roomie and i are hosting a movie night. no, not those sorts of movies.

i also recently purchased a hookah (see photo. it's the tall bong-looking device with the pineapple on top. no, not me, the thing on the table. mine is not this big by any means. it's a starter hookah.) it is fantabulous.

wish me a happy weekend. be safe and be good. if you can't be good, be good at it. ciao*

a change gon' come...

2008-01-07T11:01:00.000-08:00

check out obama's victory speech. he killed it in iowa. hope is real.

"this was the moment it all began."
--barack obama, jan. 3 2008

do the d.a.n.c.e, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

2008-01-07T09:57:00.001-08:00

my friend and i on new year's eve. inspiration for my dress by queen to be... thanks, chica! we hit a houseparty in harlem and met some interesting folks. the champagne flowed and so did a bit of conversation. we attempted to leave the party and find somewhere to dance. the operative word being attempted. we tried to hail a cab for 20 minutes in 20 degree weather to no avail. we went home. i was in bed by 3. new year's eve tip #675: find one spot entertaining to enough to stay the whole night. your chances of hitting a few venues are far and few between especially if paying to enter the same bar/club/lounge you usually go to for free proves to be a bit problematic.

the roommate and i hosted a southern style new year's day dinner for a select few replete with black eyed peas, collards, and cornbread! i was a bit concerned about how the mac and cheese would turn out but it was a hit! queen killed the greens and the jalapeno cornbread deserves some applause despite my worries about it's doneness ("put some foil over it and stick it back in the oven!).

my week is well underway and despite some theatrics last night and my telling off a co-worker on friday night (it was the alcohol, i promise), things are pretty swell.

i'm meeting lots of new folks and feeling pretty inspired by everything. redid the office and planning to frame a piece given to me by francois shortly before our breakup. i also want to paint the bathroom (i've been saying i would do this for about 2 years. i'm a procrastinator. i'm sorry, i'm a highly functioning procrastinator.)

*************
t-shirt update
check this e-mail from the t-shirt folks. i did not alter it in any way. hilarious.

Good Morning

Your replace order has not went out yet due to a backorder on the Black tee size Large, and we have not receive back the first one we shipped out.  We due have a Red tee size Large in stock ready to ship if you would like. The Black should be in mid next week. Please Advise Thanks
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

back to the salt mines. peace and blessings and thangs.

nadi, if you're reading this, can you call your friend!?

i'm so sick of resolutions...

2008-01-03T07:41:00.001-08:00

no more resolutions for me. this whole idea of resolutions is just a sick ass way for them (whoever that is, the establishment, i suppose) to pacify us into believing that we can wipe a slate clean and start over and undo all our wrongs and live the life we've always wanted.

fuck that.

i am living the life i've always wanted. i'm a single girl in new york city, gainfully employed and fly on my bad days. i'm living everyday like it's december 31. i'm making every day count. life is too short to restrict cause i could die tomorrow and my list of woulda, coulda, shoulda's would be quite long. i'm 26, i smoke like hell, i drink, i curse, i like sex and food, never been in a fist fight, and i like to daydream. i'm grabbing this life o'mine by the balls because it's the only one i've got. no nine lives here, i'm leaping from the windowsill and hoping that my chunkaliciousness breaks my fall or maybe some able-bodied man is waiting below with outstretched arms to catch me and tell me what a silly move that was. or not. i don't need a resolution.

i reconnected with a friend from high school over the break. she's married and has the most beautiful little girl ever. i will not be a mommy anytime soon. i will not be a wife anytime soon. i am not resolving to 'find a man' in 2008. i found myself a while ago.

i am not resolving to get it together, as gwen would say. i am together.
i am not resolving to be a better person. i am a better person.

i am going to ride this bitch until the wheels fall off. hello 2008.

skinny models...

2007-12-18T08:42:00.000-08:00

so today was the university wide holiday party. i'm toasted and so are a couple other folks in the office. one person went home because she was just too gone. i'm listening to curtis mayfield and feeling all reflective and whatnot. sitting at my desk attempting to look occupied. tipsy. drunk. inebriated. however you'd like to call it. welcome to my life. don't cha love it?

i ordered this shirt last week and it still hasn't gotten here yet. i saw sharon quinn wearing it when mo'nique's plus-size supermodel show was on a few months back. i searched online for the shirt and couldn't find it but i stumbled across sharon's website, (she's a chunky model that rocks a mean bald look!), and asked her where she got the shirt. she sent me the link and i ordered the shirt. i intended to wear it when i went home for the holidays but if i don't have it, i can't wear it! so i was reviewing my t-shirt order form and realized that i listed the wrong zip code... boo... i hope it arrives in time... story of my life.

peace and whatnot...

ain't it pretty...

2007-12-14T06:24:00.000-08:00

i saw the most beautiful girl on the train today. i couldn't stop looking at her. i don't think she was too embarrassed because she was checking me out too. i considered giving her my card but then i remembered that i didn't have any with me and how cheesy would that have looked to pull out a piece of scrap paper (remember elementary school math class? scrap paper!). and then what would i say? "hi, i really want you to be my friend. you'd look great in my entourage." hilarious.

almost time for me to go home for the holidays and i'm a bit excited. TIFFANY is coming! hurray! i hope i'm entertaining enough for her! always something up my sleeve! i haven't seen her in ages!

happy holidays to you all! not many posts this week. i'm tying up loose ends at work and preparing for my trip!

peace and blessings and thangs...

Counterfeit Paradise

A New Dawn, A New Day

tardy...

whatchu know good?

back for seconds...

blame it on the alcohol or whatever...

i hear you...

28 days later...

uncle bruh

four girls

heartbreak

me likey...

po lice

vomit

breathing again...

eminem's relapse

good day, sunshine...

sweetest taboo...

Stop, Look, Listen to Your Heart - The Stylistics 1971

we are family...

i guess it'll all just have to be...

you're driving me clean outta my mind...

and i will give up this fight....

my new crush...

i was just playin, unless you gon do it...

take, take me home...

don't say goodnight...

i recommend...

from chapter 18..

me likey...

25 things...

i will give up this fight...

bite me...

talk to me...

ride like the wind...

don't let me be misunderstood...

we don't need a resolution....

the size of canada...

no sex in the champagne room...

tantrums? i throw 'em...

closing time...

spiraling...

stop me if you think that you've heard this one before...

i'ma go light today...

this wouldn't be possible just 48 years ago...

what counts?

vote or be humiliated...publicly

karma is indeed a bitch...*

krush groove, part deux

krush groove, part un...

love is ugly.

"you got to plan your trip."--gdp*

"why does everything have to be so multiracial?"

ode to old school f*^&*n...

somebody bail me out...

"you can't write a check for $1000 if you only have $60 in the bank."--gdp*

who knew toledo was in ohio?

on the road again...

you keep me hangin on...

do you know where you're going to?

i'm never gonna give you up...

crystal 2.0

oh no you didn't

rude awakening...

are you coming out?

and the prize goes to...

rough side of the mountain* part 1...

the itis...

mary elizabeth davis...

highway blues...

call me...

i been hiding, yeah...

"you're a bitch in the winter."

nyc summer love...

fumer nuit...

know when to say when...

cocaine blues deux...

butt naked wednesdays...

give us us free...

i am so clueless...

ode to old school f^&n...