Hey all,
Sorry I missed it last night, I was just too tired. But I'm on it tonight yo! Let's get it!
Jasmine-she is adorable, so much makeup though for such a young girl. She can sing though, this song is an ok choice for her, but I think its clear that she has a bigger voice then we are seeing. However I do want her to stop swinging that weave around. I think Simon has a point that she isn't quite ready...she is only like 13! All this commercial talk is irritating...
Matt G.-The dueling piano guy i liked him in the beginning. I hope he does well...He loves vests. This is the whitest song imaginable, and its so fast...good lord. can he slow it down? And what is this song even about, i heard Jerusalem, st peter...what??? This is so bad. This song totally screwed him. It was too fast and didn't allow him to even really sing...it was horrible. If this were the first time i'd seen him I would be like how did he get here?? He wants to do pop/rock?? why? His voice is soulful...maybe he is in the klan and his family thinks soul music is the devil's music. He is from some nowhere place in Missouri-where ever that is...
Jeanine-DC Bartender, who i think that I might hate...It's the lacefront wig, the booty shorts, the injected fish lips, and the fact that she just did the AKA hand gesture on American idol for no apparent reason, other then to get votes. She can sing, but that is not a singers song...now she looks irritated about all the talk about the legs...ummmm you have on shorts up to your whoo-ha of course they are going to talk about your legs. Be glad that aren't talking about that horrible wig.
And why is Ryan so awkward today? why is talking to the ppl after so painful?
Nick/Norman-Still with the jokes...(the receptionist for my floor had on a purple headband like that yesterday-it was the gayest funniest thing ever). Wait...he sounds terrible. it's funny, in a sort of laugh at a retarded persons jokes kind of way. But the singing was bad. The problem is that b/c Simon hates him ppl will vote for him, but he should not be taking up a real spot on the show...YAY Paula is drinking again, she doesn't know who is talking to her, she is confused. I love it. Ryan on the other hand...is making these little post performance convos uncomfortable!
Allison-hmmm she only has braces on the bottom. Is she high? Why can't she converse normally like a person. She is so awkward...She is so strange. She can sing her behind off though...wow. This pinky ring is distractingly dumb, but then again she is 16, its probably from her favorite store-Spencer's in the mall. See she disproves the whole commercial bull crap, she is a Vato's (for those not from CA, that is what the Mexican gang members are called) daughter, she is soooooo hood, but she can sing like nobody's business and that's all that matters for this. I hope this little ghetto girl wins the whole thing just to prove the point!
Ok this kid is so boring I didn't even catch his name, nor was I motivated to rewind to find it...lol. Ahh Kris Allen. He sings like he had a stroke...a little paralysis on that one side. He LOOKS like apple pie...I don't think this song was completely wrong, he did it up at the end, but he's still really boring, the first half wasn't as good as the second. America's little girls are going to love him...but he looks sickly when he rubbed his stomach like that the first thing that came to mind was "I wonder if he has a colostomy bag?" Poor sick boy.
Megan-tattoo sleeve. I remember liking her voice. She is probably going to sing something dumb. Ok, don't dance if you don't have rhythm....white stockings really? is she a nurse in the 1950's during her off time? This sad, sad dance is the worst. This song is not demonstrating that she can actually sing, that's too bad. Oh its so bad the movements, the arms, the notes...jeez. Stop moving re-re. Even while Paula is talking...and did Paula just do "I heart u" with hand signals...that definitely means alcohol is in that cup! lol Also what is Ryan wearing?? he looks like he should be parking my car, or bowling...This is a strange (terrible) show tonight...
Matt-the welder from Oklahoma...he informs us that he doesn't "usually get starstruck"...ummm are there a lot of celebrities hanging out on construction sites in Bixby, OK? What were these other opportunities you've had to hone your not getting startstruck skills, since you know "usually" you can hold it together? Numbnut. This is an excellent song choice for him...finally someone who knows their range/abilities...also i remember loving this song. He is not a performer, he is a welder. yes he's boring. everything about him is boring. Really, he showed so much promise? When? I never expected him to do anything other then what he did. If he had danced that would have been strange. Also he is sweating like a stuck pig. get him a napkin or something.
Jessi-(jeez this show feels long) 8 yr old kid-wow that is an old kid for such a young woman. Bette Davis eyes? Never heard it. I think this chick can sing though, she might be anorexic though. Also, this is a boring song. With these last two performances I feel like I'm in a doctors office or waiting room of some sort. There was no impact with that song. She looks like a mom going to the mall, definitely better then the drug addict look she had before...she talks too much though. I, per usual, agree with Simon, there was nothing about that that I will recall later, and really no one that I run to the phone and vote for. (let's pretend I watched this the day of and actually have the option to call in :)
(Three more!!!???? Good lord)
Kai-with the hat he has a great/handsome face...but that hair is the absolute worst! I feel like I am on a cruise. He can sing, but something is off/missing. I don't know. He needs a makeover for sure. His sick momma sure is getting her groove on....umhmmm. Ok i take it back, he is goofy looking!
So this is an example of why I hate this 12x12x12 version of the show. Who they pick to be in which group of 12 controls who moves on...putting Danny (dead wife guy) and Anoop (indian boy that loves blk music) in the same group of 12 killed Anoop's chances, whereas there isn't a guy yet that I think ppl will really vote for, so Anoop would have definitely won this group. Its still not completely fair...dag blasted American Idol.
Mishovanna-She is so cute! Wow she is flat chested, like concave almost. Ok i got tricked again, she isn't really cute, its those darn pictures...I have to get that photographer to shoot me! Oh yeah she sounded great, i liked the outfit, it was cute for her. She also should lighten her hair, and NEVER do that deep voice again, b/c now not only do i think she is crazy I also thing she may be a hermaphrodite...
Finally the end...
Adam Lambert-Emo theatre baby: His skin is so bad...all that makeup he wears. Satisfaction?? really. His shoulder pads are hilarious...is that a shark skin shiny suit? All that genital touching, and the plethora of necklaces....he is a drug and alcohol problem waiting to happen and I am excited. He LOVES some pants in his boots...that is so funny to me. Oh yeah and he sang great. His hair made me weep a little bit though.
Alright let's see who won...
Ok why is the old black girl ( i don't recall her name) looking like Daisy Duke? Really shorts with suspenders, and an entire tube of lipstick? If she just wants to do adult film she is working too hard.
Interestingly this group number isn't horrible, their voices actually kind of sound all good together. that might be a testament to Ne-yo's writing, or they may be vocally well matched.
I hate this talking part...so pointless.
Ok so the ghetto Mexican girl is in...that was good. Someone should tell her however that the dress/skirt she is wearing is not flattering to her at all...
Wow this guy won...still don't know his name...oh Kris. everything about him is dull to me...perhaps he'll get interesting later on. If that dueling piano guy hadn't picked that stupid coldplay song this could have been him.
Brooke White performed...still america's syrupy sweetheart. *eye roll*
And Adam Lambert-Emo theatre baby is the third winner, and his jeans couldn't be tighter, nor could he be more pretend hard rock guy, when he and his husband adopt their first Malaysian baby he is totally gonna look back on this tape and laugh and laugh at this phase in his life.
Alright next week I should be on schedule, see you then!
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Group 1 of the top 36
Yay its finally the performance shows!! Took long enough. And Kara is still useless, and Paula doesn’t seem drunk (sadness-I miss the good old days). Ryan’s hair is darker he looks less gay. Oh wow only three of these ppl will make it to the top 12 huh…interesting.
Jackie Tohn-Rocker chick-The first part was great, then the “3, 4” and she started screaming/talk singing…which wasn’t the hotness. But I do love that she has on Nikes. This wasn’t a good vocal performance at all. That supremely ugly note at the end…ewww. She looked cute though. But if that’s the performance that we are to judge her on…she’s going home. Right? The public isn’t going to remember that performance, the vocals weren’t memorable, yeah she jumped around…and then the talking to her after…kinda made me hate her a little. Actually I’m not going to lie it was the smiley face ring she had on when she held up her finger to indicate she was contestant 1-the smiley face rubbed me wrong. Send her home.
Ricky Braddy-had we ever seen him before? A song for you may have been written by Leon Russell but it was made famous by Donnie Hathaway and since his daughter is one of the background singers on American Idol-give credit chicken finger boy. He can sing though, although I am not loving what he is doing with the song, its like the Michael Bolton version of this soulful song. He’s an odd looking boy (why is Kara talking so close to the mic…sit back crazy!) from some angles he looks young, but from others he looks old. I agree about lack of star quality…why do they make the contestants run upstairs to get to the interview with their families? And then expect them to talk after singing and then running upstairs. Oh AI, still so silly I see.
Alexis Grace-this hair is dumb, and her look is contrived. Its like she is singing off beat at times…Also, I need to get a photographer, b/c these only marginally attractive girls look great in these photos! That deep throaty note was horrible in that it wasn’t deep or throaty at all. This performance was wack to me. She didn’t sound great, I still hate her hair, and this outfit. Really they all loved it? I didn’t. I think its partly b/c she doesn’t have the chops to sing Aretha, Kelly Clarkson did, this chick not so much. Her crazy looking daddy…scary!
Brent Keith-His dimple is cute. Apparently I need to move to the Midwest b/c all these cute guys marry these unattractive women there, I would be the most beautiful black girl they had ever seen :)! Brent is cute, but I’m not a big country fan, so I’m already ready for this song to be over. I don’t think the song did anything to show his voice off. I concur with Simon, he blew it. I’ve already forgotten it. He is totally going to get popular and leave her…UPGRADE!
Stevie Wright-She’s so shiney! And she has a HUGE face! OMG this is horrible. Why sing a song by someone who can’t sing?? This is horribly pitchy and just horrible. I hope they don’t interview her with her family. Yeah that low range was God awful. I thought I recall her singing better then that, but I’m not sure. Oh her poor parents. She is totally going to cry. All this hugging everyone, before they get to the couch…I’m so impressed with her for not crying!
ANOOP!!! The great love of my life. I love his intimate knowledge of urban R&B, not that cross over stuff, the stuff that ONLY plays on black radio, I love that he knows it. Angel of Mine, I haven’t heard that in a minute. He was GREAT! Ok standing ovation, that’s my boy! I think I’m going to have to vote for him, just in case. Oooh his mom, with her short hair…look at her all liberal, and modern.
Casey Carelson-her facial expressions during the song…are a hot mess. I think the problem is that she looks like she is a 7yr old dressed up in mommies clothes, singing mommies songs, doing this horrible knee drop, and snarl lip…then she is touching herself…ok this little girl needs a whoppin’. That was bad. Her voice is not nearly strong enough for that song. But her eye makeup is pretty. I loathe “package artists”. Glad she had fun, now she can go home.
Michael Sarver-Oil rigger guy. I love the song he is singing, I loved it when Eliot Yamin did it. Not sure his voice is right for it….the second half was better then the first. The music was too loud for him I think. I felt like I could barely hear him sometimes. I think he could do better. (Paula’s weave was on point tonight!) His wife is cuter then I expected, fab little hair cut and all.
Ann Marie Boskovich-She is not at all able to pull this song off. What is with the squatting? It looks like they have to go to the bathroom, its not cute in any way. She is not as bad at this song as I expected, and she’s cute, with a cute little body so she may actually get voted through. She doesn’t have the chops to sing Aretha!!! When will ppl learn! That was quite the comeback” So sing songs that aren’t as good?” dead pan delivery, I would have respected her more if she admitted that it was a quip, rather then punking out! Why is Kara anyone’s hero?? She’s an idiot.
Stephen Fowler-I had really hoped that he would cut his hair. Rock with you! I love this song. It rained here tonight and so my stupid satellite had some troubles during the middle of the song, he sounds a bit flat/bad on some notes….hmmmm I had high hopes for him…this may not have been what he needed. His voice is better then that song. Dah well. Another one bites the dust.
Tatiana is surprisingly subdued. Why is she crying in the interview? Still hate her. This is going to be bad (fingers crossed) maybe she’ll fall?! She loves to sing Whitney, why? She is such a hard person to sing. Did Tati gain some weight? I’m sad that she isn’t doing a terrible job. But ppl can’t possibly vote for her, simply b/c of that last neck roll thing that she did. I think she toned it down, b/c she read on the internet that ppl hate her, she even calmed down her stupid laugh. Its like she took her meds today, or that she had a lobotomy. So she saw herself on the show and must have hated herself. Ahhhh and just there at the end with the comment directly to America to keep her dream alive, there was the real Tatiana.
Danny Gokey-his hair without product is a mess! I hate when ppl sing songs to teach ppl a lesson, or show America that they can do it to…shut up. I didn’t ask you to show me anything. He is hitting odd/off notes as well. The pitch he is singing in is strange. He picked it up in the second half though. It ended up being pretty great, Paula is clapping like a dolphin, Kara is screaming into a mic that she is still too close to. “Sold-out Arenas” is two words in what world? Aww his best friend is there looking sad…sigh. Oh shut up about rising above. Booo to that nonsense, tell ppl to man up and deal with it. What is the song for that? Is there a stop whining song? Sing songs you like, or that make you sound good and call it a day.
So what will they do tomorrow?
Jackie Tohn-Rocker chick-The first part was great, then the “3, 4” and she started screaming/talk singing…which wasn’t the hotness. But I do love that she has on Nikes. This wasn’t a good vocal performance at all. That supremely ugly note at the end…ewww. She looked cute though. But if that’s the performance that we are to judge her on…she’s going home. Right? The public isn’t going to remember that performance, the vocals weren’t memorable, yeah she jumped around…and then the talking to her after…kinda made me hate her a little. Actually I’m not going to lie it was the smiley face ring she had on when she held up her finger to indicate she was contestant 1-the smiley face rubbed me wrong. Send her home.
Ricky Braddy-had we ever seen him before? A song for you may have been written by Leon Russell but it was made famous by Donnie Hathaway and since his daughter is one of the background singers on American Idol-give credit chicken finger boy. He can sing though, although I am not loving what he is doing with the song, its like the Michael Bolton version of this soulful song. He’s an odd looking boy (why is Kara talking so close to the mic…sit back crazy!) from some angles he looks young, but from others he looks old. I agree about lack of star quality…why do they make the contestants run upstairs to get to the interview with their families? And then expect them to talk after singing and then running upstairs. Oh AI, still so silly I see.
Alexis Grace-this hair is dumb, and her look is contrived. Its like she is singing off beat at times…Also, I need to get a photographer, b/c these only marginally attractive girls look great in these photos! That deep throaty note was horrible in that it wasn’t deep or throaty at all. This performance was wack to me. She didn’t sound great, I still hate her hair, and this outfit. Really they all loved it? I didn’t. I think its partly b/c she doesn’t have the chops to sing Aretha, Kelly Clarkson did, this chick not so much. Her crazy looking daddy…scary!
Brent Keith-His dimple is cute. Apparently I need to move to the Midwest b/c all these cute guys marry these unattractive women there, I would be the most beautiful black girl they had ever seen :)! Brent is cute, but I’m not a big country fan, so I’m already ready for this song to be over. I don’t think the song did anything to show his voice off. I concur with Simon, he blew it. I’ve already forgotten it. He is totally going to get popular and leave her…UPGRADE!
Stevie Wright-She’s so shiney! And she has a HUGE face! OMG this is horrible. Why sing a song by someone who can’t sing?? This is horribly pitchy and just horrible. I hope they don’t interview her with her family. Yeah that low range was God awful. I thought I recall her singing better then that, but I’m not sure. Oh her poor parents. She is totally going to cry. All this hugging everyone, before they get to the couch…I’m so impressed with her for not crying!
ANOOP!!! The great love of my life. I love his intimate knowledge of urban R&B, not that cross over stuff, the stuff that ONLY plays on black radio, I love that he knows it. Angel of Mine, I haven’t heard that in a minute. He was GREAT! Ok standing ovation, that’s my boy! I think I’m going to have to vote for him, just in case. Oooh his mom, with her short hair…look at her all liberal, and modern.
Casey Carelson-her facial expressions during the song…are a hot mess. I think the problem is that she looks like she is a 7yr old dressed up in mommies clothes, singing mommies songs, doing this horrible knee drop, and snarl lip…then she is touching herself…ok this little girl needs a whoppin’. That was bad. Her voice is not nearly strong enough for that song. But her eye makeup is pretty. I loathe “package artists”. Glad she had fun, now she can go home.
Michael Sarver-Oil rigger guy. I love the song he is singing, I loved it when Eliot Yamin did it. Not sure his voice is right for it….the second half was better then the first. The music was too loud for him I think. I felt like I could barely hear him sometimes. I think he could do better. (Paula’s weave was on point tonight!) His wife is cuter then I expected, fab little hair cut and all.
Ann Marie Boskovich-She is not at all able to pull this song off. What is with the squatting? It looks like they have to go to the bathroom, its not cute in any way. She is not as bad at this song as I expected, and she’s cute, with a cute little body so she may actually get voted through. She doesn’t have the chops to sing Aretha!!! When will ppl learn! That was quite the comeback” So sing songs that aren’t as good?” dead pan delivery, I would have respected her more if she admitted that it was a quip, rather then punking out! Why is Kara anyone’s hero?? She’s an idiot.
Stephen Fowler-I had really hoped that he would cut his hair. Rock with you! I love this song. It rained here tonight and so my stupid satellite had some troubles during the middle of the song, he sounds a bit flat/bad on some notes….hmmmm I had high hopes for him…this may not have been what he needed. His voice is better then that song. Dah well. Another one bites the dust.
Tatiana is surprisingly subdued. Why is she crying in the interview? Still hate her. This is going to be bad (fingers crossed) maybe she’ll fall?! She loves to sing Whitney, why? She is such a hard person to sing. Did Tati gain some weight? I’m sad that she isn’t doing a terrible job. But ppl can’t possibly vote for her, simply b/c of that last neck roll thing that she did. I think she toned it down, b/c she read on the internet that ppl hate her, she even calmed down her stupid laugh. Its like she took her meds today, or that she had a lobotomy. So she saw herself on the show and must have hated herself. Ahhhh and just there at the end with the comment directly to America to keep her dream alive, there was the real Tatiana.
Danny Gokey-his hair without product is a mess! I hate when ppl sing songs to teach ppl a lesson, or show America that they can do it to…shut up. I didn’t ask you to show me anything. He is hitting odd/off notes as well. The pitch he is singing in is strange. He picked it up in the second half though. It ended up being pretty great, Paula is clapping like a dolphin, Kara is screaming into a mic that she is still too close to. “Sold-out Arenas” is two words in what world? Aww his best friend is there looking sad…sigh. Oh shut up about rising above. Booo to that nonsense, tell ppl to man up and deal with it. What is the song for that? Is there a stop whining song? Sing songs you like, or that make you sound good and call it a day.
So what will they do tomorrow?
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Music Notes...
Is it bad that I like the new Ludicris song ft. Plies (I loathe plies, really and truly I do) because despite its rote subject matter-she hot freak nasty and can't get enough of me despite the fact that I am also putting it down on several other chicks at the same time cause I'm so prolific and energetic and a man-at least some of the women are professional, a doctor and a lawyer. I can't remember the last time a professional woman is shouted out in a rap song as a good thing...wait is there a Jay-Z song? Well either way I semi appreciated the song. Don't judge me.
This Stanky Legg business...makes me sad to be black and/or a doer of video dances (for you Mia :). I feel like the creators of this dance should be younger. Like a lot younger. These seem like actual physical adults that have created a dance that is called the Stanky Legg and includes the lyrics "Do the booty do". And they say we need more musical education in schools. Pfsh.
Why is Plies ALWAYS corrupting classics!? Who signs off on this? Babyface, The Deele, have you heard this crap with Ashanti and Plies? Shameful, just shameful. Clearly someone needs better lawyers.
I've been meaning to be bitter about this "My President is Black" nonsense. It's like a horrible, R-rated, grammatically incorrect Sesame Street song to help kids learn colors-"My president is black, my Lambo is blue and I be got dam*ed if my rims ain't to, my money is light green and my Jordans is red." Any other colors you can name Jeezy? What color is the sky? The sun? What about snow? Do you know your numbers? Perhaps your next song can include a section counting things. This classic piece of american music also includes the innovative, spiritual and deeply reverential line "Tell my nephews and nieces I will email Jesus, tell him to forward to Moses and CC Allah." He clearly needs our prayers, and our used speak and spells.
I skipped the rest of that mess.
My sister happened upon some really cheap tickets to see Babyface last night. Yes, Valentine's night. Babyface concert. On Valentine's. Babyface was surprisingly energetic. I was expecting him to sit behind a piano, maybe a stool with a guitar. Turns out he likes to move around the stage, interact with the band etc. I've never thought that Babyface had the best voice, it's a decent voice, but he writes his songs to his strengths-which is also what I say about Ne-yo who in 20 years will be Babyface. When he ran through a melody of all the songs he's written and produced for ppl I realized that any song that I've liked in the last 20 years has been written by Babyface. The man is amazing. And he wasn't to schmaltzy due to it being Valentine's which I really appreciated. He shouted out love and couples a couple times but for the most part he kept it light which was nice.
I also went to my girl's party this weekend. It was big fun, and apparently I was a hot commodity (check me out on facebook yo!) holla! Despite there being nothing new to look at it was a fun time with all my girls and thier girls...we all got dressed together, had some pre-party cocktails. Sometimes I forget what its like to have a whole group of girls. I keep my circle pretty small not necessarily on purpose it just happens that way...actually it's a little on purpose since lots of women=lots of drama. Nevertheless I had a great time with a crowd of about 10 girls, with little to no drama.
Hope all is well with you all!
This Stanky Legg business...makes me sad to be black and/or a doer of video dances (for you Mia :). I feel like the creators of this dance should be younger. Like a lot younger. These seem like actual physical adults that have created a dance that is called the Stanky Legg and includes the lyrics "Do the booty do". And they say we need more musical education in schools. Pfsh.
Why is Plies ALWAYS corrupting classics!? Who signs off on this? Babyface, The Deele, have you heard this crap with Ashanti and Plies? Shameful, just shameful. Clearly someone needs better lawyers.
I've been meaning to be bitter about this "My President is Black" nonsense. It's like a horrible, R-rated, grammatically incorrect Sesame Street song to help kids learn colors-"My president is black, my Lambo is blue and I be got dam*ed if my rims ain't to, my money is light green and my Jordans is red." Any other colors you can name Jeezy? What color is the sky? The sun? What about snow? Do you know your numbers? Perhaps your next song can include a section counting things. This classic piece of american music also includes the innovative, spiritual and deeply reverential line "Tell my nephews and nieces I will email Jesus, tell him to forward to Moses and CC Allah." He clearly needs our prayers, and our used speak and spells.
I skipped the rest of that mess.
My sister happened upon some really cheap tickets to see Babyface last night. Yes, Valentine's night. Babyface concert. On Valentine's. Babyface was surprisingly energetic. I was expecting him to sit behind a piano, maybe a stool with a guitar. Turns out he likes to move around the stage, interact with the band etc. I've never thought that Babyface had the best voice, it's a decent voice, but he writes his songs to his strengths-which is also what I say about Ne-yo who in 20 years will be Babyface. When he ran through a melody of all the songs he's written and produced for ppl I realized that any song that I've liked in the last 20 years has been written by Babyface. The man is amazing. And he wasn't to schmaltzy due to it being Valentine's which I really appreciated. He shouted out love and couples a couple times but for the most part he kept it light which was nice.
I also went to my girl's party this weekend. It was big fun, and apparently I was a hot commodity (check me out on facebook yo!) holla! Despite there being nothing new to look at it was a fun time with all my girls and thier girls...we all got dressed together, had some pre-party cocktails. Sometimes I forget what its like to have a whole group of girls. I keep my circle pretty small not necessarily on purpose it just happens that way...actually it's a little on purpose since lots of women=lots of drama. Nevertheless I had a great time with a crowd of about 10 girls, with little to no drama.
Hope all is well with you all!
Friday, February 13, 2009
Heavy...
My grandfather has dementia.
He was diagnosed probably about 4 years ago but for the 5 years prior to that he was fading slowly and most of us didn't know it. My grandfather is and always has been anti anything that constrains or crimps his style. My dad says that he has "wanderlust". I think that's an absolutely accurate description, it also describes several of his grandkids.
My grandfather has been married maybe about 6 times, no one really knows for sure, he has carried on simultaneous families in separate cities, has an unknown amount of children and didn't really have a real role in raising any of them.
I grew up seeing him about once a month for about 20 mins to an hour typically at his hangout spot, a donut shop in south LA. We would pull up to the place, my dad would leave me in the car to go figure out where my grandfather was, just in case he was somewhere "indisposed" with a lady friend. He'd collect himself come grab me, buy me a donut, he and my dad would chat about nothing, he'd take our picture-careful to reach into the pocket containing the camera and not the one with the gun, and we'd leave. On holidays/special occasions we'd make a brief stop at his actual house that he and his 6th(?) and final wife shared.
That's the grandpa I've always known, skirt chasing, picture taking, gun toting, trash talking grandpa.
I know that while he had the family with my granny, he also managed to sire an additional family in Vegas with children of similar ages to my dad and aunt. I know that after going back and forth for some time, he finally left my granny (or more clearly was told not to come back by my granny) to be with some other woman here in LA. He drove a Harley well into his 70's, took an annual road trip back to Texas usually with whatever girlfriend he had at the time. He was one of the nicest, happiest, most jovial/easy going men I've ever known. He was charming, clearly.
Now he's coming up on 86 and he is a mere shell of the man I knew.
My dad is his only child, of only God knows how many, that has made any effort to care for him in his old age. I'm proud of him for doing that. It's arguable that he doesn't have to, his father was never there for him, his father never made an effort to reach out to him, without his own efforts he wouldn't even know where my grandfather was living. But when my grandfather started believing that $100 were $1 bills, and thought that peanut butter could take the place of his diabetes meds, my dad stepped in. Shouldering all the costs, filling out all the paperwork, figuring out all the legal, talking to doctors, and making frequent visits. It's been touching to say the least.
To help him with some of the leg work of my grandfathers care I've immersed myself in elder care issues in the past two days. We're trying to find a new facility, that doesn't feel like death's waiting room. It's been quite the process. I now know all sorts of things about wound care, the various stages of dementia, veterans benefits, state benefits, state employee benefits, and the differences between nursing homes, assisted living, and secured facilities. It's complicated. Confusing. Maddening.
But then today I learned that my grandfather was in WWII. I never knew that. How is it that I've never known that he was in Germany playing a role in such an important part of world history? There is so much to learn about this man that I barely know. And perhaps getting a glimpse into the life of this wandering man is what has motivated my dad to be present. It certainly has inspired me. I'm just sad that it's so late in the game and that I likely won't ever have an opportunity hear it from his own lips.
He was diagnosed probably about 4 years ago but for the 5 years prior to that he was fading slowly and most of us didn't know it. My grandfather is and always has been anti anything that constrains or crimps his style. My dad says that he has "wanderlust". I think that's an absolutely accurate description, it also describes several of his grandkids.
My grandfather has been married maybe about 6 times, no one really knows for sure, he has carried on simultaneous families in separate cities, has an unknown amount of children and didn't really have a real role in raising any of them.
I grew up seeing him about once a month for about 20 mins to an hour typically at his hangout spot, a donut shop in south LA. We would pull up to the place, my dad would leave me in the car to go figure out where my grandfather was, just in case he was somewhere "indisposed" with a lady friend. He'd collect himself come grab me, buy me a donut, he and my dad would chat about nothing, he'd take our picture-careful to reach into the pocket containing the camera and not the one with the gun, and we'd leave. On holidays/special occasions we'd make a brief stop at his actual house that he and his 6th(?) and final wife shared.
That's the grandpa I've always known, skirt chasing, picture taking, gun toting, trash talking grandpa.
I know that while he had the family with my granny, he also managed to sire an additional family in Vegas with children of similar ages to my dad and aunt. I know that after going back and forth for some time, he finally left my granny (or more clearly was told not to come back by my granny) to be with some other woman here in LA. He drove a Harley well into his 70's, took an annual road trip back to Texas usually with whatever girlfriend he had at the time. He was one of the nicest, happiest, most jovial/easy going men I've ever known. He was charming, clearly.
Now he's coming up on 86 and he is a mere shell of the man I knew.
My dad is his only child, of only God knows how many, that has made any effort to care for him in his old age. I'm proud of him for doing that. It's arguable that he doesn't have to, his father was never there for him, his father never made an effort to reach out to him, without his own efforts he wouldn't even know where my grandfather was living. But when my grandfather started believing that $100 were $1 bills, and thought that peanut butter could take the place of his diabetes meds, my dad stepped in. Shouldering all the costs, filling out all the paperwork, figuring out all the legal, talking to doctors, and making frequent visits. It's been touching to say the least.
To help him with some of the leg work of my grandfathers care I've immersed myself in elder care issues in the past two days. We're trying to find a new facility, that doesn't feel like death's waiting room. It's been quite the process. I now know all sorts of things about wound care, the various stages of dementia, veterans benefits, state benefits, state employee benefits, and the differences between nursing homes, assisted living, and secured facilities. It's complicated. Confusing. Maddening.
But then today I learned that my grandfather was in WWII. I never knew that. How is it that I've never known that he was in Germany playing a role in such an important part of world history? There is so much to learn about this man that I barely know. And perhaps getting a glimpse into the life of this wandering man is what has motivated my dad to be present. It certainly has inspired me. I'm just sad that it's so late in the game and that I likely won't ever have an opportunity hear it from his own lips.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
My Current Events...
In an effort to keep my blog from becoming an American Idol fansite, I figured I'd better write about somethings happening in my real life.
In the last two days I've had McDonald's and a Cinnabon. Which for those not in the know means I'm not feeling my usual chipper self. Basically when I get depressed I eat, and my go tos are mickey d's french fries and sweets. Sadly for my metabolism, these are also my old standbys for when I'm happy. So you got it...when I'm happy I eat poorly, when I'm sad I eat poorly. It's a sick sad cycle...am I the only one that used to watch Daria on MTV?
I'm coming out of my emotional rainstorm, and into a glorious new dawn. Ok that may be overstating it a bit, basically I'm increasingly less miserable then I was the day before. But that's still pretty good.
Over the weekend I saw "He's just not that into you", it was funny in parts. A little too cliched hollywood in the end, but ending a movie with "No seriously, he really is just not into you, in fact he may hate you deep down, he thinks you should die or move far away." could be a little too harsh. The main character is this chick that behaves as if she were 13 years old waiting, hoping, praying to be asked to the big dance by the handsome captain of the football team. She is so, in love with love, and boy crazy, and neurotic. I mean, there were parts of her neurosis that were familiar to me, either in myself or other women that I know, but for the most part she was so nuts! I guess it was just a lack of cynicism, she didn't immediately believe the worst about men. So weired...She hoped, and believed, forced herself to interpret all the minutiae of the men in her life into a positive despite all evidence to the contrary. Blind faith, I'd guess you call it.
My DC J believes all men are gay until proven innocent. My MD (formerly NY) JAC is a believer, a hoper, but even she has her limits. I am a cynic, I believe all men are fun/relatively honest for the initial meeting, and thereafter purport to be whatever it is they gather that you want in a man, in order to get you comfortable enough to let them hit. I'm sure there are some men that exist that don't fit into my cynical mold, but I don't know them.
Basically the movie cemented all my rationale for hating to date, and my fear that should I successfully date and marry he will inevitably behave inappropriately with some younger, perkier chippy. It reminded me why I was single, and likely will be.
In other current events news:
Why for the past two nights have I watched some long drawn out car chase through LA? When was the last time someone successfully evaded police in a car chase? Last nights chase was initially suspected to be Chris Brown, and then later DJ Khaled, interestingly the driver did in fact look like Khaled. But it wasn't him, and this guy wasn't kidding, he did end up killing himself. This economic downturn (not necessarily that this guy was suffering from it, he was being chased in his lovely white Bentley) has resulted in quite a desperate community. So desperate as to kill themselves and their loved ones. I always wonder what would have to happen in my life to make me consider ending it? I know the triggers for such behavior vary by individual, but I can't even think of what the circumstances would have to be to make me no longer value my life. I really, really like living, like a lot. It's too bad that others face obstacles that they aren't able or willing to hope, believe, have faith, or simply survive/exist through.
Rihanna and Chris Brown...so sad. Due to a scrape that my little brother (also age 19 at the time) got into over summer, I'd like to wait to hear all sides to the story before demonizing Mr. Brown. However should the reports that she was all bruised, and bitten (WTH??) up turn out to be true...it ain't looking good for C. Beezy.
Finally,let me just take a moment to emphasize how amazing my Lakers are doing. Best record in the league, killed the Cavilers win streak at home, with Kobe only marginally healthy. I'll admit I don't get intent on watching games until after the Superbowl. I am a year round fan of the Lakers, but after the Superbowl I'm all in! And this is going to be our year, I won't be broken hearted like last year, this year we got this!
In the last two days I've had McDonald's and a Cinnabon. Which for those not in the know means I'm not feeling my usual chipper self. Basically when I get depressed I eat, and my go tos are mickey d's french fries and sweets. Sadly for my metabolism, these are also my old standbys for when I'm happy. So you got it...when I'm happy I eat poorly, when I'm sad I eat poorly. It's a sick sad cycle...am I the only one that used to watch Daria on MTV?
I'm coming out of my emotional rainstorm, and into a glorious new dawn. Ok that may be overstating it a bit, basically I'm increasingly less miserable then I was the day before. But that's still pretty good.
Over the weekend I saw "He's just not that into you", it was funny in parts. A little too cliched hollywood in the end, but ending a movie with "No seriously, he really is just not into you, in fact he may hate you deep down, he thinks you should die or move far away." could be a little too harsh. The main character is this chick that behaves as if she were 13 years old waiting, hoping, praying to be asked to the big dance by the handsome captain of the football team. She is so, in love with love, and boy crazy, and neurotic. I mean, there were parts of her neurosis that were familiar to me, either in myself or other women that I know, but for the most part she was so nuts! I guess it was just a lack of cynicism, she didn't immediately believe the worst about men. So weired...She hoped, and believed, forced herself to interpret all the minutiae of the men in her life into a positive despite all evidence to the contrary. Blind faith, I'd guess you call it.
My DC J believes all men are gay until proven innocent. My MD (formerly NY) JAC is a believer, a hoper, but even she has her limits. I am a cynic, I believe all men are fun/relatively honest for the initial meeting, and thereafter purport to be whatever it is they gather that you want in a man, in order to get you comfortable enough to let them hit. I'm sure there are some men that exist that don't fit into my cynical mold, but I don't know them.
Basically the movie cemented all my rationale for hating to date, and my fear that should I successfully date and marry he will inevitably behave inappropriately with some younger, perkier chippy. It reminded me why I was single, and likely will be.
In other current events news:
Why for the past two nights have I watched some long drawn out car chase through LA? When was the last time someone successfully evaded police in a car chase? Last nights chase was initially suspected to be Chris Brown, and then later DJ Khaled, interestingly the driver did in fact look like Khaled. But it wasn't him, and this guy wasn't kidding, he did end up killing himself. This economic downturn (not necessarily that this guy was suffering from it, he was being chased in his lovely white Bentley) has resulted in quite a desperate community. So desperate as to kill themselves and their loved ones. I always wonder what would have to happen in my life to make me consider ending it? I know the triggers for such behavior vary by individual, but I can't even think of what the circumstances would have to be to make me no longer value my life. I really, really like living, like a lot. It's too bad that others face obstacles that they aren't able or willing to hope, believe, have faith, or simply survive/exist through.
Rihanna and Chris Brown...so sad. Due to a scrape that my little brother (also age 19 at the time) got into over summer, I'd like to wait to hear all sides to the story before demonizing Mr. Brown. However should the reports that she was all bruised, and bitten (WTH??) up turn out to be true...it ain't looking good for C. Beezy.
Finally,let me just take a moment to emphasize how amazing my Lakers are doing. Best record in the league, killed the Cavilers win streak at home, with Kobe only marginally healthy. I'll admit I don't get intent on watching games until after the Superbowl. I am a year round fan of the Lakers, but after the Superbowl I'm all in! And this is going to be our year, I won't be broken hearted like last year, this year we got this!
Friday, February 06, 2009
AI Recap
I'm watching the show a bit late (too much good stuff comes on on Wed. and I was out late, so some tough viewing decisions had to be made).
This is going to be a cry heavy episode...I'm weary already.
Tatiana....She is a piece of work. The fake crying, the horrible blush, she is just a mess. The overblown sense of paranoia "they are throwing me under the bus", umm you've been rehearsing for like 5 minutes calm yourself down! How her group dealt with that nonsense, is amazing.
The ghetto blk girl is named after the classy and regal Nancy Wilson. I feel for Nancy. And her group mate the blonde chick, who told her she's been nothing but drama...ummm what about her didn't indicate to you that she might be a bit dramatic? The single color, beige, stretch pants, jacket combo-resulting in a cafe con leche looking cat suit, with the fire engine red wig with uniform curls in two layers sitting about an inch and a half off of her head didn't scream (or whisper) to you that his chick might have a flare for the dramatics? Then the other boy in the group with the headband, what he is walking around crying about? Sadly, the ghetto chick does have a point-all this "I need to rest" and we're not done practicing...figuring out choreography, timing, etc, doesn't require you to sing, just get your butt up and work like the rest of the ppl.
That dumb bikini girl! She did all that to get on the show, and now quits b/c she wants to sleep in. These ppl. But then she does show up...if I was her group she would be singing by herself. Oh I can't wait for her lazy behind to get kicked out.
Wow, they are really cracking down on the forgetting of words. At least they threatened to do so, but really didn't after all.
White Chocolate: Why are they rapping, b-boxing? the girl-rapping but no singing, is she serious? SHE DIDN'T SING!!
Action Squad (eliminate them for the name alone): Wow this is bad...who picked this song? this is like a bad highschool performance. The blk guy might kill someone, namely paula. "evil in her eyes"-are you kidding? Oh you're not. Ok well then security!
WOW, the best friends group was awesome. They made Paula clap like a dolphin, so you know it was good. Those two boys are the business.
This white boy with the black hair and the blush, just took me to church with that "Some kind of wonderful", and his jeans tucked into his boots.
The Divas: This shoeless hippie chick, first off-that is nasty. Those girls were too nice to bikini girl...The one that stayed was the only talented one.
Tatiana's team: Yuck. I hate it when loathsome ppl are successful in anyway and/or continue to breath or exist.
Ghetto Bird's Team: This is going to be a hot mess. I love this boy, he is so queer the dancing sealed it for me. The blonde did out sing the bird, though. But they better watch that pistol in her purse, and/or razor under her tongue. The most hilarious part of this episode was when the blonde tried to approach the bird, and with approximately three words scared blondy so badly that she stopped all forward progress, and did all she could to retreat short of running away for her life. I laughed out loud for a full minute. While I am being hard on the black girl, were she a nice person, I'd have more empathy, she was just so negative and rabble rousing from the beginning that it was hard to root for her. Dah well.
Down to 75ppl. I was just about to complain that I didn't see my boyfriend Anoop, and then there at the end, there he was for next week. My heart skipped at him singing the Bobby Brown classic "My perogative"! :)
Until next week.
This is going to be a cry heavy episode...I'm weary already.
Tatiana....She is a piece of work. The fake crying, the horrible blush, she is just a mess. The overblown sense of paranoia "they are throwing me under the bus", umm you've been rehearsing for like 5 minutes calm yourself down! How her group dealt with that nonsense, is amazing.
The ghetto blk girl is named after the classy and regal Nancy Wilson. I feel for Nancy. And her group mate the blonde chick, who told her she's been nothing but drama...ummm what about her didn't indicate to you that she might be a bit dramatic? The single color, beige, stretch pants, jacket combo-resulting in a cafe con leche looking cat suit, with the fire engine red wig with uniform curls in two layers sitting about an inch and a half off of her head didn't scream (or whisper) to you that his chick might have a flare for the dramatics? Then the other boy in the group with the headband, what he is walking around crying about? Sadly, the ghetto chick does have a point-all this "I need to rest" and we're not done practicing...figuring out choreography, timing, etc, doesn't require you to sing, just get your butt up and work like the rest of the ppl.
That dumb bikini girl! She did all that to get on the show, and now quits b/c she wants to sleep in. These ppl. But then she does show up...if I was her group she would be singing by herself. Oh I can't wait for her lazy behind to get kicked out.
Wow, they are really cracking down on the forgetting of words. At least they threatened to do so, but really didn't after all.
White Chocolate: Why are they rapping, b-boxing? the girl-rapping but no singing, is she serious? SHE DIDN'T SING!!
Action Squad (eliminate them for the name alone): Wow this is bad...who picked this song? this is like a bad highschool performance. The blk guy might kill someone, namely paula. "evil in her eyes"-are you kidding? Oh you're not. Ok well then security!
WOW, the best friends group was awesome. They made Paula clap like a dolphin, so you know it was good. Those two boys are the business.
This white boy with the black hair and the blush, just took me to church with that "Some kind of wonderful", and his jeans tucked into his boots.
The Divas: This shoeless hippie chick, first off-that is nasty. Those girls were too nice to bikini girl...The one that stayed was the only talented one.
Tatiana's team: Yuck. I hate it when loathsome ppl are successful in anyway and/or continue to breath or exist.
Ghetto Bird's Team: This is going to be a hot mess. I love this boy, he is so queer the dancing sealed it for me. The blonde did out sing the bird, though. But they better watch that pistol in her purse, and/or razor under her tongue. The most hilarious part of this episode was when the blonde tried to approach the bird, and with approximately three words scared blondy so badly that she stopped all forward progress, and did all she could to retreat short of running away for her life. I laughed out loud for a full minute. While I am being hard on the black girl, were she a nice person, I'd have more empathy, she was just so negative and rabble rousing from the beginning that it was hard to root for her. Dah well.
Down to 75ppl. I was just about to complain that I didn't see my boyfriend Anoop, and then there at the end, there he was for next week. My heart skipped at him singing the Bobby Brown classic "My perogative"! :)
Until next week.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
American Idol
Some of you may not know this, but I am a bit obsessed with American Idol. Not like I purchase the winners music, or vote weekly (I only vote in the finale if I care about the result), or anything like that. I just don't miss an episode, I love the competition of it all, and the feeling of "I could've sung that", to me it's just a good time. When I lived in Virginia my surrogate family and I used to get together weekly to watch the show. Now that I'm back on my beloved coast I wanted to rekindle that feeling of watching it together with my old fam so I started typing up my thoughts on the show as each contestant performed. Now not only does the fam read my ramblings, but thier co-workers, bosses, friends etc, all get a forwarded copy. The couple times that I missed last year-did not go over well. So anyway I thought I would post up my thoughts here as well, in case any of you are also AI watchers, or have ever wondered what watching TV with me is like.
It’s finally here-Hollywood Week!! Yay!
Only 147 ppl out of 100,000…wow.
Idol bootcamp, Barry Manilow (why is he always so available? Does he never have anything to do? Does he need money? And he stole Oprah’s line: “Luck is when the preparation meets opportunity”)
This 8 in a row, pass the mic down business is brutal. One shot and if it’s no good you go home…eesh.
Lil-why sing Witney? Just why? As Simon always says you’ll never be as good, so what’s the point? But she was good and adorable.
Dennis-aka-scary eye/teeth kid. Yes his face said possessed, and voice wasn’t hot. Ok and the mocking Simon when you get cut-really? Is that still the hotness for season 8? He is rich and you are a nobody…calm yourself down little boy. Aside for which you have far more pressing concerns like that grill of yours.
Nathaniel-pierced kid-Didn’t he sing some random song at auditions as well? And does he have on a headband? He does. He sounded great, but the continued crying makes me want him cut.
Anoop, the Indian boy!!! I love him! He is my fav!
Jasmine-cute girl, sounded lovely. But some what forgettable.
Rose-“Hi guys, its me Rose.” She is on something…or is she prego? She didn’t realize that other ppl would be able to sing…b/c she’s never seen this show, or?? Her awkward movements crack me up. She is folksy, but I fear that might be her only trick.
Stephen-black guy with fro-sang one of my favorite songs, Stevie’s “Where were you when you I needed you, like right now” Ooooh I love it.
Jorge-the eyebrows guy from Puerto Rico…did you see those things, they grew into his sideburns. (and why did Kara call him George? His name is JORGE, get it right!)
Von-Wow there sprite, that was A LOT.
Nick-Norman, the gay comic/singer/irritator/nasal singer…the sad thing is that he took someone’s spot to come act silly. AND that he can kinda sorta sing in a way, if he just sang without all the sillyness. But man he is not easy on the eyes.
Oh, the blind guy made it. I’m glad they didn’t spend forever on him. They are too heavy handed with the sob stories.
The mini Ford commercial in the middle of this episode….Forreal?! Ford we know you need to move some cars, we are bailing you out and all, but wasn’t there a more economical/environmentally friendly way of getting almost 75 ppl through LA, then 3 at a time in your stupid trucks? This is the kind of wasteful indulgence that required your bailing out in the first place. Sheesh.
Jackie-The rocker chick from LA…all the drama/Janis Joplin mimicry…could you just sing please.
Jamar-the pierced cheek boy with the best friend-I thought he was great. I’m wondering if he could have incorporated any more patterns or prints into his outfit though…maybe some cow print, or giraffe skin would’ve been hot.
Danny-the widower-also sounded great. And I love his glasses.
OMG this dag blasted bikini girl, not again. Eww and she is from my old hood…actually that’s about right. (I hate Kara’s hair today, and what is with Paula’s ruffles?) She did start off well, but it didn’t end well…and still she got through. Has it been long enough to establish that I loathe her?
Oil rig guy-He is a big boy, I like it. He sounded good. Big corn fed, works with his hands white boy that sings…lucky wife! (as long as she has a good insurance plan on him…his job is dangerous.)
Jesus (not Christ, but the Spanish guy with kids) -he’s ok. Not bad, but nothing too exciting. I can see why he got cut.
I’m bothered by this Osmond kid-he’s an Osmond, why does he need this show?
Emily-she was dumb. You practice a song, and then make a game time decision to switch to a NO DOUBT song? Gwen Stefani can’t really sing, she can scream, but that’s about it…she got lucky to get through.
Wow they only cut 43 ppl in that round. They need to get to cutting a little harder, starting with the ghetto black girl with the bad wig that they keep advertising…I have a feeling she is going to make me sad to be black, and/or a wearer of wigs.
I might write about tomorrow’s show just because I love group day!
It’s finally here-Hollywood Week!! Yay!
Only 147 ppl out of 100,000…wow.
Idol bootcamp, Barry Manilow (why is he always so available? Does he never have anything to do? Does he need money? And he stole Oprah’s line: “Luck is when the preparation meets opportunity”)
This 8 in a row, pass the mic down business is brutal. One shot and if it’s no good you go home…eesh.
Lil-why sing Witney? Just why? As Simon always says you’ll never be as good, so what’s the point? But she was good and adorable.
Dennis-aka-scary eye/teeth kid. Yes his face said possessed, and voice wasn’t hot. Ok and the mocking Simon when you get cut-really? Is that still the hotness for season 8? He is rich and you are a nobody…calm yourself down little boy. Aside for which you have far more pressing concerns like that grill of yours.
Nathaniel-pierced kid-Didn’t he sing some random song at auditions as well? And does he have on a headband? He does. He sounded great, but the continued crying makes me want him cut.
Anoop, the Indian boy!!! I love him! He is my fav!
Jasmine-cute girl, sounded lovely. But some what forgettable.
Rose-“Hi guys, its me Rose.” She is on something…or is she prego? She didn’t realize that other ppl would be able to sing…b/c she’s never seen this show, or?? Her awkward movements crack me up. She is folksy, but I fear that might be her only trick.
Stephen-black guy with fro-sang one of my favorite songs, Stevie’s “Where were you when you I needed you, like right now” Ooooh I love it.
Jorge-the eyebrows guy from Puerto Rico…did you see those things, they grew into his sideburns. (and why did Kara call him George? His name is JORGE, get it right!)
Von-Wow there sprite, that was A LOT.
Nick-Norman, the gay comic/singer/irritator/nasal singer…the sad thing is that he took someone’s spot to come act silly. AND that he can kinda sorta sing in a way, if he just sang without all the sillyness. But man he is not easy on the eyes.
Oh, the blind guy made it. I’m glad they didn’t spend forever on him. They are too heavy handed with the sob stories.
The mini Ford commercial in the middle of this episode….Forreal?! Ford we know you need to move some cars, we are bailing you out and all, but wasn’t there a more economical/environmentally friendly way of getting almost 75 ppl through LA, then 3 at a time in your stupid trucks? This is the kind of wasteful indulgence that required your bailing out in the first place. Sheesh.
Jackie-The rocker chick from LA…all the drama/Janis Joplin mimicry…could you just sing please.
Jamar-the pierced cheek boy with the best friend-I thought he was great. I’m wondering if he could have incorporated any more patterns or prints into his outfit though…maybe some cow print, or giraffe skin would’ve been hot.
Danny-the widower-also sounded great. And I love his glasses.
OMG this dag blasted bikini girl, not again. Eww and she is from my old hood…actually that’s about right. (I hate Kara’s hair today, and what is with Paula’s ruffles?) She did start off well, but it didn’t end well…and still she got through. Has it been long enough to establish that I loathe her?
Oil rig guy-He is a big boy, I like it. He sounded good. Big corn fed, works with his hands white boy that sings…lucky wife! (as long as she has a good insurance plan on him…his job is dangerous.)
Jesus (not Christ, but the Spanish guy with kids) -he’s ok. Not bad, but nothing too exciting. I can see why he got cut.
I’m bothered by this Osmond kid-he’s an Osmond, why does he need this show?
Emily-she was dumb. You practice a song, and then make a game time decision to switch to a NO DOUBT song? Gwen Stefani can’t really sing, she can scream, but that’s about it…she got lucky to get through.
Wow they only cut 43 ppl in that round. They need to get to cutting a little harder, starting with the ghetto black girl with the bad wig that they keep advertising…I have a feeling she is going to make me sad to be black, and/or a wearer of wigs.
I might write about tomorrow’s show just because I love group day!
Monday, February 02, 2009
Frequency...
I'm trying to do better about blogging. I've been neglectful, for no real reason.
But I don't have an overarching theme today. More randomness about my life. You love it, admit it.
No response from failed paramour. Technology is a gift and a curse. I know he read it because I saw him logged into G-Chat today several times. Which means he checked his email, at the very least saw my email and chose to not read it, or even worse read it and not respond-which is the more likely scenario. Who gets an email with the subject, "Why I Don't Call" and opts not to read it? No one. Especially not him. Of course I want feedback! I want a discussion, some acknowledgment of my feelings after having committed them to (paper?) gmail. Instead I got nothing, and won't likely get anything, which is one of the subjects of irritation in the email. Also, why can't I just make him go away? I always think getting my feelings off my chest will provide me some relief, and it does, right after I send it I feel so much better, lighter, relieved, unburdened. And that lasts for all of a couple hours. Then the pondering of if/when/how it will be received, whether it will get a response and when. It just goes on and on, until that curiosity is satisfied by me likely picking up the phone and calling to investigate-or so history says. I guess it could be worse, back in the day ppl sent telegrams, hoped it got there, and had to wait weeks for the delivery and any possible response. I guess that's worse. Although I think the need for instant gratification is a modern development, and let me tell you, I got it bad.
I went and hung out with my whites the other night, a couple of them smoke, and some others decided to have a cigar since it was superbowl sunday...my hair reeks! It smells so bad that I wanted to wash it when I got home but it was too late and too cold to go to bed with a wet head. But I am going to have to change my bedding as well, since I think the smell permeated my pillow cases. You know its bad if I'm willing to walk around with a bun in my head-willingly. This is precisely why I avoid smokers everywhere I go, not to mention I'm pretty sure that I got second-hand smoke cancer last night.
Can anyone explain to me what a urinal cake is? I guess I could just look it up online...Ok so it is what I thought: Urinal deodorizer blocks, also often called Urinal cakes, are the small disinfectant blocks found in urinals. But in this show that I watched tonight the guy lamented that b/c the urinal cake was missing he splashed all over himself. So then I thought perhaps its some sort of anti-splash mechanism contained in urinals...still the secret life of men's bathrooms...all the peeing together, all the rules about which urinal to take if there is another man in there, when its appropriate to take the stall in lieu of the urinal, all of the looking without looking...its fascinating really. Oh, is it fascinating only to me, and kind of gross and appropriately not a topic of conversation to other ppl? Hmmm. Perhaps.
Alright that's all I have for you tonight-stinky hair, love letters on def ears, and urinal cakes! You're Welcome!
But I don't have an overarching theme today. More randomness about my life. You love it, admit it.
No response from failed paramour. Technology is a gift and a curse. I know he read it because I saw him logged into G-Chat today several times. Which means he checked his email, at the very least saw my email and chose to not read it, or even worse read it and not respond-which is the more likely scenario. Who gets an email with the subject, "Why I Don't Call" and opts not to read it? No one. Especially not him. Of course I want feedback! I want a discussion, some acknowledgment of my feelings after having committed them to (paper?) gmail. Instead I got nothing, and won't likely get anything, which is one of the subjects of irritation in the email. Also, why can't I just make him go away? I always think getting my feelings off my chest will provide me some relief, and it does, right after I send it I feel so much better, lighter, relieved, unburdened. And that lasts for all of a couple hours. Then the pondering of if/when/how it will be received, whether it will get a response and when. It just goes on and on, until that curiosity is satisfied by me likely picking up the phone and calling to investigate-or so history says. I guess it could be worse, back in the day ppl sent telegrams, hoped it got there, and had to wait weeks for the delivery and any possible response. I guess that's worse. Although I think the need for instant gratification is a modern development, and let me tell you, I got it bad.
I went and hung out with my whites the other night, a couple of them smoke, and some others decided to have a cigar since it was superbowl sunday...my hair reeks! It smells so bad that I wanted to wash it when I got home but it was too late and too cold to go to bed with a wet head. But I am going to have to change my bedding as well, since I think the smell permeated my pillow cases. You know its bad if I'm willing to walk around with a bun in my head-willingly. This is precisely why I avoid smokers everywhere I go, not to mention I'm pretty sure that I got second-hand smoke cancer last night.
Can anyone explain to me what a urinal cake is? I guess I could just look it up online...Ok so it is what I thought: Urinal deodorizer blocks, also often called Urinal cakes, are the small disinfectant blocks found in urinals. But in this show that I watched tonight the guy lamented that b/c the urinal cake was missing he splashed all over himself. So then I thought perhaps its some sort of anti-splash mechanism contained in urinals...still the secret life of men's bathrooms...all the peeing together, all the rules about which urinal to take if there is another man in there, when its appropriate to take the stall in lieu of the urinal, all of the looking without looking...its fascinating really. Oh, is it fascinating only to me, and kind of gross and appropriately not a topic of conversation to other ppl? Hmmm. Perhaps.
Alright that's all I have for you tonight-stinky hair, love letters on def ears, and urinal cakes! You're Welcome!
Saturday, January 31, 2009
...Spectrum...
Old black men love me.
I can say that definitively. Not in a conceited way. But as a simple matter of fact.
Also I may be more attractive then usual in Ralph's grocery stores. Their lighting works for me. That's not quite tested yet so I won't assert it as fact.
My last two times at Ralphs an older black man made an effort to get in line behind me, and then proceeded to tell me that I was "breath-taking" or "incredibly blessed by God". Odell who paid the first compliment followed it up telling me how much he would like to rest his head on my breasts. The second gentleman was much more modest and told me that if he were a younger man he wouldn't even let me out of the store.
I gotta say, I'm not mad at the attention. It’s nice to hear a man be upfront with his. And what woman doesn't like compliments? I might mess around and get me an old black man, get me some AARP benefits. Don't hate.
Being with said old black man will give me the opportunity to pursue my dreams. What are those you ask? I think maybe I just figured it out-I want to be a travel writer OR I want to be director of human resources or attorney recruiting at a large law firm. Or both/all three. I still have this notion (monkey on my back) about professional prestige or somesuch. I have this need for a title or corporate affirmation. While I think being a travel writer, or in the travel field, full time would be incredible, its not a professional title like lawyer or director of something or other, to me it doesn't connote the same level of achievement. If I'm not actually practicing law I feel like I'm going to spend the rest of my life saying phrases like "Well I'm a lawyer but currently I work as a fry cook at Burger King". I wonder why? Why do I need that title so bad? Even though up until now it is gratifying in title only and not at all in practice. A-type, overachieving, petrified of self perceived failure, stuck in false hierarchy corporate america personality type. Yep, that's me.
I wrote quite possibly the longest email of my lifetime today. It's to a failed(?) paramour. It's subject was "Why I don't call.", and I signed out with "Adoration", as you can imagine everything in between was from one end of the spectrum to the other and back again.
I spent about two hours or so sitting outside my local coffee bean today, reading my book, talking on the phone etc. A guy friend called just as I was headed there and asked if I was meeting a date at the coffee shop. I told him no, that I was going solo, and he advised that I not turn into one of those perpetually single but awesome girls, because he was going to be a perpetually single playboy and he was going to be looking for women like me. So to protect myself from him and his ilk I need to get a man. Sage, that one. I told him I was working on it. Am I? Will I?
I wish there was someone that I wanted to make out with, that I don't refer to as the devil incarnate behind his back.
It's a Saturday night and I am at home. That is remarkable. I'd better have a cocktail just to ensure my body doesn't go into shock.
I'm at this strange place in my life where I have more questions then answers. While Rabbi Shumley seems to think that is the best way to live. I think it sucks. I like to know what I'm doing, or at least appear to know, right now I'm not even fooling myself. I miss my girls-JAC, KMo, JLK, Nya, Tiff-how did this happen that my nearest and dearest all live thousands of miles away, AT THE SAME TIME?
I have torn up my house looking for my Teena Marie Greatest Hits CD. I still cannot find it, I MUST find it. And I have to take better care of my CD's, this is the pits.
I can't really cook, right. I don't own any of the right/proper/useful cooking utensils/products/ingredients-basically I just get everything from my sister's house and cook at my own. But in an effort to transform myself into a person who can cook, I’ve been trying it out. This week I made: Salmon in a white wine reduction with (I could not be more proud of my reduction), spinach, and mashed butternut squash. It was a bit ambitious but overall it was pretty good. One day I'm actually going to be a good cook. It wasn't this week but its coming.
I'm watching Kung Fu Hustle. I love this movie. It makes me happy. The fight scenes are so over the top ridiculous. It’s silly and irreverent. Basically its quality modern cinema. :) Also, it’s stupid and escapist-perfect for an evening in with Jack D.
I can say that definitively. Not in a conceited way. But as a simple matter of fact.
Also I may be more attractive then usual in Ralph's grocery stores. Their lighting works for me. That's not quite tested yet so I won't assert it as fact.
My last two times at Ralphs an older black man made an effort to get in line behind me, and then proceeded to tell me that I was "breath-taking" or "incredibly blessed by God". Odell who paid the first compliment followed it up telling me how much he would like to rest his head on my breasts. The second gentleman was much more modest and told me that if he were a younger man he wouldn't even let me out of the store.
I gotta say, I'm not mad at the attention. It’s nice to hear a man be upfront with his. And what woman doesn't like compliments? I might mess around and get me an old black man, get me some AARP benefits. Don't hate.
Being with said old black man will give me the opportunity to pursue my dreams. What are those you ask? I think maybe I just figured it out-I want to be a travel writer OR I want to be director of human resources or attorney recruiting at a large law firm. Or both/all three. I still have this notion (monkey on my back) about professional prestige or somesuch. I have this need for a title or corporate affirmation. While I think being a travel writer, or in the travel field, full time would be incredible, its not a professional title like lawyer or director of something or other, to me it doesn't connote the same level of achievement. If I'm not actually practicing law I feel like I'm going to spend the rest of my life saying phrases like "Well I'm a lawyer but currently I work as a fry cook at Burger King". I wonder why? Why do I need that title so bad? Even though up until now it is gratifying in title only and not at all in practice. A-type, overachieving, petrified of self perceived failure, stuck in false hierarchy corporate america personality type. Yep, that's me.
I wrote quite possibly the longest email of my lifetime today. It's to a failed(?) paramour. It's subject was "Why I don't call.", and I signed out with "Adoration", as you can imagine everything in between was from one end of the spectrum to the other and back again.
I spent about two hours or so sitting outside my local coffee bean today, reading my book, talking on the phone etc. A guy friend called just as I was headed there and asked if I was meeting a date at the coffee shop. I told him no, that I was going solo, and he advised that I not turn into one of those perpetually single but awesome girls, because he was going to be a perpetually single playboy and he was going to be looking for women like me. So to protect myself from him and his ilk I need to get a man. Sage, that one. I told him I was working on it. Am I? Will I?
I wish there was someone that I wanted to make out with, that I don't refer to as the devil incarnate behind his back.
It's a Saturday night and I am at home. That is remarkable. I'd better have a cocktail just to ensure my body doesn't go into shock.
I'm at this strange place in my life where I have more questions then answers. While Rabbi Shumley seems to think that is the best way to live. I think it sucks. I like to know what I'm doing, or at least appear to know, right now I'm not even fooling myself. I miss my girls-JAC, KMo, JLK, Nya, Tiff-how did this happen that my nearest and dearest all live thousands of miles away, AT THE SAME TIME?
I have torn up my house looking for my Teena Marie Greatest Hits CD. I still cannot find it, I MUST find it. And I have to take better care of my CD's, this is the pits.
I can't really cook, right. I don't own any of the right/proper/useful cooking utensils/products/ingredients-basically I just get everything from my sister's house and cook at my own. But in an effort to transform myself into a person who can cook, I’ve been trying it out. This week I made: Salmon in a white wine reduction with (I could not be more proud of my reduction), spinach, and mashed butternut squash. It was a bit ambitious but overall it was pretty good. One day I'm actually going to be a good cook. It wasn't this week but its coming.
I'm watching Kung Fu Hustle. I love this movie. It makes me happy. The fight scenes are so over the top ridiculous. It’s silly and irreverent. Basically its quality modern cinema. :) Also, it’s stupid and escapist-perfect for an evening in with Jack D.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Jenn in Wonderland...
Hey All,
How goes it? Miss me?
So lately I've been thinking lots about relationships and how I don't have one and why, and what the relationships I see are like, how the men I know behave and interact with women (theirs and others) etc...
I was not a "I believe in fairy tales" kind of kid. I didn't play with baby dolls, I wasn't into make believe. I was an only child with relatively older parents. I spent most of my time with adults, eavesdropping on their adult conversations, adult problems, and adult relationships. My parents were of the children are to be seen and not heard school of thought, and one of the benefits of being quiet was that adults thought I wasn't paying attention, or that I didn't understand. Ha! I was a plethora of information. Every now and again my mother would utilize this resource when she was relaying the details of someones business (gossiping)- "Jennifer, where did Mary say her husband went and how long has he been gone?" However, if I volunteered the information b/c she was telling the story wrong...yeah, I got in trouble.
So I grew up a very practical kid with little imagination. I knew there was no way that I was going to get a pony, so I never asked for one. But I knew that I could ask for a TV in my room, I wouldn't likely get it, but they would instead get me some other sort of electronic that I wanted like a stereo. I knew my limits, I learned when to push them or when to act within the confines of my reality. Confines of my reality-I probably used that phrase at 10. lol. I was too old for my own good. That has carried on into my adult life. I still don't believe in fairy tales. I think that things that are too good, are probably somehow untrue. I believe in the faults and virtues of humans, and I think that the man of my dreams doesn't exist. He can't, b/c in my dreams he is perfectly handsome, impeccably dressed, we are attracted to each other like wild animals, he is a perfect provider, spiritual family head, he is charismatic, funny, outgoing, and can switch his mode from corporate to ghetto at the drop of a hat. We don't fight, we balance each other out, and its all peachy keen at all times. In these same said dreams I have the body of my 20's, hair down my back, and am the envy of all women.
But I know for a fact that this man doesn't exist, because this scenario cannot exist. Marriage is not always peachy keen, its not always any particular way, it ebbs and flows, its high and low, its hard work, and in my dreams there is no work involved.
I guess you could say I'm pessimistic. Especially when it comes to men. My reality is that men are fallible just like me, at some point he will likely fail me, likely hurt my feelings, it might not be intentional but its bound to happen. We're human. We fail. We try but we fall short, and so will the man that I love and so will I. I'll still love him, and hopefully he'll still love me. That's the nature of being human.
So I presume that one day I'll find someone to be human with me. To share the ebb and flow, to enjoy and endure the highs and lows. But I've rarely allowed myself to believe that this man will share my religion. That just seems too much to hope for. To have all the personality points that I desire and share my religion, that man doesn't exist within the confines of my reality.
I've been to a few concerts lately, and from my vantage point seemingly all the attractive men were there with women. Granted, the concerts were Eric Benet and Anthony Hamilton and therefore a perfect destination for couples. Nevertheless, the men/couples that I saw didn't just seem to be on dates, they seemed to be a willing participant in a relationship with a women, a woman who looked something like me. Aside from the occasional roving eye, these seemed like committed coupled up men. Seeing them made the notion of me in a relationship sort of creep up into my reality.
Then on Friday I ran into a friend who was telling me that for the first time in his life he is in a committed relationship, he has an official girl that he actually publicly claims. He is in his mid-twenties, handsome, educated, and this is his first public girlfriend. I asked him what made him decide to finally have this sort of relationship, was it his age or was it b/c of some special quality of this particular woman? He said it was a combo of the two, at this point in his life he's looking for someone with particular qualities, and upon finding them in a package that he likes he decided to lock it down. I'm proud of him, happy for him. Not sure if men actually wanting to be in relationships is a new trend in my reality...
On Saturday I went to a party with my sister, and met some attractive men who seemed to have the personalities that I like, seemed well adjusted and normal, and most strangely of all share my religious beliefs. That's right. That which I dared not allow myself to believe in might actually exist. I still wasn't sure that I believed. Then today I saw those gentleman again, they were still fine, still funny, and then it dawned on me what the problem is with these mythical figures. Because they are so rare, they behave like God's gift. Because women throw themselves at these men, they have an over inflated sense of self. I love confidence bordering on arrogance, but the God's gift mentality is too much for even me. And so the confines of my reality remain in tact...The man I'm looking for who also shares my religion doesn't exist. I'm ok with that. Reality is what it is.
How goes it? Miss me?
So lately I've been thinking lots about relationships and how I don't have one and why, and what the relationships I see are like, how the men I know behave and interact with women (theirs and others) etc...
I was not a "I believe in fairy tales" kind of kid. I didn't play with baby dolls, I wasn't into make believe. I was an only child with relatively older parents. I spent most of my time with adults, eavesdropping on their adult conversations, adult problems, and adult relationships. My parents were of the children are to be seen and not heard school of thought, and one of the benefits of being quiet was that adults thought I wasn't paying attention, or that I didn't understand. Ha! I was a plethora of information. Every now and again my mother would utilize this resource when she was relaying the details of someones business (gossiping)- "Jennifer, where did Mary say her husband went and how long has he been gone?" However, if I volunteered the information b/c she was telling the story wrong...yeah, I got in trouble.
So I grew up a very practical kid with little imagination. I knew there was no way that I was going to get a pony, so I never asked for one. But I knew that I could ask for a TV in my room, I wouldn't likely get it, but they would instead get me some other sort of electronic that I wanted like a stereo. I knew my limits, I learned when to push them or when to act within the confines of my reality. Confines of my reality-I probably used that phrase at 10. lol. I was too old for my own good. That has carried on into my adult life. I still don't believe in fairy tales. I think that things that are too good, are probably somehow untrue. I believe in the faults and virtues of humans, and I think that the man of my dreams doesn't exist. He can't, b/c in my dreams he is perfectly handsome, impeccably dressed, we are attracted to each other like wild animals, he is a perfect provider, spiritual family head, he is charismatic, funny, outgoing, and can switch his mode from corporate to ghetto at the drop of a hat. We don't fight, we balance each other out, and its all peachy keen at all times. In these same said dreams I have the body of my 20's, hair down my back, and am the envy of all women.
But I know for a fact that this man doesn't exist, because this scenario cannot exist. Marriage is not always peachy keen, its not always any particular way, it ebbs and flows, its high and low, its hard work, and in my dreams there is no work involved.
I guess you could say I'm pessimistic. Especially when it comes to men. My reality is that men are fallible just like me, at some point he will likely fail me, likely hurt my feelings, it might not be intentional but its bound to happen. We're human. We fail. We try but we fall short, and so will the man that I love and so will I. I'll still love him, and hopefully he'll still love me. That's the nature of being human.
So I presume that one day I'll find someone to be human with me. To share the ebb and flow, to enjoy and endure the highs and lows. But I've rarely allowed myself to believe that this man will share my religion. That just seems too much to hope for. To have all the personality points that I desire and share my religion, that man doesn't exist within the confines of my reality.
I've been to a few concerts lately, and from my vantage point seemingly all the attractive men were there with women. Granted, the concerts were Eric Benet and Anthony Hamilton and therefore a perfect destination for couples. Nevertheless, the men/couples that I saw didn't just seem to be on dates, they seemed to be a willing participant in a relationship with a women, a woman who looked something like me. Aside from the occasional roving eye, these seemed like committed coupled up men. Seeing them made the notion of me in a relationship sort of creep up into my reality.
Then on Friday I ran into a friend who was telling me that for the first time in his life he is in a committed relationship, he has an official girl that he actually publicly claims. He is in his mid-twenties, handsome, educated, and this is his first public girlfriend. I asked him what made him decide to finally have this sort of relationship, was it his age or was it b/c of some special quality of this particular woman? He said it was a combo of the two, at this point in his life he's looking for someone with particular qualities, and upon finding them in a package that he likes he decided to lock it down. I'm proud of him, happy for him. Not sure if men actually wanting to be in relationships is a new trend in my reality...
On Saturday I went to a party with my sister, and met some attractive men who seemed to have the personalities that I like, seemed well adjusted and normal, and most strangely of all share my religious beliefs. That's right. That which I dared not allow myself to believe in might actually exist. I still wasn't sure that I believed. Then today I saw those gentleman again, they were still fine, still funny, and then it dawned on me what the problem is with these mythical figures. Because they are so rare, they behave like God's gift. Because women throw themselves at these men, they have an over inflated sense of self. I love confidence bordering on arrogance, but the God's gift mentality is too much for even me. And so the confines of my reality remain in tact...The man I'm looking for who also shares my religion doesn't exist. I'm ok with that. Reality is what it is.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
So much....
Topic 1:
I don't think that I can say anything that hasn't been said about what a moment in history this is for our people, this nation, etc. But I think that the one common sentiment is that it is a moving moment. I'm not sure what it means for race relations in this country, to some extent I fear that it means little to nothing. But it seems to me that on November 4, 2008 it meant that the vast majority of people in this country were indifferent to the fact that Barack is a black man. And that's not to say that those that didn't vote for him did so because he is black, to me it just means that most people in this country are completely ok with a black man being the most powerful person in the world.
I have never thought that all white people are racist, my life experience doesn't lend itself to that hypothesis. I have had far to many white best friends, mentors, teachers and professors, etc...to believe that they are all a bunch of hate mongering people. However I'm ashamed to say that for the average white person I encounter I don't put racism past them, especially if I happen to be in a "red state"/bible belt state/south of the Mason-Dixon. So the chip that I carry on my shoulder as soon as I step foot into one of these states may have been an unecessary burden all this time. Who knew? Who knows?
Whatever anyone's feelings on race may be, yesterday I was moved.
Topic 2:
Have you ever been privy to someones life, not close enough that you are involved directly-but close enough that you can't ignore what you are witnessing...and that life that you happen to be witnessing is a series of bad decision-making, and horrible circumstances after another?
I have these neighbors, who I admittedly have been plotting ways to get them as far away from me and my neighborhood as possible for some time now. Since their arrival its been nothing but a parade of social workers, police officers, screaming, fighting, doors slamming, children seemingly left to their own devices, front yard barbques and patio furniture, and a toodler that flees out of his house over to mine every chance he gets...basically its been a mess. As much as they drive me nuts, ruin property value on the street, and make me sad that they are the other black family on the street, my heart goes out to their children-who have no choice about how they are being raised, or the craziness of their parents.
They have a 17 year old daughter, that has had some difficulty in the past (how could she not have) but is now back living with them and back in school, etc. Every now and again she has a screaming fight with her father, but she has remained at the house for a few months. Recently her boyfriend moved into the house. I have never known or heard anyone use the F word more often, more ineffectually, or in lieu of simple words like this "man". Basically he talks to her like she is 1) dumb, 2) his child/property and/or 3) sub-human. I've only heard her argue back to him on a couple occassions and it usually results in his louder usage of the F word. The other day the mother of the house spoke to me to apologize about all the noise (they are so loud its like I live with them-aka my personal nightmare) and explained that she has told her daughter on several occassions to be more respectful to her boyfriend, that she shouldn't disrespect him. Because he is trying to help her by telling her how she should dress, and behave and if she would just listen they wouldn't have problems.
I wanted to cry on the spot. If this is what your mother is telling you, what is your sense of personal value like? How much self respect do you have? What limits for the way you will be treated have you set?
I've been trying to find an appropriate moment to run into the girl to tell her that this is not behavior that she should have to tolerate at 17, or ever! She isn't married to him, he doesn't support her, they don't have kids, there is nothing to tie her to him, and she is worth more then the way he treats her. I feel compelled to express this to her, I don't think anyone has ever told her. But I'm also petrified of the effect of my apparent befriending of her might be...their lives are far too dramatic for me, but how does one get only half way involved?
The girl and her father had a serious screaming match tonight, he put out her boyfriend yesterday, and a few minutes later I saw her stomping down the street with her suitcase, to God only knows where....I wish I would've had the presence of mind to offer her a ride at the time.
I so fear for the young women of this generation, from the neighbor, to the little girls my brothers date, the language and manner of speech they tolerate from these boys is freightening/maddening/infuriating. Then Soulja Boy speaks and I'm not sure if I shouldn't be more worried about the boys.
Topic 3:
So I'm on my "men are the bane of my existence" campaign right now, but I had lunch with a guy friend today that made me have a little more faith in his gender. Granted his explanation of male behavior was contingent on them being thinking, rational beings, so clearly his thesis was flawed from there. :) But it did settle down my venom somewhat, he reminded me that you aren't all bad. He did point out however that all the ones I deal with are in fact bad...so you know that was an insightful new novel theory.
Topic 4:
I have 'happened' upon some free internet music, including Beyonce's album, but my stupid old computer can't burn the freaking disc....I cannot express what a tease this is. I can listen to it on my computer only!!!!! Not the car, not loud enough for the house, only while sitting on my lap as I work. Some might say that is what I get for 'happening' upon such free internet music...to those some I roll my eyes!
I don't think that I can say anything that hasn't been said about what a moment in history this is for our people, this nation, etc. But I think that the one common sentiment is that it is a moving moment. I'm not sure what it means for race relations in this country, to some extent I fear that it means little to nothing. But it seems to me that on November 4, 2008 it meant that the vast majority of people in this country were indifferent to the fact that Barack is a black man. And that's not to say that those that didn't vote for him did so because he is black, to me it just means that most people in this country are completely ok with a black man being the most powerful person in the world.
I have never thought that all white people are racist, my life experience doesn't lend itself to that hypothesis. I have had far to many white best friends, mentors, teachers and professors, etc...to believe that they are all a bunch of hate mongering people. However I'm ashamed to say that for the average white person I encounter I don't put racism past them, especially if I happen to be in a "red state"/bible belt state/south of the Mason-Dixon. So the chip that I carry on my shoulder as soon as I step foot into one of these states may have been an unecessary burden all this time. Who knew? Who knows?
Whatever anyone's feelings on race may be, yesterday I was moved.
Topic 2:
Have you ever been privy to someones life, not close enough that you are involved directly-but close enough that you can't ignore what you are witnessing...and that life that you happen to be witnessing is a series of bad decision-making, and horrible circumstances after another?
I have these neighbors, who I admittedly have been plotting ways to get them as far away from me and my neighborhood as possible for some time now. Since their arrival its been nothing but a parade of social workers, police officers, screaming, fighting, doors slamming, children seemingly left to their own devices, front yard barbques and patio furniture, and a toodler that flees out of his house over to mine every chance he gets...basically its been a mess. As much as they drive me nuts, ruin property value on the street, and make me sad that they are the other black family on the street, my heart goes out to their children-who have no choice about how they are being raised, or the craziness of their parents.
They have a 17 year old daughter, that has had some difficulty in the past (how could she not have) but is now back living with them and back in school, etc. Every now and again she has a screaming fight with her father, but she has remained at the house for a few months. Recently her boyfriend moved into the house. I have never known or heard anyone use the F word more often, more ineffectually, or in lieu of simple words like this "man". Basically he talks to her like she is 1) dumb, 2) his child/property and/or 3) sub-human. I've only heard her argue back to him on a couple occassions and it usually results in his louder usage of the F word. The other day the mother of the house spoke to me to apologize about all the noise (they are so loud its like I live with them-aka my personal nightmare) and explained that she has told her daughter on several occassions to be more respectful to her boyfriend, that she shouldn't disrespect him. Because he is trying to help her by telling her how she should dress, and behave and if she would just listen they wouldn't have problems.
I wanted to cry on the spot. If this is what your mother is telling you, what is your sense of personal value like? How much self respect do you have? What limits for the way you will be treated have you set?
I've been trying to find an appropriate moment to run into the girl to tell her that this is not behavior that she should have to tolerate at 17, or ever! She isn't married to him, he doesn't support her, they don't have kids, there is nothing to tie her to him, and she is worth more then the way he treats her. I feel compelled to express this to her, I don't think anyone has ever told her. But I'm also petrified of the effect of my apparent befriending of her might be...their lives are far too dramatic for me, but how does one get only half way involved?
The girl and her father had a serious screaming match tonight, he put out her boyfriend yesterday, and a few minutes later I saw her stomping down the street with her suitcase, to God only knows where....I wish I would've had the presence of mind to offer her a ride at the time.
I so fear for the young women of this generation, from the neighbor, to the little girls my brothers date, the language and manner of speech they tolerate from these boys is freightening/maddening/infuriating. Then Soulja Boy speaks and I'm not sure if I shouldn't be more worried about the boys.
Topic 3:
So I'm on my "men are the bane of my existence" campaign right now, but I had lunch with a guy friend today that made me have a little more faith in his gender. Granted his explanation of male behavior was contingent on them being thinking, rational beings, so clearly his thesis was flawed from there. :) But it did settle down my venom somewhat, he reminded me that you aren't all bad. He did point out however that all the ones I deal with are in fact bad...so you know that was an insightful new novel theory.
Topic 4:
I have 'happened' upon some free internet music, including Beyonce's album, but my stupid old computer can't burn the freaking disc....I cannot express what a tease this is. I can listen to it on my computer only!!!!! Not the car, not loud enough for the house, only while sitting on my lap as I work. Some might say that is what I get for 'happening' upon such free internet music...to those some I roll my eyes!
Monday, October 06, 2008
I'm here to help you, help me...
I'm not that old. I'm not 21 but I'm not all that far from it either. In those years since 21 I have my put my time in at various night spots in various cities with various people. In my years of going out, there are various rules and regulations that I think must be followed to ensure a pleasant evening for all.
First let me say it is imperative that you the go-er outer decide prior to the outing that you are going to have a good time. My years of partying with white ppl have taught me that you can have a good time anywhere, as long as they sell alcohol, and....well actually that's it. I have found through years of careful study that many black ppl have all these conditions, and circumstances that must occur in order for them to have a good time. 4 specific songs must be played in a specific order and at a certain decible level, there must be a certain ratio of men to women, pricing of alcohol must be within a certain range, and everyone in attendance must be black-obvs, etc, etc, etc. It is infuriating, makes me hate you, and never invite you anywhere ever again.
So let me break it down for you in steps:
Step 1: Decide to go out and have a good time with friends. Regardless of who is there, remember you are with ppl that you like and enjoy the company of. Therefore all other things being equal you should be more then capable of having a good time. Unless you don't like these ppl, in which case, don't go out with them.
If you are the invited...
Step 2: Ask where the place is (address, name, vicinity-NOT directions), and what is the attire. DO NOT ask what every single person in the group is going to wear, DO NOT call the night of the event and ask directions to the establishment-you have the name of the place, you have the internet-if you don't you don't need to be going out anyway, you have other priorities like catching up to 2008. If you hate this place but have NO OTHER suggestions, do not complain about the place. You only get to complain if you are ready and willing to offer an acceptable alternate location...even then, if you are vetoed-get over it, and have a good time.
Step 3: Make logical travel/arrival arrangements. If you live next door to the place don't drive two counties in the opposite direction just to carpool, so you won't have to walk in by yourself (if you are an adult why can't you walk into a place by yourself????? How do you grocery shop? Go to Target? Get gas? Go to work? Unless you are a siamese twin going places alone should be a part of your daily routine). Also, if the plan is to meet at 10p don't call/text at 9:45 with modified arrangements usually involving someone waiting on you, or picking you up. And if you know, that you have to pick up little johnny from his grandmother, or have an early morning appt and you need the sleep-DON'T CARPOOL! No one is going to want to leave as early as you have to, and you shouldn't put ppl in that position-drive your own car.
Step 4: Be prepared to pay. Going out involves money. There is the valet, or parking of some sort, there is the possible cost of admittance, there are drinks to buy, tips to give. Do not be the person so pressed to hold onto cash that you are parking 10 blocks away (we're too old for that), breaking your neck and cursing out ppl in your party in a futile attempt to arrive before 10 or whatever arbitrary time the promoter has set up to taunt ppl (there is no way to make it before the time-they set it up that way, its a trick to get the line full early-however i guarantee they will hold you in that line until its time to pay...you might as well just get there when you get there), not buying a drink because you claim not to want one, until someone else in the party takes pity on you and buys you a drink but you never reciprocate the favor (stop frontin' and buy a dag on glass of SOMETHING-even water). Additionally, just because you didn't drive doesn't mean that parking is free! In fact you should more inclined to pay for parking since your gas was spared-chip in on parking-its a sin to make a person drive and pay for their own parking.
Step 5: Be easy. Enjoy the music, talk to a stranger about something random, dance to your favorite song when its played, when a 90's song comes on do a 90's dance, talk about ppl, be lively-even if you don't feel like it, if not then go home you are under no obligation to stay. If you are a light weight, don't try to out-do yourself, just b/c this is your one outing doesn't mean the rest of the party-goers want to take care of you.
If you are the Invitee
Step 2: Chose a location and time and dissemenate this information ahead of time. Don't make general allegations of a plan-"Let's meet up after _____ for drinks". This is not making plans unless you follow this up with concrete details re: time and place. Furthermore, if you have no ideas about where to go, don't poo-poo all other suggestions. Nor should you plan an event and then expect someone else to give you the perfect location-again, you have the internet do some research, and even if you make a poor choice try to have a back up plan and keep in mind that you are with your buddies so you should be able to have fun anywhere.
Step 3-5: Follow the same steps as above.
Because I go out frequently I often encounter ppl who would like to join me in my exploits. I'm thinking of making these steps into a legally binding contract. You will not be welcome to join me until you sign the aforementioned. Is that rude?
First let me say it is imperative that you the go-er outer decide prior to the outing that you are going to have a good time. My years of partying with white ppl have taught me that you can have a good time anywhere, as long as they sell alcohol, and....well actually that's it. I have found through years of careful study that many black ppl have all these conditions, and circumstances that must occur in order for them to have a good time. 4 specific songs must be played in a specific order and at a certain decible level, there must be a certain ratio of men to women, pricing of alcohol must be within a certain range, and everyone in attendance must be black-obvs, etc, etc, etc. It is infuriating, makes me hate you, and never invite you anywhere ever again.
So let me break it down for you in steps:
Step 1: Decide to go out and have a good time with friends. Regardless of who is there, remember you are with ppl that you like and enjoy the company of. Therefore all other things being equal you should be more then capable of having a good time. Unless you don't like these ppl, in which case, don't go out with them.
If you are the invited...
Step 2: Ask where the place is (address, name, vicinity-NOT directions), and what is the attire. DO NOT ask what every single person in the group is going to wear, DO NOT call the night of the event and ask directions to the establishment-you have the name of the place, you have the internet-if you don't you don't need to be going out anyway, you have other priorities like catching up to 2008. If you hate this place but have NO OTHER suggestions, do not complain about the place. You only get to complain if you are ready and willing to offer an acceptable alternate location...even then, if you are vetoed-get over it, and have a good time.
Step 3: Make logical travel/arrival arrangements. If you live next door to the place don't drive two counties in the opposite direction just to carpool, so you won't have to walk in by yourself (if you are an adult why can't you walk into a place by yourself????? How do you grocery shop? Go to Target? Get gas? Go to work? Unless you are a siamese twin going places alone should be a part of your daily routine). Also, if the plan is to meet at 10p don't call/text at 9:45 with modified arrangements usually involving someone waiting on you, or picking you up. And if you know, that you have to pick up little johnny from his grandmother, or have an early morning appt and you need the sleep-DON'T CARPOOL! No one is going to want to leave as early as you have to, and you shouldn't put ppl in that position-drive your own car.
Step 4: Be prepared to pay. Going out involves money. There is the valet, or parking of some sort, there is the possible cost of admittance, there are drinks to buy, tips to give. Do not be the person so pressed to hold onto cash that you are parking 10 blocks away (we're too old for that), breaking your neck and cursing out ppl in your party in a futile attempt to arrive before 10 or whatever arbitrary time the promoter has set up to taunt ppl (there is no way to make it before the time-they set it up that way, its a trick to get the line full early-however i guarantee they will hold you in that line until its time to pay...you might as well just get there when you get there), not buying a drink because you claim not to want one, until someone else in the party takes pity on you and buys you a drink but you never reciprocate the favor (stop frontin' and buy a dag on glass of SOMETHING-even water). Additionally, just because you didn't drive doesn't mean that parking is free! In fact you should more inclined to pay for parking since your gas was spared-chip in on parking-its a sin to make a person drive and pay for their own parking.
Step 5: Be easy. Enjoy the music, talk to a stranger about something random, dance to your favorite song when its played, when a 90's song comes on do a 90's dance, talk about ppl, be lively-even if you don't feel like it, if not then go home you are under no obligation to stay. If you are a light weight, don't try to out-do yourself, just b/c this is your one outing doesn't mean the rest of the party-goers want to take care of you.
If you are the Invitee
Step 2: Chose a location and time and dissemenate this information ahead of time. Don't make general allegations of a plan-"Let's meet up after _____ for drinks". This is not making plans unless you follow this up with concrete details re: time and place. Furthermore, if you have no ideas about where to go, don't poo-poo all other suggestions. Nor should you plan an event and then expect someone else to give you the perfect location-again, you have the internet do some research, and even if you make a poor choice try to have a back up plan and keep in mind that you are with your buddies so you should be able to have fun anywhere.
Step 3-5: Follow the same steps as above.
Because I go out frequently I often encounter ppl who would like to join me in my exploits. I'm thinking of making these steps into a legally binding contract. You will not be welcome to join me until you sign the aforementioned. Is that rude?
Monday, September 22, 2008
Euphemisms...
As some of you may know I like cleavage. I am fortunate enough to have an ample supply and from time to time (read: pretty much all the time excluding church) I like to "display" if you will that with which I have been blessed. I was recently told by a good christian man that I had been blessed by God, as he fell face first into the ravine that is my ample bossom. I was amused.
Over the weekend an acquantince mentioned that he was sorting his photos and came across photos of me from the very same night-his roommate then chimed in..."I knew I recognized you from somewhere". The evening we had this conversation I was all covered up, "modest" as I like to call it. As I explained my modesty, my acquaintence replied, "You can't hide a table with a table cloth." Brilliant. He and I are now friends, and this is my favorite quote. As he explained there are many variations of the same point-you can't hide a bed with a sheet, you can't hide a circus with a tent, etc, etc, etc. I love them all...the circus might be my second favorite.
The next night we went to one of my favorite hangouts-The Abbey. For new readers/non LA readers, The Abbey is this beautiful gay bar in West Hollywood (AKA-Boys Town), and Sunday is black night at the Abbey. Less techno and more hip hop is played, and black men are in more then usual abundance. My girls and I agreed that it was an incredibly sad night. This was the largest grouping of sexy, tall, black men we had ever seen in LA in one place at one time (this might be a slight exaggeration the UCLA Reggaefest is pretty prime as well). All of them dressed to the nines, bodies of perfection, some manicured to a fault others looking more manly then the straightest of straight men. It was a sight to behold. And explained the lack of tall, sexy men at my hetero clubs...sigh. Despite the sadness of it all, it was fun...people watching at its best. I'm only confused by the amazingly convincing transvestites and/or cross dressers...if you want to be a woman why are you here seeking a gay man...I guess its because they still have the parts but its still a point of confusion for me. But I guess its none of my business, and none of my concern. I just gotta make sure that I don't end up on a date with someone I recognize from the Abbey.
All in all it was a lovely weekend...I'm watching "Raising the Bar" on TNT, and the guy who played Ricki on "My So Called Life", is on the show...and he looks AMAZING! I mean he is still tiny and super gay, but he looks good!
Over the weekend an acquantince mentioned that he was sorting his photos and came across photos of me from the very same night-his roommate then chimed in..."I knew I recognized you from somewhere". The evening we had this conversation I was all covered up, "modest" as I like to call it. As I explained my modesty, my acquaintence replied, "You can't hide a table with a table cloth." Brilliant. He and I are now friends, and this is my favorite quote. As he explained there are many variations of the same point-you can't hide a bed with a sheet, you can't hide a circus with a tent, etc, etc, etc. I love them all...the circus might be my second favorite.
The next night we went to one of my favorite hangouts-The Abbey. For new readers/non LA readers, The Abbey is this beautiful gay bar in West Hollywood (AKA-Boys Town), and Sunday is black night at the Abbey. Less techno and more hip hop is played, and black men are in more then usual abundance. My girls and I agreed that it was an incredibly sad night. This was the largest grouping of sexy, tall, black men we had ever seen in LA in one place at one time (this might be a slight exaggeration the UCLA Reggaefest is pretty prime as well). All of them dressed to the nines, bodies of perfection, some manicured to a fault others looking more manly then the straightest of straight men. It was a sight to behold. And explained the lack of tall, sexy men at my hetero clubs...sigh. Despite the sadness of it all, it was fun...people watching at its best. I'm only confused by the amazingly convincing transvestites and/or cross dressers...if you want to be a woman why are you here seeking a gay man...I guess its because they still have the parts but its still a point of confusion for me. But I guess its none of my business, and none of my concern. I just gotta make sure that I don't end up on a date with someone I recognize from the Abbey.
All in all it was a lovely weekend...I'm watching "Raising the Bar" on TNT, and the guy who played Ricki on "My So Called Life", is on the show...and he looks AMAZING! I mean he is still tiny and super gay, but he looks good!
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Blown Away...
I haven't had much to say to/from/at the blog lately. I think it is because so much of what is on my mind is rather negative and kind of whiny and I just haven't felt like putting all that into the atmosphere. Ya know?
I have a tendancy to do this. I prefer to pretend that everything is ok, mostly b/c I know that sooner rather then later it will be-so what's the use in dwelling. And then after resolution I deal with whatever emotions are left over-usually none. See its a brilliant way to deal with emotions-no muss no fuss.
I miss my Virginia family. As much as I complained about being there. And Lord knows I did some complaining. I had an amazing family take me in and allow me to treat thier home as my own-I need to plan to see them sometime soon.
My bestest is coming to town. I'm hype. I love when she visits. But I always feel so bad for her, because she gets pulled in so many different directions. She has so many ppl to see in such a short period of time, family, friends, there are the obligations and the things that she would like to do, and of course the rest that she doesn't get. It seems less like a vacation and more like a schedule she has to strictly adhere to. But as is her nature she handles it all with a smile.
My mom called me the other day to tell me about a conversation she had with some mothers of some boys I knew growing up. The other moms revealed to my mom that thier sons had crushes on me during our formative/teenage/young-adult years. My mother was astounded by this, like she simply could not believe that these two could possibly like me of all ppl in the world. I was like i'm sorry should I be offended...have you not seen me? Why is this such a shock to you? She replies no I'm not shocked about someone liking you, i'm shocked about them liking you-have they not seen themselves? In what world would they ever be good enough for you? Do you remember what they looked like? She then follows that up with-I mean i'm sure they have fine spiritual qualities and that's what you should be looking for anyway, but i'm just saying! People always wonder where me and my sister get it from...good ole Jackie...we came by it naturally.
I haven't been watching enough football. Hopefully tomorrow night I'll get to watch the game.
Good night and good luck.
I have a tendancy to do this. I prefer to pretend that everything is ok, mostly b/c I know that sooner rather then later it will be-so what's the use in dwelling. And then after resolution I deal with whatever emotions are left over-usually none. See its a brilliant way to deal with emotions-no muss no fuss.
I miss my Virginia family. As much as I complained about being there. And Lord knows I did some complaining. I had an amazing family take me in and allow me to treat thier home as my own-I need to plan to see them sometime soon.
My bestest is coming to town. I'm hype. I love when she visits. But I always feel so bad for her, because she gets pulled in so many different directions. She has so many ppl to see in such a short period of time, family, friends, there are the obligations and the things that she would like to do, and of course the rest that she doesn't get. It seems less like a vacation and more like a schedule she has to strictly adhere to. But as is her nature she handles it all with a smile.
My mom called me the other day to tell me about a conversation she had with some mothers of some boys I knew growing up. The other moms revealed to my mom that thier sons had crushes on me during our formative/teenage/young-adult years. My mother was astounded by this, like she simply could not believe that these two could possibly like me of all ppl in the world. I was like i'm sorry should I be offended...have you not seen me? Why is this such a shock to you? She replies no I'm not shocked about someone liking you, i'm shocked about them liking you-have they not seen themselves? In what world would they ever be good enough for you? Do you remember what they looked like? She then follows that up with-I mean i'm sure they have fine spiritual qualities and that's what you should be looking for anyway, but i'm just saying! People always wonder where me and my sister get it from...good ole Jackie...we came by it naturally.
I haven't been watching enough football. Hopefully tomorrow night I'll get to watch the game.
Good night and good luck.
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Absentia....
HEY!!!
I have a religious retreat this weekend, and I literally have nothing to wear tomorrow. I hate that feeling. Isn't it sad that none of my newer clothes are long enough, have a high enough neck line, or cover enough skin to wear to a religious event. Sheesh. Apparently I need some religion bad since apparently I only shop to go to the club these days.
Speaking of the club, I loathe this one particular club, one particular bouncer in LA. He is so blatantly white only selective that he makes me crazy. If your a white girl in a little piece of nothing, or even a not that attractive white girl with a gut...you are in. If you have a darker complexion-non white (although some Asian women are acceptable-but in LA they share most of the rights and privileges of the white girls) you can bet you will be ignored. I have only been to this club one other time, a friend was visiting out from out of town wanted the celeb hollywood experience and this place was sure to give it to her. We waited forever with every other colored girl, while every single white girl of any variety, dressed in any style was allowed in upon appearance. When we finally got in I commented that perhaps we wouldn't have had to wait so long if we were white...He pretended to get an attitude. Anyway I tried the club again b/c there was an event there, that had a list. My girlfriend and I signed up, got on the list +2. Voila, should have been no muss no fuss. Yeah, not so much. My friend who I deem "universally attractive" (meaning white, black, mexican, persian, other men are all into her) and is persian/indian got as much non attention as I did. She was outraged, I was hot but determined not to allow him to ruin my evening. We went to a nearby bar had a blast anyway and plotted ways to ruin that little man's life. The "power" that door guys think they have...he is the worst kind of example of that crap.
Sarah Palin makes me almost vomit. So does John McCain. So do Republicans. Its not that Dems are so much better or really different for that matter. But at least they are able to hide their contempt for the common man a little better, Repubs don't even try-"we love rich ppl, we will make you richer on the backs of whatever poor downtrodden we can find. Also, rah rah Jesus". Monkeys.
Speaking of Jesus-I love gospel music! But only on the low...and really i only know like 2 Gospels songs, including God is Tryna Tell you Something which is the Color Purple. But yeah I can admit it, I'm a closet gospel fan....Don't tell my Granny..or mom.
Speaking of my mom, we are all going on a family vacation to Myrtle Beach in December-Xmas week in fact. I think it might be fun...but how does one go to the beach and dress modestly? T-shirt, shorts? Do they make high-necked bathing suits? My mom, gotta love her.
Its football season!!!!!! YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA! I'm hype.
I have two friends that are in love and some stuff...One is planning a wedding the other has started to talk about the possibility of getting married. Its super cute for both of them. I'm really happy for them, and I think their relationships do melt a little of my cold blackened heart :)...but I hadn't listened to India Aire's Acoustic Soul in a minute. Listening to it the other day, the last verse of the song "Promises" reminded me of the two of them...It's so nice to know-even only by a degree of separation-a couple of gentleman who keep their word. Its refreshing news.
"Her wedding day and she's thinking ‘bout the way he won her affection
She was so cynical about love ‘cause she didn't want to be heart broken again
He looked her in her eye with sincerity, said he only wanted to protect her so she
Took a chance on him and she's glad she did because he came for real
And he did, just what he said, for that she'll love him forever
He kept his word to her, for that she'll love him forever"
Hope all is well...
I have a religious retreat this weekend, and I literally have nothing to wear tomorrow. I hate that feeling. Isn't it sad that none of my newer clothes are long enough, have a high enough neck line, or cover enough skin to wear to a religious event. Sheesh. Apparently I need some religion bad since apparently I only shop to go to the club these days.
Speaking of the club, I loathe this one particular club, one particular bouncer in LA. He is so blatantly white only selective that he makes me crazy. If your a white girl in a little piece of nothing, or even a not that attractive white girl with a gut...you are in. If you have a darker complexion-non white (although some Asian women are acceptable-but in LA they share most of the rights and privileges of the white girls) you can bet you will be ignored. I have only been to this club one other time, a friend was visiting out from out of town wanted the celeb hollywood experience and this place was sure to give it to her. We waited forever with every other colored girl, while every single white girl of any variety, dressed in any style was allowed in upon appearance. When we finally got in I commented that perhaps we wouldn't have had to wait so long if we were white...He pretended to get an attitude. Anyway I tried the club again b/c there was an event there, that had a list. My girlfriend and I signed up, got on the list +2. Voila, should have been no muss no fuss. Yeah, not so much. My friend who I deem "universally attractive" (meaning white, black, mexican, persian, other men are all into her) and is persian/indian got as much non attention as I did. She was outraged, I was hot but determined not to allow him to ruin my evening. We went to a nearby bar had a blast anyway and plotted ways to ruin that little man's life. The "power" that door guys think they have...he is the worst kind of example of that crap.
Sarah Palin makes me almost vomit. So does John McCain. So do Republicans. Its not that Dems are so much better or really different for that matter. But at least they are able to hide their contempt for the common man a little better, Repubs don't even try-"we love rich ppl, we will make you richer on the backs of whatever poor downtrodden we can find. Also, rah rah Jesus". Monkeys.
Speaking of Jesus-I love gospel music! But only on the low...and really i only know like 2 Gospels songs, including God is Tryna Tell you Something which is the Color Purple. But yeah I can admit it, I'm a closet gospel fan....Don't tell my Granny..or mom.
Speaking of my mom, we are all going on a family vacation to Myrtle Beach in December-Xmas week in fact. I think it might be fun...but how does one go to the beach and dress modestly? T-shirt, shorts? Do they make high-necked bathing suits? My mom, gotta love her.
Its football season!!!!!! YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA! I'm hype.
I have two friends that are in love and some stuff...One is planning a wedding the other has started to talk about the possibility of getting married. Its super cute for both of them. I'm really happy for them, and I think their relationships do melt a little of my cold blackened heart :)...but I hadn't listened to India Aire's Acoustic Soul in a minute. Listening to it the other day, the last verse of the song "Promises" reminded me of the two of them...It's so nice to know-even only by a degree of separation-a couple of gentleman who keep their word. Its refreshing news.
"Her wedding day and she's thinking ‘bout the way he won her affection
She was so cynical about love ‘cause she didn't want to be heart broken again
He looked her in her eye with sincerity, said he only wanted to protect her so she
Took a chance on him and she's glad she did because he came for real
And he did, just what he said, for that she'll love him forever
He kept his word to her, for that she'll love him forever"
Hope all is well...
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
June
Gosh I haven't even posted in June...the beginning of the month was spent preparing for my trip to St. Maarten, then there was the trip, then I got back and had a bunch of work to catch up on...and now here I am.
Hi.
I love vacation, it is one of the main reasons that I work. I like the ability to go where I want when I want, see the world, see the people of the world, and lay on as many different beaches as possible.
Yeah that's right, I'm black and I love to tan. Not like year round, tanning bed craziness. More like I enjoy laying on the beach soaking up sun. And man o man did I soak up some sun in St. Maarten. The beaches are beautiful, the water is clear, the people are so nice, and the men there love me, alcohol is super cheap...its sublime. I wonder aloud all the time-why is it that I don't live on an island? Then I remember-the one main two lane road on the entire island, the peoples general lack of urgency, the ridiculous tourists, and my inability to appreciate a "slow paced" life.
All in all the trip was great, my co-travelers were fantastic, we ate, we drank, we partied, we rested, did a little bit of everything-it was a very well balanced trip. We decided (and asked) that the employees of the resorts must at least occassionally score with some of the tourist women. Because lord knows they spit game HARD, I felt like I should tip them for the compliments alone. They wouldn't respond to my query about how often they score with the drunken women at the resort I imagine it couldn't be that hard...fulfilling the mandingo fantasy of some drunken suburban housewife-like shooting fish in a barrel.
After the islands I went to NY to visit JAC for a bit. I cannot recall every seeing so many sexy men in the same city in the same weekend. It was big backs as far as mine eye could see. I don't know how I would handle myself if I lived there...I felt like I was on a farm where they grew tall, thick, big backs-aka my dreamland. Granted whether they possessed the other attributes important to me is a mystery, but my my were they easy on my eyes.
I also went out in NY. First to a rooftop bar-230 Fifth- and then to 40/40. Both were very nice, I had a good time. Not all that much different from going out in LA-except the line to get into the bar was much longer, and 40/40 has no cover charge all night...therefore almost all black ppl in NY were at the club during the exact moment that I was there. I was completely surrounded by ppl, the dude behind me was dancing with me, i was just standing in my spot trying not to get knocked over. I lasted all of 5 minutes and then it was a wrap. I can't be that surrounded, its too hot and all I can think about is how I will be trampled in the event of a fire.
Now I'm home. Back to my bed, my car, my dog...not all bad, but it was nice not working, not having mail (I loathe post office mail-email me or leave me alone), and just being elsewhere.
To you: I literally ache for you. I can only imagine what you are feeling/going through. It blows and you, of all people, don't deserve it. You are in my prayers. I want to believe that someone somewhere can be/is successful at this endeavor, that belief is becoming harder and harder keep up. But you're better then me in that regard (and many others) so I know that you will keep the faith for both of us.
Also, pure white hennessy is the truth!
Hi.
I love vacation, it is one of the main reasons that I work. I like the ability to go where I want when I want, see the world, see the people of the world, and lay on as many different beaches as possible.
Yeah that's right, I'm black and I love to tan. Not like year round, tanning bed craziness. More like I enjoy laying on the beach soaking up sun. And man o man did I soak up some sun in St. Maarten. The beaches are beautiful, the water is clear, the people are so nice, and the men there love me, alcohol is super cheap...its sublime. I wonder aloud all the time-why is it that I don't live on an island? Then I remember-the one main two lane road on the entire island, the peoples general lack of urgency, the ridiculous tourists, and my inability to appreciate a "slow paced" life.
All in all the trip was great, my co-travelers were fantastic, we ate, we drank, we partied, we rested, did a little bit of everything-it was a very well balanced trip. We decided (and asked) that the employees of the resorts must at least occassionally score with some of the tourist women. Because lord knows they spit game HARD, I felt like I should tip them for the compliments alone. They wouldn't respond to my query about how often they score with the drunken women at the resort I imagine it couldn't be that hard...fulfilling the mandingo fantasy of some drunken suburban housewife-like shooting fish in a barrel.
After the islands I went to NY to visit JAC for a bit. I cannot recall every seeing so many sexy men in the same city in the same weekend. It was big backs as far as mine eye could see. I don't know how I would handle myself if I lived there...I felt like I was on a farm where they grew tall, thick, big backs-aka my dreamland. Granted whether they possessed the other attributes important to me is a mystery, but my my were they easy on my eyes.
I also went out in NY. First to a rooftop bar-230 Fifth- and then to 40/40. Both were very nice, I had a good time. Not all that much different from going out in LA-except the line to get into the bar was much longer, and 40/40 has no cover charge all night...therefore almost all black ppl in NY were at the club during the exact moment that I was there. I was completely surrounded by ppl, the dude behind me was dancing with me, i was just standing in my spot trying not to get knocked over. I lasted all of 5 minutes and then it was a wrap. I can't be that surrounded, its too hot and all I can think about is how I will be trampled in the event of a fire.
Now I'm home. Back to my bed, my car, my dog...not all bad, but it was nice not working, not having mail (I loathe post office mail-email me or leave me alone), and just being elsewhere.
To you: I literally ache for you. I can only imagine what you are feeling/going through. It blows and you, of all people, don't deserve it. You are in my prayers. I want to believe that someone somewhere can be/is successful at this endeavor, that belief is becoming harder and harder keep up. But you're better then me in that regard (and many others) so I know that you will keep the faith for both of us.
Also, pure white hennessy is the truth!
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Game 101
Let's discuss Game, shall we.
I'm sure this is a conceited thing to say but i've never been on a date wherein I wasn't in complete control. That is to say in a contest of who had more game...the obvious answer was me.
Tonight I met my match. In fact I am certain that I was outgamed, out thought, out impressed. In a land of dreamers and wannabes I'm a successful young woman with all her own, I need not from any man. But tonight, tonight I was the one who was impressed, I was the one who was thrown off her game, the one shook. Shook. I was actually shook.
Anyhow-I had a great date with the restaurant conceptualist, and older men may in fact be for me...forget about these young men...lead me, show me something new, kind sir.
I'm sure this is a conceited thing to say but i've never been on a date wherein I wasn't in complete control. That is to say in a contest of who had more game...the obvious answer was me.
Tonight I met my match. In fact I am certain that I was outgamed, out thought, out impressed. In a land of dreamers and wannabes I'm a successful young woman with all her own, I need not from any man. But tonight, tonight I was the one who was impressed, I was the one who was thrown off her game, the one shook. Shook. I was actually shook.
Anyhow-I had a great date with the restaurant conceptualist, and older men may in fact be for me...forget about these young men...lead me, show me something new, kind sir.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Bianca my Belle...
Everyone knows I love LA. I also love my car and driving. Generally having a car in LA is sometimes problematic. I could never say that I hate driving in this city, but there are definitely times that driving in LA is more of a burden then a pleasure.
Last night was not one such time.
Not many people were out, no police were out...it was perfect. I drove fast just because, I raced ppl who thought they could keep up, I weaved between cars just because I could. It was beautiful. Just driving around town I forget how powerful Bianca (my car) is, I forget that she is in fact a race car. Last night it all came back to me.
I feel back in love with my car again last night...she is the ultimate driving machine. I am forever a German engineering kinda girl.
Last night was not one such time.
Not many people were out, no police were out...it was perfect. I drove fast just because, I raced ppl who thought they could keep up, I weaved between cars just because I could. It was beautiful. Just driving around town I forget how powerful Bianca (my car) is, I forget that she is in fact a race car. Last night it all came back to me.
I feel back in love with my car again last night...she is the ultimate driving machine. I am forever a German engineering kinda girl.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Dagblasted Fresno...
Something about being in SF makes me feel the need to blog...maybe its the being in a new place feeling like I'm on a quick mini vacation.
Anyhow I got up at 3:30 this morning. Three-Thirty in the am...umhmm the same time that I'm often getting home is the time I had to get out of the bed this morning. Even my dog was like yeah you're on your own with all that waking up business, she looked up at me, then turned back around in her doggy bed.
I managed to get myself put together pretty quickly-due to elaborate preparation from the night before, every article of clothing laid out for me to put on, hair curled the night before, simple makeup thrown in my purse, I cannot be asked to think that time of morning. Out the house by 4 at the airport by 4:15, and sitting at my gate by 4:40. Clearly I overestimated the various lines to get into LAX for my 6am flight. So I passed the time ppl watching and talking to my parents.
After discovering that the flight is delayed, I'm chatting with the girl next to me about how I'm going to Fresno, she queries about why I didn't just fly into Fresno-"what!!?? There is an airport in Fresno, they told me I had to fly to Oakland! This is what happens when I don't do my own research." I am indignant. Then she mentions that the train I'm planning on taking to Fresno doesn't go that far. I hear her talking but she seems dingy so I'm not all that concerned, plus "they" told me that the train took them to Fresno for court just a couple weeks ago.
After the delay I arrive in Oakland at 8:10, I'm supposed to be in court in Fresno at 9am. I ask the first rent-a-cop I see at the airport whether it'll be quicker to take the train to Fresno or a cab. He looks at me and is like do you know how far Fresno is from here. I say no, but think to myself-if I knew the answer to that would I be asking you this question. He then explains while laughing at me that the train absolutely does not go to Fresno, that I couldn't have seen that online, and that I would never make it for my 9am appt. Bullocks! Being that I planned out this trip yesterday, looking online to see where the train would drop me off vs. where the courthouse was I could not fathom that I could have been so misdirected (read: wrong). So I persevered on, despite the rent-a-cops kind albeit mocking/kidnappy assertion that if he were getting off from work he'd take me on the 2 hour drive to Fresno himself, to the information counter grabbed a train map and hoped on the bus to the train-either way I had to get on the train b/c the only other plan for today was to have lunch with my girlfriend and she was in SF which is Definitely on the train route. I sit down on the bus break out the train map and sure enough no Fresno anywhere-oh crappity, crappit, crap. I break out my detailed plans that I obtained from the trusty internet yesterday and confirm-yep I'm supposed to be on Park Paseo Dr. FREMONT, CA at 9am.
Dang.
Fremont.
Lo and behold Fremont is clearly a train stop, doesn't have an airport and I'm an idiot working off of little sleep.
My colleague informed me that the train stop to court was a good little walk, the internet confirmed its about a half mile, and while granted that is walkable. I am not that kinda girl, so I call ahead to have a taxi meet me there. Besides the flight delay set me back timewise and I did not have the time or patience to be trying to hoof it. I get in the cab and tell him where I'm going in his thick middle eastern accent he informs me not so nicely that the courthouse is right on the corner...no one takes a cab to the courthouse b/c its so close...its just right there...ppl normally walk...its not a long walk...
I finally informed him-i am not ppl, the two lefts and one right turn he made indicate it is NOT on the corner, and most importantly I didn't want to walk! Sheesh. Can't a girl take a cab in peace!
I hadn't missed my case which was great, sat in court for literally hours! Finally finished that and headed back on the train to SF. This big guy sat behind me. I love the big boys don't get it twisted but I should not be able to hear you breath as if you are breathing in my ear after a long run around the block from a rabid dog and his murderous kkk owner.
Get to SF, and am standing in front of my girls job, which is apparently the only non sex shop on the street. Convenient for someone I presume. While waiting on the street for her to come down, apparently moved by all the adult toys around me I literally showed my behind to some unsuspecting little asian man. Yeah he saw my full, bare, bum. I forget that SF is not LA, a flirty little lightweight skirt will get blown over your head or up to your chest in my case...just ask the unsuspecting asian man.
We had a great lunch and I managed to keep my no-no parts to myself for the rest of the afternoon-which was no small feat.
Per usual SF was fab. Too bad I didn't get to shop. My friend and I vowed that the next time I came we would get a hotel and spend some time drinking and chillin-the girl knows me what can I say.
Anyhow I got up at 3:30 this morning. Three-Thirty in the am...umhmm the same time that I'm often getting home is the time I had to get out of the bed this morning. Even my dog was like yeah you're on your own with all that waking up business, she looked up at me, then turned back around in her doggy bed.
I managed to get myself put together pretty quickly-due to elaborate preparation from the night before, every article of clothing laid out for me to put on, hair curled the night before, simple makeup thrown in my purse, I cannot be asked to think that time of morning. Out the house by 4 at the airport by 4:15, and sitting at my gate by 4:40. Clearly I overestimated the various lines to get into LAX for my 6am flight. So I passed the time ppl watching and talking to my parents.
After discovering that the flight is delayed, I'm chatting with the girl next to me about how I'm going to Fresno, she queries about why I didn't just fly into Fresno-"what!!?? There is an airport in Fresno, they told me I had to fly to Oakland! This is what happens when I don't do my own research." I am indignant. Then she mentions that the train I'm planning on taking to Fresno doesn't go that far. I hear her talking but she seems dingy so I'm not all that concerned, plus "they" told me that the train took them to Fresno for court just a couple weeks ago.
After the delay I arrive in Oakland at 8:10, I'm supposed to be in court in Fresno at 9am. I ask the first rent-a-cop I see at the airport whether it'll be quicker to take the train to Fresno or a cab. He looks at me and is like do you know how far Fresno is from here. I say no, but think to myself-if I knew the answer to that would I be asking you this question. He then explains while laughing at me that the train absolutely does not go to Fresno, that I couldn't have seen that online, and that I would never make it for my 9am appt. Bullocks! Being that I planned out this trip yesterday, looking online to see where the train would drop me off vs. where the courthouse was I could not fathom that I could have been so misdirected (read: wrong). So I persevered on, despite the rent-a-cops kind albeit mocking/kidnappy assertion that if he were getting off from work he'd take me on the 2 hour drive to Fresno himself, to the information counter grabbed a train map and hoped on the bus to the train-either way I had to get on the train b/c the only other plan for today was to have lunch with my girlfriend and she was in SF which is Definitely on the train route. I sit down on the bus break out the train map and sure enough no Fresno anywhere-oh crappity, crappit, crap. I break out my detailed plans that I obtained from the trusty internet yesterday and confirm-yep I'm supposed to be on Park Paseo Dr. FREMONT, CA at 9am.
Dang.
Fremont.
Lo and behold Fremont is clearly a train stop, doesn't have an airport and I'm an idiot working off of little sleep.
My colleague informed me that the train stop to court was a good little walk, the internet confirmed its about a half mile, and while granted that is walkable. I am not that kinda girl, so I call ahead to have a taxi meet me there. Besides the flight delay set me back timewise and I did not have the time or patience to be trying to hoof it. I get in the cab and tell him where I'm going in his thick middle eastern accent he informs me not so nicely that the courthouse is right on the corner...no one takes a cab to the courthouse b/c its so close...its just right there...ppl normally walk...its not a long walk...
I finally informed him-i am not ppl, the two lefts and one right turn he made indicate it is NOT on the corner, and most importantly I didn't want to walk! Sheesh. Can't a girl take a cab in peace!
I hadn't missed my case which was great, sat in court for literally hours! Finally finished that and headed back on the train to SF. This big guy sat behind me. I love the big boys don't get it twisted but I should not be able to hear you breath as if you are breathing in my ear after a long run around the block from a rabid dog and his murderous kkk owner.
Get to SF, and am standing in front of my girls job, which is apparently the only non sex shop on the street. Convenient for someone I presume. While waiting on the street for her to come down, apparently moved by all the adult toys around me I literally showed my behind to some unsuspecting little asian man. Yeah he saw my full, bare, bum. I forget that SF is not LA, a flirty little lightweight skirt will get blown over your head or up to your chest in my case...just ask the unsuspecting asian man.
We had a great lunch and I managed to keep my no-no parts to myself for the rest of the afternoon-which was no small feat.
Per usual SF was fab. Too bad I didn't get to shop. My friend and I vowed that the next time I came we would get a hotel and spend some time drinking and chillin-the girl knows me what can I say.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Be careful what you ask for...
Men.
Sigh.
My girlfriend asked for a hot guy, great body, just someone to share her bed with, he didn't even have to talk. What she got was a very, very sexy chocolate man, great body, and dumb as a bag of rocks.
I requested a big backed, baller, charming, bossy etc. Basically all the usual things that I look for (you know since its been sooooo sucessful for me in the past) in a man. What I got was all those things, literally a back to write home about, unimaginable swagger, flossy car etc. Also, he's a stripper. Not just any stripper, but according to all the black woman that I've talked to about him, he is the Jay-z of strippers in LA. My life is hilarious. There is only one all black male strip club in LA and he is apparently the headliner at said club. Nearly every single woman that I've mentioned his name to, at the shop, my book club, friends from highschool, the ladies at the revival I went to (ok, just kidding about the last one), all of them knew EXACTLY who I was talking to at the mere mention of his name. I could just imagine going out in public on a date with this gentleman...again my life is funny. And clearly I need to be more specific with my requests.
A new restaurant opened downtown, its lovely, great food, and the owner has a back that seems to be cut out of rock. He's very nice, but i'm convinced that something has to be wrong with him. I just mean b/c of my track record it would only make sense that he has something horribly wrong with him.
Today my little brother, who for whatever reason is desperate for neices and nephews, had a showcase performance. Apparently the local chapter of the NAACP has a talent competition for kids and my little brother won first place in classical singing. Yeah you read that right, classical singing. I had no idea that he did that...I was certain that he was going to be singing some Chris Brown, maybe a little Brian McKnight if I was lucky. Anyhow, I arrive there to discover that the gentleman leading the meeting is incredibly handsome, like beautiful. My stepmom leans over to me and asks, "so you want to join the NAACP", I replied, "no I'm good". A few moments later, a second possibly even more attractive big backed man walked in and I leaned over to my stepmom and said....do you have a membership application on you? My brother then decided that dude #2 and I should start seeing each other (surprisingly the boy has good taste) and proceeded to crudely "introduce" us, and give dude the "holla at her" eyes. My little 16 yr old brother hooking me up. I couldn't pick between them, they were both articulate, smart, funny, handsome, big backed. So I just played it cool with both, and gave them both my card in case the organization could use my services...you know I am giving that way. We'll see what happens.
The exes are still hanging around. They should form a club. The sometimey club. They could have meetings to discuss ways to reenter and then abruptly leave my life. It'd be fun like a little social club.
Sigh.
Men.
Sigh.
My girlfriend asked for a hot guy, great body, just someone to share her bed with, he didn't even have to talk. What she got was a very, very sexy chocolate man, great body, and dumb as a bag of rocks.
I requested a big backed, baller, charming, bossy etc. Basically all the usual things that I look for (you know since its been sooooo sucessful for me in the past) in a man. What I got was all those things, literally a back to write home about, unimaginable swagger, flossy car etc. Also, he's a stripper. Not just any stripper, but according to all the black woman that I've talked to about him, he is the Jay-z of strippers in LA. My life is hilarious. There is only one all black male strip club in LA and he is apparently the headliner at said club. Nearly every single woman that I've mentioned his name to, at the shop, my book club, friends from highschool, the ladies at the revival I went to (ok, just kidding about the last one), all of them knew EXACTLY who I was talking to at the mere mention of his name. I could just imagine going out in public on a date with this gentleman...again my life is funny. And clearly I need to be more specific with my requests.
A new restaurant opened downtown, its lovely, great food, and the owner has a back that seems to be cut out of rock. He's very nice, but i'm convinced that something has to be wrong with him. I just mean b/c of my track record it would only make sense that he has something horribly wrong with him.
Today my little brother, who for whatever reason is desperate for neices and nephews, had a showcase performance. Apparently the local chapter of the NAACP has a talent competition for kids and my little brother won first place in classical singing. Yeah you read that right, classical singing. I had no idea that he did that...I was certain that he was going to be singing some Chris Brown, maybe a little Brian McKnight if I was lucky. Anyhow, I arrive there to discover that the gentleman leading the meeting is incredibly handsome, like beautiful. My stepmom leans over to me and asks, "so you want to join the NAACP", I replied, "no I'm good". A few moments later, a second possibly even more attractive big backed man walked in and I leaned over to my stepmom and said....do you have a membership application on you? My brother then decided that dude #2 and I should start seeing each other (surprisingly the boy has good taste) and proceeded to crudely "introduce" us, and give dude the "holla at her" eyes. My little 16 yr old brother hooking me up. I couldn't pick between them, they were both articulate, smart, funny, handsome, big backed. So I just played it cool with both, and gave them both my card in case the organization could use my services...you know I am giving that way. We'll see what happens.
The exes are still hanging around. They should form a club. The sometimey club. They could have meetings to discuss ways to reenter and then abruptly leave my life. It'd be fun like a little social club.
Sigh.
Men.
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