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Last Updated: 10/23/2009

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Status: In a Relationship
City: BROOKLYN
State: NEW YORK
Country: US
Signup Date: 7/7/2006

Blog Archive
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Saturday, February 21, 2009 
Saturday, February 21, 2009 
Wednesday, January 14, 2009 
Monday, February 11, 2008 

Current mood:silly
Category: Movies, TV, Celebrities

Blogging while Tipsy and watching the Grammy's--- It's their 50th- I couldn't miss it!!!

OOOh My Goodness Alicia—will someone- please swat those eyelashes!  Can she see through all of that? That's all I have to say about that because I like her… a lot!

Oh my goodness- oh my greatnes-- Beyonce's thighs.  Not that my feminist isn't raging for reducing her to her parts, but great go-gamooh! She has sturdiest thighs--- for days and I am tickled PINK (and Green) that she is up there with the likes of Tina Turner.  GO, Tina, shake your shimmy—Something about a Grandmother shaking her shimmy's is a little unsettling, but I'm glad to see it done, honey, and she is for sure the one to do it! Right? I am rolling, rolling, rolling down the river folks and Tina and Beyonce are steering the ship. Yeah, ladies.

Kanye-Kanye, you arrogant silly- hubard, hubard--- thank you for your song, thank you for your tribute, thank you for being a black man who actually- truly love's a black woman--- his mama—but it took more heart than I could imagine and more courage than I could muster to get up there and pay homage to her---- That was incredible!!!  Note to self—when you tell someone that it is "not in good taste" to play the music during your acceptance speech then you too, have crossed back over from thuggery to middle class. Good-bye street cred! Did he ever have any anyway---he's kind of like the Tiger Woods of hip-hop!

Just a note on credibility-Ludacris has officially become MORE Ludacris and lost all of his street credibility, and I should know because I never had any so I know what it is to not have it—but listen Ludacris if you if have on a suit, that requires a white man to draw chalk lines on the cuffs, then you have lost your cred AND if you  have lost your corn-rows to a tightly wound quaff then again, I have to tell you that you have lost your cred, IF, you have to mumble the names of artist over a bunch of music without your faithful hype-man--- then you have lost your street cred- welcome to Jack and Jill Ludacris, we are almost happy to have your thug less, homogenous- Ass.  Welcome, welcome—see you at the Cotillion!

Someone has to stop it---- Stop feeding Aretha Franklin red velvet cake.  It's got to stop folks and I am here to say it.  Where are her friends, and where is her family, this is getting ridiculous—some Intern stole some church tablecloth and gave them to Aretha and told her to put it on, and now she's up there on the stage looking crazy.  I am pissed; this is the queen of soul.  Some body needs to pull the alarm because I am angry and resentful that they let this happen. Call Oprah- -- she is the only one that can fix this!!

Who is dancing with the Gecko- Geico's—this is scaring me- "thrillilicious"??!!!! Yikes !?!  I can't deal with it.

Oh Stevie-  I majored in him in college introducing Alicia and her anthem for the year--- Go Girl—So far, I am feeling this and her hair, who layed out that perm, do it, do it and they got her eyelashes under her control!!!  Is that wonder woman's bracelet on her right arm, I love it!!! The thing about this song is that it crosses over all of the boundaries—my mother love this song—my ill behaved students love this song and I love this song, introduced to me by KJP—and it's incredible-  a universal love anthem--- anyway,OOOh, uh uh uh ooooh, … okay they have done well with this song and John Mayer has the nerve to have soul--- I love it!!!

I don't have to say anything about Ringo--- at least he doesn't look like an old woman.  But, why does the other guy on stage with him look like his twin.  The two Ringo's!

Ooouch—Vince- not necessary about the Beatle thing to Kanye, but kind of funny so I will forgive.

I have to pee during the commercial.

Rhapsody in blue Herbie Hancock and an Asian Guy—an Asian and a black guy hugging this is monumental because it's not even Rush Hour III.

Who are these young white kids I've never heard of presenting the best anything about Rap, WTF-- and more importantly WHY is Snoop Dog still nominated and still making "Music" How is Umbrella a rap song? Ehh, ehh, ehh?  Why???? This is a pop song, and a really good pop song at that, but really best Rap----Jay Z is becoming a grown up at 40—and it's scarrying me.  Snoop isn't wearing a suit—so I guess he's keeping it real and remaining a twelve-year old like hip-hop requires black men to do.  Yeah—Snoop!

Slide to the right-  slide to the left---- everybody clap your hands--- McDonalds doing that song—they are like ten years late!! Come on!!

OoH Cuba-- cooning Jr.---- Show me the money and the "C" list, honey. 

 

Finally Amy Winehouse Ooh my goodness she is standing with a Seal look a like—three black men cheerleading behind her.  Why are these black men dancing so hard?---"she is trouble—she is troubled" Oh my goodness her legs--- they are soooooo thin!!! Oh no—I miss Beyonce's thighs—White Hype- To be bragging about not going to Rehab--- really--- really--- why are these black men working so hard behind her?  I loved this C.D. but where is the soul—folks chopsticks and hair dancing, it's scary, I don't like it--- why not have Macy Gray doing this yelling!?! 

Natilie Cole and Tony Bennett, I love it!!! Dorris Day- you can't get any more vanilla than that.!  No fly's in that buttermilk and no chips in that cookie dough.

Beyonce is sitting with a woman and that is hot!!! I need to let that go, there no cheese or lesbianism down that tunnel.

Thank God- Thank Goodness Amy Winehouse's mama was there to hold her up during her acceptance speech!!! I love it!

Pavarotti died—oh my goodness.  I didn't know that.  I'll leave that alone. My gay friend Grady wanted to give Josh Groban a bath, and I think that he should be able to do that. I don't feel anything about Ike Turner passing but Pavarotti, this bothers me. Josh and Andre Bocelli (isn't Bocelli a pasta) are holding hands…and this…this--- makes me happy.

I love Bonnie Raitt—and did you know that she endorsed John Edwards? ---- Little Richard and John Faggety— this is gayer than a parade that starts at 5th ave and 52nd street and ends in the West Village.! I'm just saying!!  Who arched everyone's eyebrows? Little Richard needs his reparations so that he can pay for a hairdresser to get rid of his mullet!  I am angry about that hair.

Black Eyed Pees—Please Will I. Am- Will you please… Just stop it; it's almost the end of the show.  Oh good Usher and Quincy- this should be exciting.  Does anyone else remember when Quincy had a plate in his head?  I bet Chili is mad that she didn't hold onto Usher, he's a Mama's boy and they always come around.

Herbie Hancock?  Will someone please hug Kanye and medicate Amy please!!! Quincy is picking up his speech from Herbie's legs, I can't take this. He's been waiting to give this speech for 43 years, and this is what I get.  Now he's quoting Barack—If Joni Mitchel and Herbie Hancock had a baby, who would it be? John Legend, Alicia Keys, Mariah Carey? Hmmmm,the questions.

What about the closing act????  Ooooooohhhhh nooooooo!!!!!! I was hoping for a Michael Jackson miracle...

Saturday, February 02, 2008 

Current mood:  pissy
Category: News and Politics

I wasn't gonna blog about it but...

The other night a willowy salt and peppered 60 something year old stumbling white woman entered my job in a well tailored (althoug be it) out of date suit.  A little to the right of  tipsy perhaps, she stumbled over to me and with what I believe, she believed to be a whisper, she opened up her mouth -and my nasal passages- and said, " BARACK OBAMA!!  OOOOObahhhma!"  Could she kill all that oooh in Obama I thought. She is freightening me with her breath.  I politely smiled noting the oversized Obama sheild-- that was reminiscent of that flavor-flav clock from the 90's-- her Obama pin-shield was stuck to to her gray cashmere twinset.  She reared back and looked at me, struggling to keep her balance--she bobbled to the left and then to the right and then back to the right and said to me-- "Barack or Hillary?"  Which one are you gonna choose?"  Uhh ooh-- there it was again my black- woman woman-black guilt.  Oooh Steinam- King me-- a cunundrum indeed.  I could feel my black woman- woman black guilt welling up in my soul.  Not that question again.  Woman and Black-- Black and woman the two are clearly intertertwined with me. Oh my woman black- black woman not to be undone.  I was a little black girl, I had little black dolls, and I went to a college exclusively for black women.  A raging black feminist who often aires on the side of womanist to give my black feminist her due.  I digressed--- back to the willowy, swaying white woman-- and my black woman, woman black guilt.  The guilt is not because I ws raised Catholic and it's just a part of who I am, the woman black- black woman guilt is because I am, are, was, were and will continue to be a supporter of John Edwards.  Ooooh the shame of it all.  I've been holding that in and it's been kicking my black woman ass. A closeted Edwards supporter. I can be gay and out of the closet but supporting a white man who if in a pair of coveralls might sound like a sharecropper- forget about it.  My closet is very comfortable-- Thanks!

Because the only options it seemed, have the media tell you, were Hillary and Barack. I can't count the times that I've been asked that question. People would look at me quriously, and in a  kind of sing songy way that made me want to scream like a little black girl.... say "Barack or Hillary?"  I'd usually tilt my head slightly to the left and quietly think to myself, "Neither please!  Thanks!"  What I'd end up saying instead is, " I don't know, it's pretty tough.  Pret--ty tough!"  Shrug- shrug-smile-smile.  

It is tough! But, what's even tougher for me is the prospect of these next four years.  The idea of not having Universal Healthcare (for everyone- truly universal)  I'm an artist living in NYC what kind of negotiation is an insurance company going to give me that will allow me to pay the rent for my ridiculously small shoe box of an apartment AND allow me to be able to get to the doctors if I have a flu.  Anyway, what's also tough though is my memory of the statistics that where floating around in the 90's about 3 out of 4 black men are either incarcerated or on drugs and subsequently the growth of the prison industrial complex under the 1st. Clinton administration.  Yes our first black president was allowing the prison industry to grow like a wild, untamable, unruly weed. That's not her fault though-- but that time in the White House does count as part of the experience-- good bad and ugly.  Yikes, that shit is tough-- like rawhide.

Tougher yet though is the economy and the growing number of poor folks in our country.  Knowing that something out of control like 28.4 percent of households headed by single mothers are poor and to not be outdone something like 24.4 percent of black folks are living in poverty. That's Ford tough right?  But what's real tough-- I mean tough like a mathmatical equation that I couldn't even begin to figure out is--- why the heck did it take a southern white man to shine the light on this crisis.  I don't get it.

I wasn't going to blog about this but as I just finished watching Edwards good-bye  speech, that his heart was no where in, this afternoon,  I felt my black woman rage welling up in my belly and a run on sentence somewhere at hand...  I mean-- I'm trying to remain hopeful and quench my woman black- black woman rage, but I hope that his campaigh will lives on.  Poverty is not sexy.  It wasn't sexy when MLK was talkin' about it, and martchin' about it and it sure ain't sexy now. It doesn't make good headlines, and there isn't a catch phrase that's gonna make you tune in to the 11 o'clock news to see how "Poverty" is doin in the polls.

The Edwards Campaign--   Edwards helped the democratic party find a freaking voice.  He gave the democratic party a platform. We didn't have one in 2004 and that's what allowed the wheasel to slip back in. I'm sorry, but our past history of just being against the Republicans, or being against the Bushes' simply wasn't enough.  He talked about STUFF--- poverty, education, healthcare, the economy and Iraq.  He shined the light on what it is that we should be caring about.  For Hillary and Barack and the Democratic party--   I appreciate him for that. He may have been chopped off at the knees, but at least he  gave us a leg to stand on.

I'll spell check this tomorrow when my bw-rage has squelched itself!







Friday, December 07, 2007 

Current mood:  contemplative
Category: Life

Madonna's "Borderline" was blaring when we walked into Golden Tan. "Do you two girls have an appointment?"  Ms. Fischer, with her golden tan and huge diamond ring indicated to Molly and Erin.  Molly and Erin Silverman were my very best friend in seventh grade.  Molly a quaker looking girl was sweet and pail with a kind of grayish hair that never quite laid right, while Erin, Erin Silverman was beautiful with long dark hair with eyes the color of the swimming pool in her back yard.  She was all the rage in our newly assembled middle school with her popular older brother and her yellow guess jeans.  "Sweetheart" indicating to me, "you can just have a seat, they won't be to long.  I can try to squeeze you two girls in after Mrs. Goldsteins done."

"No wait " I said, "I'm tanning too!"   I stepped forward and pointed to myself, "Yeah, me too." 

She was on the phone so she didn't seem to understand me:  "What honey, you want a tattoo?"

"No"  I said a little louder, "I'm tanning too!"  I stepped forward with confidence and looked back at my friends.

Ms. Baker squinted her eyes and tilted her mop of dark curly hair to the side and said, "You're black!  You don't need a tan." 

She had found me out.  She went back to her phone conversation--

Clearly she misunderstood, I tried to correct her, " Most of this is not my real color you know, it's a tan from my families vacation to Disney World we just got back."

Not relenting her jingling hand with all the bracelets began to turn, churning for understanding---" What do you mean honey, that's your natural color.  I don't care how many trips from Florida you just came back from, you were black before you left."  Shaking her head, she went back to her conversation.

Finally, I leaned in one more time and slammed my ten dollars on the counter and with all of the courage that my twelve year old body could muster I yelled, " I NEED A TAN"  I backed waway from the counter, not daring to glance back at my friends who were giggling now and no doubt shifting their weight back and forth.

She turned her curly mop to the side, "Okay, okay, you can go in, do what you wanna do. God know's you will anyway.  But I can't be reponsible for the outcome-- if you come out looking like the asphault in the parking lot outside, don't blame me!"

I turned to my friends, "Honey chile' please what is wrong with her" talkin' my black talk, doin' my black thing that I did sometimes to make them laugh.  We went and sat down on the puffy green stools next to the tropical looking plants.  I crossed and uncrossed my legs while staring at the floor-

Ms Fischer still on the phone looked up from her magazine when Barbara a wrinkly,  middle aged  woman emerged from the tanning room with a newly refreshed glow.  " How was everything Barbara?  Alright then.  I have your daughter down for Saturday and you down for next week, same time, right?  Okay.  See you. By the way, everything looks like it's healing nicely, you'd never know the difference.  Okay, okay bye- bye." 

Holding out the key's she motioned to us, "Okay girls you can use rooms 2, 5, and 7.  Remove all of your jewelry, don't forget your goggles and please set your timers.  I don't want to have to come in after you."

I walked into the first room and stripped down to my skiveys while Ms. Baker continued outside on her call--

"You still there?  Unbelievable what a day, can you believe it?  She went right in there that kid.  What's wrong with her?  Yes she did.  It's like, are you kidding me? Is this some kind of joke? Where's the camera so I can be on candid camera---- no that show's been off for years.  No seriousldy.  Like I don't know she's black.  She might not know... her parents might not know...but me... I know.  Her families been trying so hard to be white, you'd think that the child would be running from the sun.  Yeah, yeah I know whatareyougonna do?  Have you seen Barbara?  She looks good, really good.  All the swellings gone down, she's healing nicely-- that nose is flawless, yeah, yeah, he does good work.  She should have gotten rid of the double chin while she was at it, maybe then her husband would stop stchupin the baby sitter.  I know. I know, I'm right.  I can't stand it. Okay well I gotta go. Call you tomorrow."

I eased down into the tanning bed, closed the lid and began to feel the heat.  

Currently listening:
Borderline
By Madonna
Friday, August 04, 2006 

Category: Life
The I LOVE NEW YORK pang finally happened to me. It hadnt happened before when I was running for a train or racing a rat up the 7th avenue stop stairs or when I was standing in my shoebox sized apartment with my foot through the floor. It hadnt happened when I was being proselytized to on a train by a man resembling a mal noourished George Clinton in a purple leather sparkly coat- It definitely did not happen on the corner of Bleecker and Lafayette while standing on the corner knee deep in pissy water while being splashed by an insane taxi cab driver. Go figure But it happened, it did happen when I left New York. I somehow find myself increasingly grateful for the madness and complexity of New York City or I could say increasing perplexed by the rest of the worldor at least a small town an hour away from Atlanta.

I spent two weeks in Gainesville, GA teaching at an arts camp. Great! Great fun, great kids, good money so why not. It seemed harmless enough until I found myself at a Karaoke Bar on a Wednesday night at 11pm. About 10 of us walked into the bar and I immediately knew that I was the most of other that these people had seen in a long time. A few minutes into the whole thing one of the other faculty leaned into me and whispered, Hey me and you, the black and the Jew, we may need to sit by the door. She articulated what had been turning over, and over again in my mind since the very moment that I stepped into the honky -tonk and back into time. I was just beginning to relax when I thought I felt something on the back of my hair. I shrugged and ignored it. My hair was probably just caught on my chair. A few minutes later though I felt the feeling againI turned around to find an incredibly pale, bleach blond waitress smiling at me. SHE HAD BEEN TOUCHING MY HAIR. I looked at her like, what the fuck? and she returned my look with the, I cant help it Ive always wondered what they felt like. look. Immediately I was transported back to kinder-garden and my first day of school, a period in my life that I also like to refer to as my days in the petting zoo. Anyway, feeling uncomfortable with the entire situation I began to wonder. Would this ever happen in New York? Of course notOf COURSE NOT. A stranger would never start petting you in a bar; not that kind of petting anyway. It was then, that I felt itI felt the PANG. The I LOVE NEW YORK. (Sang in the melody of the commercial from the 80s) Pang. I realized that what I thought that I hated about New York is actually what I most love. Im always like... goodness its so damn loud ,goodness there is always something to do, my goodness, there are so many damn people. I now realize that thank goodness its do damn loud and that there's always something to do thank goodness there are so many damn people so many wonderfully interesting people
who are so damn busy running for trains and racing rats to even CONSIDER starting their own petting zoo.