I sometimes giggle when r & b artists attempt to create hood anthems. Destiny's Child had "Soldier" an ode to the men from the streets a few years ago, which always struck me as pretty ridiculous. This little insightful tidbit from Interview Magazine by Beyonce pretty much sums it up:
"I grew up in a very nice house in Houston, went to private school all my life and I've never even been to the 'hood. Not that there's anything wrong with the 'hood, but just to assume that I grew up there because of my color..."
In other words...she has about as much street cred as I do- none.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Did you ever have a lightbulb moment?
Another found document sent to an ex-beau a few years ago. We left things in a curious space- he was the first man that I'd ever fallen in love with...yes I had dated others, but he made me crazy...in both the good and bad ways. He was the direct opposite of me- too quiet, too introverted, and too depressed. It was hard for me to communicate with him sometimes, he buried his thoughts and emotions deep in a place that I could not always connect to...
The last day- he drove me to the airport...and we sat across from one another. I was outgoing on overdrive, happy about my infinite possibilities in the North. He was somber. At the gate, we kissed good-bye, and I told him not to cry. It was wrong of me to say that, but I had. Hours before my departure, he had asked me not to go, which had incensed me because he had known of the plan move for six months, and said nothing. Now, with plane ticket in hand, and a vacant apartment, he thought it was a good time for me to make a permanent life there.
One day, four years later, I was at my desk, sitting in a city in the North, with the set of the very things that I'd ever dreamed of- the corner office, surrounded by skyscrapers, the nice apartment, and supportive friends, and a long-term relationship. However, thoughts of him crept up...and I wrote:
Yes, we eventually did. :) As for the chairs comment- yes, he has an awesome modernist furniture collection that looks straight out of the Art Institute of Chicago.
The last day- he drove me to the airport...and we sat across from one another. I was outgoing on overdrive, happy about my infinite possibilities in the North. He was somber. At the gate, we kissed good-bye, and I told him not to cry. It was wrong of me to say that, but I had. Hours before my departure, he had asked me not to go, which had incensed me because he had known of the plan move for six months, and said nothing. Now, with plane ticket in hand, and a vacant apartment, he thought it was a good time for me to make a permanent life there.
One day, four years later, I was at my desk, sitting in a city in the North, with the set of the very things that I'd ever dreamed of- the corner office, surrounded by skyscrapers, the nice apartment, and supportive friends, and a long-term relationship. However, thoughts of him crept up...and I wrote:
I've missed our friendship very much. I want you to know
that I think of you often, and that I often remember the good times
that we had in New Orleans. I felt like a fish out of water (which I was!) but it was always fun spending time with you.
From your love of books and chairs (!) to your fabulous sense of
humor, I really thought and still think that you are such a great
person. I know that we have not kept in touch....
You will never know how hard it was for me to leave New Orleans. I
never said that, but it really was. Leaving was probably the hardest
thing that I have ever had to do...it made me very sad, but there was
an opportunity. It has taken me a long time to come to grips...and it
has been hard to go back even to visit, knowing that I had such a
fabulous life there. I think of New Orleans, the life that I had,
the friends that I made, it was really a difficult decision. I hope we'll catch up some day soon....
Yes, we eventually did. :) As for the chairs comment- yes, he has an awesome modernist furniture collection that looks straight out of the Art Institute of Chicago.
Did something make you tear-up a little today?
Yes, I came across a rare affectionate note written by yours truly to my then boyfriend. I was at home in the North, and wrote to him in New Orleans. It's longer, but this was the sweetness of it...
I miss you sooo much, and I miss the routine of
us...between the coffee and newspaper reading at CC's
or Croissant...to just being able to touch you, or
pick up the phone and see you in 10 mins. :) You are
so special to me and life has not been the same
without seeing you.
Sigh, yes...the truest words ever written, a moment when I was completely myself...it is a fabulous memory.
Eddie Kendricks- Intimate Friends
I miss you sooo much, and I miss the routine of
us...between the coffee and newspaper reading at CC's
or Croissant...to just being able to touch you, or
pick up the phone and see you in 10 mins. :) You are
so special to me and life has not been the same
without seeing you.
Sigh, yes...the truest words ever written, a moment when I was completely myself...it is a fabulous memory.
Eddie Kendricks- Intimate Friends
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Have you ever been to a cash only wedding?
My cousin demanded cash only- no gifts whatsoever- in her wedding invite. It even came with a conceited poem about the wishing well to give money to make all of the couple's dreams come true.
The wedding itself was in the heroin capital (Baltimore) of the country. We had reservations at this flea bag no tell motel Holiday Inn that was recommended in the invite, adjacent to the catering hall. The thought process must have been,"yes, a room at $65 a night will mean an even bigger check for me!"
Yes, a mercenary and opportunistic little switch...make your relatives show up at the wedding with fleas, and bedbug bites but there's still a good payday... LOL.
When we showed up at the hotel, there were a bunch of straggly, dusty, strung out looking people of all colors, holed up at the place. White and black people who looked worn out with that glassy-eyed fiendish, matted hair, scratching myself to get quick comfort presentation. We literally had to step over them to get to our rooms. This one chick, she had a mangy (for real) looking German Shepherd, and he seemed to favor Alpo on a paper plate....right in the door space between the room I shared with my grandmother and theirs. Unreal.
It turned out the motley crew were with one of those magazine sales rackets- the ones where the kids come from Oklahoma or Iowa, sell you a subscription to Reader's Digest or Family Circle at a cut rate price to "help them go to college." Well, evidently these folks had been there for MONTHS, scouring the streets of Charm City, and stayed at this flop house at night. Very sad.
We attempted to leave this communicable disease looking shelter of last resort, but unfortunately we were stuck there, as the wedding was the next day, and we didn't venture too far around Baltimore, with one notable exception. Back then I was a Yankees fan in earnest, and we had tickets to see them play the Orioles. Camden Yards was gorgeous, the game was great, but in the fourth inning, the sky darkened, and we were told to go hide in the tunnel because a tornado blew through...lol. No damage, just dark clouds, crazy wind, sideways rain, and it disappeared back to normal sunshine.
The next day at the wedding, there was no gift table, but only a paper model of the "wishing well" that told guests to "deposit your money envelopes HERE. Thank you!"
LMAO...after all that, the cousin had the nerve to have a money dance- where people pay to dance with the bride. My grandmother kept gagging and shaking her head. :)
The crabcakes were really delicious. :)
The wedding itself was in the heroin capital (Baltimore) of the country. We had reservations at this flea bag no tell motel Holiday Inn that was recommended in the invite, adjacent to the catering hall. The thought process must have been,"yes, a room at $65 a night will mean an even bigger check for me!"
Yes, a mercenary and opportunistic little switch...make your relatives show up at the wedding with fleas, and bedbug bites but there's still a good payday... LOL.
When we showed up at the hotel, there were a bunch of straggly, dusty, strung out looking people of all colors, holed up at the place. White and black people who looked worn out with that glassy-eyed fiendish, matted hair, scratching myself to get quick comfort presentation. We literally had to step over them to get to our rooms. This one chick, she had a mangy (for real) looking German Shepherd, and he seemed to favor Alpo on a paper plate....right in the door space between the room I shared with my grandmother and theirs. Unreal.
It turned out the motley crew were with one of those magazine sales rackets- the ones where the kids come from Oklahoma or Iowa, sell you a subscription to Reader's Digest or Family Circle at a cut rate price to "help them go to college." Well, evidently these folks had been there for MONTHS, scouring the streets of Charm City, and stayed at this flop house at night. Very sad.
We attempted to leave this communicable disease looking shelter of last resort, but unfortunately we were stuck there, as the wedding was the next day, and we didn't venture too far around Baltimore, with one notable exception. Back then I was a Yankees fan in earnest, and we had tickets to see them play the Orioles. Camden Yards was gorgeous, the game was great, but in the fourth inning, the sky darkened, and we were told to go hide in the tunnel because a tornado blew through...lol. No damage, just dark clouds, crazy wind, sideways rain, and it disappeared back to normal sunshine.
The next day at the wedding, there was no gift table, but only a paper model of the "wishing well" that told guests to "deposit your money envelopes HERE. Thank you!"
LMAO...after all that, the cousin had the nerve to have a money dance- where people pay to dance with the bride. My grandmother kept gagging and shaking her head. :)
The crabcakes were really delicious. :)
Monday, December 24, 2007
What Republican Reminds You of a Sesame Street Character?
Mitt Romney looks like America's Favorite Game Show Host....
...Guy Smiley..
AND both are puppets....
Sunday, December 23, 2007
And the relevance of Sharpton is...?
Read on.
Sharpton probably said the same thing after having lunch there in September with Bill O'Reilly. Guess what, it still could be said "There wasn't one person in Sylvia's who was screaming, 'MF-er, I want more iced tea!'"- yes, an O'Reilly quote.
I don't expect much from Sharpton or people on the Faux News Channel, so whatever.
The Rev. Al Sharpton endorsed Barack Obama's choice of chow Thursday night - but said he was undecided about backing him for President.
"A man who likes fried chicken and corn bread can't be all that bad," Sharpton declared with a smile after he and the Illinois senator dined at Sylvia's Restaurant, a black-owned institution in Harlem.
Sharpton probably said the same thing after having lunch there in September with Bill O'Reilly. Guess what, it still could be said "There wasn't one person in Sylvia's who was screaming, 'MF-er, I want more iced tea!'"- yes, an O'Reilly quote.
I don't expect much from Sharpton or people on the Faux News Channel, so whatever.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Have you ever met an Evil Hairdresser?
It was always hot in New Orleans. My hair is ridiculously thick, but between the hard water and the humidity, it was nearly impossible to straighten my hair. I use to hold out for a relaxer until I went back up North to deal with it.
However, between writing my thesis and traveling, I'd neglected the crown. I asked my neighbor's housekeeper(the only other black person in the building...lol) if she knew any spots that I could go to get my hair done. She mentioned this place over in the Seventh Ward.
I went to the hair salon on St. Bernard Avenue. I walked in, and my senses were assaulted with every form of dye, burning, and straightening process within reach. Yes, the personification of a miasma of misery. I sat in a chair, and the hairdresser looked at me and said, "Well, I'll be damned, you sho' have a lotta hair. What am I going to do with all of this?!"
Creole translation "Tifi, can't cha don't cha hair" or little girl, there's nothing I can do with your hair.
Fiddle faddle, deal with it dammit. :)
After pummeling my scalp with a comb, and assaulting it with lye, I entered the depths of hell. My scalp was on fire, and the Evil Hairdresser seemed to enjoy torturing me. An hour later, I felt like I had exited the gates, to emerge in enough time to thank God that I had survived. I looked like some aged church lady, with some flat hat hair looking mess, as styling was obviously not the Evil Hairdresser's forte. I was just happy to leave.
An outgrowth of the hurricane, in fact is that the place is no longer in business. Yes, I checked when I went back to New Orleans last year...lol. I guess she's assaulting people by the mile in Mississippi or Texas nowadays. Good grief.
However, between writing my thesis and traveling, I'd neglected the crown. I asked my neighbor's housekeeper(the only other black person in the building...lol) if she knew any spots that I could go to get my hair done. She mentioned this place over in the Seventh Ward.
I went to the hair salon on St. Bernard Avenue. I walked in, and my senses were assaulted with every form of dye, burning, and straightening process within reach. Yes, the personification of a miasma of misery. I sat in a chair, and the hairdresser looked at me and said, "Well, I'll be damned, you sho' have a lotta hair. What am I going to do with all of this?!"
Creole translation "Tifi, can't cha don't cha hair" or little girl, there's nothing I can do with your hair.
Fiddle faddle, deal with it dammit. :)
After pummeling my scalp with a comb, and assaulting it with lye, I entered the depths of hell. My scalp was on fire, and the Evil Hairdresser seemed to enjoy torturing me. An hour later, I felt like I had exited the gates, to emerge in enough time to thank God that I had survived. I looked like some aged church lady, with some flat hat hair looking mess, as styling was obviously not the Evil Hairdresser's forte. I was just happy to leave.
An outgrowth of the hurricane, in fact is that the place is no longer in business. Yes, I checked when I went back to New Orleans last year...lol. I guess she's assaulting people by the mile in Mississippi or Texas nowadays. Good grief.
Have you ever met a total stranger who said that he would travel to see you?
Giggle again-yes.
Place- New Orleans
One hot day, while packing my boxes for the move to the North, I ordered lunch from Juan's Flying Burrito in New Orleans. I bopped out of the apartment, and went from my fairly stable hood to the unstable hood within my five minute walk. At one point, I could hear the sound of a car following me. When I turned around, I saw three men in the car, and they were just a-smilin', a-flashin' their teeth, and a-wavin'. Yes, it got kinda country...
At first, I started to get nervous thinking, man I have a month left here in old Chopper City, and I've managed not to get robbed or kidnapped in my two years in the murder capital. So now, just as I have made it around the bend, I'm about to get taken out.
I waved back, I mean what else was I going to do. These men obviously were being polite, and if I ignored them, it's like not paying attention to a pit bull when the gate is wide open.
I said hi, because they were right next to me. I dug deep, thought, yes, play nice with the Southern gentlemen. They were in a Lincoln Navi. Impressive. They smelled really good, my weakness. The one in the passenger side started hollerin' at me. So here is the exchange:
Passenger Side Playa: Say Baby, what you doin' outside of the Seventh Ward?
Traslation: What was I doing outside of the neighborhood meant for people of my shade of waffle colored brown.
Me: No, I'm not from the Seventh Ward. I'm from the North.
Passenger Side Playa: Get out. You from the North? Say baby, how much longer are you going to be here?
I think the dimples started making their appearance- they always do when I'm in the company of sweet talking, yummy smelling, big smiling, impressive whip driving Southern gentlemen.
Me: I'm moving next week.
Passenger Side Playa: You don't say. Maybe I can come visit you.
Me: It's kind of far.
Passenger Side Playa: What, you think a brother can't be transcontinental? I can do that.
See, why did I have a feeling that he had been waiting for years to use that word?
:-)
Place- New Orleans
One hot day, while packing my boxes for the move to the North, I ordered lunch from Juan's Flying Burrito in New Orleans. I bopped out of the apartment, and went from my fairly stable hood to the unstable hood within my five minute walk. At one point, I could hear the sound of a car following me. When I turned around, I saw three men in the car, and they were just a-smilin', a-flashin' their teeth, and a-wavin'. Yes, it got kinda country...
At first, I started to get nervous thinking, man I have a month left here in old Chopper City, and I've managed not to get robbed or kidnapped in my two years in the murder capital. So now, just as I have made it around the bend, I'm about to get taken out.
I waved back, I mean what else was I going to do. These men obviously were being polite, and if I ignored them, it's like not paying attention to a pit bull when the gate is wide open.
I said hi, because they were right next to me. I dug deep, thought, yes, play nice with the Southern gentlemen. They were in a Lincoln Navi. Impressive. They smelled really good, my weakness. The one in the passenger side started hollerin' at me. So here is the exchange:
Passenger Side Playa: Say Baby, what you doin' outside of the Seventh Ward?
Traslation: What was I doing outside of the neighborhood meant for people of my shade of waffle colored brown.
Me: No, I'm not from the Seventh Ward. I'm from the North.
Passenger Side Playa: Get out. You from the North? Say baby, how much longer are you going to be here?
I think the dimples started making their appearance- they always do when I'm in the company of sweet talking, yummy smelling, big smiling, impressive whip driving Southern gentlemen.
Me: I'm moving next week.
Passenger Side Playa: You don't say. Maybe I can come visit you.
Me: It's kind of far.
Passenger Side Playa: What, you think a brother can't be transcontinental? I can do that.
See, why did I have a feeling that he had been waiting for years to use that word?
:-)
Another Wrong Moment at Lord and Taylor
Tom Brady wannabe aside, another wrong moment happened while I was seeking out the best black cashmere cat-burglar hat. A congenial lady approached me, and started asking me my opinion about hats.
Unfortunately, the buyers at Lord and Taylor's New York store must have been selecting their winter hats after a crack binge.
The Congenial Lady, who was in her 60s, put on one knit hat with a pompom that had side tassels which tied together to form a bow at the chin. She asked me what I thought of it, and this is how it went down.
Congenial Lady: I'm from here (New York City), so I want to make sure that I don't look stupid when I walk down the street. (My aside- as opposed to all of the tourists who walk around in Santa hats with Crocs on while Christmas shopping).
Me: Honestly, you need to take that hat off. I don't like it. I can't let you walk out of the store looking like that. No, that hat is wrong. Pompoms are not meant for grown women. Trust me, I can't do that to you.
Congenial Lady: I'm glad that you are so honest.
Me: Yes, I mean I don't know what these buyers are thinking, but these hats are really for little girls.
(Aside- I also thought, any woman who is adding anti-wrinkle cream to her nightly beauty regime has no business wearing a pompom hat. It's about as ridiculous as a woman trying to jam her DD's into a training bra and believing they'd actually provide good support).
She ended up with this cute chenille pompom less hat. Congenial Lady approved of my black cashmere cat-burglar looking hat choice, and it was all good in the Christmas hood.
Unfortunately, the buyers at Lord and Taylor's New York store must have been selecting their winter hats after a crack binge.
The Congenial Lady, who was in her 60s, put on one knit hat with a pompom that had side tassels which tied together to form a bow at the chin. She asked me what I thought of it, and this is how it went down.
Congenial Lady: I'm from here (New York City), so I want to make sure that I don't look stupid when I walk down the street. (My aside- as opposed to all of the tourists who walk around in Santa hats with Crocs on while Christmas shopping).
Me: Honestly, you need to take that hat off. I don't like it. I can't let you walk out of the store looking like that. No, that hat is wrong. Pompoms are not meant for grown women. Trust me, I can't do that to you.
Congenial Lady: I'm glad that you are so honest.
Me: Yes, I mean I don't know what these buyers are thinking, but these hats are really for little girls.
(Aside- I also thought, any woman who is adding anti-wrinkle cream to her nightly beauty regime has no business wearing a pompom hat. It's about as ridiculous as a woman trying to jam her DD's into a training bra and believing they'd actually provide good support).
She ended up with this cute chenille pompom less hat. Congenial Lady approved of my black cashmere cat-burglar looking hat choice, and it was all good in the Christmas hood.
Have you ever met a Tom Brady look-alike?
Here's the story.
Yesterday, while looking for a black cashmere cat-burglar hat to keep my big head from freezing in the frigid cold, I dipped into Lord and Taylor on Fifth Avenue.
As I'm perusing in the accessories department, I hear a guy talking in the aisle behind me on his cell phone. Funny, men can go for a half-hour of complete silence across from one another when in the same room, but smack an electronic device into their hands, and they go on for an eternity chatting it up.
So Loud Cell Phone Guy is looking at himself in the vertical plate glass columns of the store, and he's running his hands through his hair. He's super colossal giggling at this point, so you'd have to be completely deaf not to hear him. His tone gets so excited, almost giddy, and he starts yelling:
"Dude, like I woke-up this morning, and I took a shower. When I finished combing my hair, I said, 'Man, I really look like Tom Brady!" (Insert his laugh). "Then, like I got stoked (laugh) because I said, like I totally cannot believe that I look so much like Tom Brady! I'm just like having a totally Tom Brady looking day! Yes (laugh again) I wouldn't be surprised if someone mistook me for Tom Brady!"
Did I really think that he looked the incredibly hot, drippingly fine and handsome quarterback from the New England Patriots?
No, I was thinking more Peter Brady, but who'd get stoked about that.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Are you a member of a certain national organization repping those of deeper hue?
Once I went to one of their little fancy smancy country club shindigs for something work related at $125 a pop. One of their executive members asked me, "Are you a member?" I answered honestly, "No." Her mouth dropped, "You're not a member?! What is your problem?!"
I know, after all, their burial services for the "N" word so touched my soul. She probably would have strangled me if she knew that I didn't know the words to the Negro National Anthem.
Does knowing the hook to this James Brown song count? Funniest factoid of all is that the majority of kids who sang the chorus were white and Asian from the suburbs of Los Angeles. Unity in the community.
I know, after all, their burial services for the "N" word so touched my soul. She probably would have strangled me if she knew that I didn't know the words to the Negro National Anthem.
Does knowing the hook to this James Brown song count? Funniest factoid of all is that the majority of kids who sang the chorus were white and Asian from the suburbs of Los Angeles. Unity in the community.
What is your favorite Rakim song?
What can I say about Rakim- he just KILLS it...
Ah...same beat...Questionmark Asylum touched it DC style too.
Ah...same beat...Questionmark Asylum touched it DC style too.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Have you ever had an indirect intervention?
Yes, when I was a senior in high school. A Nice Lady Drug/Alcohol Counselor came in during health class to hand out questionnaires regarding familial history and personal exposure to drugs and alcohol. Personally, I faired well, clean as a whistle. However, the same cannot be said for the other side of the page.
The familial history- well after naming off more people than fingers, the alarm must have sounded. The Nice Lady Drug/Alcohol Counselor called me down to the senior cafeteria, and said that she had never encountered someone who had such an extensive history of familial related alcoholism- on both sides to boot. I thought, no, there are more people who do, but I have no denial in admitting the lush life tendencies of a few members of the extended clan. My parents were fine, it's just the other "x" percentage that had issues, but it's not like they lived with me. I had to reassure her that none of them were dwelling on Skid Row, they were good taxpayers, but you just know when people don't know when to say when.
At one point, Nice Lady Drug/Alcohol Counselor's eyes bugged out, and she was literally shaking, and in the meantime, her voice quavered, "How do you cope?"
I giggled, and made her freak a little, and told her, "I don't know, I just tell them to pass me the bottle." Her face turned to horror, and I laughed, "Gotcha!"
Yes, I'm wrong.
The familial history- well after naming off more people than fingers, the alarm must have sounded. The Nice Lady Drug/Alcohol Counselor called me down to the senior cafeteria, and said that she had never encountered someone who had such an extensive history of familial related alcoholism- on both sides to boot. I thought, no, there are more people who do, but I have no denial in admitting the lush life tendencies of a few members of the extended clan. My parents were fine, it's just the other "x" percentage that had issues, but it's not like they lived with me. I had to reassure her that none of them were dwelling on Skid Row, they were good taxpayers, but you just know when people don't know when to say when.
At one point, Nice Lady Drug/Alcohol Counselor's eyes bugged out, and she was literally shaking, and in the meantime, her voice quavered, "How do you cope?"
I giggled, and made her freak a little, and told her, "I don't know, I just tell them to pass me the bottle." Her face turned to horror, and I laughed, "Gotcha!"
Yes, I'm wrong.
Do you have a friend who is obsessed with obituaries?
Yes, I have one friend who would send out morbid mass emails on the daily. They were usually about very intellectual and accomplished people, many of whom I'd never heard set my eyes on a day in my life. Of course, the death-of-the day posts were useless to someone like me who enjoys the company of like-minded normal people who keep our intelligence under wraps...haha.
However, if there were no obits, she'd send racial injustice articles instead. No one will ever accuse her of being little miss sunshine. :)
However, if there were no obits, she'd send racial injustice articles instead. No one will ever accuse her of being little miss sunshine. :)
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
What is the best interpretation of a Jacksons classic?
LADAE f/ CHUBB ROCK - "Party 2Nite"
Ah, Show You the Way to Go was one of the best B side singles ever.
Ah, Show You the Way to Go was one of the best B side singles ever.
Has a friend ever confided to you about an addiction?
Yes- she liked films associated with the adult entertainment industry.
Why- A bonafide meltdown when she was socked with a $1,500 cable bill.
Random fact- She said she watched one movie 37 times in two days.
My first reaction, "Your eyes sure must hurt."
Why- A bonafide meltdown when she was socked with a $1,500 cable bill.
Random fact- She said she watched one movie 37 times in two days.
My first reaction, "Your eyes sure must hurt."
Do you know a man who works from home?
Here's a cautionary tale for any woman whose husband "works from home." I recently ran into some Dexter looking dude, an unassuming accountant type at a news conference. Anyway, this is the conversation (very brief) that went down when he said hi to me.
Dexter: I know you!
Me: You do?
Dexter: I've seen you before at the train station.
Me: And you remember me? (Insert, I don't remember ever seeing you).
Dexter: Yes, I use to see you when I was with my wife, when I'd drop her off for the train. You use to take the 7:44 in the morning. I was just telling everyone over there (points to three people) that I know that woman, but I don't know from where. Do you still take the train?
Me: Occasionally, I switched jobs.
Dexter: Well, let me give you my card. We should catch up sometimes. I own my own business, and work from home (throws in his sly laugh). My wife, well, she works in the city, sooooooooo (he has seductive laughter) I always have time to do coffee or something (insert BIG smile- no laugh- it is real).
Me: (Lord) Oh...ok.
Dexter: Do you have a card?
Me: (reaching in my bag- but pulling out nothing!) No, I don't seem to have any with me. At least I have yours though.
Dexter: It was great to see you again!
Me: Yes, thank you. You take care now.
Dexter: I will. You totally have made my day. Wow, I can't believe that I saw you again.
I guess dreams do come true...for some people.
Are mothers destined to become dowdy at an early age?
Nah, my mom still looks like Barbie at her age. She had me at 24.
However, I've noticed a trend lately. When a few of my friends have little people (children) they suddenly lose their perky, buoyant bounce, that devil-may-care coolness that made them really fun.
The friend who wouldn't be caught dead w/o her MAC pressed-powder compact is now fortunate if she has a chance to whisk a tube of Chapstick across her lips. Weekly appointments at the hairdresser for a wash and set, have been replaced with a cat-in-the-hat looking chapeau because she hasn't thrown a comb into her hair for days on end. When one of them told me she can barely catch a moment to take a shower, I protested.
However, I've noticed a trend lately. When a few of my friends have little people (children) they suddenly lose their perky, buoyant bounce, that devil-may-care coolness that made them really fun.
The friend who wouldn't be caught dead w/o her MAC pressed-powder compact is now fortunate if she has a chance to whisk a tube of Chapstick across her lips. Weekly appointments at the hairdresser for a wash and set, have been replaced with a cat-in-the-hat looking chapeau because she hasn't thrown a comb into her hair for days on end. When one of them told me she can barely catch a moment to take a shower, I protested.
"I don't think that's such a good idea." :)
Have you ever been asked for ID when using a Gold Card?
Yes, at a ghetto market, which was situated in the nice neighborhood. The credit card company had upgraded the account- not because I was special, only because I paid my bill on time for a dozen years. People get too caught up in the hype of credit card upgrades, but at the end of the day, it means you will still owe somebody something, so what's so wonderful about that?
Anyway, I had used a standard issued credit card in the ghetto market before to buy Dannon Yogurt and Cheerios when I was too lazy to go to the bank. However, the store clerk demanded an ID before I could use the Gold Card. I protested for a second- a lousy $15 merits ID? You'd think I was up there buying 40s or about to sell Newport loosies or something on the street.
For all intensive purposes, I'd agree that using a Gold Card in a place that says "We accept the Louisiana Purchase Card" - i.e. food stamps could have come off looking slightly fraudulent. Princess Wanderlust just wanted to believe that her charming and articulate ways could transcend possible profiling, but alas, that was not about to go down in Chopper City.
If you ever want to see the place in question on film- check out the opening scene of "Last Holiday." Queen Latifah's character shopped there- and the owner's cute son made a cameo. For the record, he never ID'd me.
Anyway, I had used a standard issued credit card in the ghetto market before to buy Dannon Yogurt and Cheerios when I was too lazy to go to the bank. However, the store clerk demanded an ID before I could use the Gold Card. I protested for a second- a lousy $15 merits ID? You'd think I was up there buying 40s or about to sell Newport loosies or something on the street.
For all intensive purposes, I'd agree that using a Gold Card in a place that says "We accept the Louisiana Purchase Card" - i.e. food stamps could have come off looking slightly fraudulent. Princess Wanderlust just wanted to believe that her charming and articulate ways could transcend possible profiling, but alas, that was not about to go down in Chopper City.
If you ever want to see the place in question on film- check out the opening scene of "Last Holiday." Queen Latifah's character shopped there- and the owner's cute son made a cameo. For the record, he never ID'd me.
Do the recent noose incidents make you crazy?
Here's the deal- what's more disturbing, a rope sans a body or a murder scene?
Right now, I'm more concerned with yellow tape, surrounding the bodies of murder victims. Philadelphia has 375 this year alone. New Orleans has 200. While people are banging the drum and expressing outrage over rope, murder gets nothing but crickets.
Death trumps a bodiless knots any day of the week. Cue up Strange Fruit Project
Right now, I'm more concerned with yellow tape, surrounding the bodies of murder victims. Philadelphia has 375 this year alone. New Orleans has 200. While people are banging the drum and expressing outrage over rope, murder gets nothing but crickets.
Death trumps a bodiless knots any day of the week. Cue up Strange Fruit Project
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
What are your thoughts on insecure women?
Insecure women who date good-looking men are horror shows.
A guy I know is a political operative, with innumerable connections. Political Brother always greets me with a hug and kiss. He is personable, nice, and quite good looking. However, I would never classify his actions as remotely more than very polite.
Suddenly she downgrades herself to average, based on the following: zero personality, sullen presence and bad manners. Her personal/physical appearance is irrelevant. Pretty is as pretty does, and her attitude did not exude that at all. When someone cuts and rolls their eyes, sulks, pouts and gets downright childish, it becomes a useless situation. At one point, Agitated Chick started talking under her breath!
Don't women ever get it? Is insecurity cool? Why would you allow yourself to look so lonely, needy and desperate- especially when it is abundantly clear that I have no interest in your man?
A guy I know is a political operative, with innumerable connections. Political Brother always greets me with a hug and kiss. He is personable, nice, and quite good looking. However, I would never classify his actions as remotely more than very polite.
I recently saw him at a fundraiser. He is very chatty, and shared with me some professionally related news. Suddenly, I notice this nondescript chick beeline across the room, only to push herself into the space.
Suddenly she downgrades herself to average, based on the following: zero personality, sullen presence and bad manners. Her personal/physical appearance is irrelevant. Pretty is as pretty does, and her attitude did not exude that at all. When someone cuts and rolls their eyes, sulks, pouts and gets downright childish, it becomes a useless situation. At one point, Agitated Chick started talking under her breath!
Don't women ever get it? Is insecurity cool? Why would you allow yourself to look so lonely, needy and desperate- especially when it is abundantly clear that I have no interest in your man?
Yes- Agitated Chick grabbed his arm, and whisked him out of my sight, just as Political Brother spoke MID-sentence.
Do you have a fascination with Bossa Nova?
Yes, it is incurable too.
If I hear Bebel Gilberto singing "Tanto Tempo" I freeze.
My favorite old school one is Sergio Mendes and Brasil '66's album "Equinox."
Whenever "Wave" by Brasil 66 pipes in when I am in Pottery Barn picking out velvet pillows, I get really excited. The first time I saw "Next, Stop Wonderland" I could not stop humming the soundtrack all night. "Constant is the Rain (Chove Chuva)" is one of the songs I would listen to in the morning while eating Cheerios.
Yes, I'm corny.
When should you tell a white man to use an iron?
Before I moved back North, there was an iron and ironing board, that I knew I could not take with me. I gave it to my boyfriend, who was about to take a job as an architect at a historically black college. He had a habit of wearing wrinkled khakis, and the shirts were a little too lived in.
My words, "Whatever you do, you had better make sure your clothes are IRONED. You KNOW Black people will talk about some dude whose clothes look like they just came out of a laundry basket."
He was forever grateful for the advice...lol.
My words, "Whatever you do, you had better make sure your clothes are IRONED. You KNOW Black people will talk about some dude whose clothes look like they just came out of a laundry basket."
He was forever grateful for the advice...lol.
Have you ever been on the front page of a newspaper?
Yes- fifth highest circulating one in the nation- a profile piece. The story below mine was about a drugstore bandit, who stole $25k in cash. It kept me humble...lol.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Do you know anyone who looks like a 1970s tv show sidekick?
Rollo Larson- Sanford and Son
Yes, my former neighbor looks like Rollo. He even said, "Yeah, I hear you."
I can imagine being a Rollo look-alike brought out all of the groovy sistahs back in the day. Alright now playa.
Has a much older man ever approached you?
Yes- Case Study #1
Place- New Orleans
Time- Departing from the Hotel Monteleone
Occasion- Sharing a cab to MSY airport
Opportunity- Presented itself as the airport shuttle was late
Outcome- We kept in touch for years. He told me how dull his life was in Michigan while I had a blast in New Orleans. It was like writing to someone who was in prison, and telling them how life was on the outside.
His job- A college professor- first Black man to be named the chair of his department too.
How much older? 16 years exactly
What you noticed about him? He was a gentleman, hazel eyes, and he had a PhD in Political Science. A smarty.
Is he famous? In Michigan at his university.
What I liked- No swagger, no game, just a really down-to-Earth nice guy.
Why it never moved forward- Princess Wanderlust in Michigan? Come now.
True oddball factoid- he's developing a science fiction novel full of sex between aliens.
What is your favorite Ritz Carlton moment?
Diana Krall cd, breezily flowing through the lobby bar/restaurant at the Ritz Carlton in Philadelphia. I was there with a pretty blue-eyed MUTUAL crush (sigh, so fly), and a bunch of other friends. It was late, and we all had too much of everything. It's one of the marble-y, fantastical wonders of a former bank, where the acoustics are impeccable and clear. Ah. The best moment was the appearance of the chocolate bar, which is something that they do in the dead of winter to chase away the blues. It's usually a pretty penny, but they comped us...so Diana Krall played on as we all had chocolate mousse, hot chocolate, Godiva chocolates...amazing.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Have you ever upgraded a man's wardrobe?
Yes, a survey of his wardrobe revealed too many faded jeans, plaid and flannel shirts. It was a wrong choice given the steamy, humid, sticky New Orleans heat throughout 3/4 of the year. He even had a couple a pairs of Converse kicks from Bloomingdeals Thrift Store on Freret Street. He chose to eschew materialism in favor of creature comfort.
We stepped up his game and I Banana Republic-ed him, which was a good place to start. The best finish, had bank been in more abundance would have been Brooks Brothers- see Wynton above.
Total aside- Wynton's feet look big. :)
Did you ever have a friend bring an unannounced visitor for an overnight stay?
Yes to my lovely pest free apartment in a sprawling metro area south of nueva york. A friend visited me from one of the hoods in NYC where gentrifying hipsters populate, and think the L train is cool. She use to mention the humongous cucarachas in her apartment, however, seriously, I didn't expect that one would come with her. I guess nasty creatures appreciate a vaca once in a while or a free relocation.
We hung out, I had fun seeing her again. She brought a load of laundry to do downstairs in my laundry room.
A few hours after she left, I saw a huge assed cockroach when I was on the telephone.
Nooooooooooooooooooooo!
I had to corner it by my fax machine, and position my flashlight to keep it in sight. Sorry PETA, I had to be humane to myself by squelching the opposition. Splat, as the machine became the weapon of mass destruction to the creepy crawly creature.
Disgusting, but it never happened again. :)
Did you ever have a date in Queens?
Yes- here's the scoop:
Who- A Mark Consuelos look-alike, + 3 yrs my age.
When- Dated as Graduate students
How the jump off of the day started- In the lounge of one of NYU's brownstone administration buildings- tension was higher than a crackhead after a binge. He whisked me away to west 4th street, and told me we should get to his place in Queens.
Transit- F Train to Elmhurst
Scenario- Turns out he lived w/his parents. His mother prayed incessantly for his lost soul, and even lit a candle daily in church. Yes, serious business.
His Background Date Music- Dead Presidents Soundtrack, and U2- "Even Better than the Real Thing"
Where the date started: His basement apartment. I fell onto his twin bed, falling deep into the cut of ecstasy while still fully clothed. However, I quickly nixed the idea of hanging out there- the crucifix over the perfectly made up bed (by his mother) stopped the nonsense. Jesus over my head dying for my sins was too much to bear.
Where the date ended: We did Chinese, at this place with lace homemade cafe curtains, truly greasy egg rolls, and overcooked pork fried rice in Jackson Heights. You had to order by number too.
Lesson learned: I swore off Queens after that.
Have you ever been on a blind date?
A friend of a friend of a friend set me up with a High School Teacher for a blind date. We exchanged numbers, pictures, and talked for a minute. Anyway, here is a note that I sent to my Best New Orleans Friend prior to my date with High School Teacher:
OK- so when he came to pick me up- the perfect picture kinda ended in a sputter.
He is a high school teacher, right up the street from where I live. I told him that there were never ever any teachers that looked like him when I was in high school! Trust me though, he is not a typical New Orleans guy..he asked me if he should wear a suit to go to the party. He likes to wear Armani suits, and flys to Los Angeles three times a year to go shopping. A suit? Wow. I said, oh something neutral, conservative is fine, it's not a big deal. I know, this whole thing is unbelievable, I am still shocked to meet a nice guy.
He is going to the party with me and taking me out to dinner on Friday,
so we shall see how that goes. He is so much like me in temperment..stubborn, likes to laugh and very silly, so this should be a very interesting time indeed. We were
playing mind games on the phone the other night, and he was getting a
real charge out of challenging me too. Anyway, let's see what comes of this
OK- so when he came to pick me up- the perfect picture kinda ended in a sputter.
Time of arrival: 30 mins late
Car: He said he had car trouble with his DATSUN.
Attire: A FIRE ENGINE RED SUIT HEAD TO TOE- Conservative? Neutral?
Dinner Plans Post Party: CHANGED- dude wanted to go to the movies in KENNER instead to meet up with his friend Tyrone (WRONG!)
Appearance: The picture added about 50 healthy pounds to him...in real time, he needed a biscuit.
Huge Plus: Good diction and no gold teeth (BING BING BING)
Overall: We went to the party, but he was a total non-talker in person. He asked me to call up a friend of mine so we could double-date with Tyrone. I told him to drop me off at my friend's house- she lived in a gated community- and said that we would "meet up later" with them at the movies.
Buh-bye.
We ordered a pizza and watched tv. Was it wrong? Yes, but so was his suit. :)
Can you name a famous black pilot?
Benjamin O. Davis, Jr.
You cannot knock his Four Star General hustle.
What is your favorite Conya Doss song?
Stay...
Amazing voice...
What is your guilty pleasure?
The View on DVR. Those silly switches are funny some days, but not so bright on most.
Does your grandmother cook soul food?
Nope, if it came from a box on a shelf, it found its way to a plate. Pure yankee.
Do you like Barack Obama for President?
Unsure.
However, I think that he is that guy who could easily be convinced to read the House on Mango Street out loud, while drinking mimosas on a Sunday morning in bed...
Have you ever dated an atheist?
Yes.
His eyes were a beautiful shade of blue. His hair was honey brown. He was from Israel, but was deep into Marvin Gaye. He was a psychologist, so the bank was good enough to afford Upper West Side digs.
Kisses were sweet. His body was warm to the touch.
We broke up b/c I had to relo down South.
What became of him? God only knows....
His eyes were a beautiful shade of blue. His hair was honey brown. He was from Israel, but was deep into Marvin Gaye. He was a psychologist, so the bank was good enough to afford Upper West Side digs.
Kisses were sweet. His body was warm to the touch.
We broke up b/c I had to relo down South.
What became of him? God only knows....
Have you ever been envious?
No, all that glitters is not gold. Why would I ever pine for someone else's life? Please, on my worst day, life is still pretty comical. Here's my quiz results to prove it.
Your Envy Quotient: 0% 
Envious? You? No way!
You're happy with what you've got going on, and what someone else has doesn't change that.
When people succeed, you are happy for them. You know you'll get yours eventually!
Envious? You? No way!
You're happy with what you've got going on, and what someone else has doesn't change that.
When people succeed, you are happy for them. You know you'll get yours eventually!
What is the best way to break up with a stalker?
Move.
It's been done. Go light on the details.
What city? New York, don't name the borough or neighborhood.
What company? It's in sales, and we have a global network of offices.
Phone? Keep the current cell phone number, and tell him that you're keeping it for a year. Feel free to change when necessary.
If he asks you for your new address? Tell him you'll send it to him.
If he asks you for your new address? Tell him you'll send it to him.
The alternative? Get stalked, and become a grim statistic if he's out of his mother freak-out mind.
Does your Ipod have any "N" word references?
Kanye West's song "Gold Digger" only works in its original form, for obvious stylistic reasons.
Have you ever been kissed by a married man?
Hahahaha...yes.
Elevator, at an Ivy League school. One of those full-on press up against the metal back wall. ..felt like every vital organ was merged. It lasted all of three floors on a verrrry slooowwww movvvving elevator.
I came out of it, said wow, his wife is really lucky.
LMAO.
Have you ever dated a white guy?
Yes, plenty of times and a couple graduated up to boyfriend. Black women who hold out for a black man are wasting their energy if they cannot find one, and then want to complain about being dateless wonders. Life is too short to be caught up in details.
On the other hand, as a confession, the night that I heard India Arie sing this song at the Universal Amphitheater out in L.A., while sitting next to my waffle colored brown skin boyfriend made for an interesting post-concert memory...
Do You Believe in Friends Divorce?
Divorcing a friend is one of the hardest moments in life, but often completely necessary.
People who throw shade, spread rumors about me, or are completely negative get the boot.
It's not a game with Princess Wanderlust.
Do you want to be a mommy?
I'm still undecided, even as the eggs powder or shrivel into raisins.
I'm not super smart, nor super dumb. By all accounts my children would be somewhat mediocre or completely scary.
My perfect day in New Orleans- FIRST POST
Listen to this song as you read the list...it'll make it sweeter.
7:00- wake up in the International House Hotel
7:45- Breakfast at the Hotel Monteleone
9:00-Fresh strawberries at the Crescent City Farmers Market on Magazine Street
9:45-Iced Coffee at PJ's
10:30-A visit to the Historic New Orleans Collection
11:15- Walk around the French Quarter
12:30-Take the St. Charles Avenue Streetcar, Walk around Tulane (smile) and Audubon Park, buy postcards at the New Orleans Art Market at Palmer Park
2:00-Head over to Magazine Street, have lunch at Juan's Flying Burrito. Walk back over to Prytania, stare at the Garden District houses- get one last drink of Iced Cafe Mocha.
3:30-Take the streetcar to Canal Street, then take the Canal line up to New Orleans Museum of Art
3:35- Walk around the gorgeous sculpture garden at NOMA
5:00- Go to the shops at Canal Place- Saks- get Jo Malone bubble bath
5:45- Back at the hotel, enjoy a bubble bath in the European soaking tub
6:30-Taxi ride to the Columns Hotel- meet up with friends to Champagne toast
8:00- Reservations at Pampy's in Mid-City to have Creole specialties with the same crew
9:30- Arrive at Snug Harbor- Hope that Trombone Shorty or Ellis Marsalis is on
Midnight: One last beignet and cafe au lait...
Life is Sweet.
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