Sorry, but.... we're not that close

I've been engaged for over a year now and a lot of people have congratulated me on my upcoming nuptials.  I'm very grateful for these warm regards but I have been puzzled by the percentage of well-wishers who seem to expect an invitation to my wedding.  From passive aggressive to overly eager, I've heard a wide range of expressions--all from people whom I hardly talk to.  It's one thing if we were close in the past but just fell out of touch; I can kind of understand expecting to be a part of the most important day of my life if we were good friends one upon a time.  But these are people who are acquaintances at best.  We never talked on the phone--come to think of it, we never had an actual conversation. We never hung out--not ONCE.  I don't know their parents or their middle names.  I don't know what they studied in college or what cities they're from.  I don't know if they're in a relationship or single.  In essence, these people (not just women, either!  I'm talking about some men too) are little more than strangers.  Some are not even on "acquaintance" level.

While it would be nice if I could invite everyone I've ever said hi to and smiled at, I just can't.  The cost is exorbitant to accommodate important people; why would I spend money on extra invitations, stamps, space, for people I don't give a shit about?  And why do they expect to attend?




You know my mom's boss, Jessica?  Yeah, neither do I.  And that's exactly why I don't expect to get an invitation to her wedding.  I. Don't. Know. Her.  It's quite simple, really.


                                  

Mentirosa

How long has it been, reader?

I was having a conversation in undergrad with some people (while watching an awful vh1 reality show) and somehow the topic of showering came up. An acquaintance of mine expressed her revulsion that someone on television had gone a day without showering.  She found it absolutely repulsive that anyone could skip a day and promptly informed us that, “I have never gone a day without showering in my LIFE!!  I just…can’t do that.  I don’t see how someone could DO that. Ugh.” [shudders]. And then she kept going on and on about how utterly inexcusable such a transgression would be; how disgusting.

I tend to hold my tongue most of the time anyway, especially with non-friends, so I kept my mouth shut.  But in my mind, I surmised that she was either:

A)    A liar (hence the title of this blog post), or

B)    You live a sad life, or

C)    You're a sufferer of OCD

This sounds harsh, no?  I know.  But this blog is the only place where I can be an asshole.  Let me explain, though, and perhaps you won’t think as poorly of me.

A: If you say you’ve never, ever gone a day without bathing, I don’t believe you. I just...don't.  It’s not like I am proud of the fact that I have skipped a day before, and I don’t bring this up in conversation of course (“Omg did you watch Boardwalk Empire last night?  By the way, I haven’t washed my ass in 24 hours”).  But at the same time, I can be honest about it.   I don’t think she was being truthful.   I'm not even talking about having skipped a day in childhood either. I'm quite certain that most people have skipped since they have reached adulthood. 

B: If she had never gone a day in her 21 years (this was in undergrad, I remind you; we're older now) without taking a shower, then she probably had no life.  Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with having been clean all 7,665 (not accounting for leap years!) days of your life, but if that’s the case then you probably never got shitfaced with your friends; so inebriated that you had the worst hangover the next morning and could barely make it to the porcelain throne to vomit, much less shower.  It means you probably never partied so hard that you spent the entire day after sleeping because you were utterly exhausted.  It means you’ve always had time on your hands, and have never been so busy being out there making things happen that you just didn’t have time to shower.  It probably means you’ve never taken a day all to yourself to spend in your pajamas watching the Say Yes to the Dress marathon  television and eating your feelings.  It means you’re probably not in a serious relationship and have never spent the day in bed with the one you love.  In other words, if you’ve managed to shower EVERY day, then I feel sorry for you.

C.  It’s possible that she is just obsessed with cleanliness and has OCD.  If this is the case, then I believe her.  Either way, I feel sorry for her.  She's either duplicitous, or she didn't make the most of the university experience, or she has an anxiety disorder listed in the DSM-IV.

Relish these moments

When your parent yells at you and mistakenly mispronounces a word, enjoy that small victory.

Don't act like you've never said this before

Ladies & Gentlemen, The World We Live In....

Feeling a little breezy under there?

Apparently, some people don’t wear knickers when trying on wedding dresses.  I went to David’s Bridal a while back and like most bridal salons, the salespeople there are with you at all times, even in the dressing room.  I know they’re there to help and some people are fucking ‘tards and don’t know that you should be careful when trying on gowns, but it’s embarrassing to have some stranger see me barely clothed.  Because of this, I was very stiff when I tried garments on; plus it was hot that day and I was kind of sweaty.  I apologized to the saleswoman and told her the reason I was so tense is because I was very self-conscious about my body.  Her reply?  “Oh, honey, don’t worry about it.  You’re actually wearing underwear, so you’re all good.”  She proceeded to say something else about some people not coming with any drawers on and how underwear is “all that she can really hope for.”  Wow.  Has society become so uncouth that women would try on a wedding dress with no fabric covering your arse?  The audacity!  Just come back on a different day if you didn’t wear panties.  Or, since the David’s Bridal I went to (and most of the other ones nationwide) is in a fucking shopping center, why don’t you go next door and buy a pair of panties before your bridal fitting, hmmm?  Is it too much to ask that you not go into a fitting room in your birthday suit?  I don’t care if you got a Brazilian wax and you just stepped out of the shower.  It’s. Still. Gross.

Assumptions

     The objective of this post isn’t to attack people who are prejudiced; we all are in some way or another.  We make assumptions about people based on the way they look, dress, speak, smell, and whether or not they watch Jersey Shore.  I’m just writing this because the assumptions that some folks make about me when they see that I am pierced and/or tattooed are pretty funny and usually way off.  I’m not heavily modified; just a few holes and some ink here and there.  This has been going on since the seventh grade when I first got my second hole in my ears at the age of thirteen.  Some of the parents were horrified and concluded that I was a wild child and I had a mother who let me do whatever I want.  Neither one of those was true.  I was a straight-A student in all honors classes and my mother was (is) more strict than a lot of other mothers.  Meanwhile, the daughters of many of these uptight parents were busy getting average grades and getting felt up and fingered in pre-Algebra.  Their earholes may have been closed tightly but there were some other orifices that were widened that year…. Anyway, these assumptions continued all through high school.  I wore a little bronze eye makeup and some eyeliner in 9^th grade and a friend’s father stopped my dad to ask him why I was being “grown” and wearing all that makeup, implying that I was “fast” (though I didn’t even kiss anyone the entire time I was in high school.  True story.)  Meanwhile, his daughter wore no earrings but was experimenting sexually with other women and would later have her admission revoked from a certain university because of poor grades senior year.  Am I saying that having no earrings is directly correlated with mediocrity in academia and being sexually liberal?  No. Because that would be silly, right?  Exactly.  Having multiple piercings (and more recently, a couple of small tattoos) has nothing to do with how intelligent you are, how hard you work, or how much you fuck (if at all).

Note: for all new readers, this is not a picture of me.

     Now I admit, when someone is really into body modification, it does seem more likely that they’ll be left-leaning politically, be vegan, be less conservative in the bedroom, smoke weed, etc.  It’s normal to assume things, but try not to make conclusions or treat a person a certain way until you get to know him or her.  I’m a moderately conservative, intellectual, Christian “good girl” (er, mostly) who just happens to like putting art on my own personal canvas.  It’s not fun when people assume I’ll be a certain way because I’m black and I’m from Detroit; it’s also not fun when people assume that I’m wild because I have a slight rebellious side that manifests itself on this blog and on my body (though I do enjoy being perceived as “cool” or “badass” during an initial introduction and I try to make that moment last as long as possible until they find out that I’m kind of a square).

Today I Found a Piece of Ham...

...Wedged in between my couch cushions.



What is this life I'm living?

Graphology

Ever since I saw the film "The Talented Mr. Ripley" when I was young, I've been interested in handwriting analysis.  I've never tried to analyze my own writing, nor have I submitted mine for evaluation.  However, I've always been curious about what my writing says about me; the way I form my letters, the way I space them, the loops and curves and the crookedness.  I'm not sure how much stock I put into graphology.  Can it really give us insight into someone's personality?  I'm interested in learning more about this.


Aside: Matt Damon was ultra creepy in that flick. 

Netflix

                                                  

     The company is clearly on a mission to ensure that I don't achieve anything in life.  If I had been a subscriber as an undergraduate, there is a possibility that I would not have gotten my Bachelor's Degree.  I'd either be still in pursuit of a baccalaureate or I may have withdrawn from the university altogether. As soon as I think I'm done with Netflix, up pops some other documentary, foreign film, chick flick, rom-com, or television show that I add to my Instant Queue.  I can't get anything done.  I can't be an agent of social change.  I can't make the world a better place.  Netflix takes up so many hours of my day, sometimes I barely do anything productive.  I still bathe, of course, but even personal hygiene might be compromised if it weren't for the fact that I stream Netflix on my iPad while I'm in the bathtub (I'm a Windows person, but God Bless Apple's long-lasting batteries). 

        After seeing the other day that they had all seasons of Ren & Stimpy, I finally gave up.  After months of fighting it, Ren & Stimpy was the last straw.  I have no choice but to succumb to the Power of Netflix.

Cotton Commercials: A Waste of Money

I've been seeing these "The touch, the feel of cotton" commercials since I was a kid.  And even then, I thought it was a total waste of money.  I don't see it as an investment.  Seriously, have these commercials ever made anyone run out and buy cotton products?  I mean, other than the ones that the viewer was going to buy anyway?  I get what the message is; it's in the tagline: "The fabric of our lives."  We use cotton products all the time.  T-shirts, bedsheets, cotton balls, Kleenex, denim, et cetera et cetera et cetera.  However, I'd wager that not a single purchase of any of these cotton-based items was ever a result of these commercials or their cute little Cotton song (many versions of which are not even remotely pleasing to the ear.)  And even if some idiots did buy cotton solely based on some commercial, I bet that this number was infinitesimal and therefore wasn't profitable for the bigwigs of the cotton industry. 

People have been buying jeans since Levi Strauss invented them.  People are not buying jeans because some 30-second advertisement made us exclaim, "Dude!  I gotta go shopping!  There is so much shit that comes from cotton!  It's... man, it's the muthafuckin FABRIC OF OUR LIVES, bro!  That shit blows my mind!" 

Is it cool that cotton serves so many purposes?  Yes.  Are these commercials necessary to keep the industry afloat?  Um, no.  The only reason they would need to show these ads would be if me and my people (the Blacks) got together and decided to boycott cotton because our ancestors had to pick it, so the industry started losing money.  I am not an angry Negress and will organize no such boycott, nor would most people participate in one.  But I digress (as usual). 

Bottom line, the commercials are a waste of time and dollars.  Nowadays, people are worried about their food, not about cotton.  I'm not concerned about finding traces of E. coli  in my white tee.

This commercial is the worst one I found.  Not only is it more boring than the other videos that came up in my search, but this particular version of the cotton jingle is sung by Aaron Neville.  I hate his voice more than people hate Fran Drescher's laugh.  Watch the offender below:

My Aussie Friend

I met a nice girl a few weeks ago.  She volunteers at the same place that I do, and we met at training.  We were the only young people there, and we bonded over our youth and boredom and current unemployment.  Anyway, we hung out and had a good time.  I never want this blog to be like a diary (I have a separate book where I record all my "today what happened was..." and all my deep stuff.  This blog is supposed to just be my opinions, nothing too deep).  So forgive me for telling you a "What happened on this day," journal-type of story but I just HAVE to write this here.  Ok, so me and the girl from Australia are hanging out and talking, and then somehow meat comes up.  So naturally, bacon (arguably the most divinely inspired of all man's creations.  Forget the Sistine Chapel) comes up in the discussion.  She was talking about how differently bacon is cut in Australia, and that one year her husband (who is Italian but grew up in Germany. Cool, huh?) wanted to try some.  So, this is what she did:

She smuggled bacon in her suitcase.  She smuggled bacon into another country, and risked getting into trouble with customs.  You can't bring food into another country, especially of you are traveling by airplane.  But she risked it all for her husband.  To bring the joy of bacon to her spouse.  And she packed, as she described, "kilos" of it.  Like criminals measure out their cocaine.  Only she had kilos of bacon.  Gotta love the metric system.


It was at that point in our three-hour talk that I knew she and I would get along just fine. 

The end of the world is nigh

A true sign of the Apocalypse.  (Click on hyperlink to witness the horror that awaits you)

Kill me now. 

I'm going to test The Fiance' and ask him if he'd still marry me if I were to wear those to our wedding.  If he says yes, I will forever question his standards and his sanity.

Two choices: Be a conformist or an asshole

Despite my love of toilet humor and swear words (among other inappropriate, non-ladylike things), I am actually quite cultured and shit.  Whenever I am attending a play, an opera, a ballet, an orchestra performance, etc., of course there is the arrival of the denoument/climax and the standing ovation that almost always follows the conclusion of the performance.  I hate the unspoken but very real taboo that can come with remaining in your seat while everyone else in the audience rises and gives a thunderous applause that reverberates around the entire building, sometimes even throwing in a few "Encore!s" for good measure.  I always give praise when praise is due, and this almost always equates to me giving a standing ovation.  But every now and then, what I see onstage is only mediocre.  Or maybe it's good, but not worthy of a standing ovation.  I always clap, but a standing ovation should be reserved for the truly exceptional; I suspect that a lot of people just do it because that's what we're supposed to do.  It's like when I blogged about tipping at restaurants a while back.  I always leave a tip, at least 15% but usually more.  However, I don't like the fact that I must tip if the service was only so-so (I've heard some argue that you should tip even if the service was bad).  Again, I always tip, no matter the conduct of waiter/waitress  (sorry, the "server."  Everything is so fucking P.C. nowadays).  But why do we reward that which does not merit reward?

Anway, I digress.  Let's move away from tipping and back to standing ovations.  I used to always stand up if other people were standing up even if I wasn't particularly moved by anything I saw or heard.  Now, however, I stand my ground.  I'm going to be an individual.  Though you wouldn't know it from my rantings in cyberspace, I'm actually very, very nice, so it is not without reservation that I remain seated if I heard another shitty rendition of hackneyed pop lyrics.  I will not rise and expel the unnecessary energy of putting my hands together to laud a future reject on an American Idol audition episode.  I'm a kind person, but in this case, I'm an asshole not only in thought, but in practice.

I think I'm missing the point....

Yesterday I kept obsessing over the fact that I think Mother's Day should be called Mothers' Day.

I really need to get a fucking life.


Update:  6/5/12--This post just happened to come to my mind and, while i was thinking back on what I wrote, I thought "Cool, 'I really need to get a fucking life' is written in iambic pentameter!" 

Concrete proof that I really do need to get a life....

My bridesmaids

One lives in Newark, one lives in Baltimore, one lives in Milwaukee, one lives in Washington, D.C., one lives in Dallas, one lives in New Orleans, and only one currently lives in Detroit (where I live). However, she will be moving several hours away to Michigan's upper peninsula, so even though we'll be in the same state, she won't be close by.

This sucks.

Music Monday

Didn't post last week (lately there seems to be a pattern developing here), so I'm posting two today.

Desire, "Under your spell"

Blackalicious, "Make you feel that way"

A facebook message from 2009

I was going back through old facebook messages and I came across this one that I received a few years ago in my inbox:

U.r. beautiful and i luv the glass. u give me hope that maybe there stile innacent in this world. that 4 add me as a friend.but anyway was ur new years. do u have a resalotion. 

I think what he meant to say was this: You are beautiful and I love the glasses.  You give me hope that maybe there is still innocence in this world.  Thanks for adding me as a friend.  But anyway, how was your New Year's (Eve/Day)?  Do you have a resolution?

Needless to say, I spurned his advances and did not respond.  This was not the first message he had sent, and I was polite in my replies before but was tired of keeping the conversation going.  I always accept friend requests because I think it's mean not to.  And unless someone is ultra creepy, I won't un-friend them.  And I'm always very nice if men send me messages, but I make it clear that, though I am flattered that they are interested in me, that I am in a long-term, committed relationship.  If they persist (like this guy did), I just start to ignore subsequent messages.  But even if I was single, the spelling carnage would be more than enough to keep me from writing him back.

Spitting game on facebook is NOT what's up.  Especially if said game needs translating.

Don't. Do. This.

A guaranteed way to tick me off is to text me really early in the morning, unless it's important.  I hate being woken up unnecessarily at some ungodly hour.  ESPECIALLY on a Saturday, but it applies to any other day as well.  If you need to text me, or respond to one of my texts from the night before, do me a favor and wait a few hours.  People can be so inconsiderate.  Just look at your gotdamn clock.  If it's 8:30 a.m. on a Saturday, chances are, most people in this age group will be asleep.  I keep my phone on all the time (usually on vibrate), even at night, in case of emergencies and in case The Fiance' calls.  He's the only person who can wake me up without me getting annoyed.  So listen, if I wake up bright and early to a text message, it had better not say "LOL."  or "Wanna hang out next Saturday?"  It had better say something like, "I just got carjacked.  Help!" or "I'm losing a lot of blood."

Music Monday

I was in Los Angeles last week for my birthday so that's why I didn't post a song last Monday.  Here are two tunes to make up for it.

Stereophonics, "Maybe Tomorrow"  featured in Wicker Park (shitty movie but great music)

Sweetback featuring Amel Larrieux, "You Will Rise"

Music Monday

Trentemoller, "Miss you"

More evidence proving the superiority of felines

Like this post I did earlier this year explaining why cats are better than dogs, the image below will amuse you (I hope) and convince you that cats put those old mutts to shame.

Sorry the picture hangs over the edge.  If I made it any smaller on this stupid website the print would be too small to read.

Music Monday

This is now my new favorite song.  I first heard it faintly in the background of the recent cheesy (pun intended) Velveeta commercials and I tracked it down.  I love it.  It's very LOTR.  I'd rather shoot myself than eat Velveeta but the commercials are hilarious and this song rocks.  Great marketing.

 

John Powell, "Mystic Prelude"

I miss the good ol' days....

....when people still used punctuation.

My sworn enemy

I have nightmares that this thing might come back one day.

Look, you can see it in his eyes. A promise to return....... with a vengeance......

Yet another Englishman...

Like my previous 2 posts about my grandfather and John Lennon, respectively, here's another Brit I'd like to highlight this evening.  (Thrice is the charm!) 

Neither the poem nor his delivery is perfect, but I love the message that he is sending:  Being smart is sexy.

Poet Mark Grist, "Girls Who Read"

Having a British Grandfather means hearing these kinds of statemens regularly...

Yesterday on the road a driver cut him off, and he yelled, "You miserable sod!"

This.

Fuck yeah Little Red Riding Hood

Say goodbye to the docile young ingenue from the fairy tale you grew up with.  This chick is badass and I hope my daughter is just like her.

   

I love this animation too.  I know it's not Anime but the blood reminds me of the Japanese cartoons that I used to watch with my father and brother as a kid.

Music Monday

This song sounds so '80s, even though it's not. I first heard this on the now canceled HBO series "How to Make it in America." Why do good shows get pulled off the air?

Creepy vid, by the way.  Besides zombies, children can be the scariest things ever.

M83, "Midnight City"

My version of p0rn

 
   


What more can I say?  This is every bibliophile's dream.

One of the benefits of knowing French....

Music Monday: Double Dose

I was super busy and absentminded last week, which resulted in me forgetting to post a song last Monday.  I will atone for this peccadillo by posting two songs today.

Drake, "Doing it Wrong"  Love this song.  I've always thought Drake was quite talented.  There are several other R&B artists who have better voices than him (and there are certainly better rappers than him), but I (usually) find his arrangements to be better than the average Joe.  I'm all about beats and melodies and nuance.  It's very rare that I care about lyrics.  When I first hear songs I don't even listen to the words; only what's going on in the background.

The Radio Dept., "Keen on Boys."  First heard this song years ago on the movie Marie Antoinette.  If you can get through watching Kirsten Dunst for two whole hours long enough to get through the film, you'll find that the soundtrack is pretty good.  This song is pretty weird but I love it.
Sidenote:  I've wanted to punch Kirsten Dunst for almost two decades now, and I have no good reason why. Do you have anyone, celebrity or otherwise, who you just can't stand?  My person is Kirsten Dunst. Never met the girl, she's never done anything to me, she's never said anything on interviews that was offensive to me.  I just can't stand her.

Finally!

I got hit on by a lesbian yesterday while dining at my local Big Boy restaurant.  While I am heterosexual and not open to experimentation, it's flattering that she found me attractive.  I had been wondering why no chicks had ever seriously hit on me before (drunken "let's make out!" jokes in college by straight undergrads don't count) and have nursed some hurt feelings that resulted from rejection by the gay female community.  My ego was boosted, at least for that day.

Music Monday

Pat Metheny, "So May It Secretly Begin"

How a bad day turned into a great day

• Woke up late 
• Body was very sore from yesterday's fencing lesson
• Still felt sick
• Felt more alone today than I have in a while/felt like I had no one to talk to
• Had a bad hair day
• Had a zit on my face
• Tutored my ESL student in reading today and he got so frustrated with his assignment that he just gave up and went home
• Got picked up 45 minutes late from the tutoring center
• Couldn't find the math book online that I need to order for my other student
• Got mad at The Fiance about something petty
• Got mad at my mother about something petty
• CHECKED MY E-MAIL AND DISCOVERED THAT I WAS ADMITTED TO GRADUATE SCHOOL.

I got on my knees and thanked God over and over again.  I cried tears of joy, and I never do that.  Don't get me wrong; I'm definitely a crier.  But I cry when I'm miserable, which is most of the time not when I'm euphoric.  This has been a wonderful day.  Graduate school, here I come!

Music Monday

"Go With the Flow" by Queens of the Stone Age

Normally I just post stuff from youtube because of the song and not because of the actual video, but in this case, I think it's a win visually as well, though I thought it was kind of creepy the first time I saw it (when you see their eyes, you'll understand).

BFF Application

    I am now accepting applications for Best Friend.  Sadly, I don't have one.  I mean, The Fiance is definitely my best friend, but I need a best girl-friend.  I used to have one, but we had a fight back in 2007 and, as she is the most unforgiving person in the entire world, we are no longer best friends.  It wasn't even like I did anything awful or betrayed her in some way.  I just got angry with her and said something mean, and five years later she still hasn't let it go.  It upsets me because I have known her for over half of my life and I really miss her.  We still talk from time to time and even hang out every now and then, but those times are few and far between.  And when we do hang out, it sometimes feels forced.  Strained.  Awkward.  It wasn't always that way, so it's unfortunate that this is where we are now.
     Anyway, I need someone to be That Person.  The Fiance is my Person and he will always come first in the BFF hierarchy, but I need a chick in my life who is that close second.  The one I talk on the phone to daily, gabbing about everything and nothing; the one I call if I need to laugh/cry/get reassurance/seek advice from/trade stories/exchange clothes/make poor decisions with.  I have some kick-ass female friends and I love them to death, but no one has gotten close enough to be in that best friend spot.  Thus, since I am lonely and bored and have nothing better to do except, oh, you know, apply for jobs/ graduate school, do laundry, plan my wedding, I have created an application to be my best friend.  It's not serious, of course (first of all, I hate the term 'BFF' with all of my soul), but it's a good place to start.  My favorite number is 13, so here are 13 questions that will determine whether you are qualified to be my comrade--> (regular or Communist, makes no difference).  If only there was an eHarmony equivalent for finding best friends instead of bed mates.

The BFF (Best Friend Forever) Application

1) Are you a nice person?  If the answer is 'no', will you be nice to me?  (I have some friends who are assholes to other people but who are nice to me.  This is acceptable, though I disapprove).

2) How old are you?  Being a bit younger or older isn't a deal breaker, but I'm reluctant to have Justin Bieber's classmate as a sidekick.  This isn't a Batman/Robin type of situation.  I already mentor kids; I need a best friend.  Likewise, if you're a member of AARP then you may apply to be my BFF, but just know that we probably won't be able to drink together because you can't mix alcohol and Estroven pills.

3) Do you know the difference between "your" and "you're"?  If the answer is no, kindly sitchoazzdown, please.  I am sorry.  Truly, I'm very tolerant when it comes to other things (even other grammar mistakes!), but the your/you're issue is a deal breaker.

4) Race/ethnicity does not matter to me, but if you are selected and are not black, are you willing to make an effort to laugh at my occasional cultural jesting and use of slang and urban colloquialisms, e.g., any of the following: "C.P. time", "Grape drink", "dinnamug", or "hoodrat";  or if I use words such as: saditty (adj.), rachet (adj.), or debo (v.)/ (n.). will you give me a blank stare in return?  It's totally ok; just let me know if you want me to prepare a glossary for your personal use.  Some of my white friends ask me "What does [insert ghetto term here] mean?" and I am more than happy to define any terms for you.

5) Are you funny?

6) Do you like to talk on the phone?  How often?  Do you like to talk, period?

7)  The Fiance is attractive.  Do you agree that you will not come on to him?  I only ask because a few years ago I was cool with this whore girl and then she tried to seduce him.

8) Do you like bacon?  There is only one right answer.

9) Do you know how to borrow things? i.e., when I get my stuff back, will it still be intact and in good condition?

10) Will you be there for me when I need you, even in my darkest hour?

11) Do you hate something about your body or your life, and are you willing to discuss it with me?  If not, then good for you, but we will have a more difficult time with the initial bonding phase.

12) Are you sane?  Like, on a scale of 1 to Gary Busey, how crazy are you?

13) Humans are imperfect.  This is the nature of man.  You're going to do something that I don't like, and (as wonderful as I am), I might do something that makes you want to bludgeon me to death as well.  In order to be in any serious relationship, whether that is a bosom buddy or a spouse, you have to know how to forgive and you have to be willing to forgive.  On a scale of 1 to Rihanna, how forgiving are you?

My Timeline

     As I tiptoe towards the age of twenty-four, I realize that I have not accomplished all that I wanted to accomplish at this age.  I realize that I am still quite young by most standards, including my own; however, that does not change the fact that I had hoped that I would be somewhere else (geographically, professionally and otherwise) by now.  I like a certain degree of spontaneity in my life, but I had all of the major things planned out.  While I know that life never goes exactly the way that you expect or want it to go, I can't help but notice that everyone in my circle of friends seem to have their shit together more than others. And by others, I mean me.  I can't help but feel pangs of jealousy as I stalk people's Facebook pages survey the lives of others.  Lately, I have avoided phone and face-to-face contact with certain people because all it does is remind me of who I am, or rather who I am not.  I even get jealous of The Fiance occasionally, which makes me uncomfortable; experiencing feelings that are at once both amorous and envious is altogether foreign to me.  To a certain extent, what I am going through is normal; most people say things like, "Before I turn 35, I'd like to be married" or "I want to get my Master's Degree by the year 2015."  But my problem is that I dwell too much on what I haven't done, so much so that I feel like a failure for not having reached those goals (especially when other people have accomplished so much).  I definitely don't want to lose sight of my ambition, but it is neither healthy nor productive to punish myself like a Flagellant for not being all that I set out to be--especially if I'm trying to adhere to some deadline that I set for myself.  
     If I'm lucky, I've got a good 60-70 years left on this earth (provided I don't die early from a heart attack due to my love of unhealthy food and a sedentary lifestyle).  I need to accept the fact that I still have plenty of time to make things happen. For most things I want to do, it's not too late.

I'm looking to add a bit more to this timeline

Music Monday

It's that time again.

Sade, "Cherish the Day"

Music Monday

So, since I forgot to do Music Monday last week, I'll be posting not one but two songs today in order to make up for it.  Enjoy.


Radiohead, "Everything In Its Right Place"--One of my favorite songs ever.  First heard it on the movie Vanilla Sky, which kind of sucked  wasn't the greatest film but the soundtrack was pretty good.

Childish Gambino, "Freaks and Geeks"  Warning: Profanity, Vulgarity, Racially insensitive remarks, sexism. Basically, I'm issuing the same disclaimers that I would for any rap/hip-hop song--unless the lyrics are by Will Smith, whose street cred has been the subject of much derision over the years.

The Truman Show

   There was this movie that came out in 1998 called The Truman Show starring Jim Carrey in a more serious role.  He plays Truman Burbank, a man who came into the world as an unwanted child and was adopted by a television network.  His whole life from that moment was then filmed without his knowledge and consent.  Truman has now reached the age of 30 and then everything begins to unfold.  I won't go into too much detail in case you haven't seen it yet and would like to watch it.


     Even as a young girl, I was a very thoughtful person.  I thought: what if my life was like that?  What if every second of every day of my life had been recorded for the amusement of others?  For ratings, essentially.  What if my whole life was a lie?  Everyone is a paid actor:  My family.  My friends.  My significant other.   The townspeople.  My teachers.  And, my teachers are not only actors, but they have been instructed to teach me that there is nothing else out there beyond  my small town, just in case I ever considered a change in geographical location.  What if every time I had cooked bacon in my undergarments while singing pop songs was caught on camera? What if millions around the country could see me pull out a wedgie?  What if my first kiss had been captured on video, and they zoomed in on my tentative expression and the fact that I apparently moved my head around way too much <---(this is what I was told after the fact).  I'd be mortified, and devastated, and humiliated.  And I'd be ready to kill somebody.  I think what was done to Truman was unethical, and I'd be surprised if he didn't suffer a psychotic break after discovering that his whole world was just a huge set in a studio.

     The Truman Show is also interesting in its social commentary.  The glass window that allowed us to look into Jim Carrey's charmingly simplistic provincial life also served as a mirror that reflected our voyeuristic culture.  And this movie was made back in '98, when reality shows were just starting to take off.  I think the film is even more salient now as we have abandoned most scripted shows in favor of more "reality" TV.

Random and weird

I get such enjoyment out of purging e-mails from my inbox, especially the Spam.  Though the enjoyment is not at an unhealthy level and there's no cause for concern, I think I like doing it a little too much.

I accomplished nothing...

...on my to-do list for today.  Perhaps I will amend the list to include "write blog post" so that I can at least cross off something.

Your opinions of my wedding planning are appreciated, but...

So my wedding is next year and, in conversations I've had recently, some things have come up.  It seems that people have some expectations, which is normal.  I am (mostly) conventional in other areas, so it makes sense that folks assume that I'm going to do certain things.  Most things about my wedding will meet people's expectations and will be the standard.  However, there are a few things that people want or expect me to comply with that I plan to ignore:

1) Cover my tattoos-- Sorry.  I don't care if you think they look classless with a wedding dress.    The only person I would consider covering my tattoos for is The Fiance, and he loves them.  You know what might also look bad? Smearing layer upon layer makeup all over your skin to cover your tattoos in order to achieve that "airbrushed" look, and then having makeup come off on your dress or on your new husband's hands.  My tattoos aren't large, colorful, or offensive anyway.  I don't have anyone's name tattooed on me, not even the man I'm marrying.  I know it's going to rub some people the wrong way (people's image of a blushing bride doesn't usually include ink) but too bad.  I'm going to have a traditional dress in a traditional church with a very long, traditional veil, but I'm also going to show my body modifications.  This also includes showing my piercings, which are likewise small and hardly noticeable.  You know why?  Because that's me.  I'm conservative at heart but I definitely have a little edge, which I'm sure you've gathered by the amount of swear words featured on this blog.

2) Wear heels--Nope.  No way.  Ignoring from the fact that I am six feet tall in a standard pair of heels and I don't walk well in them, I also want to be comfortable.  Even in college I wore flats 99% of the time, shaking my head with sympathy at the girls who winced in agony, each step sending a jolt of pain through their bodies during their walk of shame as the night wore on.  With the exception of the rare comfortable heel (finding a pair of comfy heels is akin to finding the Holy Grail), these shoes often put women through hell, leaving our feet all red, swollen and blistered.  No thanks.  Heels are cute but not worth the torture, especially because people expect me to dance the night away, which leads me to my next point.

3) The First Dance (as husband and wife)-- No.  It's possible that I might bend on this, but I'd rather not.  In most instances, I really don't like having all eyes on me.  Therefore it does not appeal to me to have an audience of over a hundred people looking at me and The Husband while we cascade about without anyone else on the dance floor to draw attention away from my awkwardness.  It's not because I can't dance.  I'm black so it's in my blood, after all.  It's just that I don't want everyone looking at me for that long.  Let's say the average song is about 4 minutes.  That's going to seem like an eternity if I am made to be a spectacle.  I plan to dance at the wedding, don't get me wrong.  I  just don't want to boogie if there's no one else around.  Then it feels like a performance instead of a fun activity.  The Fiance is totally on board with this one; he doesn't want the spotlight either.  I'm already going to have people gawking at me (and my disgraceful tattoos!) as I walk down the aisle; must I add to my misery?


4) Jump the broom-  Nobody who has known me for more than five minutes really expects me to do this (while I am proud of my culture and the rich historical legacy of the African diaspora and I grew up in the hood, I don't really uphold many--and by 'many' I mean 'any'--black traditions). In spite of that, a few people have still asked if I plan to include this in the ceremony. Yes, it's an old African-American tradition....  Rooted in slavery.  I've been to some black weddings where this has taken place.  Nothing wrong with it, if that's what you want.  But for me?  No thanks.  I'd rather leave slave traditions in the past.  There are other ways to incorporate black culture into my wedding, although the "blackest" thing about my nuptials will likely be an Al Green song.

F***ing Valentine's Day Cards

This year, or so it seems, finding a Valentine's Day card for The Fiance' that's not terribly corny, poorly written, or overly saccharine is like:

a) Going to eat at a Denny's restaurant that's actually clean

b) PCs making a comeback I can stick it to pretentious Mac users without looking foolish

c) Finding a movie starring Kevin Costner in which he displays a range of emotion

d) All of the above


Conclusion: It would be great if it actually happened, but it's pretty damn near impossible.

This holiday is overrated anyway, but me and my fella still hang out together and do something small.  And, I always get him two cards: a really silly card and a 'you mean the world to me/what would I do without you?/you complete me' type of card.  This year, it's been difficult to find worthy selections.  If I'm going to pay $5.99 ($6.99 in Canada!) for cardstock with glitter on it, is it too much to ask that the message NOT SUCK?   Maybe in the near future I'll try to write cards for a living.  I might as well, since I've been utterly failing at life recently (I'll post more about this later).

Last year for V-Day my guy bought a shit ton of takeout and we watched my favorite movie.  GREAT Valentine's Day in my book.  The combination of food and film made me fall deeper in love. I owe it to him to at least get a nice card.

Music Monday

I could listen to this all day.  It's one of my favorite songs of all fucking time, and The Lord of the Rings films are certainly in my top faves, and takes the #1 spot as far as trilogies are concerned.

On another note, I'd really like to learn to speak Elvish.  Fluently.     True Life: I am a nerd.

Enjoy :)

"Evenstar" from the Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers soundtrack.  Composed by Howard Shore.

I don't give a shit

About the Superbowl.  Ever*



*Unless the Packers are playing

An Exercise in Futility...

Trying to convince the guy who does my taxes that bacon is indeed tax-deductible...

What I would like to see happen to the term "swag"

Please die.  And then die again.

Music Monday, er um.... Tuesday Tune?

Ok, ignore the silly title.  I forgot to post a song yesterday for Music Monday. My apologies.  But, in my belated but alliterative way, I'm still going to post something for this week.  It's one of my favorites.  Enjoy.

I'll be back to my regular  ranting posts later on this week.

Duke Ellington & John Coltrane, "In a Sentimental Mood"

If only modern vernacular were like this...

Last night, when some one spoke his name,  
From my swift blood that went and came  
A thousand little shafts of flame.  
Were shiver'd in my narrow frame  
O Love, O fire! once he drew  
With one long kiss, my whole soul thro'  
My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.


- excerpt from Fatima
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (also called Lord Alfred Tennyson)

Music Monday

Enjoy.

"Lover" by Sweetback

The Truth About Cats & Dogs

Let me just start off by saying that I'm a cat person.  While I have a fondness for dogs, I have always preferred cats.  Many people in my life, however, seem to either hate cats or simply tolerate them.  I've decided to write this canine vs. feline post to show once and for all why cats are superior creatures.

1) Cats are cuter (though I admit that this is debatable, this doesn't change the fact that I'm right).  Kittens aren't necessarily cuter than puppies, but as they grow up, cats definitely beat dogs in the looks department.

2) Cats smell better, especially when wet.  Wet cats still smell like cats.  Wet dogs smell like a decaying carcass.

3) Cats shit in a litterbox, and I can dispose of said shit at my leisure.  I don't have to take my cat outside three times a day so she can go to the bathroom on the grass. I don't have to wipe up their waste in one of those silly little bags, praying it doesn't get on my hands as I half-clean ('cause let's face it, you can never really get all of the shit off of the grass) the stinky mess.

4) Not only do I not have to take my cat outside, I don't have to take it outside at inconvenient times.  Our dogs (I grew up with two of them) used to have bladders that seemed extra active at the least opportune moment, like as soon as we were drifting off to sleep or when the clock read 5 a.m.  Even at reasonable hours, there's still the matter of heavy rain or snow that makes it an unfavorable time to go for a walk.  Cats don't need you to take them to the potty.  They can handle it on their own, thank you very much.

5) Cats don't bark.  Barking is loud and disturbs not only you but your neighbors as well.  Meowing, though it can be annoying, is something that you can drown out more easily.  And usually, cats are just meowing because they're hungry or want affection.  Once you give them those things, they will be quiet.  Dogs, however, have been known to bark because they're hungry, or they're excited, or they hear ambulance sirens, or they're bored, or you're not paying attention to them, or they have to go to the bathroom (we covered that one already) you're playing with something that they want, or they hear another dog outside, or they see another dog, or they come across their own reflection in the mirror.  Stuff like that.

6) Cats don't need to be taken for walks.  They are content to go for "walks" inside your apartment or house.  Spoiled dogs need to go outside and play everyday like children to stay happy.


I admit that I could easily become the Crazy Cat Lady cliche personified if for some reason I end up alone in the future.  I love watching videos like this and this and this on youtube and I can picture myself with grey hair and bifocals typing my memoirs while "Buttons" purrs in my lap.  <---(I would never name a cat Buttons by the way, but it seems like a name that an old cat lady might give to her pet.)  Cats are cool.  Like I said, I don't hate dogs; in fact I like them.  I just don't want one.  The Fiance wants one after we get married, and that's fine with me.  I'll just curl up with my kitty in a warm bed while he's outside at the crack of dawn freezing in his pajamas watching the dog shit and listening to it bark, all before it tracks mud into the house and on the carpet.

I'm a total movie buff, but...

MLK Day

So, I kind of feel obligated to post something for MLK day since, you know, I'm black and all.  I wasn't planning on it; not because I don't think he was a great guy but because I don't feel like I need to blog or facebook or tweet or myspace about him to prove how much I value his contributions to the world.  However, I'd have my black card revoked be remiss if I didn't say something.  So thanks, Dr. King, you ol' game changer you.

Welcome to Music Monday

So I've decided that I'm going to start doing something I'll call "Music Monday."  Every Monday, I'm going to post a song on this blog.  I read a lot of blogs everyday when I should be doing something productive, and I've come across several good songs that way.  I figured that I might as well do my part.  I have very eclectic taste, so there will be music from just about every genre.  Except reggae.  I really don't like reggae music.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.  I buckled under the pressure of selecting the perfect song that would mark the beginning of my new weekly tradition, so I just said "Screw it" and picked a random song out of the thousands that are on my computer.

"Believe" by The Bravery.

I miss Calvin & Hobbes

This happened to me recently...

Carly, if you're out there, thank you.

Offer to Split; score some points for our kind

The title is for all you women-folk out there.  My sisters, we live in the 21^st century.  I think it’s about time some of you offered to split the check on the first date.  This is especially true if you bitch and moan that women and men are the same, and that everything for women and men should be the same, but then you want the guy to pay for everything.  Read: unfair

Even though I’m more traditional than many when it comes to gender roles, I don’t subscribe to the idea of making a man pay for everything.  That’s just plain wrong, even if we weren’t in the midst of the worst economic hardship we’ve experienced since the Great Depression.  As I said in a 2010 post, when I explored some of the many pressure society puts on men, the opposite sex is expected to do a lot.  I’m not suggesting that we women have all the privilege in this situation, but financially speaking, the burden is typically placed on the man.  Whether it’s child support, paying the bills, showering women with gifts, or paying for the first date, men are unfairly relegated to the role of Provider regardless of their situation.

What do you all think?  Should women at least offer "go Dutch"? while concealing plans to conveniently renege on offer if man accepts

A great video for women

Fotoshop by Adobé from Jesse Rosten on Vimeo.


I still want to look more bang-worthy but at least this video put things in perspective for a moment.

From the Fiance, via Epic Meal Time

Normal girls might like flowers, jewelry, and a romantic dinner for their anniversary.
This shirt is what I asked for.

Turkey Bacon: A Total Ersatz

My sentiments exactly

Turkey bacon is a crime against humanity.  It's far worse than a mock turtleneck in terms of pretending to be something it's not.  It doesn't taste anything like bacon, and it doesn't even taste that good.  People who don't eat pork should just stop deluding themselves into thinking that they can actually enjoy turkey bacon as much as regular bacon.  It will never go well with pancakes or scrambled eggs.  At least if it's on a hamburger it can almost pass as edible since its taste is masked by yummy beef and ketchup.  If you don't eat pork bacon, just don't bother buying anything else called "bacon."  It's a waste of money.  And a waste of mastication.

Great t-shirt.
But not as great as the One and True Bacon that inspired the shirt.

It would be nice to get something in the mail other than bills

When was the last time someone wrote you a letter?  It's been a long time since I have received one.  I'd pee my pants (in a good way*) if someone actually took out a pen and paper and wrote me a letter.  Not an e-mail, not a post-it note, and not a fucking text message.  A letter.  And not a typed letter either, though I suppose that would be a start.  I'm talking about a letter in that ol' lover's scrawl--handwritten, with scratch-outs and edits included. Raw.  Honest.  Real.  A letter where the handwriting might look different throughout, depending on the changing mood or speed of the author, or depending on which parts were written on which days--and at what times.  The words look a little less slanted on page 3 than page 1, perhaps, or maybe they're scrunched a little closer together in the fourth paragraph.   This is what I want to see.  If it sounds weird to you, then that means you are normal.  I, however, am not, which is why I go crazy over stuff like letters.

 Letter-writing is becoming obsolete, and that is very unfortunate for people like me who cherish this now-dying form of communication.    

I'm a lover of words no matter their source: newspapers, billboards, books, even those fucking text messages.  But letters are the best, and getting them in the mail is like opening a Christmas present.



*Ok, so you can never pee your pants in a good way, but you know what I mean.

No prenup for this broad!

I got engaged a few months ago. (Yay!)  The Boyfriend is now The Fiance', which is awesome.  Seeing as I am now betrothed, there are a number of things on my to-do list.  One task that is notably absent from said list is "Get prenuptial agreement."  Many celebrities and other wealthy individuals squeeze it in somewhere between "book the venue" and "mail invitations."  I understand why a lot of people want one; with a 50% divorce rate, who wants to risk a 50% loss of their earnings?  What I don't understand is why you would marry someone who you thought you had a good chance of divorcing AND who you thought would turn on you, screw you over, and take you to the bank if a split were to occur.  If there is that much doubt, you have no business walking down the aisle.  I'm not that much of a romantic but I can't get down with a prenup.  I guess if The Fiance' was adamant about it I would (reluctantly) acquiesce, but I'd be pretty damn mad about it.  You're essentially saying you don't love and trust enough, or trust the relationship enough, to marry that person without a "Just in case we end up hating each other, I'm gonna cover my ass here."  Is it smart?  yes.  Is it a sign of true love? No, it reminds me of the opposite of that.  It's like an expectation of failure.

I don't believe in divorce.  Unless Fiance' turns into Ike "Eat the cake, Anna Mae" Turner, I'm gonna go ahead and do that whole "Till death do us part" thing.  You know, the marriage VOWS?  The vows that will be made before GOD?  The ones that nobody seems to care about anymore?  Yeah, those.  

Update 1/16/12: I just thought about it and, just in case I went too far, I'd  like to explain that the purpose of linking to the youtube clip (a scene from the movie "What's Love Got to do With it") is to show how crazy and awful Ike Turner was.  I am not making light of or making fun of domestic violence.  My apologies if anyone was offended, upset, or triggered by this post.

Eat Fresh? I think not

A pig angel, looking down on us with shame,
for we permit Subway to misuse his flesh (and the flesh of his bretheren)
in such a way

We're all familiar with Subway's slogan, right?  It, like their sandwiches, is full of shit.  The ingredients are anything but "fresh" unless you are somehow lucky enough to enter the fine establishment at a time when everything was just removed from the fridge.  Something tells me that this event only happens when they first open their doors for business.  Otherwise, even if you come in when they just replaced the lettuce and the turkey, you're still looking at hours-old pickles and tomatoes.  And the bacon.  For God's sake, I have never seen such a desperate cry for help from any other meat product.  I can almost hear the slain pigs crying out from their graves, a chorus of porcine pleas begging Subway to make good bacon so their deaths might be justified.  

Anyway, that food has been sitting out in the open under hot lights and the hands of some sweaty employee known as a "Sandwich artist."  The food itself doesn't bother me; I eat here often and the footlongs keep me full for at least an hour (if you're new to this blog, you'll soon discover that I have the appetite of a sumo wrestler.  Or Liz Lemon).  What bothers me is that they lie to us and tell us that it's fresh when it's anything but.  No, it may not be deep-fried in lard, but it's not fresh.  And the employees are not "artists."  They are people who likely hate their jobs but try to do it with a smile on their face (which I sincerely appreciate).

Password Frustration

Dear websites,

You piss me off sometimes with these password requirements of yours.  If I want to create a password that is short and stupid and easy to figure out, that's my prerogative.  I promise I won't come whining to you if my account gets hacked because it'll be my own fault.  But seriously, every time I visit one of you bastards, there's a different password requirement.  This one must be at least 8 characters, that one has to have at least one capital letter, that one has to have at least one of the following symbols (%, +, #, $, !, @ but NOT an underscore symbol, which is the only one I actually use in passwords), another has to have at least one number, one letter, and one symbol, and hardly any of them can contain your first name.  I could continue.  I get it, and I appreciate your concern for my internet safety.  But you know what isn't safe?  The fact that I have a Microsoft Word document with a list of all of my fucking passwords so I can remember them.  It would be a lot easier if I could have just two or three passwords to memorize (maybe one undecipherable password for bank/financial information and university web access, one password for social networks & this dumb blog, and another one for shopping online or something).  But NO.  I have a password for each grad school I'm applying to, ebay, Paypal, Amazon, yahoo, both banks that I have an account with, facebook, FAFSA, job-hunting websites, my gradebook, Hulu (which is a waste of money, by the way), and the list goes on.   It's so frustrating.  And don't even get me started on the articles I read online that I want to comment on but I have to first "Create an Account.  It's Fast and Easy!" for.  Hell no.

Perhaps I should make all of my future passwords some form of "fuck you."  Some ideas:

fuck_you
f*ckyou
Fuck-y0u

Sincerely,

An adult who should be able to pick any password that strikes her fancy.

Story of my life in less than 10 words.

via quickmeme