January 2006 Archives

Sunday, neighbor friend Lirio and I trotted over to the Court St. Theater to catch a sneak preview of Something New. Surprisingly enough (or perhaps not), I'm really big into the black boho romcom genre. Fave movie of those: Hav Plenty and I would've loved it even better if they would've kept the original "you snooze, you lose" ending. I always kinda wish for those. Not because I'm a hardened cynic or whatever, but because it's always nice to have a dose of reality at the end. Sometimes you just fuck up and can't fix it and that's just how it is! Oops, sorry. I'm letting my emo slip out.

I'm gonna start off with what I didn't like:

-- the hair thing. It was really annoying that when she had her long weave that unless she was being "fancy," she never put the fucking thing up. No ponytails, no scrunchies, never back or up, just her hair flopping about her shoulders all the time. Yeah right. And then when she went natural, the same thing: always hanging loose and curly. As if a woman as prissy as she was supposed to be never switched up her hairstyle. And when he asked her about taking out her weave saying that he wanted to see her "really naked," I really had to gag. In real life, a) he would probably never notice and b) I can't see her saying more than "fuck off. Issue deaded" instead of actually going to the hairdresser to get the tracks out.

-- they never showed his place. If you're dating (or whatever-ing) someone and spending as much time with them as the movie implied, unless they have something to hide, you'll have been at their place before. All they needed was one scene there, even just a visual would've been good. As it was, it seemed like dude fell from the sky to garden and roll around in his pickup truck. It would've made a nice contrast to know what kind of life he was living. Really nothing about Brian was sketched out besides him being a generally cool guy (except when he said something naive) who worked in the community garden and was all crunchy and stuff. Even giving him a dad (Cliff Clavin!) in the end was just an afterthought. It would've been nice to even have a throwaway scene with Kenya meeting his friends.

And that's pretty much it. Everything else I enjoyed: the full out debates between the friends (oh so familiar!); him getting some shit as well as ignored or people being kinda indifferent ("The white guy's alright!) as well as not being completely naive either; the Ideal Black Man (Blair Underwood looking not so hot. Dude looked mad skinny and had a perv's moustache, even if his character was cool) not being a bad guy, just not the guy for her; the workplace stuff -- I always get annoyed when people aren'ty really doing anything at their fictional jobs. She was working hard and that guy who didn't respect her pissed me off, so I liked the aspect that her boss was on her side and she made partner; and mainly the interactions between the two of them. I've had a million of those conversations and it was nice to see them not glossed over.

I was amused by all the older black women grumbling about how fine the guy who played Brian was. Dude was cute -- and I don't even like blonds. I just liked that they let both of the characters be bumblers. They were mutually fucking up all the time and that's realistic. It made even sweeter that they worked out in the end. (Yeah...that's not a spoiler. If you thought they weren't going to end up together in the end, you must've never seen a romantic movie before!) I wanna see it again!

Things are simultaneously very relaxed and very hectic. I'm trying to masterplan my WMC trip and decide if the formal conference really is for me or not. After all, I just want to drink some cocktails and go to shows and BS around as I choose. Panels and workshops for most of the daytime doesn't really help with that. We'll see. I'm on vacation for a good solid week and I might schedule a post-M3 day or two just to lay around in the sun. I really can't wait.

The next couple of months is looking good in general: the return of the prodigals Alex and Farmer, the trip, and of course, the birthday! It's 5 weeks from Thursday. Countdown to start shortly. 25! Strangely, I don't feel half as bent out of shape as I did turning 24. That whole changeover was the pits. I'm actually kinda looking forward to this one. I've been working on my resolutions. #1, 4, and 9 are interconnected and I've set a personal deadline of March 17th to wrap a lot of shit up. (Yes, I am going to be cryptic for now.) I'm pretty much focused on that and the trip only. Everything else is kinda whatever. I reached out to the boy (#8 and a little 10) in a random mood and we might meet up on Thursday and just chat-- though now that my lucky ass won Plug Awards tickets that plan is up in the air. I've hit the stage where I don't want him in the old sense, but I miss being around him. Best case scenario: it won't be strained. We'll see how it winds up.

The funniest thing that happened lately was a night out with neighbor friends Alafairnadia and Carnivore. Us three plus Carnivore's coworker drank free Sparks (fucking noxious!) in the basement of Lit all a-chattering. My age got brought up and the coworker said to me: "God, what year were you born? You're so young. Do you even know any music from the seventies?" I went *gasp* and said, "I can't believe you said that! I'm not talking to you anymore! Okay, for 20 minutes." And he would keep turning back to talk to me and I'd shake my head and he'd look at his watch and sigh. Silly, yes. I blame the Sparks. It makes you retarded. I did end up chatting with him again (before the 20 mins had passed actually. That's a long fucking time, man. I've got a short attention span) and when he headed off, the DH three headed over to the former Guernica.

There was a show that we completely missed, but we hung around at the bar just drinking and stuff. As I was paying for my drink, I ended up striking up a convo (as I do) with this random. He had like four beers lined up in front of him and was all "eh. I dunno if I should do this. I'm already borderline alcoholic." I raised my glass and replied: "aren't we all?" and we chattered from there. He had this accent that I could not place for the life of me. Kiwi? Bizarro Afrikaaner? I dunno. The others were off at a table and were beat with it fast approaching 4am, so Alafairnadia took matters into her own hands.

As I ironically said to Carnivore, "when I'm on the fence, she chats with the dude and pushes things forward" (even if I was really just chatting and not even trying to get more than dude's number or whatever), she was (unbeknownst to me) saying to the guy: "Listen, it's decision time. Either you take her home and fuck her or let her come home with us. You've got 5 mins to decide" and walked away. Yes, that's what she said. So then, he comes back over to me super serious and says: "I would really really like to take you home and sleep with you, I've really been having a great time talking to you, but I can't. My sister is really sick and I have to take care of her tomorrow, but I would like to hook up with you very much." I'm looking at him like he has 3 heads. Erm what? Who said anything about going home with him? I was way confused and though I connected it with something she had said to him, I didn't think to ask. I was just ultrapuzzled and then left. Lame. But, I did post a missed connection about the whole thing (because I'm not so secretly sappy, yes it's true). No response so far. Ah well.

Bleary-eyed, I made my way down the block towards the corner. Running late as usual. There's some random standing on the stoop at 341. I note him, but I'm walking and don't particularly care.

"Hey, girl," he says.
"Hey," I respond tightly, not even slowing down.
"Let me talk with you a second..."
Please. I'm past and not even pretending that I'd entertain the thought.
"That's alright. I'll catch you later," he says in a sing-songy way that annoys me to my back.
Fuck off.

Hours later, walking back up the block. I'm having one of the many shitty days of that work week. My immediate thoughts are: home and food. I see the group on the steps of 341 immediately. I'm not even thinking about them and I've forgotten about the dick from earlier.

"Hey there," says the guy from the morning. I recognize his voice. It's kinda taunting. "Can I walk you to your building?"
I roll my eyes, maybe partially shake my head and just keep walking. Bullshit I don't have time for.
"Once you go black, you never go back, you know."
That gets a look. A quick narrowed eyes sharp one. I can't even figure out which one he is. There's like 6 of them and it's dark. They laugh at my reaction.
"Uh huh...we know all about you. We've been watching you."
Fucking nerve. I seethe and just walk. They laugh again, mocking me. Every fucking step is excruciating cause I want to turn on my heel and curse them out so bad that they're grandkids' ears ring. Sons of bitches acting like they know me.

I'm raging about it all night. Everyone's as pissed as me... but Farmer. "Oh that's funny. Just some dude trying to mack. Hehe." I want to curse him out too. "You just don't understand," I write. I want to start by saying "you'll never know what it's like on multiple levels" but it's a waste of energy. If only I had blinkers too.

Work. Sucks. I don't think I've left the office before 7 in almost 2 weeks.

I got interviewed for the paper about my neighborhood and talked the poor man's ear completely off. If I get more than a quote or two, I'll definitely link it.

My favorite line in a music review this week: "He appears in the CD booklet's foldout poster in a suave love-man pose—slit-eyed, shirtless, with rippling washboard abs and a goatee whose lustrous sheen could only have been achieved with the aid of professional landscapers." Second best line: "Give this guy a ceiling mirror and a vat of baby lotion and he'll be set for the night."

Jamie Lidell's gonna be at the M3 Summit! Holla! If they can get Tiga on a bill, then it really would be golden.

A quotable that would never make Overheard In New York:
The Doctor: But why would you have casual sex with multiple partners?
The Patient: Erm....because it's fun?

01. Stop holding myself back
02. Be more creative
03. See a big project through to the completion
04. Do at least one "scary" thing
05. Save money
06. Go overseas
07. Write more
08. Slay at least one past ghost
09. Put happiness first
10. Clamp down on the emo

Good thing I'm still dragging on those resolutions cause update more really needs to be on the top of the list. My attention span is getting only worse I'm aging (25 in 52 days, you know), so I can't successfully juggle all my fun little hobbies when I could, like, go out or like, go to sleep. But I'm totally turning over a new leaf. You'll see.

But, the fact of the matter is that I haven't been doing much of anything. Chilling with the neighbor friends. Applying for new stuff and wringing my hands. Trying in vain to clean the homestead. Prepllanning the WMC trip. Gettng a clean bill of health at the doctor's. Last week was terrible work week and I was beat. I have been slowly but surely making losses though. Can you believe you can actually lose weight if you eat fewer cheeseburger deluxes and drink less than half the week and you know, exercise too?! Shocking, isn't it? Much work to be done in a lot of areas though. Ant and I (mainly I) are kicking around the idea of a 1-year anniversary of being in the apartment party. I find it really unbelievable right now that this time last year, I was lugging all my shit in here and just desperately hoping that we wouldn't be a disastrous roommate pair. And (*knock on wood*) it's been a good match. Here's to another year of good times.

All year, I've been telling myself that I would get my shit together and submit a proposal for the Pop Conference. Everyone made it sound so fun last year! And I had a topic I thought was pretty meaty (Trapped In The Closet and the mainstream success of the chitlin circuit) and have been definitely not shy about music punditry over the internets -- as poor Anthony's email box can confirm. But in typical form, the deadline's fast approaching and of course, I haven't written anything yet to send off. Oops. I think I'll go anyway though. I've never been to Seattle and I will ask probing questions and/or jeer for kicks. The meantime, I'll try not to let dumb things elevate my pressure and try to hold back the "eat a dick" in correspondence. After all, my (forthcoming) list o' 2006 resolutions includes see at least one creatively satisfying idea through and stop selling myself short. As harsh as I'll ever be on anyone, I've always been my worst critic.

In case the title doesn't make it obvious (or perhaps the album on the sidebar), I've surrendered to Mariah for the moment. I haven't really hated her like I did in elementary school when I cursed "the annoying bitch hitting the stupid notes only dolphins can hear" in forever -- I even bought the #1s collection thingy in Discorama some years back for $6.99 I believe. The songs I've heard so far -- the singles really -- have caught my ear (well except for the latest one), but watching her videos really bother the fuck out of me. The desperation is usually wafting off the screen. She's always preening like a horse (show my left side! left side!) and usually wearing something real questionable. In the last video, was that her soccer outfit from when she was in junior high? Just no. Or maybe I just secretly still hate her and a few catchy JD productions isn't making me feel otherwise. That's what I suspect.

The neighborfriend girls and I have been conferring about the shark-like atmosphere that seems to exist in some of our neighborhood haunts. The dudes tend to be aggressively on the prowl for single girls when they nine times out of ten are definitely not single themselves. It's just an annoying extra layer of questioning you have to endure. "Do you have a significant other...in any and every technicality we could think of? Is there some person that would be potentially upset to see us here together?" People who use the semantics game to do lies of omission really bug the fuck out of me. And then there's the curious case of the unabashed two-timers like this guy who frequents the local and I've seen numerous times making out with one of the waitresses. One day when I said the waitress is his girl, Alafairnadia corrected me with "nah, it's someone different. They come here together all the time." Hanging out with your girl where your other girl works? Erm, that's some Ricki Lake shit. Sorry. I think I just inherently don't like those who are having their cake and eating it too. They're just being selfish and greedy. Ooh...look at me, the moralist. Not quite. I just don't like overt sleaze.

Anyhoo...Farmer and I have mended fences. Or rather, he stopped being a dick and I gave him the "you're on my shit list" attitude, but things are swimming along again as well as they ever are I suppose. In his bipolar way, he magically reappeared on my buddy list and in our brief little chat, he let me know that he was coming back to town soon. I was a little underwhelmed honestly and imagine my surprise getting a phone call from him 10:30pm the next night all "hey, I'm in Queens. Can I stay with you?" I grred and cursed, but ultimately caved and we had a nice little visit once I got the gruffness out of my system and started to laugh at Team America. He's moving back to NYC and looking for a place. I randomly IMed with the boy on Saturday when I was bored and saw him pop up. He doesn't know my SN though because er, why and he's mostly in the dark about the various internet activities of mine. And I actually forgot to say who I was also. Shame on me. He said he's looking for a place also. He and Farmer should room together. What an odd couple! But it would at least give me a definite destination to avoid...for a minute anyways.

Through sheer force of will, dammit. Through sheer force of will.

I was a goddamned bitch for a fair chunk of 2005. I think it's kinda funny now. Not as much as I did then...well, not always. I liked two guys for real in an honest open hearted sort of way and it didn't remotely work out which made me temporarily emo (The Brit and the boy) and everyone else I chewed up and spit out...or we reached a mutually acrimonious end. I sure as hell wouldn't have wanted to have dated (in any interpretation of that word) me for the first half of '05.

Yet I was honestly nicer and more mellow than I've ever been. ("Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes." Word.) I've made some new friends that I think are great and have really good relationships with everyone that really matters to me and I feel settled here with a home in a way I haven't since I was a kid. I emotionally pulled myself up by the bootstraps through a lot of shit and I might not be satisfied with every aspect, but dude, I'm really happy now and I definitely wasn't this time last year. I think it was the first year I can say I was actively handling my shit. I was really worried about me for half the year and was just a fucking emo wreck, but I proved that I can do what I need to do for myself when I'm floundering and I've come out better for it.

I might still hate my job and be broke and not weigh what I would like and 10,000 other things but I can shake that shit off and be a functional awesome person making plans and living a good life. And I can think of ways to change that stuff for the better too instead of being held hostage by the feeling that everything sucks and there's no point in trying. I definitely streamlined even more than I was last year. Most of my fun happens in a 6 block radius from my apartment and I'm cool with that. I don't really do 90% of the bullshit stuff I used to. I guess standing on the wall looking at "cool" people did lose its novelty...but free drinks? Never. (Though that maybe could change too honestly.)

I'm really just happy that last year I can say most my really brokedown episodes weren't really stupid boy emo stuff. The thing with the boy made me really unhappy (sometimes still does) because fuck I was out there and it just hurt hurt hurt, but really I wasn't going to lose it totally over him. I was disappointed, yes, but I was a fucking great would-be girlfriend and I don't have a single regret. Likewise for The Brit. I could look at it that they didn't prompt the hysterics of a Farmer or a Mr. Sailor because I wasn't feeling it, but no, I just grew up and stopped being an overly melodramatic asshole for 2005. I could have a real crisis thinking about not wanting to be stuck in a career that currently feels mentally dead end and/or upset that I had a such big learning curve about how to be responsible and keep my head above water. But, a crying jag over some boys I was barely dating? No fucking way. And that's gotta be progress or something.

Happy Fucking New Year!

We convinced PrincessNella to join us in our neighborhood to ring in the new year with the neighbor friends. She, Ant, and I went to KateBklyn's place where we saw most of the crew and Cupcake and drank and watched the fireworks and made merry. It was an awesome time and I always feel good about starting the New Year with friends.

Because I'm me, in the wee hours of the night, I was ready to keep the party moving. PN and Ant were off to bed and I was flying solo. I traipsed myself across Brooklyn via cab to go this warehouse party somewhere in Bushwick. It was crazy, crowded, and everyone was basically drunkenly hooking up where they stood, but I was amused. I got in for free (yay!), drinks were $3, and I even had some hijinks. Dude who invited me there is one of the cutest guys in NYC and when we saw each other, we made the move to do the kiss on the cheek and just missed. And kissed right on the lips. He grinned and I grinned and shrugged and said "happy new year!" Awesome. There was also my bathroom mishap where I was minding my business and wondered what that weird smell I detected was. Oh, it was just my purse on fire! I jumped up all "holy shit!" and dumped water on my charred straps. (This year is 2 days old and I'm already super slicker!) Later on, I'm chatting with the guy again and I'm like "this party is crazy! I'm setting my shit on fire because I'm retarded!" and we're talking about something or another and he said the phrase that'll usually make a single girl's blood run cold: "Oh, that's funny. My girlfriend says the same thing!" I'm pretty sure I made a face. Ah well. Flirting him is just fun regardless. But, I was pretty much done with the place after that and navigated my cheap ass home on 2 trains and a bus and got home around 7:30am.

I wasn't doing shit most of New Year's Day. I rolled out of bed after 2 and jumped on my computer like the addict I am. Some long buried random IMed me -- just like he did while the transit strike was going on -- all "hey, want to hang out?" you know in that sweaty naked sense. And my general response was "eh..." and I instead spent about 12 hours hanging out with my neighbor friends. A girl's gotta have priorities.