beatniks and shopping trizips
I'm someone who loves music but hardly listens...loves art but rarely makes it. loves writing, but I hardly write. it goes on and on and on and on and...this is a very frequent personal gripe I have with myself. I feel like my talents are underappreciated, but as long as they live only in my mind how can I really be mad about kats constantly sleeping on me? (fools.) I have so many things I want to do but to do them in the way they need to be done I'd never have time to do the things I have to do to keep a roof over my head and keep soy formula in my daughter's belly. I really don't want to leave new york when our lease is up next april...I love new york even though its pricey and the water is contaminated (and they have some real caveman, bootleg, ashy larry methods of determining it anyway, at least it sounds that way - and I quoth "City workers monitor the turbidity, or cloudiness, of water by shining a beam of light through it and measuring the light on a numerical scale."...niggas using flashlights to test my drinking water son) and everyone, from schoolgirls to wall street yuppies, is attitudinal and every person that owns any store speaks some disjointed form of spanglishese and we can no longer enjoy tasty beverages on the train nor walk between cars unless, apparently, you're one of the asian DVD and battery people (only new yorkers will get that). I feel like I was born here...maybe because I never really became the me I was supposed to be until I moved here. I feel like the attitude, the style, the lexicon, and vibe of nyc is all up in my bloodstream, including the subtle racism present when one refers to a language as "spanglishese" and generalizes all...um...freelance subway vendors as asian. so although I will deeply, sincerely miss my friends, I'm starting to look forward to getting the fuck out of dodge...so I can have a new environment to immerse myself within. I have been stuck in a creative ditch for so long I'm starting to wonder if I peaked already and everything after, including the present, is the denouement.
christopher and I are going to the sugar water festival next month...erykah badu, jill scott, floetry, and queen latifah. can you say "one of these things is not like the other one?" I am not crazy about the skeebopdoodledee latifah so I am really hoping she at least does u.n.i.t.y and some of her other classics...I think even her newer fans would be disappointed if she abadoned her entire rap catalogue to sing some jazz covers. I look forward to going on a "date" with my dude, though, as boho as it is...I feel like I should sport one of them beatnik (we interrupt this sentence to bring you a true story: when I was in high school we had an arts festival where all the art, drama, photography, and music students put on performances and exhibits althroughout the fine arts building - yes my high school had a seperate building for fine arts, no it wasn't a fine arts school just a very wealthy one...anyway...I don't recall how it came about but I ended up in some short play portraying a beatnik snake. I think it was some kind of hippy rendition of the garden of eden? anyway...I was a snake, literally. and I wore a beret. that has nothing to do with what I'm talkin about and isn't even an entertaining story now that I've typed it out but I just remembered it for the first time in nearly a decade so sue me) skirts everyone is wearing lately...and wrap my hair and carry a stick of incense betwixt my teeth. I can't even remember the last time we did something on this level together even B.B. (before beans). going to see star wars don't count neither does standing at the bar in the times square red lobster amongst a colossal amount of hungry negroes waiting for a table during the all star game for my birthday in february. we're tryin to hit up vegas sometime this year too, although I doubt that will happen...if it does it'll be in the fall, which actually might be cheaper then trying to go in the summer months. one day we'll go to london to visit my boy lucky and we'll drink absinthe and I'll sketch and we'll ogle the black women with british accents (HOT). one day we'll go to st. martin and sip petron and get bronze on the beach and ogle the black women with spanish accents (UNF). the key to why my relationship works? the ability to debate the ass-to-waist ratio of random female passerby's.
I went on a shopping bonanza this past weekend so I am feeling myself right now...I clean up well. I was accompanied by blue and fuck if it wasn't sweltering hot...the ONE day out of the past couple weeks I forgot to put sunblock on my face so it got all red and tanned and I can't wait til it goes back to normal cause it doesn't match the rest of me. I'm big into matching...normal people fantasize about cars, or winning the lottery, or a lapdance from beyonce...well I dream of having an even complexion all over my boooooody...I'm easy to please. I feel like that would solve all my problems in life. so my mom was in town with her husband and offered to watch the seed for the day while blue and I...well I commenced to spend a sick amount of money on much well-earned goodies. I was planning on perusing all the small harlem shops with the frugally-priced clothes (cheap) but our first stop, and ironically the spot I spent the most in, was old navy. they just had the preppiest, prettiest, girliest shit, I could not resist...lightweight v-neck sweaters, wrap blouses, courderoy flip flops, pastel plaid skirts...I call it my "hot for teacher" look. all I gotta do is pull my hair back in a bun and its all complete. the prude look is the new black, niggas. and I did get quite a few sweet items at the frugal stores as well. I can't even express how much fun I had although the mysterious bitch that wears my exact size seemed to snatch up everything I liked before I got there...I even resisted the fried chicken and buttery mashed potatos with gravy at the buffet spot we took a hiatus in and instead very much enjoyed some salad, fruit, and green tea. blue told me she's starting a campaign for chicks to reclaim the sex kitten inside...it takes doing something everyday to move yourself one step closer to "other worldly goddess-like-dopeness". I was reluctant at first; I am constantly sleepy and occupied and I wasn't sure I wanted the added responsibility of something as alien to me as taking care of myself, but I've changed my mind. I've already started the process...I've begun taking really good (christopher thinks obsessively good) care of my skin...I'm talkin exfoliating, deep pore cleansing, apricot scrub type maddness that I never did before...its all very essence magazine-ish of me. up until my pregnancy I took having nice skin for granted...I rarely took my make-up off before bed, didn't use any moisturizer, blah blah...all that girl shit...now I'm totally into it. I want to be hotter as I age like halle. and I needed the weekend-long shopping spree. weekend-long, yes. we went out again on sunday, accompanied by serena, and I added a fedora and some jewelry to my new wardrobe. I spent an extreme amount of money but I needed this...I never treat myself to anything; I'm always saving to buy something for our apartment or for serena...my entire wardrobe up until now consisted of either pre-pregnancy clothes which don't yet fit again or maternity-sized clothes which are way too big. I was walkin around in t-shirts and oversized jeans every single day and my self-esteem was suffering for it. now with all this hotgirl dressing and exfoliation to do, I look forward to getting up in the morning. getting my swagger back slowly, surely. I get paid again today, and I am wrapping up some freelance clients, so I'm trying to resist spending even more on these bright magenta adidas kicks I've been salivating over for a week now. maybe once I finish paying one more debt.
I feel like I should write about sports, cigars, and buffie the body's ass now. I don't feel entirely comfortable embracing all this inner estrogen the way I should. I don't really know why. maybe cause it's corny.
lemme tell you about how blue spent hours trying to reason with her nutty ass girlfriend after we went back to my house on saturday evening, though. that chick had been calling blue all day...at one point I had to confiscate blue's phone so she'd stop calling her back. I'm in the dressing room half naked and heres blue at the door talkin about "you sure my phone hasn't rang?" their shit is real soap opera and its a shame cause blue really loves this girl but she is on that juvenile shit and listening to blue argue with her is like listening to a teacher admonish a five year old for fingerpainting the carpet. after blue left my mom asked who she'd been talking to all that time, I replied "her girlfriend". my mother looked puzzled and said "I ain't never heard anyone talk to a girlfriend like that, she sounded like she was arguing with a boy". two beats of silence. "mama blue's a lesbian...that was her girlfriend". "oh". she turned to her husband and asked her if he'd put two and two together to which he nodded. "oh". my mom has no gaydar.
I joined myspace finally...add me as a friend if you so desire. I'm on there for friendship and networking purposes solely, so please bisexual women, stop hittin me up for a "discreet encounter" even though I do maintain that it'd be wack to be a straight girl or gay guy cause how can you not like snatch? all that notwithstanding, no discreet encounters. I'm moreso just looking for likeminds because I have a very limited number of friends who are interested in the same things I am, strip clubs aside. I had to explain to my cousin that even my big online clique of friends has greatly diminished...either we've fallen out or lost touch...whatever the case, I am definitely not held in the same regard on the i-net as I once was. sometimes I think heads still read my site out of nothing but habit.
I think I am angsty cause I haven't had sex since there was snow on the ground. due to reasons that can be attributed to my ovaries and womb an shit, topher and I still haven't gotten the opportunity to play sex olympics (I play the part of the pole vaulter...get it? get it? that was dumb). aunt flow won't pack her shit up and leave, shes like the old friend you run into after a long period of outta sight, outta mind and at first you're at peace with their reemergence into your life until you remember how wack they are, ruining your sex life and shit. I've bled so much I should be dead...first for six weeks straight after serena, and now again for going on four weeks. christopher had this brilliant idea that we should wait until I got my birth control shot to get back into the buckid nekid cha cha, even though I was in perfect working order for two weeks. see, I couldn't get my shot until I had a real cycle, and as aforementioned, it hasn't stopped in a month! this is fucking bullshit. I wouldn't usually write about being on the rag on my weblog but ya know what? fuck it. I already wrote about skirts and pastel colors and getting in touch with my inner...I figured I'd just go all the way into it. go hard or go home and all that rigamarole.