MERRY BELATED CHRISTMAS, YE MERRY BLOGGERS. I thought about you all, I really did. Hope everybody had a grand-slam of a Christmas, I sure did (LAL 92, BOS 83, for starters). But for the record, young, attractive, happy couples are not allowed in my house [presence] anymore. It's depressing.
Why did I not get out of bed until (I'm ashamed) 5:28pm??? Blame it on my fabulous new One Tree Hill Season 5 box set, which kept me awake long after guests had left...what did everybody get? Spill in the comments, I'm curious!
Sad news about Eartha Kitt, though. She did the damn thing...even though, I have to be honest, "Santa Baby' is my least favorite song on Earth. I feel bad about saying it now, but I truly hate it. Still, she was a legend.
A black female legend, you say? Wait for it, wait for it...aha, of course, Miss B-Day herself is slated to play Eartha in a biopic. *Blank stare followed by exasperated sigh*. Beyonce. GIRL. If I have to, as Luvvie hilariously puts it, watch as you wear a bad wig, cuss awkwardly, and choke on smoke, I will lose my damn mind. This is not coming from a place of hateration, but Bey can't act like that. And certainly not at the level where the first name I think of to play a legendary female and knock it out of the park is Beyonce Carter (nee Knowles). I mean, there's even sort of a taboo in Hollywood that people only really star in more than one or even two biopics. Even still, starring in several and doing so successfully means that you are a certified high-roller. See Washington, Denzel as Hurricane, Malcom X, or hell, Herman Boone. See also Smith, Will as Muhammed Ali, that guy in The Pursuit of Happyness, and, let's take an honest look into the future, Barack Obama. These are acting heavyweights who take on the task of "becoming" someone else, doing it well, and turning around to repeat that feat. And here comes Beyonce's non-acting ass. I admire her hustle but this has got to stop. I'm just saying to me, she belongs on my Ipod, not in my DVD player**.
OR MY CLOSET.
**Ok, ok, not including The Beyonce Experience, 'cause that sh*t was wondrous. Peep my favorite part:
Friday, December 26, 2008
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Happy Christmakkuwanzaa!
Finally, right? Pulled in a seriously good haul so far...as you see, liveblogging did not happen. It probably will not happen--cut me some slack, 'tis the season. Actually I'm only on here because only my weird-ish relatives have arrived and I'm in my room waiting for the more normal folks. Especially Little Cousin. Then the real party can begin.
Now bring me some figgy pudding, a shot glass of good cheer.
Now bring me some figgy pudding, a shot glass of good cheer.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Festivus, Revamped
If it seems that I am swag-jacking Vittoria with "Post-Festivus" post, it's because I am.
-Thanks for repeatedly putting up with my drunk arse.
-Come to think of it, thanks for keeping all of my bad thoughts. I would've had a nervous breakdown a long time ago if it wasn't for you! *cue Marvin Sapp*
-Even though we're years apart, thanks for being an all-around roadie. I can't believe how cool you've grown up to be.
-I appreciate you gossiping and talking sh*t with me in corners-together we are fabulous and snazzy people!
-Thank you for your kind words. I never saw you again, but what you said and the fact that you said it at all really touched me.
-Thanks for being a great mentor, great teacher, and for not judging me when I cussed him out in front of you. You give me confidence as a writer.
-Sometimes I wish I had your independent confidence.
-Thanks for telling me my jeans are too big.
-We always have SO much fun in the car on the way home!
-I have no idea why you still like me enough to be my friend, but I love you and am glad that you are.
-You're the most poised and classy lady I've ever met...I'm glad you got married and started a family like you've always wanted.
-Because of you, I found a career path--when I start my own magazine or business, you're the first person I'm hiring.
-You two are the best parents a girl could have.
I feel all merry inside. Which is good because I still have shopping and Christmas-y things to do and need that extra sprinkle of holiday cheer--at this moment, teeth are unbrushed and pajamas may be still on. Maybe I'll liveblog Christmas tomorrow (ha ha, Christmas is tomorrow, yay!).
-Thanks for repeatedly putting up with my drunk arse.
-Come to think of it, thanks for keeping all of my bad thoughts. I would've had a nervous breakdown a long time ago if it wasn't for you! *cue Marvin Sapp*
-Even though we're years apart, thanks for being an all-around roadie. I can't believe how cool you've grown up to be.
-I appreciate you gossiping and talking sh*t with me in corners-together we are fabulous and snazzy people!
-Thank you for your kind words. I never saw you again, but what you said and the fact that you said it at all really touched me.
-Thanks for being a great mentor, great teacher, and for not judging me when I cussed him out in front of you. You give me confidence as a writer.
-Sometimes I wish I had your independent confidence.
-Thanks for telling me my jeans are too big.
-We always have SO much fun in the car on the way home!
-I have no idea why you still like me enough to be my friend, but I love you and am glad that you are.
-You're the most poised and classy lady I've ever met...I'm glad you got married and started a family like you've always wanted.
-Because of you, I found a career path--when I start my own magazine or business, you're the first person I'm hiring.
-You two are the best parents a girl could have.
I feel all merry inside. Which is good because I still have shopping and Christmas-y things to do and need that extra sprinkle of holiday cheer--at this moment, teeth are unbrushed and pajamas may be still on. Maybe I'll liveblog Christmas tomorrow (ha ha, Christmas is tomorrow, yay!).
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Pre-Holiday Rambling
Grievances:
-Sometimes you are a selfish brat who deserves a good, hard, pinch.
-Please, just...be quiet and let me do me.
-You did that just to fuck with me, didn't you? You smarmy, hateful bastard, you.
-We take you for granted and kind of treat you bad, but I love you more than words can say.
Okay. Glad THAT's over with. Because today was a good day and airing out my grievances is just a small part of it. Let's see...Youngest Sister, my mom, and I got our hair done today which...took awhile. Freshly blow-dried, my hair takes on an unfortunate mullet personality. Also, I realized all of my jeans are about a size too big. They were loose even before I lost five pounds--which, by some Christmas miracle, I totally did--because I have a habit of buying clothes, especially pants, a leeetle too big. They fit adequately in the store, then as I wear and wear and wear them, they start to droop and get baggy. Like, there is one pair I can put on without unbuttoning them. Jeans are supposed to be a bit tight when you try them on 'cause they stretch, but because I have a fear of Dunlap's disease, when I try on a pair of pants I suddenly get a whatiftheyshrinkandIlooklikeasausage panic attack and go up a size, which means I have a closet full saggy jeans. The next time I go to Old Navy I'm going to have to force myself to get a pair that fits fits. Clearly my issues extend far and wide, even into purchasing denim. This is why I like sweatpants.
Perhaps I lost those five pounds trekking through the neighborhood [ok, I took Precious the dog for a walk last week], which is less like a friendly subdivision and more like evil, mountaneous, snowy terrain these days. It won't stop snowing! It has snowed every day since Thursday night--which makes driving or walking outside a nice [dangerous and kind of scary] adventure worthy of only my Ugg boots as suitable footwear. But secretly, it's kind of fun to walk/lunge/jump/stomp through 2 feet of snow. Plus, it's so pretty outside, from the warmth of a house, to look out and see houses lit up against the fluffy white backdrop like a snowglobe.
A few weeks ago, I guess my dad started reading Magic Johnson's book about how he makes his money (here's the key, people: ownership. Think big.) and really liked it. Dad's always been a Magic fan--they were even at Michigan State together (at the signing, Magic had on a MSU sweatshirt). This evening, Dad and I braved the snow and went to Barnes and Noble where No. 32 himself was signing books. Well, the newspaper said he'd only sign books, but Magic was such a good sport that he signed shirts, magazines, basketballs, etc--seriously, some people had like 12 books, and Magic signed them all. I told him I was a Sports Journalism major, and he was impressed (like every other male is when I tell them that) and he posed for a picture with Dad and I. It was funny because both him and Dad are super-tall so I stood in the middle. He's cool people--add him next to Mark Texiera (how about those Yankees?), Gayle Sayers, and Joe Torre on the list of Really Nice Sports Guys. And yes, I am name-dropping. Deal with it.
Sidebar: a lot of people were wearing Pistons gear like, "especially" to meet Magic, and I was just thinking, um why? It's not like he played for Detroit. And I mean, come on, Pistons vs Lakers is a CLASSIC rivalry. Derr.
Speaking of the Pistons, I cannot effing wait to go to the game. If I think about it too much I'll pass out from excitement. Even though they have work to do in this nasty transition period. But here is the mark of a true fan: you don't disappear when things get tough. And right now, things are tough.
Sidebar: I'm watching the Pistons game right now (we won, thank God), but why does the camera follow a player until RIGHT before he takes his jersey off as he heads into the locker room? Just to mess with us, that's why.
Last night, I stayed up until 5am browsing shirts, jackets, underwear, nightgowns, and jewelry that I can't exactly afford at the moment. Why I torture myself, I have no idea. I actually kind of hate buying clothes, to be truthful. I think I might start buying clothes online and get the twofold bonus of a) saving myself a headache and 2) getting packages in the mail. The idea of clothes makes me happy but I am soooo not a fashion girl. I'd rather buy books, makeup, bargain bin DVDs, or, um, food. Oooooh...food...like bubble tea and chocolate cake, yum...
In case you haven't noticed, I'm going through a bit of a snit with my writing (the snit being that I think it sucks) so we'll just have to make do with these posts until I Find Myself. I think I've been lost for awhile.
-Sometimes you are a selfish brat who deserves a good, hard, pinch.
-Please, just...be quiet and let me do me.
-You did that just to fuck with me, didn't you? You smarmy, hateful bastard, you.
-We take you for granted and kind of treat you bad, but I love you more than words can say.
Okay. Glad THAT's over with. Because today was a good day and airing out my grievances is just a small part of it. Let's see...Youngest Sister, my mom, and I got our hair done today which...took awhile. Freshly blow-dried, my hair takes on an unfortunate mullet personality. Also, I realized all of my jeans are about a size too big. They were loose even before I lost five pounds--which, by some Christmas miracle, I totally did--because I have a habit of buying clothes, especially pants, a leeetle too big. They fit adequately in the store, then as I wear and wear and wear them, they start to droop and get baggy. Like, there is one pair I can put on without unbuttoning them. Jeans are supposed to be a bit tight when you try them on 'cause they stretch, but because I have a fear of Dunlap's disease, when I try on a pair of pants I suddenly get a whatiftheyshrinkandIlooklikeasausage panic attack and go up a size, which means I have a closet full saggy jeans. The next time I go to Old Navy I'm going to have to force myself to get a pair that fits fits. Clearly my issues extend far and wide, even into purchasing denim. This is why I like sweatpants.
Perhaps I lost those five pounds trekking through the neighborhood [ok, I took Precious the dog for a walk last week], which is less like a friendly subdivision and more like evil, mountaneous, snowy terrain these days. It won't stop snowing! It has snowed every day since Thursday night--which makes driving or walking outside a nice [dangerous and kind of scary] adventure worthy of only my Ugg boots as suitable footwear. But secretly, it's kind of fun to walk/lunge/jump/stomp through 2 feet of snow. Plus, it's so pretty outside, from the warmth of a house, to look out and see houses lit up against the fluffy white backdrop like a snowglobe.
A few weeks ago, I guess my dad started reading Magic Johnson's book about how he makes his money (here's the key, people: ownership. Think big.) and really liked it. Dad's always been a Magic fan--they were even at Michigan State together (at the signing, Magic had on a MSU sweatshirt). This evening, Dad and I braved the snow and went to Barnes and Noble where No. 32 himself was signing books. Well, the newspaper said he'd only sign books, but Magic was such a good sport that he signed shirts, magazines, basketballs, etc--seriously, some people had like 12 books, and Magic signed them all. I told him I was a Sports Journalism major, and he was impressed (like every other male is when I tell them that) and he posed for a picture with Dad and I. It was funny because both him and Dad are super-tall so I stood in the middle. He's cool people--add him next to Mark Texiera (how about those Yankees?), Gayle Sayers, and Joe Torre on the list of Really Nice Sports Guys. And yes, I am name-dropping. Deal with it.
Sidebar: a lot of people were wearing Pistons gear like, "especially" to meet Magic, and I was just thinking, um why? It's not like he played for Detroit. And I mean, come on, Pistons vs Lakers is a CLASSIC rivalry. Derr.
Speaking of the Pistons, I cannot effing wait to go to the game. If I think about it too much I'll pass out from excitement. Even though they have work to do in this nasty transition period. But here is the mark of a true fan: you don't disappear when things get tough. And right now, things are tough.
Sidebar: I'm watching the Pistons game right now (we won, thank God), but why does the camera follow a player until RIGHT before he takes his jersey off as he heads into the locker room? Just to mess with us, that's why.
Last night, I stayed up until 5am browsing shirts, jackets, underwear, nightgowns, and jewelry that I can't exactly afford at the moment. Why I torture myself, I have no idea. I actually kind of hate buying clothes, to be truthful. I think I might start buying clothes online and get the twofold bonus of a) saving myself a headache and 2) getting packages in the mail. The idea of clothes makes me happy but I am soooo not a fashion girl. I'd rather buy books, makeup, bargain bin DVDs, or, um, food. Oooooh...food...like bubble tea and chocolate cake, yum...
In case you haven't noticed, I'm going through a bit of a snit with my writing (the snit being that I think it sucks) so we'll just have to make do with these posts until I Find Myself. I think I've been lost for awhile.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
All in the Family
I can't write. My words look stupid when I read them. I was going to write a filler post with a handy-dandy meme lovingly hijacked from Eb at RBW and One Ten, but as I started to fill it out, unbearable sadness flooded me. The first question got me: "10 things you wish you could say to 10 different people." My responses were more like confessions, no doubt fueled by the annoying fuckery going on at my house at the moment, therefore making them excessively negative. I just feel...low. Going to school far away did more good than I would have imagined; made me see how sheltered by the desire to please my parents I was. When I'm at school I think that I'm taking steps towards some liberation, but every time I come back home, I end up under their thumb once again. I was the good child so I don't know how to rebel properly. I feel trapped here, especially watching my parents argue with my sisters--that's the worst. Like I said, I was the good kid, but aside from getting me a scholarship into a fine institution, following the rules got me nowhere. I can't go into a store and buy something without first wondering what my mom will think. We can all gather that 95% of the time I absolutely love my family and I know how lucky I am to have such a close-knit one, but I can't help but feel crippled by its expectations sometimes. Almost like I have this inane "fear" of speaking out against my parents; I'll think something like, "you're nagging!" or worse, "you aren't here enough" and then immediately feel this unimaginable guilt--it's been made this horrifying sin to think ill of my parents at any given moment. Do you see how much pressure that is? And the fact that I end up forsaking my own will to avoid argument and succumb to my parent/mom's will so much scares me for the future--what am I going to do when it's time to plan my wedding or decorate my house? I hate that every decision I make that my mom doesn't agree with is equated to "you're just doing this to spite me." I guess I'm seeking independence. The knowledge that I'm allowed to be angry at my parents without the world stopping or me being a horrible, ungrateful child.
The next time I come home, I'm staying in a hotel.
The next time I come home, I'm staying in a hotel.
Friday, December 19, 2008
The NBA, Where Cliches Happen
10. "...they/we just have to find a way to win."
9. "...I can't take anything away from [opponent]: they played a great game, executed well."
8. "...we were able to finish strong and get/come through with the win/get the job done."
7. "...it was a dogfight/heckuva basketball game!"
6. "...with a COMMANDING 3-1 lead."
5. "...in this PIVOTAL game 5."
4. "...a double-overtime thriller!"
3. "...Lebron James with NO REGARD FOR HUMAN LIFE!!" (Note: Gag me.)
2. "...we just have to take it one game at a time."
And of course, the post-game press conference staple:
1. "Both teams played hard."
9. "...I can't take anything away from [opponent]: they played a great game, executed well."
8. "...we were able to finish strong and get/come through with the win/get the job done."
7. "...it was a dogfight/heckuva basketball game!"
6. "...with a COMMANDING 3-1 lead."
5. "...in this PIVOTAL game 5."
4. "...a double-overtime thriller!"
3. "...Lebron James with NO REGARD FOR HUMAN LIFE!!" (Note: Gag me.)
2. "...we just have to take it one game at a time."
And of course, the post-game press conference staple:
1. "Both teams played hard."
The Blog is Mightier Than the Pillow
Let it be known, I seriously have a BOMB-ASS blogroll.
You guys are poignant. You guys are funnyistic. YOU GUYS ARE KEEPING ME AWAKE AT 5:03 IN THE MORNING WITH YOUR HILARIOUSITY.
So knock it off. Damn.
Except don't. Seriously, keep up the good work and sh*t.
You guys are poignant. You guys are funnyistic. YOU GUYS ARE KEEPING ME AWAKE AT 5:03 IN THE MORNING WITH YOUR HILARIOUSITY.
So knock it off. Damn.
Except don't. Seriously, keep up the good work and sh*t.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Winners of the "Stupid Ass Parents" Contest
Sometimes, people shock me with their stupidity. But, in doing so, sometimes the dissenters shock me in a good way, too. That was the case with this whole "dumbass parents who named their kid 'Adolf Hitler'" drama. There's not a WORD to describe how I feel about the fucked-up-icityosityness of those parents. Little Alfie might get his ass beat once he starts school, even though he didn't choose his name. And I bet when the class covers WWII the teacher will be throwing her parents a MEAN side-eye in spirit. Sigh. Ramifications, people. Just...wow.
Here's my opinion on all this (key word: opinion).
Racism is still alive and present, contrary to popular belief. I've been lucky enough to never have been outrightly discriminated against, but I still get the *side-eye* too much for comfort when I'm in certain parts of Southern State, and it's not because I'm a snazzy dresser. And it seems sometimes that when there's outward or newsworthy racism, an annoying few commenters ('cause I gauge public opinion from the internet, natch) are all "well, why CAN'T black people act right?" So when this happened, I almost expected commenters to be all "well it's free speech" or "he said he has black friends" or even still, "but for real, for real, why CAN'T black people act right?!" But I have to say I was pleasantly surprised to see that there are still some lines that shant be crossed in terms of race, white supremacy being one of them.
'Cause I have to be honest: skinheads/that Aryan shit/supremacists scare the HELL out of me (seeing as I'm black and all, lol)...has anyone seen Higher Learning? Fun Fact: Ty Ty Baby was in it.
And what a scintillating performance she gave.
Anyway, in this age of free speech and whatnot, where the KKK is allowed to have rallies and has the gall to ask BHO to speak at its convention (for reals, google that shit. Update: scratch that, don't google it. You'll just get mad. Trust me), stuff slips in through the cracks every now and then on a technicality. I don't think about it often 'cause these people are extremists (hopefully/probably) in the minority, but it's still scary. But the public outcry from this story gave me comfort that, yes, there is still racism, but no sir, y'all are on another level of "that shit is NOT okay."
Not today, not tomorrow, not on payday.
And also, someone cyber-asked if anyone's ever seen like, well-to-do white supremacists. Like, ones with a respectable-to-profitable occupation, decent taste in clothing, or decent dental care (seriously, click on that link and get into those teeth. Pause for effect.)? I think not. Even the guy in Higher Learning had an unfortunate ponytail/pasty skin situation. This answer exacted the conclusion that white supremacy is a good example of, actually, an inferiority complex! Or Bottom of the Totem Pole Syndrome, where, essentially, they have literally NOTHING else going in any aspect of their sad lives, and only have "well, at least I'm white, therefore I'm better than most in my own way." Um, not really, but do you. Just keep that shit on your side of the farm, sir.
The journalist in me wants to interview these sad, sad people and kill them. With my intellectualosity, and poignant questions, of course! Again, I'm lucky, during the elections, a lot of my friends at My College were like, "I never knew how racist my people back home are!" and I was all, "Really? Damn. I know some slightly ignorant but well-meaning people, but they ain't outright** racist. Sucks to be you, let's go get some food." That said, I don't know what I would say if someone was outright racist to me. I don't mean saying something rude with underlying racial subtext but like, "you blacks sure are [insert insult here]." Especially now, with my HBCU-state of mind, which is quickly any "acceptable Negro" leftover from high school.
**Some make the argument that there are many "dinner table racists" who act tolerant but really are as racist as the day is long. That may be true, but I can't worry about that--I consider that paranoid and plus, I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. When you make your prejudices known and it affects me, THEN we might [will] have a problem.
I wonder if I'll ever have to interview an Aryan Nation-supporter or something, though. Truthfully, it'd be kind of fascinating--in a sick way. I really want to know the mindset of a racist person, want to know why they think they way they do and think it's ok. The first thing I'd ask would be, "you know you're probably going to Hell, right?"
Ok, maybe not on-camera.
But in this case, I would ask, "What reason would you give a Holocaust survivor who wanted to know why you named your daughter after the man responsible for what was probably the worst experience of their life, 6 million others' lives, and brought shame to an entire country?"
Eh, the parents are probably the type who think the Holocaust numbers were exaggerated, that Hitler had his attractive points, or even, more infuriatingly, that the whole thing never happened. On second thought, I couldn't interview them for too long; I would probably jump across the table and there would be slapping involved.
Ugh. I cannot think about this anymore. These fucktards are messing up my chi, when I should be thinking happy holiday thoughts. And about the Sloppy Joes I just made. Plus, I had good news but I had to call foul on this one. A double "eff you" goes to the Campbells for pushing back my good news. See what you've started?
And I thought naming your kid "Bronx Mowgli" "God'Iss Love" or "Audio Science" was bad. Or Shaniqua.
PS: there were more than 72 celebrity babies born this year. Got-dayum!
PPS: Cedric the Entertainer named his daughter Lucky! Go off!
PPPS: On second thought, I don't mind the name Bronx Mowgli. I like New York and I like The Jungle Book.
Here's my opinion on all this (key word: opinion).
Racism is still alive and present, contrary to popular belief. I've been lucky enough to never have been outrightly discriminated against, but I still get the *side-eye* too much for comfort when I'm in certain parts of Southern State, and it's not because I'm a snazzy dresser. And it seems sometimes that when there's outward or newsworthy racism, an annoying few commenters ('cause I gauge public opinion from the internet, natch) are all "well, why CAN'T black people act right?" So when this happened, I almost expected commenters to be all "well it's free speech" or "he said he has black friends" or even still, "but for real, for real, why CAN'T black people act right?!" But I have to say I was pleasantly surprised to see that there are still some lines that shant be crossed in terms of race, white supremacy being one of them.
'Cause I have to be honest: skinheads/that Aryan shit/supremacists scare the HELL out of me (seeing as I'm black and all, lol)...has anyone seen Higher Learning? Fun Fact: Ty Ty Baby was in it.
And what a scintillating performance she gave.
Anyway, in this age of free speech and whatnot, where the KKK is allowed to have rallies and has the gall to ask BHO to speak at its convention (for reals, google that shit. Update: scratch that, don't google it. You'll just get mad. Trust me), stuff slips in through the cracks every now and then on a technicality. I don't think about it often 'cause these people are extremists (hopefully/probably) in the minority, but it's still scary. But the public outcry from this story gave me comfort that, yes, there is still racism, but no sir, y'all are on another level of "that shit is NOT okay."
Not today, not tomorrow, not on payday.
And also, someone cyber-asked if anyone's ever seen like, well-to-do white supremacists. Like, ones with a respectable-to-profitable occupation, decent taste in clothing, or decent dental care (seriously, click on that link and get into those teeth. Pause for effect.)? I think not. Even the guy in Higher Learning had an unfortunate ponytail/pasty skin situation. This answer exacted the conclusion that white supremacy is a good example of, actually, an inferiority complex! Or Bottom of the Totem Pole Syndrome, where, essentially, they have literally NOTHING else going in any aspect of their sad lives, and only have "well, at least I'm white, therefore I'm better than most in my own way." Um, not really, but do you. Just keep that shit on your side of the farm, sir.
The journalist in me wants to interview these sad, sad people and kill them. With my intellectualosity, and poignant questions, of course! Again, I'm lucky, during the elections, a lot of my friends at My College were like, "I never knew how racist my people back home are!" and I was all, "Really? Damn. I know some slightly ignorant but well-meaning people, but they ain't outright** racist. Sucks to be you, let's go get some food." That said, I don't know what I would say if someone was outright racist to me. I don't mean saying something rude with underlying racial subtext but like, "you blacks sure are [insert insult here]." Especially now, with my HBCU-state of mind, which is quickly any "acceptable Negro" leftover from high school.
**Some make the argument that there are many "dinner table racists" who act tolerant but really are as racist as the day is long. That may be true, but I can't worry about that--I consider that paranoid and plus, I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. When you make your prejudices known and it affects me, THEN we might [will] have a problem.
I wonder if I'll ever have to interview an Aryan Nation-supporter or something, though. Truthfully, it'd be kind of fascinating--in a sick way. I really want to know the mindset of a racist person, want to know why they think they way they do and think it's ok. The first thing I'd ask would be, "you know you're probably going to Hell, right?"
Ok, maybe not on-camera.
But in this case, I would ask, "What reason would you give a Holocaust survivor who wanted to know why you named your daughter after the man responsible for what was probably the worst experience of their life, 6 million others' lives, and brought shame to an entire country?"
Eh, the parents are probably the type who think the Holocaust numbers were exaggerated, that Hitler had his attractive points, or even, more infuriatingly, that the whole thing never happened. On second thought, I couldn't interview them for too long; I would probably jump across the table and there would be slapping involved.
Ugh. I cannot think about this anymore. These fucktards are messing up my chi, when I should be thinking happy holiday thoughts. And about the Sloppy Joes I just made. Plus, I had good news but I had to call foul on this one. A double "eff you" goes to the Campbells for pushing back my good news. See what you've started?
And I thought naming your kid "Bronx Mowgli" "God'Iss Love" or "Audio Science" was bad. Or Shaniqua.
PS: there were more than 72 celebrity babies born this year. Got-dayum!
PPS: Cedric the Entertainer named his daughter Lucky! Go off!
PPPS: On second thought, I don't mind the name Bronx Mowgli. I like New York and I like The Jungle Book.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Train Wreck (followed by happier holiday post)
I am home, folks. Praise Jeebus.
A lot of you (ok, nobody) asked how that thing went, and, to put it mildly, it was disastrous. I showed up 15 minutes late to the interview--thanks a bundle, inept drivers and pouring rain--and she basically was unimpressed from there...you know how PR people are. Not quite friendly except when they have to "network" and even then they don't exactly give off raging tides of goodwill towards mankind. So, yeah, even though I gave what I thought were amazing answers to her questions and having secured a great word-of-mouth recommendation from Hot Boss, I still sulked out of there embarrassed, forlorn, and probably without a spring internship, thinking, "I suck." What a way to end my semester...thank God a few hours later I was on an airplane headed home.
I have, then, resolved to use this time off to resolve the gaping holes in my career strategy. I'm going to work on things like being aggressive and proactive, following up, making and keeping contacts, and figuring out, once and for all, just what the bloody hell I want to do with my life after college. I feel like Bridget Jones, except I already have a diary (and you guys, of course).
I still feel rather slacker-y and dumb being here without any prospects on the horizon. Even the fact that the holidays are my favorite time of year can't keep me from feeling like a partial, if not total, failure. Like I'm behind or something, like I'm not legit...sometimes I think that I don't really have the chops to make it in the business and all my previous gigs have just been luck. Sigh. It's the end of the year, I suppose, that's making me all reflective of the past year, and how I wish some things could have gone differently in order to yield a better outcome or at least make me feel better about myself now...does that make sense? I want to be better, of course, I just can't quite figure out how. It's a control thing--figuring out what I can change and what I can't. Maybe I'll get a self-help book; I tend to wander around aimlessly with nothing but an idea and a song in my head, instead of actually having a solid game plan.
Ooh, speaking of games, here's how I can cheer myself up: I'm going to a Pistons game next month. I haven't been in years. God I can't wait...
Have we been making our Christmas lists and checking them twice, dears? A digital camera, both Kanye West's and Fall Out Boy's new CDs, and either season 5 of One Tree Hill or season 1 of the "Bernie Mac Show" are all on mine...please share! I'm doing Secret Santa with my sisters, like we do every year (yes there are only 3 of us. Shut up), but this year, we're thinking about adding Little Cousin to the circle. Could be fun. I always cheat on SS anyway, and buy both my sisters gifts. I can't help it, I absolutely LOVE giving gifts...
What could also be fun is spending hours at the mall, picking out presents, then driving through the snow, wrapping them up, then debating whether or not to put them under the tree now or wait until the 24th, and seeing my fam's faces when they open my (yet to be bought) super-cool gifts...OMG someone just put on the Temptations' Christmas CD, and the other day at CVS I heard "Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays" from N*SYNC's*** Christmas album, which I totally had, back in the day, ON CASSETTE, no less. I even had a dream that Justin (curly-haired JT, not buzz-cut JT) came home with me for the holidays. I HAVE to find that CD.
***Oh, God, I love N*SYNC...
Things I Cannot Wait For (besides the aforementioned, and besides presents)
-Hey Arnold Christmas episode
-the Rugrats Christmas epsode
-the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air Christmas episode
-Gossip Girl season 1 Christmas episode
-pecan pie
-Santa hats
-parties
-Celtics @ LA Lakers on Christmas
-annual family party games (don't hate)
I am so in my happy place right now.
PS: to any of our Jewish/non-Christmas celebrating brethren, my holiday greetings extend to you as well. Come one, come all, I say :)
A lot of you (ok, nobody) asked how that thing went, and, to put it mildly, it was disastrous. I showed up 15 minutes late to the interview--thanks a bundle, inept drivers and pouring rain--and she basically was unimpressed from there...you know how PR people are. Not quite friendly except when they have to "network" and even then they don't exactly give off raging tides of goodwill towards mankind. So, yeah, even though I gave what I thought were amazing answers to her questions and having secured a great word-of-mouth recommendation from Hot Boss, I still sulked out of there embarrassed, forlorn, and probably without a spring internship, thinking, "I suck." What a way to end my semester...thank God a few hours later I was on an airplane headed home.
I have, then, resolved to use this time off to resolve the gaping holes in my career strategy. I'm going to work on things like being aggressive and proactive, following up, making and keeping contacts, and figuring out, once and for all, just what the bloody hell I want to do with my life after college. I feel like Bridget Jones, except I already have a diary (and you guys, of course).
I still feel rather slacker-y and dumb being here without any prospects on the horizon. Even the fact that the holidays are my favorite time of year can't keep me from feeling like a partial, if not total, failure. Like I'm behind or something, like I'm not legit...sometimes I think that I don't really have the chops to make it in the business and all my previous gigs have just been luck. Sigh. It's the end of the year, I suppose, that's making me all reflective of the past year, and how I wish some things could have gone differently in order to yield a better outcome or at least make me feel better about myself now...does that make sense? I want to be better, of course, I just can't quite figure out how. It's a control thing--figuring out what I can change and what I can't. Maybe I'll get a self-help book; I tend to wander around aimlessly with nothing but an idea and a song in my head, instead of actually having a solid game plan.
Ooh, speaking of games, here's how I can cheer myself up: I'm going to a Pistons game next month. I haven't been in years. God I can't wait...
Have we been making our Christmas lists and checking them twice, dears? A digital camera, both Kanye West's and Fall Out Boy's new CDs, and either season 5 of One Tree Hill or season 1 of the "Bernie Mac Show" are all on mine...please share! I'm doing Secret Santa with my sisters, like we do every year (yes there are only 3 of us. Shut up), but this year, we're thinking about adding Little Cousin to the circle. Could be fun. I always cheat on SS anyway, and buy both my sisters gifts. I can't help it, I absolutely LOVE giving gifts...
What could also be fun is spending hours at the mall, picking out presents, then driving through the snow, wrapping them up, then debating whether or not to put them under the tree now or wait until the 24th, and seeing my fam's faces when they open my (yet to be bought) super-cool gifts...OMG someone just put on the Temptations' Christmas CD, and the other day at CVS I heard "Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays" from N*SYNC's*** Christmas album, which I totally had, back in the day, ON CASSETTE, no less. I even had a dream that Justin (curly-haired JT, not buzz-cut JT) came home with me for the holidays. I HAVE to find that CD.
***Oh, God, I love N*SYNC...
Things I Cannot Wait For (besides the aforementioned, and besides presents)
-Hey Arnold Christmas episode
-the Rugrats Christmas epsode
-the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air Christmas episode
-Gossip Girl season 1 Christmas episode
-pecan pie
-Santa hats
-parties
-Celtics @ LA Lakers on Christmas
-annual family party games (don't hate)
I am so in my happy place right now.
PS: to any of our Jewish/non-Christmas celebrating brethren, my holiday greetings extend to you as well. Come one, come all, I say :)
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Roll On
By tomorrow afternoon I could be a high-roller or a bummy college kid. I don't want to jinx anything, of course, so you'll have to wait for deets. Either way it goes, by tomorrow evening I will be en route Back Home to the Midwest, where it's, oh, probably 25 and snowy. And Christmas is coming! And my one-year blogversary! Oh, yes. I will miss, however, Southern State's cute boys and abundance of gay men. There aren't nearly enough of either where I'm going.
I. CANNOT. WAIT. When I first saw this video I just about died...then yelled out "I've been there!" to almost every landmark that came onscreen. Say what you will about him, but I fucks with Kid Rock, especially after this vid...
Sheeza, I've got a lot of packing to do. I never remember what I need for my month-long stay at home, so I end up with sweatshirts, my entire underwear drawer, and barely any real clothes. Lord.
I was reading Amy's like list (adorable, btw), and one of hers was "goodnight texts." Sigh. I adore those, even better when accompanied by a "good morning, babe" text the next morning. It's the little shit like that I miss (I have to be slightly vulgar, see, to keep from being overly sentimental. These memories are tryin' to test my gangsta, and I won't have it). So I don't sink into "slightly depressed mode," throw me a lifeline, ye merry commenters. Give me some good things about being single. Sleeping in the middle of the bed, eating the last piece of cake, burping for the world to hear, you know, stuff like that. God bless in advance for keeping my soul intact.
I. CANNOT. WAIT. When I first saw this video I just about died...then yelled out "I've been there!" to almost every landmark that came onscreen. Say what you will about him, but I fucks with Kid Rock, especially after this vid...
Sheeza, I've got a lot of packing to do. I never remember what I need for my month-long stay at home, so I end up with sweatshirts, my entire underwear drawer, and barely any real clothes. Lord.
I was reading Amy's like list (adorable, btw), and one of hers was "goodnight texts." Sigh. I adore those, even better when accompanied by a "good morning, babe" text the next morning. It's the little shit like that I miss (I have to be slightly vulgar, see, to keep from being overly sentimental. These memories are tryin' to test my gangsta, and I won't have it). So I don't sink into "slightly depressed mode," throw me a lifeline, ye merry commenters. Give me some good things about being single. Sleeping in the middle of the bed, eating the last piece of cake, burping for the world to hear, you know, stuff like that. God bless in advance for keeping my soul intact.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Tag, I'm It!
Both Jayne Dough and Vixen Chick tagged my lazy arse, so here we go:
1. I get my best work done late at night.
2. Sometimes I feel like I'm the one taking all the pictures in life, so much that I'm not in any of them. (figuratively and literally)
3. Being kissed on the neck is my favorite feeling in the world.
4. I think I'm a silly girl wrapped up in a bad girl disguised as a good girl.
5. When I have other people in my car, I get really paranoid about my driving ability (or, ahem, lack thereof).
6. I find unpolished toenails grody.
7. I have a song in mind that, if a man were to serenade me with it out of his own volition, I will marry him.
8. Sometimes I get this idea in my head that there's a glamorous quality to my bad decisions. I should work on that.
Bonus: Being alone with a basketball game on TV armed with pizza and my laptop is probably my favorite way to spend a Saturday night.
Daily Double: I'm weirdly fascinated by, and will have many a long discussion about, all things sex-related. Makes for snappy dinner conversation, let me tell you.
I could go on and on, but let's see here...if they're up for it, I tag and implore to write 7 random things about themselves...
Amy
Bobby2010
Dbaby
Luvvie
Eb the Celeb
Molly
Vittoria
1. I get my best work done late at night.
2. Sometimes I feel like I'm the one taking all the pictures in life, so much that I'm not in any of them. (figuratively and literally)
3. Being kissed on the neck is my favorite feeling in the world.
4. I think I'm a silly girl wrapped up in a bad girl disguised as a good girl.
5. When I have other people in my car, I get really paranoid about my driving ability (or, ahem, lack thereof).
6. I find unpolished toenails grody.
7. I have a song in mind that, if a man were to serenade me with it out of his own volition, I will marry him.
8. Sometimes I get this idea in my head that there's a glamorous quality to my bad decisions. I should work on that.
Bonus: Being alone with a basketball game on TV armed with pizza and my laptop is probably my favorite way to spend a Saturday night.
Daily Double: I'm weirdly fascinated by, and will have many a long discussion about, all things sex-related. Makes for snappy dinner conversation, let me tell you.
I could go on and on, but let's see here...if they're up for it, I tag and implore to write 7 random things about themselves...
Amy
Bobby2010
Dbaby
Luvvie
Eb the Celeb
Molly
Vittoria
Friday, December 5, 2008
My Own Best Friend
I don't quite know where this is coming from, but...
Sometimes I feel like the decisions I make aren't my own. Like a lot of my actions are determined by so many other things besides what I actually want. I feel like I'm censored to the point where I have to manipulate myself into thinking that the things I do are what I want when sometimes nothing is farther from the truth. I recognize this because the moments that I do what I really want are so joyous and precious and just...free. Before I have to deal with the backlash that unfortunately seem to go along with doing whatever the hell I want, by myself or in whoever's company in which I choose to be. Really and truly doing what I want is harder than it seems, or maybe I'm making it that way. I don't know...the non-ability to decide what I really want has plagued me for awhile, and I guess this particular insecurity is rearing its ugly head once more, just in time for final exams.
I'm stressy...I have papers to write and tests to study for and I just really want to go home, away from these people and this...place. I'll keep you posted on whether or not I lose my mind.
PS--I'm starved for affection [horny]. Fuck.
Sometimes I feel like the decisions I make aren't my own. Like a lot of my actions are determined by so many other things besides what I actually want. I feel like I'm censored to the point where I have to manipulate myself into thinking that the things I do are what I want when sometimes nothing is farther from the truth. I recognize this because the moments that I do what I really want are so joyous and precious and just...free. Before I have to deal with the backlash that unfortunately seem to go along with doing whatever the hell I want, by myself or in whoever's company in which I choose to be. Really and truly doing what I want is harder than it seems, or maybe I'm making it that way. I don't know...the non-ability to decide what I really want has plagued me for awhile, and I guess this particular insecurity is rearing its ugly head once more, just in time for final exams.
I'm stressy...I have papers to write and tests to study for and I just really want to go home, away from these people and this...place. I'll keep you posted on whether or not I lose my mind.
PS--I'm starved for affection [horny]. Fuck.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Someone Enlighten Me
While talking about sex (what else is new?) with Top Chef, Motown, Sistah Girl, and the Artist, I learned that one tactic for muffling the woman's loudness during fuckey times is to stuff her panties in her mouth (!!!!!!!!!!).
I have to ask...
DO PEOPLE REALLY DO THIS?!?!
My soul needs to know.
I have to ask...
DO PEOPLE REALLY DO THIS?!?!
My soul needs to know.
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