Friday, January 30, 2009

Tonight's Plans

...involve a basketball game and a pizza in the oven. And Cheetos (duh). And bragging to myself about how I wrote the html code for "basketball game" because of my new job that taught me how. And maybe later some porn.

I am such a single man.

Un/slightly related: Lil' Wayne leads Grammy nominations with eight nods. Lil' Wayne recently held his own on ESPN's First Take with Skip Bayless (he picked every game right--except for the Ravens winning it all). Kate Couric recently interviewed Lil' Wayne as part of a Grammy special. But the response?

Usually nothing but hateration. Seriously, I was on YBF and there were only negative responses to the preview of the Couric interview, which I thought wasn't bad (I've heard way dumber things said in interviews). Not to mention, there was little to no press when Young Money was featured on ESPN, aka the Worldwide Leader in Sports. He blogs for ESPN and he's the voice in that Gatorade commercial. Now, this is just my opinion, and I just started liking Lil' Wayne last year and I don't know how he lives his life, but when you lead the Grammys, have a number #1 album that moves major units for a good minute and make it to ESPN, well dammit, you're somebody. Wayne falls into the love-him or hate-him categories, I think, but he's being recognized by the underground/chitlin circuit AND the Grammys-people, Katie Couric and ESPN! Give credit where credit is due and cut him some slack, is what I'm saying. Lil' Wayne is the Allen Iverson of rap--the "bad boys" of the club that can't win for losing.

I hope Weezy F. Baby sweeps the Grammys.

How cute was it when he called her "Miss Katie" at 1:17? That is some straight New Orleans' country-boy sh*t if I've ever heard it.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Queries of Courtship

For all my press-and-curl gals:

When spending the night at your man's house or vice versa, do you wrap your hair or what?

For those who enjoy hamburgers like I do:

Say you're on a date and things unexpectedly get a little hot and heavy. As in hands-under-dress possibility. One problem: you're wearing Spanx. Do you go in the ladies' room and stuff 'em in your purse?

Part Deux: menfolk, what would YOU do if you discovered Spanx during an impromptu trip South o' the Border?

I mean, you can't exactly ignore them. Those suckers are tight.

Do tell.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Patrolling for Slimmies

**Bonus points and congratulatory Cheetos to the person knows what TV show the title of this post is from!**

Just so y'all think I'm not exaggerating, during today's LONG Paper Meeting I decided to perform at evaluatory evaluation of the menfolk of the newspaper staff, you know, to see if I'm missing something. Survey says that no, I am not, even without factoring looks into the equation. I know, I know, I am all heart.

Starting from the left corner and going around the circle:

-Mr. Always in a Suit: Let's be honest: too intelligent. And has a white girlfriend.

-Mr. Psuedo-Worldly Journalist: Long-winded, presumptuous and probably has d*ck-cheese.

-Mr. I Can't Say Hello EVER: Um, if he grew a little and wiped the smug "I'm in a fraternity" look off of his face.

-Mr. Arts Editor: Gay.

-Mr. Red Vans and Fresh Line-up: Probably gay.

-Mr. I Wear Braces: Always nervous. Poor guy.

-Mr. Can't Remember His Name Even Though He's My Writer: Too quiet. Could probably slap him around a little, too, which is never attractive.

-Mr. Other Sports Guy: Always dusty and crusty. Plus we got into that huge fight that one time.

-Mr. Wears the Funny Furry Hat:

But there was some silver lining:

-Mr. Virtually Ignored Me at an Awards Banquet Once: Would secretly let him bang, but we'd have to take separate cars and he'd have to sneak out the back door.

Although my survey was funny at the moment, it did heavily reinforce the sad fact that the search, indeed, goes on. It is a good thing that, even in These Trying Times, I still have my wit.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Life's Questions

If you had to choose...
  • ...between being a bad person and only attracting bad people, which would you choose?
  • be crazy-stylish and beautiful but never attract anyone or being ugly, with an ugly partner and never considered attractive to anyone ever again, which would you choose?
  • be forever single but always surrounded by happy couples, or be with someone who you always suspected was cheating on you?
Ms. Politics, Cali Girl, and I went to the club last night. We decided that unless a girl is a) gorgeous of face, 2) dreamy of figure, or c) trashy of attire, chances are she will leave feeling like there is an LOSER sign stamped on her forehead. Oh, she may have had a great time dancing to "Single Ladies," "My President is Black," and "This is How We Do It." She may have even found someone to dance with during the "Bump and Grind"** and "Chopped and Screwed" portion of the evening. But, later on, in the car, on the way to Waffle House, she will be slightly lonely (and COLD). Because the club is essentially the one place where men can make it painfully obvious that only the pretty, bodacious, or slutty need apply. It's like the forest in A Midsummer Night's Dream where all bets (chivalry, and rules) are off. Interesting.

**This song makes me want to do bad, bad things. It's SO cheesy but vintage R. Kelly is that GOOD good. Get into it.**

Sidenote: I am the total hobag who cannot dance alone during the "slow jams" section. Whatever. I accept full responsibility. However, when I do so, a proper dance partner would be nice. One of my pet peeves is when you are slow dancing [grinding] on a guy who won't dance with you but instead just wants you to dance against him, you know? He motions like he's dancing but is actually forgetting that crucial element of MOVEMENT. Like you are giving him a standing-up lap dance. I mean, I'm not trying to make love in the club or anything but damn! I wanted to turn around and scream, "YOU ARE WHACK." But instead I took the high road.

As far as weekends go, this one was kind of exuberant. It took me all day to recover. And guess what? Hopefully we can do it again...

PS: All funny club stories are welcome in the comments!

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Attention Seeker

So. I am drunk. I barely had any tequila. But I had rum. Ooooh yummy rummy. Rum and coke. I felt like Captain Jack Sparrow: "why is the rum always gone?" But it was delicioso. Muy sabroso. I wish I was in my own bed but whatevs.

This friend of an acquaintance was flirting with me ALL NIGHT. I was like yeah whatever buddy we know I like attention but he was doing the absolute most. Plus I think he's bi. As in, swings for both teams and was also flirting with my guy friends. But still all up in my grill.

I guess it didn't help that I am essentially wearing lingerie. And am, from what I've heard, a very cute drunk etc etc. This I know. I will continue but Top Chef is about to walk out the door.

We're supposed to be going to Pilates tomorrow. 3 hungover girls doing 100s should be a riot.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Next Up: Getting My Obama T-Shirt

Whew. That was a hectic few days. A lot of tears were almost-shed. Ok, I'm lie-telling. When the First Couple danced I cried a little. It's that black love...

My dumb ass missed the actual swearing-in: I was asleep, but I woke up in the middle of his speech and STILL got goosebumps. Then, later on at work, I youtubed the oath (*cringes at the awkward mess-up*) and watched a live-feed of the ball.

Ponder: there are big-screen TVs EVERYWHERE at work, yet I still had to watch the festivities on the internet during halftime of the game I was supposed to be watching. While getting furtive glances from my melanin-deprived co-workers. I was semi-loud, too, saying stuff like, "Ooh, look at Michelle's dress!" and "Aww, they're dancing" and "Omg Sasha and Malia are too CUTE." In my head I was thinking, "I DARE any of you to say something. NOT today."

Plus I had on my "Super Obama" pin.

Of course there are still some racist people out there saying dumb things, but that still doesn't change the fact that he's EVERYONE'S president...Obama is the, if I may be so bold, HBIC, and there ain't nothing y'all can do about it.

I can't help but feeling a crazy amount of pride about being black. For the longest time, a black president was this faraway, "someday" notion--a someday that no one but the most idealistic among us could see. It was the last threshold across which a black person could not or had not step. And I think it gave some people security: "Whew, black people are coming up, but we've still got the presidency." Well, not anymore. We are LEGIT, dammit. Too legit, in fact, to quit.

In terms of race, things are clearly nowhere near perfect. But all this, I think, allows for discussions about race to be had that white people/the majority never had to have before, which can only be a good thing. Where we could once push race under the rug, it is now front and center, unavoidable because the highest power in the free world belongs to a man with brown skin (like me!). Hopefully these developments will not only cast black people in a better light and change perceptions of us, but open the door for thoughtful discussions about race in which there is no right or wrong, no "why do black people do this or that" but honest dialogue.

My dad has an old, yellowed newspaper in the basement from the day Nelson Mandela was released from prison. Today I bought one of Barack Hussein Obama being sworn in as the first black president of the United States.

Welcome to the White House, Mr. President. We've been waiting for you.

Monday, January 19, 2009

A Little About "Meme" (Get it?)

Much love to the Brooklyn Boy for this meme! Read and be amazed while I watch the Lakers take on the Cavaliers (after spending ALL DAY at work watching four basketball games back-to-back. There is something wrong with me). Plus, tomorrow, we get to welcome Barack to the Oval Office! I'll be at work, waits for no man. Thank God for online TV!

1. How often does "this would make an awesome blog post" factor in to your decision-making process?

-Erm, when stuff happens I tend to think "ooh I can blog about this!" But in actuality, many times I just open up the comp and start writing...well, it's more like, I file interesting stuff away to write about later. If it's something I'm really passionate about, I know that if I write it right, the resulting post will be (hopefully!) awesome.

2. If one person were to find your blog, deduce it was you and read it in entirety, who would most send you into full-on crisis management, and why?

-That actually happened last year: Homeboy (new name in the unlikely event I mention him again: The Smoker) found it and 'twas pretty much disastrous. So I'd have to say if a guy that I have a crush on and wrote about read it, there would be a CODE-RED affair. But besides that I'd have to say--and it's so typical--my parents. Night-freaking-mare.

1. How long have you worn glasses?

*laughs* Oh, gosh...since I was 9 or 10, I think...and I'm 20 almost half my life! It's to the point where I think I look funny without them because I've worn 'em so long!

2. What's something about you most people don't/wouldn't notice, but you're quite proud of?

-Hmm...I can't think! Let's ab strength, maybe? I'm always eating and laying around so you wouldn't think it, but I can do sit-ups, crunches, leg lifts, all sorts of things. Now if I could get around to actually DOING them...I swear I have a six-pack under here...somewhere...

1. If, for the rest of your life, you could only ... read blogs without commenting or comment without being able to read anything but the post title, which would you choose and why?

-Read blogs without commenting all the way. I'm kind of a lurker by nature, anyway: sometimes people don't see me, but I sure as shootin' see them!

Here are the rules (I think): Write "interview me!" in your comment and I'll send you some questions. I hope y'all had...WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH KOBE???


PS--I'm gonna recap "The Game" again, I think...look out for it...

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Redirecting My Energy

You know how people always say about our time on Earth things like "if we're not looking for The One what are we really doing?"

I'm starting to think that's bullshit.

Love can't be all there is. It just can't be. Well, let me rephrase that. I think we think there's only one kind of love that we should be looking for: the kind that makes people get married and whatnot. What's would be more or just as efficient is a more philanthropic love, of which community service and paving the way for others is borne. I think if we spent half the time and effort we spend trying to get and maintain a relationship into bettering this place for generations to come, many of the world's major problems would be closer to being solved. And that stuff about "success means nothing without someone to share it with"? For me at least, I'd sleep well at night knowing that I'm positively impacting some part of the world in a big way, whether I'm sleeping alone or not. That, to me, is what made Mother Teresa and Ghandi and Queen Elizabeth so great: their love for mankind was bigger than the love for a man (or woman).

I'm only human, though. I'm thinking about going in to work on Valentine's Day just so I don't have to be around happy couples and whatnot. Of course I get lonely like everybody else. Many/most people turn to drugs, meaningless sex, or bad relationships to fill that void. I don't (for one thing I choose liquor--ha!). But seriously, though, what keeps me sane during those sometimes lonely nights is the thought that, after all, love isn't all there is.

And when that doesn't work, there's always Cheetos and Dog the Bounty Hunter.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Blogversary Delayed

Hey, all.

Happy anniversary to me! I am that girlfriend who is too busy to remember her anniversary. Shame on me. But mama's got to bring home the bacon! That's right, people. As of yesterday's frantic filling out of W-4s and Direct Deposit slips, Lucky walks amongst the employed. Even better: it's a totally cool job--I work for a major sports league website. When you go to a team's website and see the little game blurb, there's a good chance that me or someone I work with wrote it! Which also means I have the horrid task of having League Pass at my disposal, and having to/getting to watch any game that's on.

Le sigh. Life is not easy.

Tonight, I promise I will write a proper post about What This Blog Means To Me etc etc and in order to do it justice it need not be written on a public computer in the middle of a school day when my cover can be blown.

Until tonight, mon amies!

Friday, January 9, 2009

Recapping "The Game"

I've become an addict to recapping--this time I did CW's The Game. This one was a little more difficult as, well, technically speaking, the show's not that good: not incredibly plot-rich or, let's be honest, well-acted. A solid following coupled with seeing some brown faces in a semi-decent, non-token way probably contributes to the show's getting a third season more than its oft-employed Shirtless Method of Acting does. But still, it's entertaining (well, if the Melanie-Derwin plotline picks back up it will be) so, here we go!

Realer than Melanie Still Thinking Wide Scarves are Majorly Trendy
-Plus 2 for Derwin's Pilates band. Athletes are secretly into girly exercises like water aerobics and yoga and stuff. Would have scored higher had Derwin been in the middle of Total Body Sculpt with Gilad on Fit TV.
-Plus 3 for Derwin inadvertently not taking back the money Jason stole...everybody is turning into a foil for Jason--he looks bad in comparison to just about every character.
-Plus 4 for Mel having "struggling student" downpat: self-parking, big "trendy" scarf at popular spot, woefully knockoff bag. Some of us are still in that phase...
-The whole exchange is kind of awkward--Kelly and Tasha are better at banter that Mel and Tasha are. But Plus 1 because in this case poor acting is kind of disguised: maybe Tasha, Mel, and Kelly haven't hung out since the hiatus.
-The 3 Ferarris(?) in a row/Jason's deal: Plus 3 because DAYUM, but also because of course Jason just does not get that it's not about the money. Writers, why does he not get it? Either we need more backstory or we must contend that he really is a jerk.
-"Not outlet mall Gucci, but mall-mall Gucci." Plus 1
-Plus 2 for Robin's performance: the pyschobabble and TV appearances that only not-so famous do? Her marriage is circling the drain and she knows it.
-Additional Plus 1 for "Read a...listen to an audiobook."
-Tasha, on Kelly's newly acquired millions: "I got some old friends that could flip it!" Plus 3 because ain't that the truth: turning money into more money is how the newly rich stay rich/get richer, and Tasha knows it. Also as an agent she's probably seen many an player wife squander her ex-husband's cash and knows better...
-Plus 3 for Jason's childish--and so accurate--behavior at the divorce hearing: whispering, silent gestures...nothing says "I'm ignoring you" more than texting someone who's at the same table.
-If we had no other proof Jason is an asshole, he had to try and get full custody of Brittany. Plus only 1 because it's so cliche, though. Jase, you had the girl sleeping on a pallet. On the floor. In the presence of a jump-off. Get real.
-Malik's admittance that he and Robin Givens "pulled a Nick and Mariah." Plus 1 for Hollywood backstabbing!
-Plus 4 for Kelly's request for $30 million. Hit him where it hurts, sister. Psychologically speaking, though. She is entitled to half of his $50 mil.
-Plus another 4 for "steroids": game, set, match. Only, Kelly is too good of a person to actually go through with it; Jason's the scumbbag. He would use her past against her if he could, not the other way around.

Faker than Kelly's Divorced Brunette Hair
-Jason just STOLE from Derwin?! That's not remotely funny--especially since we don't get a good reason for it other than he's such. an. asshole. Minus 3
-Minus 2 for Malik being mad that his groupie posted pictures of him. Um, hello? You have a live-feed of are not modest.
-Actually, Minus 3 for this whole fake marriage...Malik is getting a raw deal.
-The digital cable commercial breaks even: Minus 1 for Tia Mowry's Carol Brady haircut but Plus 1 for Wendy Raquel Robinson's cute bob.
-WTF? MORE stealing? Where have these people learned right and wrong? But Minus only 1 because she gave it back and explained herself.
-Minus 2 for Tasha's "I'm from the hood" shpiel--it's getting a leeetle annoying.
-Minus 2 for Mel's summarization-slash-justification of her maybe relationship with Derwin/Mehcati. Bitch, what are you talking about? She made no sense.
-Minus 3 for Malik's interview...if the Sabres are so good, shouldn't they be talking about the upcoming Super Bowl? His publicist wouldn't have allowed anything else--it's distracting.

So there you have it, like I said, doing a 30 minute show is nowhere as complex as an hour one, but it was fun...

PS--I'm still sickly. And frankly, kind of annoyed about it.

This Week Has Been One Big Hot Flash

So. I'm annoyed.

I haven't properly talked to BFF in...awhile. I would text her and get nothing in response. Since, like, before Christmas. I'd start to get worried that I wasn't keeping in touch, send another text, get nothing, get more worried. Eventually, worried turned into "annoyed." I didn't want to jump to conclusions, so I tried to reserve too much annoyance. "Maybe she didn't have her phone," I'd think. But on yet another attempt, I wrote, "where have you been? Is everything ok?" and got back "I'm ok, in [city]." Relieved that she wasn't laying in a street somewhere dead, I responded with a "did you get any of my texts?" You guessed it, no answer. Cue actual annoyance. This hasn't' been the first time she's blown me off, by the way. Finally, she texted me a "Merry Christmas," but by that time I was annoyed--I think I responded, though.

Didn't hear from her until she called while I was at a friend's house on New Year's Eve. Still annoyed, and not wanting to be rude to my host, I texted her saying I was at a friend's house and would try to "ttyl." But a part of me didn't want to talk to her just yet. Why return her calls when the same courtesy hadn't been extended to me?

Earlier this evening, she sent me a "we need to talk." Well, text: I have a hanus cold/massive throatache. She said she didn't have her phone for 10 days, but she had called me twice in December. Both calls, which, I said, were probably made after I had been texting her to no avail. And anyway, like I said, why would I rush to return your calls when you don't return mine? And, ok, 2 calls versus a zillion texts and writing on her facebook wall just in case she didn't have her phone: all of which virtually went unanswered.

She wrote that I was "making a big deal out of something [she] had no control over. Get over it" etc etc. What fresh HELL? I said something to the effect of asking I get that you didn't have your phone but wouldn't you see that there were numerous texts from me and, I don't know, let me know what's up? I even wrote on your wall in case you didn't have a phone, pardon me for being worried about you.

No response.

Or am I totally tripping? I texted again. Do you see where I'm coming from?

No response.

Hello? One last try. Are we still having a conversation, are we talking when I can use the phone again, or...?

No response, and a blank stare to boot (from me, not her).

So, pretend to be objective, readers: am I, to coin a phrase, tripping? Why no "hey, I'm ok, I'm not ignoring you I just lost my phone" text? Why are you just now telling me this, as if a person wouldn't be annoyed a) at the pretense of being ignored 2) that her best friend is making her feel stupid for worrying about her? I mean, sheesh, at the very least, is an apology out of the damn question? Behavior like this makes me think she doesn't value our friendship. Which, I mean, I know she does, but...fuck...I'm pissed, and I think I have the right to be.

Plus, I have a lot on my plate at the moment. A dear friend is having school troubles at the moment, I haven't registered for classes yet, and to top it okk, I'm sick, I was actually at the doctor the day before it really kicked in. But when he examined my throat he found nothing. I wanted desperately be all Grey's Anatomy like, "You know, Doc, it might be my trachea..." but I didn't. I wish he would have found something because I literally cannot speak. Way to spend my last week at home. I've been living on Ramen noodles (actually I owe my life to those packets of noodley goodness) and knocking back shot glass-dosages of Tylenol--just 'cause I'm sick doesn't mean I can't take it like a champ.

Since I've been sick I've been watching a lot (a LOT) of TV, too--my aching throat distracts me from sleeping so I crawl in my parents' bed and watch Sportscenter and the History Channel...lulls me to sleep, incidentally. A new discovery: I have a thing for, it seems, crimes. But real stuff: Snapped, True Life: I'm in Prison, and recently Dog the Bounty Hunter. Watch it for the actual catches and for, Lord have mercy, the clothes. The whole family has mullets and every female fugitive they catch has horrid eyebrows. But the bounty hunters are actually quite nice to the fugitives once they're caught. And the son, Leland, is gorgeous--even with his grody ponytail. Two enthusiastic thumbs up.** Also, I think I'm gonna recap/reality index Daddy's Girls--that show about Angela and Vanessa Simmons. I couldn't figure out whether or not I liked it.

**Whoa. I just heard the racist remarks he made about, yep, us black folks. He wants his son to break up with his black girlfriend because the family uses the N-word and he doesn't want to be caught on camera using a racial slur. *Crickets* *reserving judgment on whether I watch the show again...*

I know I'm rambling but it's the cold medicine, tiredness, and Taco Bell, talking. Please excuse. Maybe I'll shop to lessen the pain. Yes, my suitcase was full when I arrived in Home State but I will crawl through the mall with a Tylenol IV if I have to.

Update: We are weird. Me and her will "fight" then two days later someone will call/text and be like "what classes are you taking this semester?" We managed to patch things up this morning at like 7am. She was like "why are you still awake?" and I was like "I'm sick" and she was like "Ew" and stuff. The mark of friendship, I guess, when even the wickedest of fights blow over in a few days' time...

Monday, January 5, 2009

One Tree Hill Reality Index

The mighty New York Magazine, of Go Fug Yourself fame, recaps Gossip Girl and sometimes, the Hills, every week, and it is nothing short of stupendous each time. I want to meet Chris and Jessica so bad! But until that happens, I decided to give recapping a show a shot. Except, knowing I couldn't do their GG posts justice, I did One Tree Hill instead. So, here's a very unscientific tally of what was real and what wasn't in this week's episode. Onward, bound!

Realer than Nathan Feeling Entitled to Wear #23 For the Rest of His Career
-True to Leyton form, the news of Peyton's pregnancy is only met with "I love yous," squinting, and happy tears. Remember when Haley was pregnant? She freaked out--and rightfully so! Peyton and Lucas are so blissfully unaware of how the world works. Plus 3, though, because they are older and they are, you know, Meant For Each Other. We deserve the right to renege if there isn't any "gonna be a parent" freakout in a future episode.
-Mouth's secret feelings of inadequacy fuel both of his arguments: first, he thinks Millie has no reason to come crawling back to him, then he has no choice to get mad because those feelings are totally validated when she manages to sleep with Owen the hot bartender. Plus 3 for Millie letting Mouth know that she does, indeed, got it like that.
-Brooke totally has on a "quest to find my missing daughter" jacket. With what looks like Chuck Taylors. We have never seen this before; she must be seriously distressed. Plus 3
-Plus 4 for "Protect and serve, my ass!" Cliche, but who hasn't wanted to say that to a non-helpful officer of the law?
-Plus 4 for Haley being so happy when Nate got the call. Finally! she thinks. Two paychecks!
-Plus 5 for those shots of Nathan's bulging biceps. Ooo-er.
-Even though it's been a while since elementary school, it's nice to know that "Pizza Fridays" are still something to look forward to. Plus 2 because I still usually only eat pizza on Fridays.
-Speaking of which, the B-League doesn't actually exist. Plus 2 if they actually meant the D-League, which really is like minor-league basketball, because then it's realistic that only 1 or 2 players has a shot to go pro.
-North Carolina really did used to have a D-League team. Plus 3 for recognizing the market.
-Plus 2 for that hideous Charleston Chiefs jersey. It's so fitting to let players know that they are not actually in the NBA by giving them ugly jerseys.
-Plus 3 for Mia's "Whoa, blast from the past!" about the hoodie, because everyone says that when presented with their old clothes.
-Jamie is kind of gullible for believing when Andre says that his mother gave him permission, but Plus 2, because when you're a kid, thinking you have permission to do something is almost the same as actuaBoldlly having it.
-Also, Plus 2 for Jamie leaving a note. He's been kidnapped before, he knows what's up.
-That Jack Daniels (if that's his real name) is bad news: he should've helped Sam out the window first, but Plus 2 because it's so in character that he'd jump out first--kid is kind of dumb.
-Plus 3 for Jamie saying, "We should Google that." All of the adults in his life are like 22. All we do is Google stuff.
-Plus 1 for Andre and Jamie. They're so cute together, and a virtual high-five for not making Andre the comedic sidekick (ahem, Skills).
-Plus 1 for Brooke still trying to be a cool mom, in spite of being in way over her head, by not taking Peyton along to rescue Sam.
-Luke just could not wait to say, "I just found out I'm going to be a father." He's kind of douchey, and that statement will give him a pass to justify just about anything. Plus 2
-Haley figures out that Peyton's preggers in like, a second. Plus 2 because she's so much smarter than everyone else. She even knows not to rain on Peyton's parade because everyone kind of rained on hers when she got knocked up.
-They killed Uncle Keith, Jimmy Edwards, and Nanny Carrie, but Brooke takes the High Road and doesn't kill her assailant. Plus 1 because she's a) a Changed Woman, 2) not Dan Scott.

Faker than Nathan Going to Practice in Skinny Jeans
-Minus 2 for Peyton's absurdly long fingernails. She strikes me as a nail biter.
-This has been bothering me for awhile: why is Naley in the black, pushing Range Rovers? His shoe deal that wasn't? Please. If Nate's downfall was drastic enough to hurt his rep, wouldn't we see finance ramifications, too? Minus 4
-If Sam doesn't get better backstory, like why she's soo important the whole town's looking for her, she's gotta go. Minus 4 because her presence annoys me.
-This episode reeked of The Devil Wears Prada. Devon calling Nate "15" is the new, "Wake up, six." And Paul wanting to fire Julian was very Bart Bass meets Miranda Priestly. Minus only 2, because at least Paul didn't demand that Lucas fire Julian.
-This deserves a separate point: why are all of Nathan's black teammates so mean to him? Quentin, those guys at the combine, this Devon character? WTF? It's like Mark Schwann still thinks he's making Coach Carter. Minus 4
-When Nate's playing ball he gets his shot blocked. Minus 2 because didn't Quentin teach him anything?
-How, exactly, is the Murdering Older Brother trying to play his interaction with Brooke? Is he trying to be mysterious, because he's actually acting kind of gay. Minus 3
-Ok. This must be Sophia Bush's horror movie career side coming out...this guy beat
your ass, what would posess you to go back inside? Minus only 1, because we later see that she's armed. She clearly is not thinking straight, what with all that latent leftover anger.
-Finally, Minus 2 for Lucas bringing Peyton a rose. She is so not a roses girl.

So there you have it, folks! If you don't watch One Tree Hill then this was probably boring for you, but I just wanted to take a stab at filling Daily Intel's shoes (learned: it's hard to be clever and snarky!). Maybe I'll do another show soon. Hope you enjoyed it! PS, I would actually add them up, but I'm too lazy...

Sunday, January 4, 2009

A Fly in the Buttermilk...a Flyy One, Though...

A few friends from high school went 'round the border to Windsor, [Ontario] Canada for the night and oh, what a night 'twas. It was pretty fun--some of the music wasn't my style (I cannot dance--in the way which I am accustomed, that is--to Fat Bottomed Girls, classic thought it may be. I simply cannot.) but other than that, it was a learning experience.

I drove with Fashion Student and another girl, and in the car it was fine, but when we all got to the hotel I felt...out of place. A whole bunch of button-cute, tiny white girls and me. Zora Neale Hurston once wrote that she never felt more black than when surrounded by white people and, well, I now know what she means. 2 and a half years at an HBCU has certainly changed, and in some ways, validated my perspective on things.

Not that a club is the prime spot to meet dateable men, but I got no "good" attention. I say "good" because guys would come up to me and the two girls I was with, and virtually ignore me. As in, guys would ask both girls, who would be standing stock-still, to dance, and get declined. Meanwhile, I'm next to them, shaking my booty to "Love Lockdown", and they'd keep on walking. I'm talking, literally, a guy would come up and speak to everyone in the group but me. And clearly it's not like I'm ugly or anything, but those guys weren't checkin' for "sistahs" at all. I felt like the "ugly friend" almost all night.

Not only the "ugly friend," but the Black Girl Who Knows Everything About Hip-Hop/Can Dance To Every Song. When played-out songs from high school came on, everyone expected me to just go crazy, while I'm like, "um, actually, I haven't 'leaned wit it, rocked wit it' since prom..." I fielded comments like "Come on, you're SUPPOSED to have soul!" and "Can you teach me that dance?" I even got a "Heyy, chocolate, how you doin'?" I wasn't trying to be the black chick who can dance really well; I'm have average dancing skills, but I just looked better by default! Seriously, some of those people had no rhythm to speak of...HIL-arious, actually.

I guess it's a double-edged sword because when one guy actually danced with me he got waayy touchy-feely. Which I'm used to at the club, but I couldn't help wondering if he was doing it because supposedly black girls are easy/all video girls at heart. Even dancing by myself I felt like a "hypersexual black female" because there would be a ton of white guys watching. For example, when Sean Paul's "Get Busy" came on, I started to do the obligatory reggae-style dancing, but I really felt weird because no one else knew the song/danced to it properly. There were girls dancing way trashier than me but I still felt like the paid entertainment sometimes. It went one of two ways either I was totally ignored or feeling like an exotic dancer at some frat house.

It's hard to put into words. I mean, the club atmosphere is mostly girls being watched, and I was able to observe just how guys watched certain girls. All of the girls I was with were standard pretty white girls, and many guys positively fawned over them. Hell, this one guy stared at my friend Blondie so intently I swear him and his probably raging boner popped up at every club we went to. But there was a distinct difference in how my friends were viewed and how I was viewed--if I was viewed at all, that is. It was only, "oh, look at that tough black girl." I didn't feel like just another pretty girl at the club. I felt like an outsider.

I guess I was just observing the dynamic; this was the first time partying somewhere other than Southern State. Oddly, I felt extremely safe--from what I've seen stuff usually goes wrong when a guy tries to talk to a girl and she doesn't accept, is rude to him, or he does something to make her feel threatened. People/guys barely spoke to me so it was cool--I mean, you can't hurt an invisible person, right? And that's how I felt to the other clubgoers besides my friends: invisible when I wasn't being gawked at. Which is no way to feel during a girly night out on the town. Especially not in a town where the (legal) drinking age is 19.

All that said, though, I was with friends, and like I said, there are advantages to rolling with hot white girls: free shots, no cover charges, VIP access, no long entrance lines, and I guess there is a certain attention by association when you're with a group of loud, pretty, party girls. And if I'm invited again, I might just go back to Windsor and club-hop, an art that is too complicated to do back at school. I just have to adjust my mindset, I guess.

Plus, out of the three clubs we hit, not one played T-Pain, which kind of totally bothered me. Just unheard of.

Friday, January 2, 2009

Liveblogging The Pistons Game

Since I've been [obsessing] talking about it for so long, I thought it would be fun to liveblog the day of the basketball game (tonight at 8pm). Warning: it's long. Who knew this was so much fun?

-Crikey, I woke up late. I need to wash clothes to have something to wear for the men of my dreams.
-My mom and sister were supposed to leave like a half hour ago. Why are they still here? WHY am I still in bed?
-Urgh. A lotta laundry to carry downstairs.
-General Hospital's on. Damn, it must be past three o'clock. Oops.
-Colors safely in the wash. Hungry. A Pop-Tart seems good.
-Oh, never mind. Here's the last one. Scrumptious.
-Still hungry. Contemplate eating donut as well.
-Compromise by eating half a donut and some orange juice instead. Why am I not 300 lbs? Have no idea.
-Oh, dear. My hair needs...doing. Plug in flat-iron.
-Check e-mail while waiting. Nothing good.
-What am I going to wear tonight? Make sister Google pictures of Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens at Lakers games for ideas.
-All pictures are of couples. Will not feel bad today--have FIVE men waiting for me.
-Perform ablutions. I feel nauseous. WTF? Maybe Pop-Tart/donut/toothpaste idea was not a winning one.
-Ever notice that when you feel the least bit queasy, your imagination immediately brings up things that really do disgust you?
-Am making self sick. Must stop.
-Saw an episode of CSI that said smiling suppresses the gag reflex. Am grinning like an idiot to beat churning stomach.

-Find pictures of Sophia Bush online. She is a cute, compact little person even leaving a nail salon. Why can't I be a cute, compact little person??
-Am too tall, curvy, and hate ironing, is why.

-Tried to flat-iron hair. Lose interest after first two strokes. Persevere. Satisfied with half/various sections tended to.
-Put second load of laundry in. Might just be on schedule after all.
-Ever since I pulled my computer back from the brink of death I have no full CDs on my ITunes. I thought I wouldn't mind at first but I do. Must begin tedious task of loading them onto my Ipod.
-CD case is downstairs and I am not. Perhaps another day, then.
-This is the first Pistons game I've gone to not wearing ceremonial attire. -Am SO unprepared. All the celebs are [with their boyfriends] wearing high heels. Lent my Manolo's to Beyonce so am out of luck on that front. Plus it snowed last night--it's cold, dammit.
-Except try as I might to think otherwise, wearing a dress and heels to a sporting event reeks of Trying Too Hard and brands you as one of THOSE girls who have no idea what's going on in the game.
-Surely there must be a happy medium.
-I'm going to wear my new purple boots. Festive, not fussy.
-Nothing in my wardrobe matches purple boots. What was I THINKING?
-Gray t-shirt, skinny jeans, purple boots. Option #1.
-John Travolta's 16-year-old son sad...
-Skinny jeans are in the dryer still. I never put them in the dryer, but I needed them to wear tonight. What if they're not dry in time? What if they SHRINK?
-Run downstairs.
-30 minutes left on dryer. Sigh. Plus, all my good bras are still wet. Why can't I wake up early like a responsible adult? Why?
On second thought, where did that gray t-shirt come from? Look closer.
-Oh, damn, forgot. That's not a regular t-shirt, that's a XXL "Property of Clemson Athletics" shirt I bought last week! Damn!
-Maybe I'll just go naked. Anyone? Anyone?
-Purple stripey sweater, skinny jeans, purple boots. Option #2.
-Garage door opens. Who's that? Mom. Might not be too happy with my lack of progress.
-Quickly run downstairs to get makeup.
-Not Mom, it's Dad. Says we must leave by 6:45. It is 5:20 and I'm in pajamas, Middle Sister's not home, Little Sister is still in a towel. This might not end well.
-I WILL us to make it on time.
-Where is my phone??
-Oh, here on the kitchen table. Typical.
-Grab dry pants, leave everything else in laundry room.
-Yum, jeans straight out of the dryer are nice and toasty.
-Oof, but tight.
-Ok, skinny jeans with sweater and knee high boots...looks kind of...tawdry...
-Am convinced I look ok. Harass sisters for 2nd and 3rd opinions. They cosign.
-All leave house, pile into car ahead enough of schedule to swing by McDonald's.
-Mmmm chicken nuggets.
-Damn, that's a lot of traffic. For a good cause, though. Go 'Stones!
-$10 for parking is highway robbery.
-We're heeeeeeeere!
-This parking lot is huge...Gawd, it's cold.
-My sisters don't like my boots. Say they would have told me but I was too busy running around saying things like "People, people, why are we not dressed?" and "Come on, now, time is money!"
-Am now self-conscious.
-And in slightly bad mood.
-No line at Will Call. Sweet.
-Will Call Lady taking absurdly long time finding our tickets. I ordered them, I swear I did! Ohmygod if this goes wrong I will be soo embarrassed not to mention pissed off--$10 parking!--where are those tickets?!
-Whew. She found them.
-My extraordinary planning skills have gotten us ticket package with gift cards to concession stands.

-Still annoyed about poor outfit choice.
-Hmm, seats aren't bad. High, but good view.
-Game starts...YAY fireworks and "The Final Countdown!"
-Am slightly misty-eyed.
-Wipe eyes under pretense of scratching nose.
-Go to bathroom at halftime, scrutinize outfit, leave confused. Do I look ok or not?
-Want to ask stranger. Refrain and slink to concessions.
-Yick. Soft pretzel tastes disappointingly like plain old bread.
-Little Sister gives me her ice cream. All is forgiven.
-Drunken people in the row below are looking to "get the party started." Amusing.
-Great second half, scream loudly. Sing along to "Shout" and participate in The Wave.
-Middle Sister even gets into game.
By Jove, I think we've got it!
-Game's getting close. "The Final Countdown" plays again! Rodney Stuckey has 38 points!
-We win, exit happily.
-Unceremonious drive home, thinking next time will just say "sod it" and wear t-shirt and jeans after all.
-Rifle through drawers at home, find Pistons nightshirt. Shirt big enough to be pretend boyfriend's instead of last year's Christmas present from auntie.
-Little Sister begs to watch a movie. Wrestling is involved as method of persuasion.
-Fashion Student calls. The girls are going to Canada tomorrow evening. Am going along. Will not get drunk--have no money for hotel and must come home same night.
-Soak cartilage piercing in salt water. Have been bad, have not done so in days.
-It stings a little. Am worried.
-Lean over sink studying ear in mirror. Gasp dramatically. Piercing looks gross! Am worried even more.
-Google "infected cartilage piercing."
-Yahoo Answers extremely reassuring.
-Sigh with relief: must not take earring out under any circumstance (prospect of wasting $55 scarier than prospect of ear falling off).
-Resolve to see doctor upon returning to school: want to avoid "should not have done it in the first place" lecture from mother. Surely stern "tut, tut" sounds will be made.
-Am watching "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days." Kate Hudson another cute, compact person. With annoyingly cute little Knicks jersey.
-More feelings of inferiority.
-In movie, fictional Knicks are playing fictional Sacramento Kings--I totes just saw them a few hours ago! Fictional because a) the actors are so clearly not the actual players and 2) the Knicks and Kings would never play in the Finals.
-Wish for future job to include rooftop martinis during workday.
-Remember do not like vodka. But perhaps afternoon tequila is too much to ask for.
-"Put a muzzle on your old lady the next time you bring her in public!"
-Wonder why Matthew McConaghey attempts to nuzzle in Kate's breasts when she OBVIOUSLY has none. But I sympathize.
-MM is still sexy.
-"A woman loves a man who can cook." I guess.
-Fictional Sportscenter referred to Earl Monroe. I met him last year! Earl the Pearl!

I would continue but I feel like liveblogging a movie is worthy of a whole separate post. Plus Little Sister keeps giving me the side-eye for typing during "our time," so I must bid y'all adieu. She has a hefty kick for someone of her size.

Totals: 2 loads of laundry complete, 1 amazing basketball game, 2 dejected purple boots, 1 possibly infected ear.

Thursday, January 1, 2009

Something About el Ano Nuevo

Happy 2009, people!

This year I am going to get in shape, stop procrastinating, wake up early, build more professional contacts, dress better, cook, and find a sensible boyfriend without running him off. And possibly get out more.

2008 was great, but it's time for greener pastures, a new frontier, all that good stuff. Cheers to the next 365 days of great, confusing, exhilarating, long, satisfying, amazing and exciting.

Love, Lucky