Long-Awaited

This one's dedicated to my darling Amy, (whose HNT is SOO much better than mine but it's ok)



"Her sister's dark/but she is/sho'nuff pretty/Her skirt is short/but Lord/Her legs are sturdy" ("Living for the City," Stevie Wonder)
Can y'all guess which one's me? Haha, a happy HNT. In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for my legs ;-)

Wet Wednesday/Half-Naked Thursday

Typical. I come back after being away just to fill your minds with smut. Well, let's get on with it then.

I had recommended Usher's "Trading Places" video for the hotness factor, and two years later, I have a replacement. Or at least, an addition to the queue.

Trey Songz's video for "I Invented Sex" is, simply put, a whole lotta WIN. It makes me want to do bad, bad things. That's why I like it. Enjoy.



FYI: My 21st birthday is finally around the corner! On which I will be doing...nothing. I have to work. So at least I'll be at a basketball game, which, truth be told, is what I'd have wanted to do anyway. The chances of that happening, since none of my friends like basketball, would have been slim to none, but alas, dreams do come true.

Songs By Which to Live and Love

Let the listing continue. I took a loooooonnnggg nap today, which I haven't done in forever, and it did me a world of good. Except now I'm awake.

Top Love Songs

1. So Amazing--Luther Vandross
2. (There Is) No Greater Love--Amy Winehouse
3. I'll Be There--the Jackson 5
4. Lady in My Life--Michael Jackson
5. Just My Imagination--the Temptations



Top Love Lost Songs

1. Love Don't Love Nobody--the Spinners
2. Silly--Denise Williams
3. She's Out of My Life--Michael Jackson
4. Hello, I Need You--Michelle Featherstone
5. Light Years Away--MoZella
6. I'm Gonna Find Another You--John Mayer
7. A House is Not a Home--Luther Vandross



Top "F*ck That A**hole" Songs

1. Before He Cheats--Carrie Underwood
2. Irreplaceable--Beyonce
3. Hate (I Really Don't Like You)
4. U Don't Have To Call--Usher
5. Womanizer--Britney Spears

Five Random Thoughts About Me

Because I'm feeling self-aware:

1. I hate losing things. It grates on my nerves and keeps me up at night when I've misplaced something. I will tear my house/car/dorm upside down, and if I still can't find whatever it is, I will seriously question everybody nonstop until it turns up. Sometimes it works, sometimes I have to suck it up and just buy a new Fall Out Boy CD. Even years later, I'm like, but seriously, I wonder what happened to that sweatshirt/necklace/picture?

2. Despite lots of evidence to the contrary (ha), I really think I'd make a good girlfriend, or dare I say, wife? Not for awhile on that second one, but people always say to me, "I honestly don't know why you're single!" Yuk yuk yuk. Irony aside, I like to imagine that I'm the sort of girl you'd want your brother to date. Anyone got a brother???

3. My favorite music video is "Bad" by (surprise, surprise), Michael Jackson. The dancing is intensely impeccable, it's a fun video, and I always thought MJ looked sooo sexy in it, with his all-black, chained-up outfit, and Jheri curl! Second place? Smooth Criminal--the ensemble dance after the chorus is my favorite part. Oh, I could go on and on...



4. I'm terrified of sinkholes. Utterly and completely terrified of them.

5. Most people find tardiness tantamount to the highest level of uncouth behavior, but I don't mind it because I'm always five minutes late myself. Well, I don't mind up til ten minutes. Anything after that without a phone call is, indeed, rude.

Anyone else have random minutia about themselves?

Matrimony Music

Five songs that must be played at some point at your wedding. Go!

1. "So Amazing" by Luther Vandross--my parents played this at their wedding

2. "Sweetest Love" by Robin Thicke--he says it himself

3. "Crazy in Love" by Beyonce--duh because it's fun to dance to

4. "(There is) No Greater Love by Amy Winehouse--it's so sweet, especially acoustic. I'd get someone to sing it as we stood in front of everybody (people do that, right?)

5. "Just My Imagination" by The Temptations--one of my top Temps songs (watching the biopic as we speak)

6. "Like a Star" by Corrine Bailey Rae--is that a wedding song? Well, it'll be at mine.

Now that I think about it, it's been awhile since I've been to a wedding. My cousin is marrying this chick in October (psst! Her ring is HUGE) and he's not that much older than I am. Read: hot friends!

Let me know, folks!

The Way He Made Me Feel

I can't.

You're telling me that the King of Pop, is gone?

That my favorite artist in the entire world, is no longer with us?

I don't believe you.

My parents' generation has John Lennon. They heard it on the radio. I saw it on CNN. Fucking TMZ.

I was glued to the TV, until it flashed across the screen. Had to close my eyes. Broke down in tears. Never met the man, physically, duh. Don't give a fuck. Still numb. Cried already. Will probably cry again.

The vultures are gonna come. As if they hadn't already. Oh, are you reporting that the stress of media hounding took its toll? No shit.

Listening to Smooth Criminal as we speak. Talking heads on the news getting on my nerves.

When I'm nervous I ask myself, what would Dirty Diana do? I belted "Rock With You" just yesterday. Oh, God, "Rock With You." Cue the tears. "The Way You..." I can't even type it.

I always imagined that was the song I would fall in love to. Never told anyone that before. But I always thought that if I ever needed to know if I was in love, the song "Rock With You" would come on, and he would look into my eyes, smile, and sing along, and I'd know he was The One, because he got it.

Did you know that, Michael? You were supposed to be there when I fell in love. You will be. You said you wanted your music to make you immortal. It will. It has.

Keep looking at the screen, not really watching, still can't believe it. Next time I blast "Streetwalker" in my car, will I cry?

What the hell, Michael? Why, Michael? At the very least, you weren't supposed to die before I saw you in concert! I thought I'd be older when you went. I knew I'd cry though.

This isn't real. Two seconds of "Don't Stop til You Get Enough."

Just cried again.

Update: I saw both my mom and dad shed a tear when they thought I wasn't looking. It's real.

Obligatory Women's Lib Rant

It's no secret that everybody is all over Drake aka Wheelchair Jimmy (not that I ever watched Degrassi. I SWEAR. I would tell you if I did, honest) as a rapper, and some of his music is cool.** It took a minute to separate this version of him with what was portrayed on The N, but his songs are quite catchy and he's an admirable rapper.

**Ok it is really good, if you can look past the budding misogyny. "A Night Off" and "Man of the Year" are my favorites so far.

However.

It seems that we have already started with the "bitches and hoes" mentality. He's throwing those adjectives around a little too freely for my liking. Even stuff like "Baby you my everything/other hoes ain't never on it" which, ok, you called me "baby" but why does my homegirl gotta be a hoe? It just leaves a sour taste in my mouth (ear?) after hearing those words used as legitimate words to describe a female. Because there are bitches out there, don't get me wrong. I interact with many on a daily basis.

I guess we didn't expect Drake to come out raunchy and/or profane which makes it sting a little more, but I mean, if he really wanted to be "revolutionary" he could have started by coming up with a better way to describe women.

There's a bigger picture here. Not only do men need to better, but women need to demand better. Take this Film Screening Guy situation. Men only do what they can get away with as many times as they can get away with it. Obviously, his less-than-chivalrous method of courting has gotten him sex before, to the point where he doesn't know how to act when a standards-having female like myself rebuts with, "I need you to come better than that if you want me to entertain you, let alone consider sleeping with you." But it could be argued that those other women were desperate because there aren't that many dateable men around. Which I secretly kind of understand but that doesn't make it ok for anyone involved. Because those desperate women are making it hard for ME.

I mean, other hardworking, slightly more modest women. Like myself.

Fifth Row, Center

Could you imagine a one night only concert, nay, stadium show, featuring

Duffy,



Adele,



and the one and ONLY Amy Jade Winehouse?



In my head, I've already bought tickets.

Grammys and the Pistons

Will be checking into the Grammys periodically, but the Pistons are also on TV, and well, you know my heart. A few observations thus far:

-Get the FUCK into Whitney Houston! Pre-Grammy botox did her face RIGHT.
-J-Hud looks so pretty...OMG is that Punk???
-Since when does The Rock fancy himself a comedian?
-"Thank you, Dwyane," says Justin Timberlake, dripping with good-natured sarcasm.
-"Let's Stay Together"? "Love and Happiness"? Oh, JT and your "blue-eyed soul." He knows those songs are the ways to black folks' hearts. Is that texturizer in his hair?
-JT is singing with Al Green. I don't know how to feel. You'd think Justin's falsetto would pull this off better, but, not quite. A for effort 'cause he's nervous.
-Damn! Al outsang Justin with that one high note. That note said "You may have felt up Janet Jackson, kid, but I am a LEGEND. Know this."
-WTF is this Chris Brown and Rihanna drama? If it comes out that he went Ike Turner on her we are officially not friends.
-Kanye and Estelle are a) performing last summer's anthem 2) looking like aluminum foil. I quit.
-YAY Adele won for Best New Artist! Thank you for making all of those hours hiding behind over-priced lingerie and sampling perfumes at VS bearable with "Melt My Heart to Stone"!
-MIA is hilarious to me right now. Everybody in the audience is kinda laughing, watching her waddle around throwing up the Roc. But around those guys I hope she pulled rank during rehearsals: "I am SO serious. NO weed around me." I'd think that they wouldn't let her perform for liability reasons, but hey, she G'd it out. I fucks with MIA for that one.
*I'm having this fantasy of TI, Jay-Z, Kanye, and Lil' Wayne backstage, gathering around MIA, watching out for her and rubbing her belly. It is quite precious.*
-Kate Beckinsale looks pretty. But bitch, CLEARLY MIA is due soon. Homegirl looks like she was due like two months ago.

-I'm on a diet now but I want some more ice cream.

-Two things garnered from this old white man who is speaking before us: a) I would very much like to visit the Grammy Museum 2) Secretary of the Arts is a good idea. Also, I REALLY hope BHO copyrighted "Yes We Can."
-The Four Tops look very snazzy. Along with Smokey Robinson and Ne-Yo. I'm digging this black tuxedo business. Jamie Foxx is channeling Jimmy Early right now. Why? I don't know. Regardless, I'm loving this performance.
-Squeeeeeee John Mayer! I know he loves all those bluesy guys so I know how much he must be digging this right now. At first I wasn't sure if it was him, but I'd recognize those silly faces he makes when he sings from anywhere. I have, after all, seen him twice in concert :]
-LIEUTENANT DAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-Lol @ "not so little." Lil' Wayne is literally five feet tall.
-Wayne looks...dare I say...clean? Cute? I'm digging his shoes. Now that I've gotten my check I'm on the hunt for some Jordans and therefore have been keeping tabs on people's shoe game.
-I want to order "When the Levees Broke" on Amazon.com
-For one shining moment I thought he was going to introduce Terrance Howard.
-Take away T-Pain's hat and he looks like any other tacky Southern mofo on the street. This, my friends, is progress.
-Look at Solange! Next to Jay-Z! And TI and Piglet! Solange looked pretty decent but you know she's appearing as Bey's stand-in. And probably wearing wicker shoes and rainbow tights.
-Debra Lee's whack ass.
-YES Tha Carter III!
-Wayne, you were onstage for two seconds. Why all those people? But I see Reginae in her dress that you KNOW came from FKO. Bless her.
-Homegirl in the back in the white suit's bra is showing.
-Album of the Year: Raising Sand?? Who are these people?? Chile my melanin is showing...
-I never get tired of Stevie Wonder's head shake. But those braids that start halfway down his head have got to go.

Wellp, that's all the time I have for you folks. The Grammys left me slightly underwhelmed, but hey. It's the recession. Now I must go stalk the internets for pictures of dresses and, for real, for real, where the heck was Sasha Fierce?

A Little Objectification Never Hurt Anyone

*Peeks in, ready to duck should projectiles be projected*

I have been bad. I have been neglecting you all. Take me back, baby, I'm sorry. I love you, I really do.

STELLLAAAAA!!!!!!!

Anyway.

I wish I could return with a happy post but today is just not the day. Eating feelings may have been involved. Here is what I am dealing with: my roommate has guests over: a gal-pal and, guess who else, her doting boyfriend. Said gal-pal, funnily enough, thinks it's precious to not call this young man by his government name, but instead refer to him simply as "Boyfriend." As in, "Boyfriend? Boyfriend, are you downstairs?" If that wasn't enough (and it never is), in one day I had to sit near Science Guy and his girlfriend and hear about the Smoker and his girlfriend.

Am I never to be free?

Not to mention attend a school pageant-like function which brings out the Who's Who of campus--legions of pretty, well-adjusted, coupled up people prancing around and blocking walkways with their fabulosity. Said people are extremely annoying and not easy to navigate around, especially when one has a painfully full bladder.

All three of us were in a bit of a funk today. We even had a "Daria" moment:
Ms. Politics: Look at all these happy people.
Cali Girl and Me together: I hate them.

Please factor in my PMS-ing, which translates roughly to feelings of depression, fatness, and fugliness, and we have a "God? Are you up there? No, for real, someone make sure he's still there because I am totally not sure that He is in the building taking calls," situation.

Maybe I'm not encapsulating properly the magnitude of my feelings of inferiority, but imagine feeling cruddy and being surrounded by these people who seemingly have everything YOU want and are flaunting it in front of you. Multiply that feeling by 7890 lbs of food and you will have, at this moment, me.

If it sounds like I am whining, it is because I AM.

Thank you and goodnight.

PS: not to undermine the sadnessosity of this post, but said sadness has been slightly alleviated because "Womanizer" is quite fun to sing out loud to with vigorous head-nodding and dramatic finger-pointing. Just so you know.

PPS: My first paycheck came in today. God may not be on my side today (I keed) but He surely is in my checking account. GLORY!

Super Sunday

I am not woman enough to liveblog the entire Super Bowl, but before I do my part as an American and tune in to The Big Game, I must say this:

JENNIFER HUDSON ABSOLUTELY SANG THAT SHIT.

Why, I almost cried. I definitely had to clutch my pearls on that one.

That is all.

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.

Life's Questions

If you had to choose...

• ...between being a bad person and only attracting bad people, which would you choose?
• ...to 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?
• ...to 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!

Oh, Put a Lid...I Mean, Ring, On It

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:

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 :)

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'm Freaking Out

Classic college conundrum**: I just found out that I have a 15-page paper due on Tuesday. Your eyes do not deceive you, it is indeed Saturday evening. Please join me in a memorial service for my weekend/sanity. I'm kicking my own ass right now for not realizing. Fuck. Pray for me long and hard.

**I am so glad that even in these trying times I manage to alliterate. I amaze myself.

Update: It's Sunday, and I have about 9-10 pages done. Applaud my strength! That's pretty impressive, considering I keep getting distracted by Facebook, random blogs, and music. Jazmine Sullivan's "Lions, Tigers, and Bears" and Usher's "Love You Gently" are officially My Shit. Even though I'm a public school computer, somehow I got ITunes to work and currently have a nice little playlist going. My awesomeness is unparalleled. Just...wow. It should be illegal.

My Favorite Dirty Mistress

If I go to bed now, the weekend will be over, so I'm still perched on the couch watching Grey's Anatomy. Speaking of which, today (well, yesterday) is McSteamy's birthday. Gotta loove those Scorpios (listen to "Signs of Lovemaking" by Tyrese. Our reputations preceed us). Yum-o. I'd take some OR time with him any day of the week...

More later, my comp hopefully comes back all bright and shiny tomorrow. I haven't forgotten about being blog-survey tagged by Vixen Chick, so look out for that. Also, is anyone tatted up out there? I want one but my chicken-shit side is coming out. I'm thinking of getting a small four-leaf clover on my shoulder...because I'm Lucky, get it? What do you think? Happy Monday, yall!

City Love

I'm going to bed soon, I swear.

I just had to comment on the momentous occasion that today (well, yesterday) was John Mayer's birthday. As one of my All Time Favorite artists, I wouldn't feel right unless I marked the day. John's (I call him that because we're tight like that) first album, "Room for Squares" reminds me of high school. I was just starting to come into my own and that CD got me through. I remember the first time I heard "Your Body is a Wonderland." It was a Thursday evening. I remember the first time I saw him in concert--it was outside, and I still have the t-shirt. I remember staring at my ceiling, playing "Love Song for No One" over and over, singing with the music that said "I'm tired of being alone/so hurry up and/get here." My favorite quote is from "Why Georgia Why" that goes:

So what
So I've got a smile on?
Well it's hiding
The quiet superstitions
In my head.
Don't believe me
Don't believe me
Don't believe me
When I say
I've got it down
Everybody's just a stranger
But that's the danger in
Going my own way
Guess it's a price I have to pay
Still everything happens for a reason
That's the reason why
I ask myself
Am I living it right?
Am I living it right?
Am I living it right?
Why, Georgia, why?

Anyone who has figured out the album "Room for Squares" has, in turn, figured me out. In which case he (hopefully it's a he) should marry me immediately because John Mayer has managed to take almost every insecurity or looming, wondering thought I've ever had, twist it around to make perfect sense, and put it against his acoustic guitar.

And for that, I am eternally grateful.

I'm Not Bitter I'm Just Sayin'

I am nothing if not a staunch perpetuate of that highly coveted "Black love." I think it is a beautiful thing. And I love my roommate as much as someone can love a roommate they barely see but is still somehow slightly jealous of. Honest-it seems like I complain about her a lot but she's a great person to live with. I have issues, not her.

But. When I am trying to relax at the kitchen table and watch Youtube videos of sex songs, I need to do so alone. I was, in fact, doing so alone, until I heard the front door open and had to snatch my 'do-rag off quickly, forgetting that the jumbo-sized bag of Tostitos on which I was snacking was, uh, hers. I thought Roommate and BF would go upstairs and screw or something, seeing as they hadn't seen each other in like three days after her business trip. Oh, no. They sauntered around on the couch in front of the TV deciding what they wanted for dinner. Except the TV was OFF. THE CABLE IS BROKEN! I wanted to scream. SO WHY ARE YOU STILL DOWN HERE?!?

If you think I let us dance around in semi-awkward silence, you know nothing about the art of survival. I chose the least romantic music on my Itunes, ergo, Lil Wayne.

To cap it off, after losing an entire post dedicated to Lil Wayne last night because of bitchy Comcast, I spent a dramatic two days trying to install the stupid wireless internet. After I finally succeeded, Roommate comes home and asks if we can move the router upstairs into the office. Hold the hell on. I slaved over this internet connection. I forged a path through about a thousand different cords (how many fucking cords do you need to get ethernet? DSL? Whatever it's called) to set up Linksys. I yelled at the automated and completely useless tech support lady to put that thing up. Putting it together the first 50 times was traumatic enough. That router is staying right the hell where I left it. For now, at least.

Breathe. When they come back downstairs, I need to be safely in my room. I hate leaving while they're down here because every time I try they say something like, "Oh, you don't have to leave!" while they are giving each other back rubs or something.

To which I say, oh, but I do.