Talkin' Bout Mai.Gurl: Ladylyfe speaks.

once upon a time...

2012-01-26T22:48:00.000-05:00

there was a boy who i'd talk to every day by phone, or chat, or text, or face to face, for hours and days at a time....... and we became great friends, and close confiandantes... and eventually became passionate lovers of all things "us"..... and i loved him unconditionally, for many years, just because at one point, he'd talk to me about any and everything, every day. and i liked him.

.........i'd love for something like that to happen again. at some point.

What the -Anisa Effect- has taught me.

2012-01-05T02:34:00.003-05:00

I've had a little over 24 hours to process Anisa's passing, and it's going to take a lot more to really come to grips with the loss of her being, despite understanding how ferocious the monster Cancer can be. You see, Anisa is one of those stars that shone bright yet hung low enough to embrace every day; she was the type of star that if you bothered to leave your house with the intentions to enjoy a musical evening under the glow of the moon, surely somewhere in the city, Anisa was to be found SHINING. And THAT is the poignancy of her life. It is what I'll always cherish of her memory.

I spent the waking hours of last night really analyzing what our friend Augi called her ---> relentless DRIVE <--- to continue doing what she loved: Being on stage singing R&B. Even before ever becoming aware of her fate with cancer, Anisa's DRIVE was ridiculous! It only took a thought, and sometimes very little planning, and Anisa was DOING IT! Over the late 90's and up until recently, she was able to collaborate with what can be considered an All Star lineup of NYC's indie-music artists; it'd take all day to list the various musicians, MCs and singers this girl has worked with in her life!! Where I fit in is small scale, a fleeting moment even:

A few years ago, Anisa hosted an open mic that our friend Nate brought to the Five Spot in Brooklyn; during those years, I, along with Augi, would sing a lot of the background vocals for and with Anisa and the many artists that graced the Five every Wednesday during that time period. And thus was the beautifully FUN Soul F'Real open mic showcase; in those glorious days (as my memory would have it), we truly lived Wednesday to Wednesday for the joy of what went on during our shows and working with everyone. I was, by far, -not- the best singer in that room, ever, BUT I so cherish how I was able to find my voice, groove and comfortable spot on the stage as a result of Anisa and Augi's encouragement. And I love how I've grown as a singer because of the seeds planted during that time. I struggle with wondering, now, did I actually TELL HER the degree to which I appreciated the time we regularly worked together..... (Every now and then, people come up to me in Brooklyn, some I recognize and some I don't, saying, "Hey, I used to come by the Five Spot every Wednesday a few years ago and see you guys! How's Anisa???" Those moments will now be bittersweet, but mostly sweet.)

Soul F'Real, however, is only one project of a LONG LIST of showcases, collaborations, recordings and jam sessions that Anisa did in her short life. Had cancer not stricken her, I know for a fact that the list of performances and recordings would have only continued. And, again, I point this out because I'm really understanding Anisa's drive to do what she loved on THIS side of the circumstance.

For me, I think that while her acclaim and the level of professional opportunities she reached may not be as far reaching as many of her peers and collaborators, Anisa has consistently been working at her craft, goals and desires in a way that made NOT SINGING a non-option. At the point where Anisa had an idea, before you knew it, she'd hustled up a location and a band, and #BOOM flyers were out! At the point where creative differences perhaps occurred, Anisa would find other opportunities to do what she wanted on other stages. It's like she knew that there is no shortage of stages in NYC! When I think of many of the indie singers I've come across over the years, Anisa comes to mind with having sang background for them or been featured on their recordings.

Besides the Soul F'Real memories, which are eternally legendary in my mind, my favorite memory of helping Anisa push a vision through was the Christmas Soul Carolers idea in 2008! While certainly there were unforgettable moments along with questionable moments during our little experiment in caroling with Anisa (!!!!!!!), what was so admirable was that she literally MADE IT HAPPEN with a simple vision to sing for New Yorkers and tourists in Times Square, had the group record three songs despite having no budget, and had tons of the -Tis The Season Joy- throughout the whole experience... and the five of us will never forget that time with her. That steady JOY & OPTIMISM in her spirit that will follow as a part of her overall legacy. (AND the smile.... and the laugh.... and the dancing.... and the beatboxing!)

╰☆╮Anisa Fujah's Christmas Soul Carolers!!!╰☆╮ by ladylyfe

So, Anisa's legacy is inspirational to me because it represents having the wherewithall to DO what you create in your mind to do, and to leave your indelible mark on the world (Much like the HU sister we lost only days ago, Kibibi Dillon, another glowing yet embraceable STAR who left the world much too soon). They are teaching me that you --DO--, not simply because someone asked you to do it, but because you KNOW that you were put here to DO it. Anisa has also taught me that regardless of whether connections with musical collaborators last long-term or not, there's ALWAYS someone else or another incarnation of that connection or project or partner to get creative work done, or to simply re-connect later on different, more progressive terms; there's always someone who will listen to what it is you want to do with them, and give you the opportunity to DO IT, either with them or in their establishment, or where EVER. It's not like I didn't realize this before she passed away, I totally know this, but it is underscored and emboldened in my mind ever more so, now that I'm able to really survey what she did and how she did it over the past decade.

And, so... my new year's resolution is more of an affirmation of life for Anisa, and a proclamation for the things I want to do as a part of the example she's illuminated and the inspiration she's left:

I purpose to do less THINKING about what it is I want to do, musically and creatively, and just simply DO IT. Most of my friends and loved ones include musicians, vocalists, MCs, writers, filmmakers, djs, photographers, publicists, actors, illustrators, all kinds of creative types, educators and COUNTLESS supporters (shout out to EVERYONE in my life that I love-- which is basically everyone!) What a joy it would be to begin a season of collaborating with them (or --YOU, dear reader!--) on projects that can contribute to the all inclusive legacy we have. So, I am putting it out there, to God, to the universe, to my friends, to my loved ones, and to those I don't know:

Let's allow

The Anisa Effect

to draws us together

and create some beautiful music. <3

RIP ANISA FUJAH, and thank you.

.....KEEP SHINING.......

<3 <3 <3

Anisa, rest in power

2012-01-04T06:37:00.000-05:00

there's so much to say, but for now, i'll just listen.

Zooey & Joey

2011-12-30T21:24:00.001-05:00

swooon!

Meet the family of the 2yr old Freestyle Phenom from Youtube!

2011-12-13T19:32:00.007-05:00

Late last week, the impressive video of a baby boy in London only two years old with a brilliant freestyle flow went viral on YouTube. The video, showing little Khaliyl Iloyi flowing his way into the hearts of hip-hop and baby lovers worldwide, was uploaded in late November and will soon have over a million hits!

What I love is that lil Khaliyl is going HARD with his, but I'm sure everyone's question is, WHERE HE GET THAT FLOW FROM????

Apparently, not only was he born with the gift, but his older brother, Kieyen, also has a golden mic in his hand! Here he is at age 3 spittin' a verse that seems like it's fiyah (if only I could understand everything he was saying)!! I know what' s really up though, @1:57 he declares "Nobody can test me now!!" And you know what... I BELIEVE HIM! Although, I kind of want to see Khaliyl and Kieyen battle it out on the playground!!! LOL!

These two lil toddler griots are the products of love from parents Femi Iloyi and Roucheon Iloyi. I haven't been able to find out much about who they are, but it seems they are indie artists/MC and songstress, holding it down on the London scene.

One cut from the mom, Roucheon, called "Midnight Melody" I'm really digging. I think it was produced by her husband, but I'm not entirely sure. It's got a summertime, party time cookout vibe to it! Definitely a headbob, bounce rock skate vibe, indeed!

And lastly, the father of the tiny prodigy MCs is Femi Iloyi! I watched this video of him with the older son highlighting their READING LIST which included Holocaust for Beginners, Africa for Beginners, Black Women for Beginners, The Making of Our President Barack Obama, and The Making of Our First Lady Michelle Obama. They also explain how they love comics and graphic novels: "We're a comic family," Femi says before showing a book called Black People in Comics. "We're comic fanatics, but most of all we love history books." I can dig it!

Femi stresses how important it is to read with your children, and clearly that is the first step to having brilliant lil two and three year old MCs with the illest freestyle worldwide, hands down!

CHEERS to the Iloyi family! I am really, really impressed. And I think the world is as well!!

Love Story: World's AID's Day edition

2011-12-02T01:12:00.002-05:00

Love and HIV: Couples forge relationships despite challenges

November 30, 2010|By Deborah L. Shelton and Dahleen Glanton, Tribune reporters

Kathy Jacobs-McLoyd didn't expect to fall in love with someone with HIV. But when the man she had recently spent time volunteering with in Kenya sent her a six-page love letter, she opened up to the possibilities.

"One day early on, I turned to look at you or say something and my heart just kind of skipped a beat, it fluttered in my chest … and just as quickly rose to my throat leaving me momentarily speechless," Peter McLoyd wrote.

Within six months, they were married. Now, they are among the country's growing number of HIV serodiscordant couples — or, more simply, "magnet couples" who are attracted to each other even though one partner is positive and one is negative.

As the HIV epidemic moves into its third decade, people who are infected with the virus are living longer, healthier lives, public health officials say. As a result, they are dating, falling in love and forming families, sometimes with a partner who does not have the virus.

Their stories underscore the power of love to conquer fear. But such relationships can bring significant emotional challenges.

For the person without HIV, there is constant worry about the health of his or her loved one. For the positive partner, there is the fear of unintentionally passing on the infection. And for both, there is often anxiety about how friends and family will react to the relationship.

Jacobs-McLoyd, 56, was moved by the love letter she received, but it went unanswered for several days. She knew McLoyd had HIV — he became infected as a result of intravenous drug use about 10 years ago — and she wasn't sure she could get involved.

"Did I want to? Could I? What does this mean?" she remembers nervously asking herself.

In the end, she decided not to let a virus get in the way of love. The couple sealed their commitment with a City Hall marriage in 2004, followed the next year by a traditional African ceremony in Kenya.

"I knew him already," she said. "I knew his character; people loved him. I thought he was a good catch. He was good-looking and sexy, and I thought, 'Why not?'"

In some cases, the HIV-negative person goes into the relationship not knowing their partner is infected — either because the information is not disclosed right away or it is not yet known. The eventual disclosure can be an emotional land mine.

During the dating stage, the biggest hurdle for the HIV-positive person is when to tell the prospective partner, said Celeste Watkins-Hayes, an HIV- AIDS researcher and faculty fellow at the Institute for Policy Research at Northwestern University.

Later, as the relationship becomes more committed, couples often worry about whom to trust with the information, she said.

That issue can remain a sticking point until the couple come to an agreement about which family members and friends should be told, said Rae Lewis-Thornton, an HIV-AIDS activist in Chicago who has lived with the virus for 24 years.

"For many people, it is a difficult relationship because it comes with guilt on the infected person's part. There is always this layer of stigma and shame, which is very real in this country, particularly in the black community," said Lewis-Thornton, who was married to an HIV-negative man for four years before divorcing. "That is a barrier that must be overcome before couples get to a really good place and can be comfortable."

Joann Montes, 46, of Chicago, said her boyfriend of eight years doesn't want to tell his family she is infected. As she has become more open about it — she was featured Monday in the Tribune in a story about living with HIV — the public disclosure has put more strain on their relationship.

"We were friends before we dated and he knew about my status, that was never a problem," she said. "The problem came when other people found out we were dating. There were friends who thought it was not a good idea for him to be dating me. They made comments like: 'You can do better than that.'"

The remarks stung, especially because she was trying to come to terms with her HIV, she said.

Such couples also face the challenge of protecting the uninfected partner during sex.

"Couples have to come to an understanding about what safety means in the relationship, and they have to follow it to the letter of the law," Lewis-Thornton said. "That can be harder as you become more comfortable in the relationship. If the condom breaks in the height of sex, do you stop and risk him being angry with you?"

Debbie Rivera's husband, Mike, gets tested regularly for HIV and is uninfected, and the Chicago couple usually practice safe sex. But they agree it is a challenge.

"There are times when we're in the heat of the moment and we don't take precautions," said Debbie Rivera, 31, who tested positive for HIV in 1999. She said that because of antiretroviral medication, the amount of virus in her blood is at undetectable levels.

The chance of transmitting the virus is greatly reduced when antiretroviral drugs have lowered the amount of HIV in the blood to undetectable levels, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. And for biological reasons, women are less likely to transmit the virus than men. But health experts say the virus can still be transmitted, and they recommend regular condom use.

In Illinois, more than 32,000 people are living with HIV or AIDS, according to the latest data from the Illinois Department of Public Health. Chicago's HIV infection prevalence rate of 761 per 100,000 population is about three times greater than the national rate of 275 per 100,000.

"I know more and more people who are choosing HIV-infected partners," said Lora Branch, former director of the division of sexually transmitted infections and HIV at the Chicago Department of Public Health. "It's not that unusual anymore."

It is difficult to determine how many people with HIV are part of serodiscordant couples, because little research has been done, said Dr. Deborah Cohan, associate professor of obstetrics, gynecology and reproductive sciences at the University of California at San Francisco.

"It's a hidden population," she said.

But a study published in 2001 in the journal Family Planning Perspectives found that about half the HIV-positive men and women who were surveyed about their desire to have children reported their spouse or primary partner was HIV-negative, Cohan said.

Branch said she believes gays and heterosexuals make up an equal number of magnet couples, who span the demographic spectrum of race and class.

"The relationships that are most likely to last are ones where the healthy partner goes into it fully knowledgeable about the health risks, the medical challenges and other issues involved with being HIV-positive," said Watkins-Hayes, who is also an associate professor of sociology and African-American studies. "Those who enter these relationships unprepared for what it means are the ones most likely to fail."

The McLoyds, who live in south suburban Matteson, said they decided to be interviewed about their relationship because they wanted to tackle the stigma surrounding HIV. McLoyd is consumer development and advocacy coordinator in prevention and education at the CORE Center. Both have two children from previous relationships.

"We wring our hands about stigma," McLoyd said, speaking about advocates and people with HIV, "but we don't do anything about it. By putting a face to it, you reduce the impact."

Relaxing at home with their Great Dane, D'ogie, the McLoyds are comfortable in their relationship. But Jacobs-McLoyd had not told close family members about her husband's HIV diagnosis before agreeing to participate in this story. The thought of such a conversation caused her to take nervous, deep breaths.

"In the back of my mind, there was this fear they would treat him differently when they found out he was positive because of all the stigma," she said. "I didn't want to make a choice between family and my husband."

Jacobs-McLoyd said she sees she hadn't given her relatives enough credit. "I got really good feedback from those I've told," she said.

The McLoyds say more resources should be available to support couples in their situation, and they want to form a support group.

Jacobs-McLoyd said that although she fights the urge to be overprotective about her husband's health, the couple's relationship is more typical than not.

"(HIV) doesn't define who we are," Jacobs-McLoyd said. "We are just a married couple like any other couple.

Monday's love story

2011-11-14T18:03:00.003-05:00

Today's story of love at first encounter that inspired me............ for better or for worse, sooner, or later, love is on the way!
------------------

http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/love-blooms-zuccotti-park-protesting-occupy-wall-street-lovebirds-tie-knot-article-1.976954

Love blooms in Zuccotti Park: Protesting Occupy Wall Street lovebirds tie the knot

Activists met at protest in September

BY Sam Levin
NEW YORK DAILY NEWS

Originally Published: Sunday, November 13 2011, 1:27 PM

Two lovebirds who met protesting Wall Street in Zuccotti Park tied the knot Sunday morning at a humble ceremony in a small corner of the ongoing demonstration.

In front of about a dozen friends and onlookers, Emery Abdel-Latif, 24, and Micha Balon, 19, held a traditional Muslim wedding on Trinity Place and Liberty Street, perched on a small bench next to the park's famous sculpture of a seated man with a briefcase.

“We have to be able to understand truly how unique this relationship is,” said Khalid Latif, the chaplain at New York University who married the eager duo.

“You have been given a deep blessing today,” he said.

The two activists met in September when they were trying to find a space in the crowded park to pray. They immediately hit it off.

A month later, they both knew they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together - without delay.

“We met here and it’s cheap. We don’t have to pay anything,” said the giddy bride, dressed in a white skirt and blouse with a small cloak.

“I'm really glad God has granted me someone who cares about people in this world other than himself.”

Balon, a Hunter College student from Staten Island studying human rights and Middle East studies, said marrying in Zuccotti Park’s “sacred space” ensured their life together was starting on the right note.

“This is a good way not to make the marriage about ourselves,” she said. “We are fighting for equality here. This is a great way to start off our marriage.”

Abdel-Latif, a prospective law student from West Chester County, Pa., said Balon changed his life.

“I'm not sure I believed in love before I met her,” he said. “She's the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

After they sealed the deal, the small crowd applauded and the couple scrambled to take wedding photos amid the sea of tents.

“I think it’s a cute love story - one of the cutest I've ever heard,” said Quainat Zaman, 19, a college friend of Balon’s.

In another part of the park, a huge phalanx of volunteer doctors and nurses dispensed free flu shots to protect the protesters with winter looming.

“We're getting 99 doctors and nurses here to help the 99%,” said Dr. John Jacoby with Physicians for a National Health Program. “We are here to say that everyone needs health care.”

Dr. Mary O'Brien, who was helping out, said: “Many people here are young and healthy. We'd like to keep them that way.”

the latest of many love stories that move me

2011-11-12T00:05:00.012-05:00

I was encouraged by one of my favorite New Yorkers to create a scrapbook collection of the truest of true love stories that I happen come across..... You see, I'm voracious for these type of anecdotes; the enviable true life accounts of two people standing at the crossroad of that ride-or-die realization, "YEAH.... you are the one for me!" And the life changing journey that ensues once they're really ready to sing that Willie Hutch hook to one another--I choose you, baby-- and mean it. (I collect these stories and keep them tucked away in my mental treasure chest with hopes that I'll one day add my own enviable experience to the top of the pile.) While I haven't really gotten around to chronicling each and every one of these savored love stories I've heard (just yet, anyway), I relish in the opportunity to recount the ones that come to me and really shape the way I think about this thing called love.

-------

Last week, I had a conversation with someone who shared this story with me:

About ten years ago, at the age of 34, I was living in Russia in the process of a bitter divorce. At the time, a very spiritual women told me that I would have a long life after I journey to another place, perhaps to another country. I did not believe her then, but here it is ten years later, and I am here in America. Looking back, I was a young women who was very upset after my divorce process and I was thinking about my life. I wanted a happy life. So, I decided to see about meeting someone on an internet dating site and I searched for men in my city. After a while I noticed that I could change the city and even the country of your search, so of course I chose America, New York City! One day while searching I saw the picture of a very nice man and looked at his profile. When he saw that I looked at his profile, he wrote me. This led to us chatting on a regular basis. And that is how our love story began.

After 9 months of chatting every day, and later talking by phone three times a day - everyday - we decided to meet. At the time, we just happened to get very bad news that he had gotten cancer, and so, for me, there was only one option. We decided to fight it - together. That's how I got to New York.

We were together for about five years,
and it was the happiest years
of my life.

But, one year ago, he died.........

After his death, I decided to become a registered nurse because I want to help people who have cancer or other diseases.....

-----------
She went on to talk about the determination she has in continuing this life here in NYC as a 44 year old widow who's trajectory changed just because she was willing to take an [extreme/life changing] chance on love.

At 34 (one and a half years older than my current age*), she was living in Russia, crushed over a marriage that did not work, unhappy and not sure what the rest of her story entailed. Someone spoke into her life that set the wheels in motion to her journey across many seas. Yet she didn't have the faith, or maybe the wherewithal that led to faith, to even know that the option this woman had spoken to her was even a possibility. And then one day, just on a whim, she changed a setting on her online dating profile which led to another whole existence one decade later. Who knew her love story would be only five or six short years. But it had such an impact beyond LOVE that not only did it bring joy ("the happiest years of my life") but it shaped who she is becoming for the duration of her journey in this life.

I've thought about this every day since hearing it. Mainly because, I'm a sucker for a precious love story; my parents have one, a few of my friends have them, I'm sent links to read about the stories involving couples I'll never meet but know through the snapshot of their love... I watch sitcoms that champion life changing love connections and daydream that I'll experience such a connection over the arc of many, many fruitful years with a warm fella who knows how to make me smile. But rarely do I think about, what if it's only five or six years that I'll have such a connection with said love before one of us is called into the next realm. (Nobody really thinks about that, right?) I mean, if such circumstance were to occur, even in the tragedy, surely it will have been worth the ride. (I am reminded of Sunshyne's short and sweet love story before going on into glory.) But it also underscores the degree to which that person you're connected with really impacts who you become in life and vice versa. To what degree is the love of your life helping to shape who you are becoming, in the most positive ways? That's a beautiful question to answer when you're with the right person.

So, from this story, I am inspired. Because it is a bonafide, legitimate love story. (Sidebar: I watched the movie "Love Story"with Ryan O'neal and Ali MacGraw about a year ago, and it had some of the same tragic yet inspiring elements....) But also because I am a witness to the impact of a person (who is no longer among the living) on their beloved, a woman who took the chance to love him back. First, in her broken limited scope of life, then from across the distance of continents, and lastly, through a major illness that ultimately took his life.

I applaud them both. And I cherish their story.

*I often jokingly, but half seriously, say that I'm such a latebloomer that I'll probably be 40 before I get ready to marry someone, let alone think about a kid, but I love how her story began at an age that I haven't even reached yet. For whatever it's worth, it just proves that there is no set time, parameters or time zones to determine when true love is going to hit you up! Werd.

It's getting closer to the date that we need to move

2011-08-14T17:53:00.002-04:00

and I'm really bummed about it. I'm trying to just suck it up and find a place for us to move to, but nothing is speaking to me. Well, us. And because of that, I would be willing to move into the house next door, even though there's all kinds of problems and issues, because at least it's on the block that I want to be on. But my brother is not keen on that idea, and based on the seeming drama around the property, my parents don't think it's a good idea either. So, the question becomes, do we leave the neighborhood altogether? Do we decide to increase our desired rent to stay in the vicinity? Do we ask for an extension to find a place (right now we have until Oct? Do we need until Dec?) Anyway..... it's all weighing too heavily on my mind, and doesn't seem to be anything my brother is worrying too much about. I mean, I find the places to look at and tell him what time we need to be there... other than that, he can basically live anywhere. I, on the other hand, have this ridiculous connection to my community, the block I live on, the park across the street. And it's just becoming too much to say, okay I am ready to walk away, because I am not. I keep looking for divine intervention, or a miracle of sorts that will determine that we do not have to pack up and leave. Or if we do, we still get to stay within a one block radius.

I guess I will just have to learn to get on with it.... You know. This needs to be done, so find a place and believe that it will be the best apartment situation for you to move into.

....................so sad right now.

Saturday night

2011-06-12T00:50:00.002-04:00

When you're at home, nursing a summercold, and have been in the bed all day.....

and then gone to the neighbor's for some dinner, a bit of tea, vitamin C, and tlc.....

and then you end up back at home, in the bed... still nursing the summercold..

you wonder why there's no sweetheart around,

and start to miss that mythic companion that you hear about

that takes care of you when you're sick.

i actually physically feel a lot better than I did yesterday,

but, I still miss *somebody* being around, to make me smile.

..........oh well...... back to the interwebz i go for enjoyment.

(*cough*sniff*sniff*)

Rest in Peace to Grandma Huxtable, Clarice Taylor

2011-06-03T20:45:00.001-04:00

http://www.npr.org/blogs/monkeysee/2011/06/03/136916446/the-art-of-the-sitcom-grandparent-remembering-clarice-taylor

"I'm a couple of days late mentioning the passing of Clarice Taylor, who died on Monday at the age of 93, but indulge me.

Taylor played Anna Huxtable, Cliff's mother, on The Cosby Show, beginning in 1984. She and Earle Hyman, who played her husband Russell, put together quite possibly the fullest portrayal of grandparents that the half-hour sitcom has ever produced. (Clair's parents, played by jazz great Joe Williams and Ethel Ayler, showed up much less frequently but just as effectively.)

Certainly, some of the credit goes to the decision to write them as revered, rather than just daffy, and to emphasize over and over that they were not dreaded as comedy grandparents often are. They were not unwelcome nags, they were not out-of-touch bundles of fussing and fretting — they were fun, and seeing them was a treat, without any of the impatience and eye-rolling that older relatives are assumed to inspire, particularly in teenagers.

And, of course, for Russell and Anna's 49th anniversary, the family put together a musical salute that, even when television wasn't heavily analyzed episode by episode and assigned grades by a hundred different internet destinations, was an instant and widely discussed classic. (Before discussion forums and texting, that's what happened — you went to school, or to work, and everybody said, "DID YOU SEE THAT COSBY LAST NIGHT?" Hard to believe, I know.)

But for all that characters come from writers, Taylor and Hyman also brought Anna and Russell both easy good humor and tremendous dignity. They were open about struggles (especially during the civil rights movement), but they embraced their son and his family with playful affection. They were in the family, not imposed upon it. Of course, as playful as they were, as kind as they were, they were also revered and treated as treasures. (When young Theo got his ear pierced, it was his grandparents who were assumed to be the ultimate in potentially condemning authority, but they turned out to be understanding — it perfectly sums up their role, really.)

"It wasn't Taylor's only role — she also appeared on Sesame Street, and in Clint Eastwood's Play Misty For Me, and in other roles. But, not for nothing, she may have been one of the most fully formed grandmothers that a half-hour comedy ever had."

Wow....

2011-06-03T15:34:00.002-04:00

I'm just realizing that I haven't posted a blog in almost a month.... but I have been living a wonderful life that is worthy of documenting, for sure.

So. I guess, at some point, whether it's in this blog, or in a memoir, I'll get it all out!

Cheers to the joy of life!

"...Hungry to feel good about something" --Brian Williams, MSNBC

2011-05-02T04:19:00.003-04:00

That best sums up what I witnessed in lower Manhattan of the Americans spilling out into the streets chanting USA-USA-USA in celebration of the breaking news on bin Laden.

I'll set up the scene that led to me unexpectedly being amongst the midnight marauders @2am:

I was spending the evening with dear friends in Brooklyn pontificating the likelihood (or even unlikelihood) of certain things in recent history such as, say, did OJ actually do it? or did Michael actually bleach his skin? Age old questions to which we know the answers yet still debate ad naseum when amongst old friends and rum is involved... Someone happened to go online shortly after midnight and looked up saying, "Something on facebook saying that Osama bin Laden is dead??" and we all look up like, "What? nahhhhh..." but I opened the lap top to confirm what he was talking about. (I'll spare you the content of conversation that followed--ranging from "wow, dag, forreal?" to "you all believe anything they tell you, don't you???!!!!") We spent the next 30 mins being entertained by fb statuses and tweets supporting both opinions of this news. The general consensus, though, was a sobering "well, what does it all mean??" whether he died today or six months ago, or is still alive? Like, folks get it on the surface, but really...... what does it mean?

Anyway, I ended up getting home around 1am and my brother was sitting in the living room with his jacket and shoes on watching MSNBC. On the screen were the images; scores of people between Pennsylvania Avenue at the White House and Ground Zero in NYC flooding the streets in jubilation and victory... I wasn't aware that all of this was going on because we weren't watching the news on TV at my friends'. I thought about how the last time people have flooded the streets like this was when Obama was elected in Nov. 2008; on that evening I decided to stay home and watch the news as it unfolded from my bed instead of experience it out amongst the hustle and bustle of the people. So at 1:30am, I decided to get on the train and go out to Manhattan to check the scene... simple as that.

I arrived into the heart of American Patriotism at Ground Zero around 2am.

I witnessed first hand the chanting in creative variation...... the screams and hoots, the mass euphoria in the form of bursts of song... the Star Spangled Banner and the Pledge of Allegiance to the flag in unison. And the flags.... so many flags, stars and stripes, stripes and peace signs. Huge flags that could have been stolen from buildings...There was a brotha out hustling little $1 American flags. I said, "Brotha, WHERE you get those flags? WHY do you have so many of them this time of night?" He responded, "I knew this day was coming! You didn't?" Me: "No, actually, I didn't know this day was coming. Not today, not May 2nd 2011. I can definitely say that I did not." "Well, I did," he said, "You trying to get a flag?" "I'm good, brotha, thanks..." I continued forging through the throngs of people.

You definitely could tell who the family members of 9/11 victims were. They didn't just exercise euphoric patriotism; for them, this was a celebration of the lives of their loved ones more than anything else. More than vindication, it was a time to remember and reflect. Some people stood silent and said nothing, and you could only imagine what consumed their thoughts. There was a number of photographs and portraits accompanied by touching stories by family members. The Emerald Society of the NYPD played a haunting rendition of Amazing Grace on bagpipe while soldiers, FDNY (and goofballs) climbed the high street signs of Church and Vessey to lead the mass of folks below with more chanting. College boys sat on one another's shoulders and chanted ".....Nah nah nah naaahhhh, heeeeyyy heyyyy heyyyy, GOOD BYEEEEE" while party girls body surfed. New Yorkers were really holding the scene down...

There were two Hasidic Jewish men sharing a beer off to the side taking it all in. I asked what they thought of the whole thing, and one replied, "This is a good thing. After ten years, it's about time! This is good." I nodded, smiled and moved on. Waded through the crowd some more, read the signs, "WE CHEER FOR PEACE, NOT DEATH!" Saw a dread in a suit and stopped to ask what he thought about this whole thing? In his Trini accent, his sentiments were the same, "It's been ten years, people need something to celebrate, don't you think?" I kept wading through, and asked one more person what he thought, "It's amazing." That's all he said.

But, what exactly is amazing? I keep asking myself. I feel neither joyous patriotism that WE DID IT (no disrespect to Brotha President and his road to victory in 2012), nor do I express conspiracies that this is all a farce. But I do acknowledge that this latest development, the current event in US History unfolding, leaves me uneasy at best. Because, at the end of the day, I don't know what this, any of it, means, as an American, as a citizen of the World, as a human being, as a child of God. And as we all know, the TRUTHS of history are often buried along with the dead, or locked up amongst classified information, only to be dug up by scholars and historians decades, sometimes centuries later.

So, as for the celebrations, I have observed them merely for the sake of watching a piece of history unfold first hand (similar to inauguration day, I WAS there), whatever that history turns out to be. And I get that New Yorkers, if not Americans, but definitely those who were standing where I stood ten years ago, are feeling a burst of jubilee in retribution. For the celebration that was in tribute to the lives lost, I support that one hundred percent. For the hundreds of thousands who have lost lives as a result of this whole thing, from 09- through today, and beyond, I sympathize for the lost of life. I will not ignore that truth in the name of celebration.

Anyway, one thing is for certain; whether you keep living or you give up your life, we will definitely come to understand what this all means, one way or another.

Insight: into the motherless and Muslim first/second wives

2011-04-26T00:30:00.006-04:00

There were a number of sista writers who shared their experiences being mothers, daughters and motherless tonight at the Brecht Forum. The trials and tribulations they've overcome by means of their womanhood, persevering, surviving, thriving, being angry, being torn, and healing from and through it all. The panel consisted of Asha Bandele, Staceyann Chin, Stacey Patton, and Dian Brooks, three of whom were abandoned by mothers, two of whom are currently mothers, one of whom is preparing to become such a precious incarnation of herself, and one who's just completed a phd weeks ago in a subject related to childrearing and the affects of post-slavery influences on the Black Family, or something of that nature (I'm SURE I'm writing incorrectly but was impressed with just the same). These sistas shared some heavy tales and testimonies to their journeys, dealing with abuse and abandonment, healing, forgiveness (or the lack thereof) and pressing forward, and so much more. At the close of the symposium I was wrought with the hankering to call my mother and thank her for her overbearing and reliable presence and LOVE MANIFESTED in my life for all of my days since before I was born! It is truly a blessing that I've experienced no abuse in my lifetime, and should I EVER become a mother, I'd pray the same experience of my child... Surely, it's no easy task, but the stories shared this evening were, in deed, inspired and necessary.

But what was most striking to me was the conversation I had with a sista named after a beautiful Persian queen that I'll leave out for the sake of this random posting. She was an ageless Muslima, covered from her eyebrows to her shoe strings, layered in burka and coat, and eager to share a walk to the train with a fellow sistren. My head was also covered, though while my hair hung long below the wrap, I highly doubt she got the impression that I'm also Muslima. She flagged me down as I was leaving the Brecht Forum and insisted on walking with me to the train, which I gladly obliged, as after dark twos traveling by foot are often better than one. On the walk we introduced ourselves and gave our impressions on the speakers who shared. I expressed the same sentiment, that after hearing these stories, I need to call my mom immediately and thank her for her undeniable love, affection, support (financial and otherwise) and mere presence in my life. She shared a little of her experiences as a girl and how they related to the evening's topic, and I smiled as I listened.

Then, still blocks from the train, she turned to me and smiled, "I'm going to share something with you, I don't know why, but with tonight's empowering message I just feel like I should share." And in the course of telling me about her four children ranging from 4 - 16 years of age (I can't escape my special #, 416!), she was nearly in tears when she began to explain that her Muslim husband of so many years (at least 16)--whom she has loved and adored dearly while doing all that she possibly could to be the kind of upstanding wife that a man could appreciate and love--expressed to her that per his religious right, he would like to take a second wife. A SECOND WIFE (and keep HER)! At this day and age: 2011 in Brooklyn, NY! I kept a straight face and listened to her anxieties unfold as we walked, but I could not even imagine what it would be like to hear your husband tell you he desires and intends to take a second wife. She was resolute to explain that though she values being a submissive wife, she is strong and liberated in mindset; she was in the military, afterall. She's obtaining her degree from CUNY. She is doing all that she can to be a positive example of womanhood, being a wife and mother for her three daughters and even her young son who will one day be a Muslim husband. She explained that she even understood that there are many women who are okay with the notion that their husbands may very well exercise their option to take a second wife, so long as it is financially stable for his family. But she was clearly broken from this.

On our walk, she explained how her mother has maintained that she should not stay with this man, but she loves him with all of her heart, and I can understand such a resolve, despite the circumstance. One of the panelists tonight (jokingly?) stated that she is happily engaged to be married for the second time, one year away from age 50, and that she loves this man so much that should he EVER decide that there is another woman that he's interested in leaving her for, she's COMING WITH HIM! "It'll be you, her and ME!" she said... So, this precious queen explained to me that she knows there are women who will not mind their man taking another woman, but she was very resolute that she was in fact NOT that women. But here she was being tested by her husband, and had been on the verge of having to accept his desire as a part of her journey. "It really broke me," she said, and I could see the pain in her face as I listened.

What could I offer in such a circumstance? I've never been married, never been Muslim, never been a mother, and can barely find myself in a legitimate committed adult relationship! Surely, she was just turning to me for a listening ear. I made SURE not to express any semblance of judgement on my part, for I have no business remarking on the decisions between a man and a wife... or do I???

I took this sista, who I very well may never see again, in an embrace on 8th Avenue, and congratulated her on keeping her family together. I confirmed the value in her being a strong young decision maker (i later realized that being 32 I very well could have a 16 year old daughter as well, so she may not have been very much older than me, and certainly didn't look it) and encouraged her to make the decisions that were best for her and her children. I couldn't say too much about the main issue other than I was glad that her husband decided against taking the second wife. Though in reality, from what she shared, it sounds like he actually would have had he been financially able to make it work. Imagine. Of all the things she said, the fact that she is categorically against being a part of a polygamous marriage stood out the most to me. What would she explain to her daughters, and son, she pondered.

We didn't exchange information once we arrived at the train station. We embraced again and went our separate ways after a warm goodbye. But I wonder if I was supposed to get her contact information. Somehow remain in touch. For her to bare her soul to an anonymous sistafriend on a walk from an empowering sistahood symposium to the train says a lot. But we said goodbye.

One thing is for certain. I will never forget her. I will remember to keep her name in my prayers and I will think of her often. Because, her spirit is torn. She said, "I'm glad that my husband decided against taking the second wife, but I know that our relationship will never be the same." And that sounds like the comment of someone who knows she will remain there, committed to that relationship. And because she said that, I smiled as I reminded her that as every relationship has its horror and war stories, years from now, perhaps, she will look back and "remember" when things were really tough, yet bet be encouraged by how she was able to come through completely whole on the other side. Because as one of the panelists reminded us, "It's always darkest before the sunrise" and the seasons of life are ever-changing. In this case, I'd certainly like to think so.

♥ for Lady V.

To be or not to be.......childless...

2011-04-25T02:06:00.007-04:00

I went to an Easter dinner last night and noticed something very interesting about the ten or so individuals present at the dinner, in addition to myself: Everyone in attendance was childless.

I didn't realize this until late in the evening, well beyond midnight even, as the revelation wasn't something that had been specifically highlighted during the many group discussions over the evening. But I DID notice it, and ended up having a brief conversation with the host about this revelation as she cleared her kitchen and I sipped on some wine.

I find this interesting largely because of the range of demographics at the dinner spanning from mid thirties to mid-70's; white americans (various ages), black americans (various ages), and an italian man; a b&w interracial couple that's been together about 35 years (since they were 17 and 18 years old college freshmen); two educators, a couple of entertainers, two journalists, a producer, a carpenter, a bartender, an attorney, and a librarian/bathroom attendant. Of the other married couples, one in their 50's have been married since 2000 (11 years), and the other in their 70's celebrated their 29th anniversary on April 17th. Both of those wives, in separate conversations I had with them, said that they'd "married late" (in their mid-40s). The wife in her 70's said that she and her beau had not been "blessed with children" which leads me to believe that they at least considered and tried to become parents. The one in her 50's said that she married at 45, but had she married ten years earlier perhaps she would have had children with her husband. The interracial couple in their 50's that's been together since they were teenagers are entertainer and manager, and the wife/manager commented that they've focused on their career over the years and spend a lot of time abroad making things happen (they are world traveled), so having children never really played into the equation.

As for the single individuals in attendance, one is a couple of years older than me and also a professor. She's white american and has spent a number of years living in Italy working on her ph.d before moving to NYC. There was an italian producer there in his 50's as well who I overheard saying that he has never married, and though having "come close a couple of times," he never will. I was interested to have a conversation with him regarding this decision, but decided it was another topic for another day. Then there were the other two african american women, one who is 53 and one who seems like she's in her late 40s. Both single and perhaps either have been at one point or have never married, I can't tell (one may be lez, though she's quite asexual in my opinion).... one is a journalist the other an attorney, both seem to have had longstanding successful careers..... and then there was me: wildchild#1-- 32 years of age, no husband, no bf, no prospects of children, but lot's of adventure. I didn't speak to any of them regarding never having become parents...

When I was in the kitchen talking to the host she mentioned that of all of the people she's known over the years, she's noticed, especially now in her middle aged years, that it's her friends that never had children that seem to have the best marital relationships, in her humble opinion. She implied that though there are various reasons why people decide not to have children, it's the ones who are okay with this decision to remain childless that seem to have the less stress throughout their lives. What she was saying reminded me of an article in the New York Magazine last summer about the topic "I Love My Kids, But I Hate My Life" comparing and contrasting the quality of life of parents versus the childless, both married and single. Again, she did comment though, that had she met her lovely husband (which whom she "adores the little boy in him!" while she herself is a whimsy girl at heart who loves to twirl and dance about her spacious apartment--like me!!!) years before, she would have been inclined to procreate with him. It seems, even, that on the night that I met her a year and a half ago, she mentioned how she'd spent a good portion of her 30's being in love with the wrong man in a relationship that went nowhere other than to waste a portion of her childbearing years (...ok, she didn't say that verbatim but it was something like that), so I'm sure that played into her trajectory... and, naturally, I wonder if such a circumstance would play into my own chances of (not) becoming a mother....

I suppose this is most interesting as I am finding myself in the company of a lot of my peers who are becoming parents (two and three times over) as of late. One friend's wife told me flat out that she *felt sorry for me* for still having feelings for and entertaining a relationship that I've never quite ended because after five years it hasn't led to marriage; she feels I'll look up one day (probably unable to have children) and regret that I wasted so much time in such a fanciful, quixotic relationship (i'm too cool and beautiful for that, she says). Though I know she means well/doesn't mean any harm, I think her comments have been the most extreme regarding my singledom, and the ones I've found most annoying considering my relationship status is the last thing to feel sorry about. (Note to reading audience: PLEASE don't ever feel sorry for me regarding the status of the aforementioned!!!!) Meanwhile, I JUST turned 32.........and I swear, at this day and age, I still have another ten years to decide ANYTHING regarding having a child, should the volume on my biological clock ever begin to start ticking audibly....

So, at the end of the day, regardless of other people's timeframes, one thing last night showed me is that even if I never wind up having a child, life will be good, full of love and laughter. Besides there seems to be a never ending wealth of cousins, nieces, nephews, neighbors and godchildren whose lives I can be a part of should I ever feel the need to play with a warm cooing bundle for a few hours. And at this point, I couldn't be more okay with that if you paid me!

Vacillating

2011-04-05T02:41:00.003-04:00

in one moment i'm certain, in the next i'm fretting. i feel like there is a major decision to be made and time is the main factor. and whereas i can't say that it's theee main factor with a capital M, it is one of the stressors driving me to blinding indecision. and i am completely incapable of making this decision in the moment.

to leave nyc or not to leave; that is the question.

the pros and cons swim around my head every day and i just don't know what side of the equation to definitively land on.

there are justifiable reasons to stay, and there are potentially greater reasons to leave.

i haven't done the pro con list for fear that neither list will end.

plan for my life, i don't do those. i do visions, goals, i daydream. i happen into fortunate circumstances and run them until they don't run anymore. shortlived, they are, but fruitful.

nyc is my heart. my home. i am comfortable here. i trust it. three years short of a decade, and i feel as though i can spend my days here, so long as i have a passport and airfare. i am happy with my job with CUNY and am two years short of being eligible for free tuition (i think... i need to check on that.) technically if i remain working there and start work on a phd, it can be financially worthwhile, two birds with one stone. CUNY schools are well known and respected, and i definitely can find what i want to do within the system. i could study abroad and still have nyc be home base. i like that idea. actually, i love it. i like the idea of having my spot in bk, going to work during the 12 to 15 weeks, taking classes, and taking breaks to travel and study or teach abroad and coming back to my nyc home. writing at length, self publishing my works and my families' work as well. to stay here welcomes the potential of family business taking route and expanding.

staying in the states will also enable me to be able to visit my parents and family whenever i need or want to, and that is definitely a point of value. if i remain and continue to share rent, then there are more opportunities for me to do other things with my money, like travel or eat out or shop or whatever. and no, it's not LIVING abroad, it still provides the opportunity to go somewhere for a little while and come back. there's always the OPPORTUNITY in NYC, that is the truth. people are constantly reinventing themselves here. there's still so much i haven't done in the seven years i've been here. so, that's how i feel about nyc. there is an onion layer to be peeled with each year that i'm here, and the bulb is still far beneath the layers for me.

but there is the point of a love life or lack there of. whereas i would not plan to go abroad to find love -- at all -- i know for a fact that the past seven years has not panned out in the relationship area. i have met -- who i consider to be-- the love of my life and am convinced that should we ever end up in holy matrimony i would be happy to entertain life where ever he and i should choose to exist, because quite simply, he's my favorite person in this life. happy days or funky days, silly mood or crappy mood, he does it for me. but the reality is that he does not say that i'm the love of his life, and therefore has no current plan find us in holy matrimony. even with this divergent levels of desire, we remain confidantes and companions (he is harry to my sally in the most authentic of ways). i don't know that i'm waiting for anything from him or expecting anything, i only know what i see and experience "now" with him. i see him in front of me each week making me smile and enjoying my company, listening to me rant and complain. he sees my ugly and voices reason (and i do the same of/for him). i fear that i will never tire of his presence, and that i'll look up one day an old lady with an old friend and no husband to call my own. on the contrary, i also fear that should we actually go our separate ways --for good and forever-- the heartbreak would be debilitating. in an unwavering way that has been true since day one and rings true today in year five, he makes me happy in a way no other person has before (i can't say "and never will" because i don't know what "will be", but i can say that my flame is consistent in a way that keeps me from being interested in any one guy for much longer than a couple of months. yet annually, he's the one for me.) ALL that to say, if i stay in nyc, i have this matter of love without claim or destination to contend with. but in each moment we spend together, i am content and want for nothing. so moment to moment, i live.

so, to leave all of that.... the job that's just a job, nothing passionate, but surely enjoyable. the love of my life who is committed to being my friend. the comfort of family and potential to grow in new ways collectively. my adopted city and home and all the adventure there. to leave it all for the potential of an adventure on the world stage i'd always thought i'd already have by now: to live abroad, THAT may really be worth it. to live abroad means a change in trajectory. it means capitalizing on the unknown. Potential is the word of the day. If you can get a visa.. if you can get a job... if you can get affordable housing... if you can gain a support system, then living abroad can end up being an experience that people dream about. That I've dreamt about. That I daydream about. Those are the only points I have on my live abroad side. I've always wanted to do it. IF i can figure out where to go (I keep thinking London, but the reality is, it's sooo expensive and as a student you can only work 11 hrs a week, which is not a lot of money) i can decide on if i will apply to study there. then there's the issue of funding. I don't want another cent of student loans. ...And then whose to say that I want to stay there for the length of time it takes to get a phd. I don't think I want to live in Europe a long time, just long enough to see some places and do some things. People keep saying that if I go, I'll probably end up marrying a EuroAfrican fellow there and staying. It's not what I'm looking for, but I would not be surprised. I neither welcome nor shun the idea. I figure if I can get another advanced degree and gain some adventure in the process then, yay! anything else in the way of life is a bonus.

But again, if we're weighing the options, the option to stay outweighs the option to go. I literally can't make a decision. So I'm going to [continue to] pray about it. God knows what I should do more than anyone. He gave me the desire to see the world. He gave me the intellect to study and research which will aid in an advanced degree. He is fully aware of my love for all things NYC as well as the love for the one man that may last until my final breath. He knows that i love seeing my family often. He knows that i have a number of goals outside of academia that i'm still managing to achieve. And he knows that I don't like regular jobs that involve customer service and that other kind of stuff that you have to do when you don't have many options for income. If i go abroad i can look at having to do any number of those jobs i've either avoided or quit years ago. and that's not appealing.... unless it's in a place where i'm gaining a language skill.

So Lord, what do I do.

Should I stay or should I go?

What about my goals?

What about my heart?

What about my home? Where am I going to live???

Even if I don't figure out where I should go, how to reach my goals, and whether or not i remain single and unattached with a sometime platonic friendboy for the next 8 years, I still have to move out of my apartment in 6 months.

so. because of all of this. i'm fretting just a bit.

So I will be still and know that he is God, and expect the moment when he says MOVE! cause HE answers prayers.

"without a shadow of a doubt (the shadows of the past and the doubts of the future)"

2011-04-02T23:38:00.003-04:00

................how is it that five years later, THIS is still a very accurate account of where I am in my life? (sigh.)

(regardless, i just don't know what to think anymore.)

Today's NIGHTMARE (I still can't believe happened!)

2011-03-29T16:03:00.007-04:00

I went by the post office this morning to purchase and send a money order, and in filling out the money order on one side of the counter and giving it back to the cashier on the other side, I inadvertently left my wallet sitting on the counter (rushing!)... So, of course, not noticing, I took the next ferry and decided that I'd take a cab to campus so that I could arrive a bit earlier than the shuttle bus would have gotten me there. It wasn't until we approached building 1P in the middle of campus that I realized my wallet was missing, and of course the cab driver assumed I was trying to pull a fast one on her. (Strangely enough, during the ride I'd been reflecting on how I don't see very many West African women cab drivers, and wondering what her day to day experience must consist of, but I never actually said anything to her until we reached the campus and I realized my wallet was gone.)

We verbally went back and forth, me panicking that I'd lost EVERYTHING and her trying to call her dispatcher, whom she could not reach, to find out the procedure. I was explaining (in the most irrational way, I must admit!) that this was an emergency because I was just realizing that I'd lost my wallet and there was nothing I could do to pay the fare at the moment, but that it was of the utmost importance that I get out right then, a point for which she had little regard. She had the doors locked and was driving away from where I needed to get out. I asked over and over again for a card to the cab company so I could bring/send the payment later while demanding she let me out, but she would not oblige saying that she doesn't know me, she hears this all the time, and asking "what do you want me to do about this wallet that's missing?? You have to PAY!" I was like, "Sis, PLEASE, you got to help me, I need to get out! Give me a card anything but I have to get out right now, my wallet is gone! I need to get to the office! I don't know what to do! Let me OUT!!!"

When she threatened to drive me back to the ferry terminal I got the door open (from sticking my arm out of the window and pulling the lever from the outside) at a stop sign on the campus and jumped out of the cab! Before slamming the door shut I kept screaming back and forth to her for a card, but she couldn't believe I got the door open and was getting out, so she refused to give me anything that would indicate where the money would need to go later. I started walking across the campus, damn near having a panic attack, heart pumping way tooo hard, sweating and breathing hard, looking at the clock and realizing it was close to class time (and THIS JUST SO HAPPENED TO BE THE DAY my class was going to be EVALUATED by the chair of the English Dept!)

As I was trying my darnedest to get closer to the building where the Eng dept is, security stopped to detain me in the middle of campus and address the complaint the cabbie made against me, threatening to arrest me (can they do that?) if I continued to walk over to the English office and expressing that I could lose my job if I was arrested. I went back and forth with him! "I'm a professor here!!! (even though I look like a student!), I'm LATE to a class that begins in five minutes!! I'm being EVALUATED TODAY!!! My wallet is missing in Manhattan! The cabbie would not give me any info on where to send the money!!! I have to go to the English office and let the chair know!! I need to get to my class!!! I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!" Just boiling over with emotions and panic and uncertainty......

ALL OF THIS was wayyyyyy too much in that moment: the trifecta of unfortunate circumstance (losing my wallet, jumping cab and being threatened to be arrested for "theft of service", and missing my critical evaluation class), so when I called the English office to explain to the secretary what was going on, the tears, snot and incoherent blubbering began! (1000x times more embarrassing than you could ever imagine!)

Security was like "Miss.... Professor...... calm done! PLEASE!!!" But, once I start crying, there's no calming down! (I'm blaming pms hormones run amok in combination with being a certified walking nerve ending that feels every emotion more intensely than one person should ever have to!) So, I didn't calm down. I stayed on the phone and kept trying to explain to the secretary what was going on.... I felt like an irresponsible loser idiot and couldn't figure out for the life of me how all of this escalated into the frenzied misfortune it seemed to be. I'd prepared my lesson for evaluation class days ago and put the finishing touches on my presentation package last night (a step that isn't even necessary, I just like to include it.) I'd woken up 30 minutes early and left before I usually leave my house to reach Staten Island with enough time to get my mind right and be ready for a vibrant class session. Even with leaving early, the train's inconsistent schedule got me to the ferry two minutes two late, and I missed the boat that would have gotten me to campus 40 mins early. THAT'S when I decided to go to the post office and the caper began....... That was definitely fuel to the emotional meltdown I was experiencing: How do you prepare for things to come out perfectly and they just disintegrate before your very eyes??? How do you find yourself in need of immediate help and be met with adverse action against you? In the middle of my tears, I had the very present of mind to pray a very simple prayer: Lord HELP ME! Please!! I need your help! Please, send someone to help me! I don't know what to do....

And He did just that. (Which is why the song "I Love the Lord, He Heard My Cry" has been resonating through my being since the ordeal took place....)

As events would continue to unfold, everyone at the college ended up being most gracious in helping me resolve the problem:

First, once the secretary understood what the problem was she sent over $40 to cover any problems when I only needed $16 to cover the fare. (They gave the driver $20 and I sent the other $20 back to her.)

Next, the security office tracked down my wallet at the post office, and notified them that I would be coming back to get it within the hour.

Once the co-chair heard what was going on, she came directly to the security office to lend her support and make sure I was okay. She said that it was no problem to cancel my class today and reschedule the visit, and that she totally understood as she loses things all the time...

And then there was George, the director of Security, who was the biggest angel of mercy for me. He took a vested interest in calming me down ("Wipe your tears, pretty girl!") with anecdotes about his wife losing house keys all the time for all the years they've been married, offered to drive me back to the ferry to go back over and get my wallet, gave me tips on what to do if I ever find myself in that kind of situation again (at least on campus), and even handed me a $5 bill for coffee ("Here, kid, get yourself some coffee and enjoy the rest of your day; life is too short to sweat the small stuff"). His kindness and compassion is akin to a favorite uncle, and I'm just extremely grateful to know this is the community of individuals I work with from week to week.

Once George dropped me off at the terminal, I went over to the cab dispatcher just to explain that as a person who takes a cab from that terminal to campus at least once every couple of weeks, I would never try to skip out on a fare. He was understanding and assured that everything was fine and we shook hands, but not before he explained the policy for not paying fare (which is for the driver to confiscate the cell phone as collateral and bring it to him until the fare is paid.... that's wild). And by the time the boat arrived, I was calm and collected, though extremely exhausted, physically and mentally.

I returned to the post office in lower Manhattan where my wallet was in the proper care of the sweetest post office attendant I've ever met (another angel). She assured me that everything was in there (which it was once I checked!), and even said that she tried to figure out a way to reach me but didn't see a contact # on my checks...) I thanked her, and it seems people who were standing in line were inspired by the small bit of details they were able to glean from our conversation.

When I think about the character of the people who helped me and the way that the circumstance was resolved, it reminded me of how, perhaps, things are within smaller towns, rather the BIG city. NYC has a rap for being a cold hard jungle, but it just proves to me that New Yorkers have hearts of gold when it comes down to helping someone who is in need.

So.....I still don't know how all of this happened... but I know that God's hand was on the outcome.

As soon as I got home, I had a small bite to eat and fell right to sleep..... because when reality is a nightmare, sometimes a sweet dream in a comfy bed is the antidote of choice.

a lovely comment someone sent me today!

2011-03-22T18:59:00.002-04:00

score:

"I really like your blog and I really appreciate the excellent quality content you are posting here for free for your online readers. thanks."

bonus:

i have (seemingly regular) "online readers"!!!!

yay! .... eBook, on the way!

daydreaming of life aboard...

2011-03-17T18:00:00.002-04:00

....as recently as a few months from now, since i have to give up my apt anyway.

where there's a will.....

Productive Leisure.

2011-03-17T03:42:00.002-04:00

lol.... did I know THIS about SLC when I was attending????

A major component of the College's early curriculum was "productive leisure," wherein students were required to work for eight hours weekly in such fields as modeling, shorthand, typewriting, applying makeup, and gardening.

This may have something to with with my current goal of daily "productive leisure"! Only, my objectives don't include the activities listed above.

Sociolinguistics is...

2011-03-17T03:13:00.002-04:00

...the effects of society on a language.

i'm intrigued because for every day that i go into my classroom to help revolutionize the English language skills (as it pertains to writing) of my students, i am constantly remarking on the *negative* effects of society impacting my students' ability to excel in the language on a very basic level.

dare i say that i am interested in the further study of sociolinguistics?

hmmm.

BRILLIANT IDEA!

2011-03-15T23:23:00.003-04:00

(well I think so anyway!)

So, in my quest to get my writing students to increase their English grammar and writing skills as quickly as possible, I have decided that they will begin hand copying excerpts from interesting, well-written texts that indicate proper spelling, grammar, and sentence mechanics. They will be required to copy the text in its entirety in their best penmanship, making sure to write it verbatim. This will be given as homework, and I will encourage them to then read the passage aloud once they've written it, so that they will get a sense of what they've written in relation to how it was typed. I'm anticipating that it will A) allow them to pay more attention to grammar and mechanics, B) help them with reading comprehension by processing the text through writing it, and C) expose them even more to academic writing, especially since most of the reading we do is from the NYT.

I got the inspiration for this exercise from Malcolm X's "Coming to an Awareness of Language" where he explains the process by which he became a world class writer and orator. Because of this, my classes first task at hand copying "example texts" will be from this very essay:

It was because of my letters that I happened to stumble upon starting to acquire some kind of a homemade education. I became increasingly frustrated at not being able to express what I wanted to convey in letters that I wrote. In the street, I had been the most articulate hustler out there—I had commanded attention when I said something. But now, trying to write simple English, I not only wasn't articulate, I wasn't even functional. How would I sound writing in slang, the way I would say it, something such as, "Look, daddy, let me pull your coat about a cat, Elijah Muhammad—"

Many who today hear me somewhere in person, or on television, or those who read something I've said, will think I went to school far beyond the eighth grade. This impression is due entirely to my prison studies.

I saw that the best thing I could do was get hold of a dictionary— to study, to learn some words. I was lucky enough to reason also that I should try to improve my penmanship. It was sad. I couldn't even write in a straight line. It was both ideas together that moved me to request a dictionary along with some tablets and pencils from the Norfolk Prison Colony school.

I spent two days just riming uncertainly through the dictionary's pages. I'd never realized so many words existed! I didn't know which words I needed to learn. Finally, just to start some kind of action, I began copying.

In my slow, painstaking, ragged handwriting, I copied into my tablet everything printed on that first page, down to the punctuation marks.

I believe it took me a day. Then, aloud, I read back, to myself, everything I'd written on the tablet. Over and over, aloud, to myself, I read my own handwriting.

I woke up the next morning, thinking about those words—immensely proud to realize that not only had I written so much at one time, but I'd written words that I never knew were in the world. Moreover, with a little effort, I also could remember what many of these words meant. I reviewed the words whose meanings I didn't remember. Funny thing, from the dictionary first page right now, that "aardvark" springs to my mind. The dictionary had a picture of it, a long-tailed, long-eared, burrowing African mammal, which lives off termites caught by sticking out its tongue as an anteater does for ants.

I was so fascinated that I went on—I copied the dictionary's next page. And the same experience came when I studied that. With every succeeding page, I also learned of people and places and events from history. Actually the dictionary is like a miniature encyclopedia. Finally the dictionary's A section had filled a whole tablet —and I went on into the B's. That was the way I started copying what eventually became the entire dictionary. It went a lot faster after so much practice helped me to pick up handwriting speed. Between what I wrote in my tablet, and writing letters, during the rest of my time in prison I would guess I wrote a million words.

I suppose it was inevitable that as my word-base broadened, I could for the first time pick up a book and read and now begin to understand what the book was saying. Anyone who has read a great deal can imagine the new world that opened. Let me tell you something: from then until I left that prison, in every free moment I had, if I was not reading in the library, I was reading on my bunk. You couldn't have gotten me out of books with a wedge. Between Mr. Muhammad's teachings, my correspondence, my visitors... and my reading of books, months passed without my even thinking about being imprisoned. In fact, up to then, I never had been so truly free in my life.

SO! I'm excited to see if they'll do it and to what degree this will affect their writing. I'm making it mandatory and telling them if they miss one assignment they will have to wait until June to test instead of the one coming up during the 2nd week of April. That will get them because they are REALLLLY jonesin' to take the test and get out of my class! I anticipate that it this will also help to train their eyes to know what to look for while proofreading.

So, wish us all luck!!!!! If this turns out to be a slam dunk, I'm about to doing this for the rest of my time as a writing professor!

a bit of delirium

2011-03-13T04:49:00.003-04:00

@450am.

too tired to sleep. to sleepy to get up.

so, in limbo, i'm getting my parliament on.

thanks to pilgrim for hipping me to this.

in an unrelated thought, i really think i was born 20yrs after i should've been.

putting things into perspective

2011-03-11T02:07:00.002-05:00

on a sunny day in rural japan an 8.something has hit, with a tsunami swelling onto the shore where farms and homes are. people don't even know what's on the way.

cnn is calling it historic. telling people who may not have access to hear them, that they need to move and need to move quickly.

so. i have to move in six months. i have time to prepare, pack my stuff, and move.

what am i complaining about?

curveball

2011-03-11T01:43:00.002-05:00

where am i supposed to go now? with a letter to vacate the apartment by sept (which has been extended to oct), i'm completely spinning and feeling the same anxiety i felt back when i received the same type of letter when i lived in harlem.

only, the anxiety is not coming from the whole having to move. i mean, granted, i do HATE moving, but i can and will hire movers to make it easier. and now that i know i have six months, i can technically start going through things to get rid of that can make packing easier when it's finally time. and that's if i ACTUALLY take the opportunity to do so. procrastinator that i can, i rarely do things far in advance.

but it's the fact that my life and personal identity is so wrapped up in living on stuyvesant avenue. okay, maybe not my IDENTITY per se, but in a lot of ways i feel like this block is a part of the fabric of who i am. i love it here. i feel like my neighbors are family. the park across the street is a part of my enchanted well being. movies and music in the summer time.

so, i'm not looking forward to leaving. there's a house next door that's vacant. it has been for a very long time, years. about two... i want to move in there, but i have no way to know what's going on. i'll email the real estate agent and see if he says anything, but last time he was very tight lipped about the property and what was happening. as of now, i feel like that is my only bet in being able to stay here.

i don't think it's sucken in quite yet, that i'll have to move. it may not sink in until i find another apartment that i feel like can provide the same amount of magic.

maybe it's time to leave nyc altogether. i was saying that i wanted to move to london. and the only reason i decided against it was because i love my apartment in bk. but if the apt is giving me up, and, as it seems, a lot of other things are giving me up too, maybe it really IS time to go.....

but as of now, i will stay in nyc, at least through the summer. because summers in nyc are the best. maybe by then i will have some insight on where to go: stay in stuyvesent heights, leave bedstuy for crown heights or ft. green. move closer to one of the campuses... or finally move abroad.

....................................sigh.

in any regards, this sux. ;(

I finally commented on someone's post

2011-03-07T01:54:00.003-05:00

of that Why You Aren't Married Article...

It ended up being an essay of sorts:

Back around Valentine's Day, everybody, their sister and their husband posted this article and there seemed to be a lot of support of it. While I found her article well written (I'm actually interested in reading her memoir), I can't say that I, or a number of my single friends, fall into these categories she characterizes. I can definitively say that I'm: Not a bitch, not a slut, not selfish in relationships, have an extremely positive self-worth, and am especially not a shallow liar! I love the shock value, in your face, tell it like it is way the author presents her arguments, HOWEVER, I'd like to counter that a number of women that often "land the husband" are, in fact, bitchy, are shallow, have lying tendencies, can be selfish, and just so happen to know how to seal the deal with THAT particular guy they're marrying. (Just like the author can make general over sweeping commentary on women, so can I!) If I did a case study on the people that I personally know across the country who are between the ages of 28 and 48, and just for fun let's say they're on their first marriage, from the outside looking in, they are ALL dealing with a number of the very issues the author underscores as reasons why middle age women remain single. My parents are marital counselors so I've heard stories ranging from self worth to personality issues amongst spouses (points 1 & 6); I have friends that deal with the infidelity of a spouse and choose to stay in the marriage (points 3, 4 &5); I know people who remain married despite the lack of intimacy and connection because it's a good arrangement (points 2 & 5); I see people who get married in one year and divorced four years later and get REmarried a year after that (which can be attributed to any of these points). I say all of this to support why I don't buy into what she is saying because I don't believe these are THEE REASONS why a large percentage of women in their 30s - 50s remain unmarried. Good writers can convince people of anything and perpetuate notions that aren't entirely valid.

Last week there was an interesting response to the first article, also on HuffPost, here's the link:http://www.huffingtonpost.com/brienne-walsh/an-open-letter-to-the-wom_b_829378.html It may not have been as well written, but I appreciate it moreso because the points of the second article touch on a number of issues that many writers of Women's relationship columns don't highlight. Some women remain single because they choose to believe that with what a good majority of people settle for in marriage, they'd prefer the alternative (until they connect with a person in which they can exist in the most fulfilling way). Also, no one really thinks of the fairytale when it comes to marriage anymore (despite what people like to say). If you speak to a majority of individuals, men AND women, they're quick to make negative remarks about the marriage/commitment experience, even if they're joking. We are very cynical as a society/generation regarding life long marriage, even though we love romantic comedy movies. The second article also points out being the intelligent, attractive, down to earth chick, and NOT being the girl that was chosen (as the girlfriend, got the proposal, et al.), the shallow girl did. Go figure.

This is my favorite quote of the second article:
"...even though I know that marriage isn't a fairy tale, I'd still like to actually be madly in love with the person I'm going to do all of this sacrificing and fighting and laughing and struggling with. I've been in love before, with men who were arguably (and endearingly) more troll than Prince Charming, and I know it can happen again."

I'm not writing a response as a woman looking for a husband right now (I really enjoy being a free bird!) or bitter about the lack of commitment I've experienced in recent years (being a "it's better to love and lost" theorist), but as a woman thinking rationally about the situation and choosing to acknowledge that what the first author writes does not illustrate my experience. So, as Public Enemy said: Don't believe the HYPE!

heavy heart.

2011-03-01T02:38:00.003-05:00

i learned tonight

that another bright, charismatic, talented and enchanting life force has been taken all too soon. and by too soon i mean sooner than what anyone that encountered him would have ever imagined. the kind of person you'd expect to live to be a hundred and five, and have great great grandchildren to whom he gives enchanting tale after tale of all the wonderful things he did in his life and people he knew and helped and challenged and changed and loved. and now people are left broken..

one of which is a friend who loved this person dearly.

and now she's voyaging on a month long trip out side of the country

to honor the wanderlust of the love they shared.

and i pray she recovers

from losing the love of her life

from making the kind of connection you only see in the movies

or read about in the books

or see others with and hope you will experience.

i'm praying for her*

that she rises from the ashes of grief.

because,

you just never understand why these things happen

the way they do.

*because, i know what it FEELS like to nurture a love for a particular individual (who just blows your mind in every way) in hopes that that nurtured love and friendship will turn into a lifelong exercise of connection. And I can't imagine it being gone in an instance by the separation of death. Not right now. Not ever... separation by non-commitment, i can handle. separation by spirit leaving body, *no words*

In other words...I'm HUNGRY!

2011-02-26T16:25:00.002-05:00

Shakespearean sized hunger:

Hungrage......!

Why doth thou afflict

me when faithfully there is

so little food prepared

in mine kitchen......?

Make haste!

and flee my belly,

I pray,

with a sandwich

and some tea!

Twelve hour adventure in Paris!!!

2011-02-21T00:32:00.003-05:00

So, after dancing all night at with the Brits and the Brazilians, Juju and I showered, changed, and was on our way to the St. Pancras station at King's Cross to catch the Eurostar to Paris early Saturday morning. What were we thinking????!!!!!

I thought I'd sleep on the train, but I was too excited. Ju, on the other hand, was sleep shortly after we'd made it out of London. As the ticket agent had explained, the countryside was a lovely scenic backdrop to our journey to Paris Gare du Nord. I can't front, I was a bit nervous considering I speak very little to no French. I was feeling inadequate and wondering why it is that I've yet to master more than English and I'm almost 32. And, I mean, I can get along in Spanish, French, not so much..... It was interesting that with the very few phrases that I actually know in French, I'd say them and then Spanish would come rushing to my mind! "Bonjour, como se llama 'telephone??' Es 'telefonique' no?" Ummm, no! "Ahhh monsieur, a que hora es, s'il vous plait?" Not, quite. "Madamoiselle, por favor, un bolsa para mis cosas??" NO! I am determined to learn French though, so 2011 will have to be the year I begin a concentrated effort. Even now I'm looking up classes at 92y since they seem to offer them every few weeks... but it looks like their most recent classes began on 2/1.. oh well.

So, once we arrived in gay Paree, we figured out how to make it around on Le Metro! First we stopped for our first official Parisian croissant and expresso, before heading to Le Tour Eiffel! I'll spare you the details of how spectacular the Eiffel Tower was and recount our funniest moment of the trip! So, there were all of these Senegalese vendors on the road leading to the base of the Tower. While Julia was looking to purchase a lighter from one, we noticed a wave of people starting to run in our general direction! A stampede of sorts, and it was quite scary and comical all in the same breath. Mainly because Julia noticed the stampede and started running with them, whereas I more calmly surveyed the area and determined that a) only the African vendors were running, and b) none of the other tourists or Europeans looked even remotely concerned. It was quite amusing to realize that there was one Parisian police officer on a bicycle rolling around trying to confiscate their loot! ONE officer on a bike! And ten, twenty, thirty five vendors (and Julia!) were running like crazy, jumping over gates trying to get away!! She ran for about a yard or two, then stopped to see that I was not running so she should probably stop! MAN did we crack up!!! For the rest of our lives, we will be crackin up over that incident!!!

So, once we finally got ready to leave the Eiffel Tower area we made our way past the Trocadero, where we added our names in dry board marker to the vandalized stone (I was sooo nervous!!) and passed by our first vendor to fall in love with one of us, Aziz! He was from Morocco and when I bought the little purse from him, he asked for a hug and a kiss, so I humbly obliged! He was very "ooo-lala my belle!", a very charming fellow! Then we made our way over to the Avenue des Champs-Élysées which is one of the most famous streets in the world! When we got off the metro, we walked over to the Les Invalides, which was completely and utterly ornate and beautiful! Walking along the river Seine, we could barely contain our excitement! This is where we crossed paths with our next Parisian who fell madly in love with Julia, Fabrice the roasted chestnut vendor. He also was a charming fellow, and had a lot of interesting conversation for us to show how nice the Parisians are. He explained that he loved jazz music, as opposed to hip-hop, and proposed to Julia just before I bought a package of war, tasty chestnuts!

From there, we made our way to the Lourve, which was very majestic, indeed! We didn't have enough time to go in, but we mainly stood silent taking the scene in at a misty sundown in Paris listening a man play a haunting flute melody. I cannot wait to go back!

After spending a serene time at the Lourve, we continued forging through the street of Paree, and ended up in a Brazilian peace rally where there were drummers and dancers all in white coats and attire chanting for some kind of civil change. I wish I'd been able to understand what they were saying, but it was quite the site!!! We took that in for about twenty minutes or so, then found a souvenir shop to by things for family and friends...

After a bit of shopping, it was just after sundown, so we thought we'd make our way to Chateau Rouge, the little Africa of Paris. Before we arrived, we were in le metro and passed a young man singing Ordinary People by John Legend, so I decided to stop and sing with him!! It was great! Folks came by and stopped and put money in his little tip jar. And after Ordinary People we sang So High, also by John Legend... That was quite entertaining, and I actually made a point to video record all of the music I heard underground in Le Metro. I keep saying it, but it was all quite enchanting!

Once we arrived at Chateau Rouge, we found a guy from Senegal I believe to show us to a little hole in the wall restaurant where we could eat. Of course he spoke no English, nor did the proprietor, but we were able to order. And she was nice enough to find a guy in the restaurant who did speak English, in case we needed to ask for something. That was definitely the greatest representation of Poisson Fritte we could have ever had! A man from Zaire who spoke no English made his way over to our table, and insisted on engaging me in conversation, the little conversation that we could possibly have. It consisted of a lot of "how are you"s and "you are beautiful"s and "thank yous" etc. He asked for my number, I kindly declined. As kindly as I could in French'glish. However, inside of that little hole in the wall spot was the most entertainment one could find on a Saturday night! It was sort of juke joint, sort of hood spot, very African! The characters in there!!! One guy had on a braided outfit (that's the best way I can describe it) and was standing up making some kind of monologue, but it seems no one was really listening to him. Julia was calling him the Dave Chappelle of Paris. Then some other cats came in dressed just as wack....

We had no idea what the total was but left her what we thought would cover the cost of dinner plus a nice tip... Then with the little energy we had, was able to find our way back to Nord, two stops away. We definitely slept on the way back, and grabbed a taxi from St. Pancrass back to Ben's flat.

Overall, we made a whirlwind of an appearance to the Paris scene! I must return soon and really DO it. But, that was a wonderful introduction....... :D C'est la vie! And what a wonderful life it is!

The Brazilians of London

2011-02-16T23:52:00.003-05:00

So apparently, no matter where in the world I am, inside or out of the country, I will manage to stay awake until 4, 5 and 6am before eventually drifting off to sleep. What's up with that?

Well, while in the UK, it was more of the same for a couple of reasons, though. They are five hours ahead of NYC and eight ahead of LA, so we just weren't in the frame of mind to sleep during the night hours once we arrived. We'd stayed up most of Wed night and slept til the last minute on Thursday (before getting out to catch a cab to the wrong part of town and missing my university meeting) and then slept until afternoon on Friday before leisurely waking to get ready for our evening out. Since my cousin had the dope CD turntables in the living room, we turned up ATLiens for the hundredth time, raised the shades to the somewhat warehouse style windows in the flat, and enjoyed lounging around on holiday without a care in the world! We decided once and for all to purchase our Eurostar tickets to Paris for Saturday morning, and reached out to the homie, Lion, about Friday night having no idea the good time that was awaiting when we met up with him.

So, apparently a few of Lion's former co-workers were going to be gathering at this Brazilian restaurant called Guanabara for the birthday hang of a friend, and he'd already told us that the afterwork affair would turn into a full out party by 9p, so dress accordingly! For me that meant an off the shoulder pink and black top, black leather skirt, and black & pink tights with flat boots. Even if I would get hot from the tights, I could cool off from the off the shoulder top! Julia, on the other hand, decided that this meant brand new high heel boots that she started complaining about just once block from the apartment! I questioned whether or not she was going to be able to handle them all night, but she insisted that she was good! And they were hot!! But moreso the kind of boots you decide to wear when a date is coming to pick you up, drop you off, and you will only be walking from the car to the booth, and back! Definitely not on public trans, and definitely not to dance all night. BUT she was cute!

We arrived at Guanabara around 7p and it was already in full swing! The spot is designed in the round so that the tables and bars surround the circular dance floor, with a stage completing the circle. It was packed already but we found Lion's party near the stage. In the middle of the dance floor was a conga player jamming with the dj, and this old Brazilian cat dancing so much he was sweating through his clothes! Especially in the crotch and back area! Ewwww!!! Once they finished their entertaining hour, the dancing party began, followed by a live band playing Samba versions of Crazy and I Feel Good! I've NEVER heard anything like that! The mashup of rhythm with popular tunes made the songs brand new for me!!

BUT before the party even got good and started, there was a Carnaval performance by a guy and girl dancer. The guy had sequins all over his outfit, the girl, scantily clad in feathers and g-string! They were both working those hips and heels to the drums, and before I knew it, I was pulled out from the audience to join them in the middle! I actually had been video taping them, which is probably why the guy dancer singled me out, but I was READY!!! Once I was out in the middle, they showed me and another woman what to do, and I went for it!!! Shake it to the right! Shake it to the left! Shake it to the one that you love the best! LOL! Then I ended with a classic ol'school Tina Turner move... just because! THAT was the best! EVER!

I spent a good majority, if not the whole evening dancing with Lion, his boy Alphe, and other folks from the party! Between the caipirinhas (the BEST I've ever had in my life), the food and the good company of new friends, I found myself dancing on the tables by the end of the night!!! Whereas, Juju sat back and enjoyed watching all the excitement from the comfort of the sideline, having all kinds of interesting conversations with crazy Brits, I wore myself out getting my groove on! I actually was a bit tired and decided to lay low from dancing with the pool of guys I had to choose from, but kept my funky two step going. I didn't know where Ju had gone off to, but noticed an attractive guy with dreads off to the side within striking distance, also getting a funky two step on... So I decided to grab him and continue with my partying for the night!

Turns out this cat, J-Bueno (da Silva) from the southern part of Brasil, was the best dancer in the club, and is actually sometimes employed by them to dance during the carnval and capoeira shows. Dancing with him was probably the most fun I had all weekend. I love it when I find a male dancing partner who can show me a thing or two when it comes to moving to the rhythm. I can tell he'd studied, and he was showing me the official samba moves that I could barely do correctly! But dancing hand in hand, it was so enchanting as he spun me around and around! I've got to visit Brasil! And it turns out that not only was he a handsome and talented dancer, but I found out at dinner on Sunday evening (!!!) that he was a really intelligent and learned brotha, so that was cool.

Ju found other forms of adventure that included turning down an Indian businessman that tried to proposition her for the night! Yes.... he actually offered her £7,000 (roughly, $12,980) to *ahem* spend the evening with her... CRAZY! She turned him down in a way that was way more kinder (and less amusing) than I would have. Basically letting him know that a) she was not a prostitute, and b) she wasn't otherwise interested in him at all, the guy kept trying to impress upon her that it could be a really good deal for a woman on holiday in Europe. Yeah, NO! I was dancing the whole time this was going on, so I didn't get a chance to watch the whole incident unfold in real time.... MAN! I wish I'd been over there though!!! Is he CRAZY!

Meanwhile, we shut the party down... and it was rainy and late by the time it we needed to get home, so J-Bueno escorted us home in a taxi before making his way back to his own place. We exchanged info and, like I mentioned, got a chance to hang out two days later for a bit....

And Juju and I went upstairs to recount the night, shower, change, and be on our way to Paris within a few hours...!!!

And on Thursday night... (thank God for the porto-LOO!)

2011-02-14T18:30:00.008-05:00

First, on the tube ride to Portobello Road where Mau Mau is located, I was fortunate enough to find a seat in front of two of London's talented little primadonnas, Fanny & Lulu. Though there was adequate seating, they chose to stand and dance about the train, their mother/aunt/authoritative figure doing little to calm down their hyperactivity during the rush hour commute. Swinging themselves around the pole one at a time, it was quite humorous hearing little blond ten year old brits singing, "My milkshake brings Fanny to the yah'd..." while the other chimed in high pitched voice, "MY milkshake brings Lulu to the yah'd...." as they sache'd around in circles.

Meanwhile, on the way back from being out that night....

So one thing that I reallly do not care for is London's tube shutting down at midnight, and even earlier on Sunday.... We learned on Thursday night what problems this poses when we left Mau Mau once the festivities were done and were made to get off the train before reaching our Old Street destination off the Northern Line.

I can't remember which stop we had to get off at, but when we reached the platform we were greeted by a couple of lost Irishmen that were, without a doubt, the life of whatever party they'd just come from! I can't imagine how the conversation between us started! BUT IT DID!

The bald one (to me): "You're not from here, are ya? Are ya Irish?"

Me: "Yeah! I am!! Are you???"

Him: "YES!!!! Ehhh, she's IRISH!!!!"

Hysterical laughter ensues between him and his friend, Julia and myself... all clowning around on the platform, trying to figure out where the exit is, and where we were going next... "So where's the afterparty???" they asked! Meanwhile, we were more concerned with trying to find our way back to Old Street, so unfortunately, the tube station was going to be the extent of our partying with these bloaks! We chit chat and laughed some more, inquiring about what had brought them to London. The one in the hat works for a music distribution company, or something of the sort, and was in town for a conference... The bald one, his WILD friend!

So, after the entertaining Irishmen, we made our way out toward the bus stop where it was freezing cold. We weren't too sure how to reach the flat via bus, but a helpful Canadian was there to give us specific directions on which bus to take, etc. The only problem now was waiting for said bus to arrive. Well, to make matters worse, I was beginning to realize the degree to which I needed to use the LOO! lol... I had to go again even though I went before we left the bar (we were treated to a few tasty drinks over the course of the evening), but Ju was encouraging me to hold it. I thought, "Maybe we should take a taxi.." but the Canadian girl insisted the bus was on its way. And it was. But I had no idea whether or not I was going to be able to hold it. I stood on the bus stop cold and concerned that I would not, in fact, make it!

We finally got on the bus, but I was at the brink of decidedly having an "accident." Now the decision was, was the accident going to happen on the bus, or on the street. Julia tried to divert my attention with amusing gibberjabber, but it wasn't working. I pressed the button to get off and pleaded with the Lord to keep me from urinating on the street, even though EVERY establishment was closed and we had no idea how close to the flat we were.

Walking down about a block or two, I decided THIS was going to be the moment I learn what it is to relieve oneself in public after a night out! What the hey... we're in another country, been out carrying on with good people... IF ever there were time, THIS was it???? Only, the street I turned down to find a place to go had security sitting in a squad car. I walked up to him to ask if there was a restroom anywhere. Of course he said no, so I made haste to the next block...

And WOULDN'T YOU KNOW! An answer to prayer!!!!!

Just one block over was the cleanest, more efficient porto-potty I've ever seen in my life!!! I all but sprinted over to the Simply Loos stall, praying that it was not locked, and pried the door open! To my relief (and surprise), it was open (at around a quarter to 2am) and the cleanliness rivaled toilets in actual establishments (no detectable odor or anything)! There was toilet paper, soap and running water!!! Yes! So I could use the Simply Loos porto-loo in style, and leave it with my good hygiene untainted! (For the most part!)

Man! I was soooooo happy after that I didn't care if we took the next hour and walked home!!! Julia even decided to use it, after which we kind of meandered down the street, found a takeout place still open, and grabbed the next bus to Old Street!!

And THAT, ladies and gents, was our Thursday night in London!!! in a nutshell!

SO Day two in London......

2011-02-12T22:16:00.005-05:00

On Thursday the 10th I was scheduled to visit a university to meet with the director of the Children's Literature Research Center because I'm considering studying there in the near future. I'd scheduled the appointment about a month ago and had been having steady correspondence with the director assuring that I was glad to visit the department come Thursday. Meanwhile, after staying up all night researching somethings about studying children's lit that I wanted to address in the meeting, I slept until I had just enough time to get to the campus. Since I didn't really know which part of London in which it was located, despite checking and re-checking directions, I decided that we'd take a taxi to the campus to ensure we'd make it. I knew from looking online that the campus was located near Queen Mary Hospital, so when we get to the cabbie station, I ask to be taken to there thinking I could walk to the college after arriving at the hospital entrance. From Google maps it was determined that it would take about 30 mins to drive there, but our cabbie got us there in like 15. He pulled up and was like, "Here's the hospital, there are two universities nearby." One was Queen Mary University and I'm not sure what the other was, but it wasn't the campus I was looking for. Meanwhile, I paid, we got out and I decided to walk (in the rain) and try to find it.... LONG STORY SHORT, 3pm came and went with us searching and searching for the school in the general area of the hospital and was FINALLY enlightened by a kind hospital attendant that we were in EAST London while the university near Queen Mary Hospital was in fact in SOUTH WEST London. I'd already realized I wasn't going to make my meeting, and to make matters worse, I didn't have the phone number to the office, only the address and the contact person. So I felt HORRIBLE! Completely disappointed for compounded reasons; not only was I missing my informative meeting, but I was standing up the director of the program I'm interested in applying to. I could have just melted right in the rain... a bit devastated, to say the least.

So the attendant told us how to get back toward Shoreditch, which is near my cousin's flat, and we started walking to a bus stop. In that moment I decided to call my girl from London to check in and see how she was doing and if we'd be able to get up. She asked how I was and I told her that I'd missed my appointment because the cabbie brought me to E Ldn when I needed to be in SW Ldn. She goes, "NO WAY! I LIVE in SW London, am here now!!!!" So, seeing my dilemma she offered to look up the # to the office of the department where I had the meeting, and I was able to call the director herself, humbly apologize for missing the appointment offering the reason (she completely understood), and get comfort in her offering to answer any questions I have by email and encouraging me to remain in contact, especially if it will lead to me offering a proposal for Ph.D. study! So, yay.....

Meanwhile, you have NO IDEA the weight that was lifted off my shoulder just by making that call!!!!! Now I could really relax, stop pouting, and get back into the swing of the London Adventure!! So, we came back to the flat in time to regroup and figure out where to meet my boy Lion for our Thursday night excursion..... PORTOBELLO ROAD!

He suggested we meet him at Mau Mau for drinks and music. My boy Ahmed had also mentioned that this sis from BK was going to be performing that night, so I knew this was where we needed to be. Ju and I actually arrived on Portobello Rd about two hours before Lion was to come because he had a football match, so he suggested we eat at this Malaysian restaurant called Makan. We were sitting in this Thai pub when I made the call to him, but we hadn't ordered yet, so we kindly excused ourselves and went down the road. I was telling Ju that in my father's far east travels, he's often mentioned really enjoying the food of either Malaysia or Singapore, saying that while one had realllly tasty spicy food, the other was just alright and not as well seasoned. I couldn't remember which he said he liked more, so I was down for Malaysian jumpoff. And BOY am I glad we did... that food was bangin', yo! And SPIIICCCCYYY!!!! That was the best place he could have recommended for us to eat! Tasty and eclectic to boot!

So from there, we were off to MauMau! I love it there. It really reminds me of some place I'd see in Williamsburg, Parkslope or LES...... And turns out one of the bartenders used to live in Park Slope, real interesting bloak, as it were! We had such a good time here, with the ambiance and the live music that I could never have imagined that the next night would be ten times more electric than when we were at MauMau!

Lion finally arrived at MauMau bar and introduced us to half the bar which were a bunch of his cool Londoner comrades! Got to see the sis from BK rock the stage with a live band and dope singer MC from London. Truly one of those "eat, drink and be merry" moments!!!! Had the best conversation with a brotha that's spent a lot of time in Brasil doing volunteer work, which is most interesting because this country -------> BR, has become a running theme in our UK adventure during this trip! (Perhaps this needs to be my next international trip? ;)

And on that note.... I'll document our next chapter to the adventure, the Brazilian affair!

LA --> BK --> UK! Night UNO!

2011-02-09T19:59:00.004-05:00

So, to start off, I am so amazed and excited at how easy it was to get here...

Hearing stories about delayed flights due to inclement weather, taking hours to get through customs, and the other seeming horror stories associated with international travel, I just was expecting.. well, more ta-do and hoopla related to getting across the pond!

I actually arrived at JFK a little more than two hours before my flight, which turned out to be more than necessary-- if you ask me. I slept on the way to the airport, and once the cabby arrived, I sprinted in and was on my way.

So here I am thinking that I could take one of my two suitcases on the flight as a carry-on, and the attendant shut me down quick fast and in a hurry by telling me it was too large to fly in cabin, and that I'd have to check it for $50. STRAIGHT FACE, "But it is carry-on size for Jetblue," I responded. "Well, not for American. What would you like to do?" **Sigh** I pull out a hundred dollar bill that was not designated for luggage fees, remove my laptop from said carry-on, and check it. Because if I'd answered what I would "like to do", I may not have been allowed to get on the flight. Sometimes, you just have to go with the flow, especially when that flow is leading toward a wonderful trip to Europe.

Once I got [somewhat] over having to pay to check my 2nd bag, I went through airport security in like 8 minutes and was seated at the gate two minutes later. There's just something about traveling early in the morning on a Wednesday that I love so much! There's literally a handful of people in the airport at that time. Who needs the hustle and bustle of middle of the day weekend traveling??

I got settled at the gate and started looking at video footage I'd downloaded from my Flip camera until Jujubee arrived from her LA flight! Wondertwins back together again!!!! Meanwhile, she shows up with a list of things she needs to get FOR THE TRIP that she's yet to actually get... A coat (?), a flat-iron (??), a scarf to sleep in (?), an ipod charger... I'm like, "Um, did you not understand that the trip was on Feb 9th???? Which is today!" LOL! "WHY do you need to get all of that once we get to London!?" But, Juju had her reasons, and that's alright with me! hahahah

About an hour later, it was time to board. Talk about a flight half empty! It looked more like 60% or more of the seats unoccupied. Better for the passengers, if you ask me. Both Jujee and I had rows to ourselves, and whereas she chose to knit for most of the flight, I was KNOCKED OUT before even leaving the runway. Slept for ninety percent of the flight, and woke up with 55mins left (and that's out of a seven hour flight!) All in all, I'd say that worked out well...

So, blah blah blah, we land, we get to the UK Border to go through and almost get kicked out the country before even getting let IN!!! Whereas I was being very stealth with my ability to sneak a couple of photos at the custom line, Ju takes out her digital camera with bright flash and snaps a photo! Immediately, customs agent 33 calls for security and agent 32 bum rushes like "THIS is a secure area, you cannot take photographs. You must delete it now!" (Really??? Three agents?? For a photograph?) She's like, "Are you talking to me?" Even though I gave her a quicks heads up like, "Yo, they're coming for you right now!" lol! So she's like, "Okay, I'm deleting it... There is only one photograph, see it's gone." So, in the end, it wasn't THAT big of a deal, but I was glad we didn't get kicked out, ...yet. Not one day one, hour one!

Getting from Heathrow to Shoreditch was not all that bad... except for dragging the luggage up and down all of the steps in order to save money (instead of getting a taxi). BUT the major problem from when I'd landed was my Blackberry not working. When I called T-Mobile, they assured that I'd be able to use my Blackberry Curve in London, but ever since I've landed it remains on SOS (or searching for signal). So, of course that kept me from calling my cousin, or anyone else, to say that I'd arrived. It even prevented me from getting online or simply sending text messages. So I need to check into this, though when I finally did hook up with the cuzzo, he had an extra celly for me to use.

But actually linking up with him was has been the most extraordinary little magical event to happen so far! So, Jujee and I are walking down the cobblestone of Coronet, not quite sure where his flat is located or if he's even home. And of course, since he works long awful hours (i.e. a real job) he was not home when we arrived out front with our four bags! So a few people pass us, and I walk up and down the street trying to figure out what to do since I can't reach him via my cell. And Ju is like, "Why don't you ask a nice passerby if you can use their cell phone to call him." Now, if you're like me, you're thinking, IF someone asked if they could use my celly, I'd probably kindly turn them down.... (well, maybe I'd let them, but it's still a random request), BUT I decided to go on and ask someone. The first guy that passed looked too stuffy... and the second one answered a cell phone call right as he was approaching us. I very well could've been like, "Hey, I know I don't know you, but can you get off your phone so I can use it, Mister!" So I'm like ,"OK! Whoever is next, I'm asking him.." And wouldn't you know, the very next person to pass, a nice Spanish gentlefellow with long flowing hair and gentle disposition (if by gentle you mean, wary of two American strangers asking to use his cell phone!) just so happened to be my cousin's neighbor from across the street!

So, not only was the neighbor like "Who are you waiting for? Ben?" but he actually had his phone number in his cell. He called him up like, "I have someone here that you'd like to speak to!"

THAT blew my mind, because, literally, I had not spoken to Ben to tell him I had landed and was on my way. I hadn't known who to ask to use their cell phone... I just knew the address and that I needed to show up! And God sent the neighbor to meet us with his cell phone! HA! Our steps are ordered!!! ...So, cousin Ben was minutes away from arriving by taxi to greet us, and we came up to his *wonderful* and amazing flat. Two or three levels it seems to be, with rooftop access. And he lives alone! It's huge with hardwood floors and a wood panel fridge that blends in with the cabinets! Real cushy living! And the best part are the turntables in his living room! I told him we HAVE to have a party here before I leave!!!! ;D

So once he got us settled in, Ju and I went for a walk and ended up at a little pub down the street from him call El Paso for a late dinner. The food was great, the bartender was cute (Ziya who's named for his grandfather from Cypress), and we're ending night one on an absolute high! Looking for what London's got to offer! And maybe Paris. I really want to try to get there on Saturday or Sunday.. so, we'll see!!!

Stay tuned for more to come!

i'm in the mood for love...

2011-02-03T02:27:00.003-05:00

but what else is new?

....and since there is not much love affair taking place, with any particular person of interest anyway, I've decided to be enraptured by the vignettes of amore in the film New York, I Love You, especially since I am in a perpetual unyielding, unflinching love affair with this fair city.

So, since this is the second time I've watched it tonight (lucky for me it's airing on TMC, never mind I have the dvd), and I can't get enough of each couple's arc and dialogue, I decided to see if the script was available online (as I feel like it will benefit me to read it in it's entirety).... and

VOILA!

http://www.script-o-rama.com/movie_scripts/n/new-york-i-love-you-script.html

The transcript of New York, I Love You!

Unfortunately, it's not the full script. There's only dialogue; no character names or stage directions or any of the extra stuff because it's on script-o-rama. Apparently it was painstakingly transcribed by a fellow lover of the movie, so I can't be mad. As soon as I located it I immediately looked up one of the early script sections between a Hasidic diamond buyer woman and an Indian Jain diamond seller. That has been one of the most intriguing of the story lines, though I'm looking forward to reading the one with Robin Wright Penn.

The last movie I loved enough to find the script was Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I remember sitting in a temp office a few days after having seen it, and looking up the script online and reading it on the spot. I love that movie.

So.... until another love affair finds me. Or until I get around to deciding what love story I want to write of the characters walking around my head. I'll continue watching these over and over and finding the scripts of the ones I love to immerse myself in.

*sigh*

I'm glad Grey's Anatomy is on tomorrow. They never cease with the sagas of the heart. Not the sappy overly romantic stuff, but that gut wrenching heart on your sleeve this can't be real, but i'm feeling it, for better or for worse on any given day, kind of love.

if you can call it that.

i think about "love" too much.

strangely enough, i don't even think i really really want any parts of it forreal right now. the movie are enough, and the tele shows. one to two hour intervals of matters of the heart may be the best thing for now. because that's the way it is anyway.

So in my brushing up on Cheers trivia..

2011-02-02T03:09:00.002-05:00

..I started wondering about the relationship between Carla Tortelli and Eddie LeBec, as I'd kind of forgotten what happened after they got married.

Well, good ole wikipedia came in handy; I was able to not only ready about Carla and Eddie marrying but the whole arc of their relationship which ended with his death in an ice show freak accident. But as every character demise usually has something to do with the actor playing that character, I did a bit more research to find out why, in fact, Eddie LeBec had to die...

So. In a unfortunate twist of foot-in-mouth drama, it seems the actor who played Eddie LeBec, Jay Thomas, had a radio show at the time, and after a few seasons of playing the character one day decided to answer a callers question regarding how he liked working on the show:

"He said something to the effect of 'It’s brutal. I have to kiss Rhea Perlman.' Well, guess who happened to be listening."

This is according to the blogsite of one of the writer/producer/creative executives of the show. In an entry entitled "The Kiss of Death for Eddie LeBec" he goes on to explain that Rhea Perlman was actually listening to the show the very moment Jay Thomas made this unflattering comment. .....botta-b00m-botta-bing, Eddie LeBec has gone on to the big hockey ring in the sky!

How crazy is that!!! I mean, I was so young when the show was airing that there's no way I would've ever known any of that. And apparently it wasn't really common knowledge since it is only documented on this blog. I love personal accounts of popular culture history...

And Miss Bettye Lavette

2011-01-31T02:47:00.002-05:00

Whooooo-weee... She's giving me Tina and Nancy all day!!!

Yes!

Betty Davis

2011-01-31T01:59:00.002-05:00

So, I'm trying to figure out why I'm just getting hipped to her music?

I. love. her.

Perceptive as I am, as soon as I heard her I thought of Joi, and realized the reason I love her so much is because I didn't realize I really love the Betty Davis in her!

The original:

I'm a little upset that I'll be in London while Joi is performing here in NYC... lol! Never mind I've seen her in concert yet I've never been to England.... I wanna see Joi!

Meanwhile, I wonder what prompted Betty Davis to leave the business... I bet if she decided to come back to the stage at 65, she would be the business. I'm just sayin'!

Black rockers ROCK!

i'm reminding myself

2011-01-28T19:45:00.003-05:00

that nobody actually "enjoys" going to rehearsal....

and even though that is compounded by a complete unwillingness to travel far and wide by public tran during inclement weather, like snow and so forth...

i committed to doing this, so i should just suck it up,

and go to rehearsal.

very far away from my house.

starting at 9p even though nobody ever shows up at nine.

non paid.

in the snow.

without being offered a ride.

(sigh.)

It's not a new year's resolution but...

2011-01-23T19:04:00.002-05:00

I really am looking forward to the workout/running regimen my brother is instituting for us. I've allowed him to convince me to go half on a fairly reasonable treadmill which arrived last monday. Then he said we'd workout three times a week: Pull-ups (of course mine are assisted, two at a time), planks, and running for 15 mins straight on the tm. Already I've done some variation of those three things the past three days. And I kinda like it. Not in the "Yeah I like to workout" sense of things, but in the "wow, I never have been inclined to commit to this, and now I'm open to it and will purpose to follow through." My cousin whose been severely overweight for years has been working out to lose weight. She is an inspiration as well as my brother who took on running and tennis in the past five years. They're 38 and 40 respectively, which shows me it's never too late to begin a healthier lifestyle. A told a friend about it and he said "Don't get too Flo-Jo with it" and I laughed like "Imagine ME, as fly as Flo-Jo!" but wouldn't that be dope if I got trim and muscular like an actual track runner! It's not my goal, at all.. matterfact I don't have one, per se. I'm not trying to altogether lose weight, I'm not trying to run a marathon. I just want to be healthier.

So.... it's not a resolution. I just suppose in order to have a change of life, you have to just decide one day to start making that change.

I am engrossed in all things Ted Williams right now.

2011-01-08T02:08:00.001-05:00

and I am in awe. Smiling. Watching his reuniting w/his mother, working the circuit full of grace & charm. So articulate and gracious, recounting his bountiful opportunities. I'm praying for him. Let no one take advantage of him or the fortune that has come his way. Let his children and... mother will benefit from his return. Let him remain steadfast with his relationship with God... Let him remain substance free. Let him have peace of mind once all of the hype and sensation dies down. Let him live another fifty years reaping the reward of this new chance at life. Let him be an inspiration to others. Let him NOT be the ...only one this may happen to. Let any haters or folks who will try to deter him or be a stumbling block or be a hindrance, be kept away from him. Let him be surrounded by a group of trustworthy, caring, business minded individuals who will look out for him and help him to grow spiritually, socially and mentally. Let him be responsible. Let him be the love and receive the love that he appears to be in the videos. I'm praying all of that in the Lord's name. Amen.

in the spirit of aiming higher in the new year, or just in general..

2011-01-05T06:26:00.003-05:00

...I've created my first two Craigslist ads for MaiContent, LLC in hopes that I will gain some new clients who need assistance in writing, proofreading or editing. I created one for students* and one for small business owners; pretty generic ads, they are. I will look forward to creating more detailed and niche ads though to get the ball rolling so that I may edit docs during billable hours for the better portion of each week this year. With my shortage of classes this semester, and my deciding to become incorporated as a business owner for some apparent reason last year, I need to actually put some feet behind moving forward as said business owner.

So. Even though I spent just a few minutes creating this ad and this one, I consider them to be seeds that will yield financial fruit one way or another in the coming days....

*whereas I realize the one for students looks a bit generic without the name of the company or my name appearing anywhere, I think it's better to be inconspicuous when editing student papers, no? I probably could be a bit more deliberate with putting my company name out there for the small business ad though.... I'll have time to pull it together when I get back to NY.

let me acknowledge oh-eleven.

2011-01-04T05:22:00.008-05:00

i'm still in southern california, and it's the new year.

i miss new york.

--------> dearly.

but i love my family. and consider it necessary to spend time with them. and i've enjoyed seeing friends i don't normally get to hang out with as well. but i miss my home, my life in new york. so, a few more days, and it will time to bid the west coast adieu.

january one. 2011 a.d. 9a. i met Oprah Winfrey. unexpectedly invited to the launch party of OWN by a high school friend i had no idea was working for the network, i got myself up, three hour after having fallen asleep post-NYE festivities, and was on my way with one friend to meet two others and the one that had invited us. it was a lavish event for staff, families and friends, and of course we couldn't believe we were there, but for me it represented the kind of magic that happens in my life and represents what things may come if i keep living. i can only imagine, yet can't imagine, at the same time. it was the most exciting January 1 i believe i've ever experienced in my life, and is tremendously the other side of the coin that was January 1, 2010. such joy to complement the grief of one year ago. the pendulum of emotion in my life rings with a fierceness.

january two. good music in LA's music scene. i know a few cats well, but am making the kind of connections with the musicians out here that i have with the ones in NYC, mainly because of my love of the music and undying energy that comes about from the music. i'd like to hope that at some point, musicians on both coasts will be more than guys that i admire for their talent, and who admire me for my passionate energy, but that i develop enough as a vocalist to be considered one of their peers. in new york, it's happening, slowly but surely. the more i sing with s.u., and the find other opportunities to sing, the more i will find myself included on someone's stage. it's time to work at my craft more than i ever have instead of just coasting on being able to do it. i want to be good at what i do, not just nice.

january three. i swear a rainbow followed me all the way from los angeles to our timeshare in Dana Point. i saw it as soon as we got on the 405 south headed through carson. and BOOM, in the sky was the faintest path of rainbow* in the clouds. the clouds ended, the rainbow ended. then we drive a few more miles, and BOOM there it was again. and i literally stared out of the window for the hour or so it took to get here, watching the rainbow disappear and reappear, playing peeek-a-boo if you will, and finally reveal itself in its entirety once we reached our destination in Dana Point. and when my parents went to check in, it totally disappeared for good.

imagine that. a rainbow wanted to play with me, of all people, on the third day of the new year.

how charming.

Dana Point Rainbow. 3 January 11.

(by the time we arrived, it was in full arch.)

*the second one i've seen in southern cali since i've been here. i think i'm going to document each and every rainbow i see this year. let's see if it's a year of enchanting rainbows following me around, or if i reach a pot of gold at the end of one!

Dear God,

2010-12-28T05:50:00.003-05:00

I do believe I have stumbled upon my next step.

I am enamored and daydreaming about this program in connection with this one, and officially have reason to believe that London is calling. I think, for now anyway, New York may have run its course in my little adventurous life. Is it serendipitous that I've already booked a ticket and plan to visit this very city where the university resides, before having even an inkling that such a program existed for me???? Or that I have not published my own works just yet because it simply has not been the time. Or that I've been wanting to move abroad for quite some time now (read: all of my life), and perhaps, on all fronts, professional and personal, the time has come?

Swoooon.

All things Children's Literature.
could very well lead to ------> internationally renowned author,
Dr. MK Perkins.

it's just a daydream, at the moment.

But.
Perhaps, more.

I mean,
once the application is sent, it will be a plan of action.
Now, won't it.
(that's how my journey to Sarah Lawrence began!)

*grin*

........
so, Dear Lord, I am trusting you to lead the way.
In your name,
amen

and i love him

2010-12-21T17:05:00.001-05:00

esther phillips by way of the beatles.

and the even lovelier studio version:

With sympathy, a country mourns

2010-12-07T18:27:00.008-05:00

Not just the passing of a public figure, but merely a wife who has become an icon for what every wife (or spouse) desires from the person they married:

"I am imperfect in a million ways, but I always thought I was the kind of woman, the kind of wife to whom a husband would be faithful. I had asked for fidelity, begged for it, really, when we married. Leave me, if you must, but be faithful to me if you are with me." -- Elizabeth Edwards

Her trials have been manifold, having mourned the loss of her 16 year old son. Devastation, untold. Fighting multiple cancers while supporting a husband who decided to put his best interest as an individual forward above hers/theirs. Her story is not singular; for me, it puts a very universal stamp on the realities of life and marriage. The realities we've seen countless times and will continue to. Sometimes you don't get the upper hand of being taken advantage of. She didn't get to divorce her cheating husband and go on to find love with a man who would honor her (as far as we know).... but maybe that doesn't matter. She went on to have two more children after her son died, and while not replacing his presence, I'm sure they added joy unspeakable for the past twelve years. Her husband wronged her in the most despicable of ways, but perhaps, as friends and confidantes, her breaths getting shorter in recent weeks and days, it's not unreasonable to consider that maybe they made peace with the life they've shared together and the wrong that has taken place between the two of them. Her husband rationalized his decisions which affected his behavior (maybe) because of/(certainly) despite his wife's terminal illness, and must spend his remaining days carrying that load along his journey. I'd like to HOPE that the recent past few weeks or months allowed for them to gain closure and even, maybe, re-kindle a feeling of togetherness (in ways that the public will never know) before she passed from this life. She also had to rationalize and evaluate her involvement with him, and perhaps, even with planning to carry out a divorce from her husband, still was able to ultimately honor him and their marriage by passing away a month before the divorce was to be granted. Til Death, did they part. Not without pain, but a full life lived. Unconditional, it seems from my bird's eye view peeping in (as I know very little about the Edwards beyond headline news).

Though.... Having endured it all, I surely hope she's resting in the Lord's peace now.

in the middle of my thirtyfirst year,

2010-12-01T18:22:00.002-05:00

and at the end of this two thousandth and tenth year a.d.,

i can say with much accuracy and conviction that

(though i truly enjoy the company of a companion i adore

and who tickles me from the inside out

and though the attraction of and to certain people make life worth living,

and though i fully and completely believe in the kind of precious unconditional

love that i see others existing in,

and though-perhaps-

there really happens to be some guy out there

who prefers-yearns, even-

to find out all there is to know about the bizarre bird that is me

and who is compelled to avail himself to

build some kind of existence together)

i am,

currently,

the furthest away from

-wanting-

a committed significant other*

(or desiring to have offspring of my own

with said unwanted s.o.)

than i've ever been in my adult life.

progression?

regression?

who knows.

but. it is what it is.

que seh-ra, seh-ra.

*or the idea of a significant other

What does it say about me..

2010-11-30T23:50:00.003-05:00

that i'd rather get home at six, shower, get under the covers with my lappie, eat left over takeout, sip shiraz straight from the bottle and flip between centric and lifetime.... than go on a second date with a guy?

..................................................

in other news, i think i missed my calling as a soul train dancer.

Relocating to NYC from LA and other thoughts (Atlanta Post interview questions)

2010-11-27T12:16:00.010-05:00

Earlier this month I got a phone call from my homegirl-turned-publicist, Farrah Parker, asking me to answer questions for a journalist in Atlanta for a piece that would appear in the Post. I thought it would simply be about relocating from the west coast to the east, but it turns out the article, published on 11/23 and entitled "Is it Where You're From or Where You're At? Black Demographics and Creative Economics", had a more in depth look at the inspiration for professional opportunities that people of color find in various parts of the country. It's a great piece that I was happy to be a part of, by all means.

Meanwhile, since I took the time to compose my answers to the original six questions, I thought I'd post them here for posterity's sake. They have everything to do with what I prefer about both cities, why I think certain things are as they are, and other random things of interest... ;D

Enjoy!

1. Can you describe your experience moving from coast to coast i.e. what brought you to the east coast and what areas of New York did you reside in?

I actually left LA when I was 17 to attend college at Howard University in Washington DC. I always thought the world was bigger than Los Angeles and knew that by the time I went to college, it would be out of state. I’d visited Hawaii with my mom in the 8^th grade and was convinced that I was going to attend the University of Hawaii! But being a kid of the 80s and 90s, I grew up with A Different World as the standard, and since I’d had other family members and friends of the family attend Howard, I decided I would go to an HBCU (Historically Black College or University). In 11^th grade, my parents sent me on an HBCU college tour where I saw a number of colleges including the AUC, Tuskegee, FAMU, Southern, Xavier, Dillard, Hampton, Virginia Union, and Morgan State, but I ended up visiting Howard on the first day of school in 1995 and the vibe was so electric that I decided THIS is where I wanted to be. So, I ended up in Washington, DC before I ever knew I’d come to reside in NYC, and really enjoyed my time. I loved that the cities and states on the east coast are in such close proximity to one another and within hours you could be in Atlanta or North Carolina. I actually thought I was going to relocate to Atlanta once I graduated in 2000, but circumstances prevented that from happening; then I had plans to leave for the Peace Corps in 2001 until the September 11^th attacks, but once that happened, all plans changed again! In re-evaluating my plans, I’d been interested in doing an MFA in creative writing, and after some research decided on Sarah Lawrence College in Bronxville, NY. As it turned out, that opportunity wound up being the on-ramp to my life here in New York City!

Originally, I moved to Harlem World, living in a beautiful area on the west side called Hamilton Heights, just two or three blocks north of City College, on 144th and Hamilton Terrace. It was a quaint block that I still love to this day, but a year later I got the opportunity to move to Stuyvesant Heights Brooklyn onto Stuyvesant Avenue where I very well may stay for the next thirty years! (Of course assuming I get the cash to buy a brownstone on this block before it's all said and done!)

2. How did you feel NY was different from LA in terms of the Black presence and culture?

In Los Angeles, there is an area not far from my parents’ home, between Crenshaw and Degnan called Lemiert Park, which is celebrated as the district of Black culture. Here you have a weekly Sunday drum circle, African shops and vendors, Black-owned and operated establishments like Eso Won Books, The World Stage Jazz Club, and Marla Gibb’s Vision Theatre. Every year, this is where the Kwanzaa Parade and festivities take place. Aside from a few of the museums designated for the celebration of Black history and culture, this is it in terms of concentrated presence and culture as it relates to ethnic history. Although, I do appreciate driving through certain neighborhoods and seeing wall murals that reflect Black presence and culture. But, it feels more filtered in Los Angeles than in New York. In LA, there are plenty of Black people, especially those who are in middle class and affluent Black areas, OR those who are in the working class and impoverished areas, and they represent a different kind of Black presence and culture than you will find in NYC. Perhaps, as I think about it, the differences in Black people in LA have more to do with economic differences than ethnic and cultural differences that you’ll find here in NYC. I believe you have a more concentrated area of Black artists and musicians in New York than you have in LA as well, which changes some of the cultural dynamics in NYC. I really believe that when Black people from LA move to New York, they are certain to encounter a bit of culture shock, even if they’ve been around Black people in LA their entire lives!

3. What were the differences you noticed between Blacks in LA and Blacks in New York?

It’s a common misperception that people in New York are a lot more “real” or grounded than people in Los Angeles, with the support coming from the fact that Hollywood is in LA which is where you’ll find a good majority of shallow individuals. I don’t entirely ascribe to that train of thought. I actually believe both New York and Los Angeles has its fair share of shallow, self-centered poseurs as well as warm, grounded and sincere people; having said that, there are measureable differences between east coasters and west coasters. I smile a lot and generally speak to or, in some way, acknowledge any person who makes eye contact with me, regardless of where I am. Apparently, “I’m from LA” tends to explain that part of my personality as it’s widely believed that many women from New York don’t entirely offer warm smiling greetings to people they don’t know. My brother just moved to New York eight months ago, and he’s still trying to get acclimated to the differences between New York and LA women, especially when it comes to the simple interaction of meeting someone out in public. However, I will say that New York people, Black or otherwise, as more direct and cut to the chase than west coasters, and I’m getting to cut my teeth in that sensibility! A girlfriend came to visit once, and someone was encroaching on her personal space demanding that she speak with him and she didn’t exactly know how to take command of the situation. Being here for some years though, I was very comfortable in telling him to back up and leave her/us alone. I don’t think I would’ve done that in the manner in which I did if I were still living in LA. There are other times when I’ve seen myself be more confrontational than I ever would have been in the past. However, I definitely know when to turn it on and turn it off!

Another difference tends to be in style and hair choices. Whereas in LA you do have a large contingency of africentric individuals who wear natural styles, I still think it’s more prevalent in New York. I knew in 11^th and 12^th grade that I wanted to grow locs, but it wasn’t until I moved to DC and went to Howard in 1996 that I figured out it was actually an option. Yet, my mother has always had a sophisticated africentric style of dress and has worn hairstyles ranging from a natural to fingerwaves! So, again, it’s never been an issue of feeling that I couldn’t express myself culturally. However, when I look at some of the African American teenagers coming up in LA right now, I don’t know how much they value styles and choices that are centered in African tradition like perhaps a lot of the youth in New York do. I’ll attribute that, though to the fact that the Black population in New York City is significantly more diverse than the Black population in LA. In New York, you are the minority if you are African American; when I meet people, their first question to me is which African country or part of the Caribbean am I from? I firmly believe that every person of color God has ever created from every part of the world is represented and accounted for here in New York City! I can’t say that of Los Angeles. So, because there is a greater degree of cultural diversity, and because much of that diversity comes from immigrants from the African continent, you will see a lot more representation of that culture among the general population of Blacks, as opposed to an “I’m Black and I’m proud” sensibility born of the Civil Rights era for those whose parents and grandparents were born in the US on the west coast.

One last, and perhaps major, difference is the attention Black women receive from brothers on the east coast/NYC and on the west. I don’t want to and will not feed into any preconceived or media-heightened ideas that Black men aren’t interested in Black women, because I don’t believe that at all! However, I will say the way I am approached by Black men here on the east coast is all together of a different intensity, fervency, if you will, than brothas on the west coast! I remember when I lived in LA, I would be interested in guys, but there seemed to be a discrepancy between my feelings for guys, their feelings for me, and actually going out on dates! I had plenty of guy FRIENDS though, but I can’t say that I had a lot of dates! But I moved to New York, and the guys were coming around with a whole ‘nother mode of operation! I remember I was at a club the first year I lived here, and I’d garnered the attention of a guy (probably just my smiling and acknowledging him!) but I was standing talking to another guy. Yet, within minutes, the second guy came over, excused me from the first brotha, and spun me into his arms to start dancing with him! It was very arrogant of him, of course, but sooo smooth! So I’ll say it seems that I get more attention from guys on this coast than in my hometown, but I’m not mad! A close friend move to New York the same year I did, and she and I have so many tales of random good times we’ve had with various guys we’ve met out here, yet she moved back to Los Angeles a couple of years ago and is always remarking that her social life as it pertains to meeting men is not what it was in NYC. I’m not saying the LA brothas don’t like black (darker skinned) women at all! That’s NOT what I’m saying because my parents and aunts and many of my cousins have Black significant others…. but, I just know what my experience is within both coasts!

4. Which city felt more diverse to you? Which city was more conducive to you feeling inspired?

During one concert here at Central Park’s Summerstage, Cassandra Wilson made a comment that I thought was so applicable to the City’s diversity; she said, “California has landscape, New York has PEOPLEscape!” Though I’ve been in New York for close to seven years, I’m still enchanted by the variation of people of color I encounter here. And not only people of color from around the world, but diversity as it pertains to being able to deviate from whatever general ideas people think you should be doing as a Black person. I love people watching as I ride the subway because I can observe people who are confident in their own crazy, weird, different, eccentric, celebrated existences and, for the most part, are not being questioned by others about why they are different. The same, perhaps, may be said of LA, but I think it may be questioned there a bit more instead of just understood to be the way it is. I definitely believe New York has Los Angeles beat when it comes to diversity, but as far as acceptance, it probably has more to do with the circle of influence you come out of (the specific family, community).

I am most certainly more inspired in New York, but that is because I wasn’t born and raised here. Even though I’ve been here for a few years, I am still very much enchanted with learning the beat and rhythm of New York City. The energies are very different. There’s a kinetic energy here that keeps everything moving; New York’s pulse will propel you forward whether you’re ready or not. Los Angeles is slower paced and often mellow. The sunlight and palm trees can be very calming! Sometimes stagnant. By comparison, you get car horns and an earful of someone getting cursed out on any given day in NYC! But even in that, New York inspires me to find the adventure of the day; if I’m leaving my house to get on the train and walk around the City taking care of my business, I’m sure to encounter adventure. In Los Angeles, things are so insular at times, especially when you leave your house, get in a car, drive to your destination for your scheduled activity, and drive back home. No real adventure there! But LA is comfortable because it’s home. It’s where my parents, childhood friends, and extended family are. I know LA like the back of my hand; comfortable, yes, inspiring, not in the way that propels my life forward.

5. Which city or coast fits your career aspirations better in terms of resources and access?

I often reflect on this fact: In New York, I am currently living a version of my life that I only dreamed of living when I was in Los Angeles. What I mean is that there are things I get to do here professionally that I hadn’t exactly figured out how to do or gotten the nerve to do while living in LA. Granted, I’ve cultivated more of my adult years in New York, but when I was in LA, my ideas about what I would do professionally were more traditional (well, aside from wanting to go to the Peace Corps). My parents have always supported me in whatever I wanted to do, so it wasn’t an issue of what I was supposed to be doing over something else, but had I stayed in LA I just wouldn’t be fashioning the life there that I live here. For starters, I spent time working in, both, education as well as marketing and advertising before I got my Masters and for some time afterward. However, I never felt like I was on the right career path while working in marketing or working in the department of education. I’ve always been a writer, I’ve always enjoyed entertainment, I’ve always hated nine-to-fives! So, in 2008, two years after completing my Masters, I decided that THAT was as good a time as any to quit my job and take on jobs as a freelance ghostwriter and editor. Unfortunately, I made that decision just as the economy was taking its downturn! So, I ended up finding gainful employment as an adjunct professor with the City University of New York where I currently teach courses ranging from remedial writing to African American Literature. I didn’t mind joining academia in this capacity either because I’d been contemplating working on my doctorate degree. I still haven’t decided that I’m going to do that, but I was reflecting to my father last night that I really am enjoying my life as it is unfolding right now; I make my own teaching schedule and appreciate that every day on the campus is different. I’m also left with enough time for freelance writing assignments, to sing with a band (which is probably the most surprising life change since moving to New York), and get to travel at whim! I’ll take that kind of professional freedom any day, and I really think that being in New York and seeing people living and thriving outside of conventional standards has really benefitted my personal and professional trajectory in ways that would not have been realized had I remained in Los Angeles.

6. Finally, please include more information about yourself. How long you've lived in NY and what you're up to now.

I moved to Harlem, NYC in the summer of 2004, and to Brooklyn, which I now consider home, a year later. I’ve been an adjunct professor with two of the campuses of CUNY (College of Staten Island and Kingsborough) for two years and counting, which I consider my “day gig” (which most New Yorkers have!). In addition to helping my students become better writers, I also write and edit for clients, and finally incorporated my business, Mai:Content, LLC, this year! I work with a wide range of people from non-profit directors, to grant writers, doctoral candidates completing dissertations, PR & marketing execs, basically any person or organization that has need for a writer, ghostwriter or editor. I also work on my own artistic writing ventures with projects that I intend to publish soon. When I’m not in the classroom or in front of my laptop, I sing with a local band in New York City and consider it a privilege that we’ve performed at some of the City’s most renowned venues. I love that I’m performing on a more regular basis as well because there really is room and opportunity to thrive on any of the stages here in New York City. For me, the best part of living here is that on any given day, you get to decide what you want to do, and really figure out how to make it happen because there are so many people here who are willing to give you a chance and work with you. I’m learning that if you have a desire to do something, anything here in New York City, there is really a way to get it done. That’s not to say it will be simple, easy or just provided for you to take at whim, however, you learn that connections make the world go round, develop the relationships with the right people, learn from your mistakes, as they will be made, and stay on top the City’s energy, because moving forward is inevitable.

Being featured in The Atlanta Post makes me grin!

2010-11-23T23:42:00.003-05:00

Is It Where You’re From or Where You’re At? Black Demographics and Creative Economies

NOVEMBER 23, 2010 10:27 AM

by R. Asmerom

Mai Perkins remembers attending a concert at Central Park SummerStage with Cassanda Wilson, partly because of an observation the jazz singer made about Perkins’ new city. “She made a comment that I thought was so applicable to the city’s diversity. She said, ‘California has landscape, New York has people-scape!’” It was a sentiment that the native Angeleno could relate to.

Perkins is no different from the millions who migrate across the country for school or for a new job. She moved to Washington DC over ten years ago to attend Howard University and ended up in New York City to pursue her career as a writer.

So what makes New York a more complementary fit for her than her hometown? Maybe that has something to do with the creative economy, a concept much discussed by “urban expert” Richard Florida in his book “Who’s Your City: How the Creative Economy is Making the Place Where You Live the Most Important Decision of Your Life,” which explored an interesting pattern of how one’s city environment influences productivity and creativity.

“I really think that being in New York and seeing people living and thriving outside of conventional standards has really benefitted my personal and professional trajectory in ways that would not have been realized had I remained in Los Angeles,” said Perkins. The Brooklyn resident and adjunct professor at City University New York believes that the high level of diversity in New York fosters creativity and comfort with one’s personal identity.

When applied to the Black experience, will analyzing the creative economies explain why cities like Brooklyn or Philadelphia produce so many musical artists or why Atlanta has such a high percentage of Black entrepreneurs? According to the social theory, location is critical whether you know it or not. It’s not only about infrastructure and city government but also about the atmosphere created by people themselves. For many Blacks, just having a presence within a city is a major element.

“A majority of Blacks have a strong racial identity. If a person has a strong racial identity, it matters whether they live in a city that has a sizable percentage of that racial group,” said Rashawn Ray, an assistant professor of sociology at the University of Maryland. “Cities that have a thriving Black middle class, Black political representation or politicians clearly invested in issues that affect African-Americans, stable housing prices in black neighborhoods, public spaces conducive to physical activity, and an educational system that has a track record for graduating Black youth and assisting with college attendance are positive places for Blacks to live.”

And what about the impact of living in a city where there’s not much Black representation? Growing up in either Atlanta or Brooklyn/Harlem is a far different experience than living in a California city where Blacks only represent 6.6 percent of the state population according to the 2010 US Census Bureau Results. Although cities like Los Angeles have a Black population of nearly 12 percent (2000 Census), New York’s black population exceeds 26.6 percent (2000 Census) and Atlanta boasts a large 61.4 percent Black population (2000 Census).

Perkins, who appreciated her Los Angeles upbringing, admits that the East coast seems to be more conducive to various self-expressions. “I knew in 11th and 12th grade that I wanted to grow locks, but it wasn’t until I moved to DC and went to Howard that I figured out it was actually an option,” she said. “My mother has always had a sophisticated Afrocentric style of dress and had worn hairstyles ranging from naturals to fingerwaves. [It was] never an issue of feeling that I couldn’t express myself culturally. However, when I look at some of the African American teenagers coming up in LA right now, I don’t know how much they value styles and choices that are centered in African tradition like perhaps a lot of the youth in New York do,” she said, adding that the composition of New York cannot be ignored when discussing its impact on individuality. “The Black population in New York City is significantly more diverse than the Black population in LA. In New York, you are the minority if you are African American; when I meet people here, their first question to me is which African country or part of the Caribbean am I from.”

As Harlem, Brooklyn and Washington DC represent Black meccas of the East Coast, Atlanta is the Southern mecca, representing upward mobility, prosperity and of course, the Buppy culture.

Akiim DeShay of BlackDemographics.com, who is a native of Rochester New York, said that Atlanta made a positive impression on him after having lived there for a short time in high school. He witnessed the stable and middle class life of Atlanta that encapsulates the city’s image as a destination for many looking to start a family, take part in the burgeoning Black Hollywood, or just live in a stable African-American community. Maybe it’s unintentional but Atlanta has definitely reaped the rewards of being branded as the place to be for successful African-Americans.

“Atlanta has its problems but it also has a reputation of opportunity and prosperity,” said DeShay, who now resides outside of Dallas. “So even those who are living in poverty, high crime areas, and segregation continue to hear from others or the media about how booming the city is. They see folks from all over the country who broke their neck to move there with horror stories of places they escaped from.”

Despite the fact that Atlanta has its negatives like any other big city, much of its leverage and reputation comes from the fact that African-Americans can see themselves reflected as engines of everyday business.

“Go to any of Atlanta’s business centers and it is normal to see African Americans working in all sectors of the economy at all levels,” said DeShay. “Ask for a supervisor, manager, or even the CEO, and don’t be surprised if a Black man or woman appears. Majority Black middle class neighborhoods surround the city’s southern half. In an environment like this, how could anyone fail? Well of course it happens but don’t tell that to any of the thousands of African Americans who move there every month.” The attraction is evident; the Atlanta area gained 445,000 African Americans between 2000 and 2008 which is by far the largest Black population gain of any metropolitan area in the United States.

While the city has long been a destination for Southerners, California only began to experience Black migration in large numbers in 1940. Many Black residents of Oakland and Los Angeles will tell you that their parents or they themselves moved to California from various locations in the South for job opportunities in the aftermath of World War II. The period between 1940 and 1970 is known as the Second Great Migration, in which the state of California absorbed about 5 million blacks.

The longer history of Blacks on the East coast has dictated the dominant nature of East coast culture in music and history. Don’t we often wonder why certain cities over-represent when it comes to producing notables? “Cities such as New York and Philadelphia have historically been large markets for the culture and the arts. After all, the Harlem Renaissance and Du Bois’ classic Philadelphia Negrooccurred in these cities,” said Dr. Ray. “The legacy of these triumphs still lives on. These cities have also historically had a thriving Black middle class and Black political representation. These dynamics set the tone for allowing equitable opportunities for Blacks to be productive, creative, and upwardly mobile.”

i don't need to wait until 12/31

2010-11-18T19:09:00.002-05:00

to acknowledge that,

while having some incredible highs

strategic placed throughout the course

of each month,

THIS YEAR

has surpassed any other year

in my life

with regards to facing head on

the challenges and emotional hardships and choices and decisions and

all the things that keep your mind up at night,

doing everything from processing to racing,

questioning,

trying to accept,

not wanting to accept,

refusing to accept,

figuring out what can be changed,

how i can possibly affect that change,

how i can move forward,

what if i stand still,

should i stand still,

what if i move backwards,

is it ever necessary?

what about the ill moves,

some, questionable at best,

the rules that were bent

far enough to snap clear apart,

what do they reflect about this

heavy year

in its entirety?

it's not even over yet.

and yet, for every day that i wake up,

i thank God for his new mercies every morning,

even on the days when morning has long since passed

by the times my eyes creek open.

even in all heaviness and lonesomeness and triflingness and uncertainty and heartbreak and grief and all that stuff --that makes me question the degree of my sanity on any given day, but that i would feel even crazier not acknowledging-- and that has me convinced that each of us human beings inevitably become progressively worse with each passing year,

no one of negates of cancels God's love for me, and us all. because even in the middle of the most emotionally wrenching of days, i still hear a quiet assurance that the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases. even on days when i'm asking myself "why the heck am i even doing this" i hear, his mercies never come to an end as they are new every morning. on days when i'm lonesome over the loss of a friend that should be here, either in this world as we know it, or in my world as i'd like it, i am reminded that great is His faithfulness to us.

the peace of truth does not equate resulting happiness in a moment of personal crisis. but it does keep you from the despair that may be prevalent without the faith, hope and truth of God's love.

so, it's been a heavy year. simultaneously joyful and mournful on many given day. but i know that if i keep living, the highs have a way of outweighing the lows, and that's alright with me.

after years of listening to it online,

2010-11-11T02:47:00.001-05:00

i've finally purchased the mp3 of this favorite BH song of mine.

and my repeat function has never been so pleased.

....if i tried.

2010-11-10T23:34:00.002-05:00

before i even really knew what this meant, i've loved this song.

I couldn't love you more

If time was running out

Couldn't love you more

Oh right now baby

Take me by the hand come on

Be my darling be the one

I wouldn't want to lay or ever love with another

If everyone in the world

Could give me what I wanted

I wouldn't want for more than I have

I couldn't love you more if I tried

I couldn't love you more boy

'cos darling I'm on your side

I really am on your side

My love I'm on your side

Oh right now baby

I couldn't love you more boy

Stay exactly how you are

I couldn't love you more boy

Couldn't love you more

I couldn't love you more boy

Stay exactly how you are

I couldn't love you more boy

Couldn't love you more

If everyone in the world

Would give me their treasure

I would not want for more

Than I have right now

...in my dreams...

2010-11-07T01:51:00.002-04:00

Haunt me

In my dreams

If you please

Your breath is with me now and always

It's like a breeze

So should you ever doubt me

If it's help that you need

Never dare to doubt me

And if you want to sleep

I'll be quiet

Like an angel

As quiet as your soul could be

If you only knew

You had a friend like me

So should you ever doubt me

If it's help that you need

Never dare to doubt me

and to this precious little brown dollbaby

2010-11-03T01:43:00.004-04:00

....who lived a short but significant existence, the talented Ms. Shannon Tavares, who lost her battle against Leukemia on Monday, I say rest in the light.

i might be a little out of control right now...

2010-11-03T00:48:00.004-04:00

i'm mad tired... and emotionally all over the place... with so much work to do... and i'm sure a rehearsal or two or three coming up very soon....

but I can't stop thinking about how my friend is gone, and my group of friends in LA are grieving over our collective loss. SO, i got a ticket to LA... leaving around 9pm tonight, to attend the service tomorrow afternoon, and head back to nyc by midnight... arriving in time to drop my bags, maybe close my eyes for a moment (or not), then head to SI for class at 12:20.

...yeah, that classifies as being out of control.

i haven't really been talking about my whole feelings surrounding this tragic turn of events. it's a really different space i'm in than when Shay Shay passed. of course, she was a friend as close as a sister cut from the same cloth who'd been in my life since I was a tween..... but it is still very unbelievable, unsettleable, ...still very questionable... like, a how could this happen, kind of questionable, even though i understand that, it just happens.

last time a friend died, i had a "someone" here to definitely lean on. and i truly needed it at that point, as distraught as i was. this time, i somewhat mentioned it to my brother in passing, letting him know i'd be gone, yet again, for a day or so. he asked the details, and that was that. everything else related to existing in this moment, this experience, has been very solitary. maybe the most solitary i've experienced something to this degree. So, it almost feels like it's not real. like it's something I've made up. a dream or something of the sorts. nightmare that certainly isn't true (the absurdity of it all) but i remember the details so vividly. and i want to tell someone about the dream, but i've decided it's not exactly necessary since it's not real. i need no superficial conversation or condolences from anyone. but a below the surface heart to heart or checking in is always something i benefit from (and i engage in enough of those to keep balanced). and prayer, prayer is always remedy.

....but, i guess this is me still learning what it means to live in a city so far away from many of your loved ones. this is me still learning that though tough times without a significant person/other by your side can be emotionally taxing to extreme degrees, it's just another day, if you keep living. this is me still learning that we just never can tell how long our individual journey will be, so if it means flying across country for hundreds of dollars to spend just a few hours, yet it ends up being a significant moment/memory of your life as a whole, a life that's not guaranteed to be longer than a few years-- no matter how old you live to be, then it is worth the time and money. this is me still learning about the precious and complex elements of life.

i'm learning just how much life is a crash course.

often times there really is no dress rehearsal on this side.

As MJ said, THIS is it.

scene 11, act 31.

(or something like that.)

rest in the light, sunshyne.

2010-10-31T23:03:00.010-04:00

sunshyne

1980 - 2010

i was on the bus headed to dc for howard homecoming, enjoying the ride, listening to my kind of music, drifting in and out of sleep, literally reflecting on how lovely the sunshine was permeating the view of the horizon as we motored forward when my phone rang the first time. i noticed it was spencer, but since i was more than halfway sleep and on the bus, i didn't want to have a long conversation, so I didn't answer. i figured if it were important he'd leave a message and i'd call when i got off the bus, but there was no message so i kept gazing out into the sunlight. dozed some more. then my phone lit up again, this time, khyle. again i didn't answer but there was a message. i still didn't check it. but after a few mins, i thought it was strange that both spencer and khyle would call me from LA within minutes of one another... could their calls be related? was it urgent that i speak to them both at this moment? i sent a text back to them both saying that i was on a bus to dc asking what's up. spencer responded, "can you talk? can i call?" so i woke all the way up and dialed him back immediately.

he answered on the first ring, and did not beat around the bush.

"It's Sunshyne. She passed away today."

of course i asked him what he could possibly be talking about. couldn't really comprehend it. he said that she'd had a diabetic seizure that morning. i asked if he's sure she's gone. he said, "yeah, she's gone." my heart started beating so quickly and i asked for more details, which he couldn't provide other than one of her best friends and our mutual friend was a wreck. he said he and khyle were going to go be with her. we hung up and i called khyle immediately. "hey. what's going on?" he kinda says some things that amounted to confirming what spencer said. our friend, the beautiful Sunshyne, was gone. i asked if nikita knew, but they both had not been able to reach her. she was in DC for homecoming as well.

so, i hung up with khyle and called her. she said she'd just awakened and was getting ready to get dressed to go to up to the yard on Howard's campus. i said, sit down. she said she was sitting. and i just said it: Sunshyne passed away today. it was soooo surreal to be saying this. her response: i don't think i believe that. i said, believe it, honey. she asked what happened, i told her what little i got from spencer and khyle, she said she was going to call melva. so we got off the phone.

i sat there for a moment, still about an hour or more outside of dc, stunned. at this point, it didn't matter if i was having such intimate discussion on a public bus ride. i needed to talk. i called my mom, told her because knew Sunshyne as well. she was shocked with sorrow. i called Daddy next. he didn't remember her by face, but remembered me speaking of her in earlier years when i lived at home. i asked what a diabetic seizure is and how someone could pass away from one. he told me how when Gran Gran's sugar was too low, she'd go into a diabetic coma, so perhaps a seizure was caused by the opposite, and her sugar was too high. in our heart to heart we talked about a number of things.

when i asked how to make sense of this, he said there's nothing to make sense of when a person dies other than we will all pass that way. when i said that perhaps it is easier for people who have experienced a lot of death to accept such things, he said that it doesn't make it easier no matter how many times you go through it. he said even in Gran Gran being ill for so long and him being at peace at the fact that she is no longer suffering from her ailments, her passing was still a very difficult grieving period to go through. still is, i imagine. he said though, that as it says in scripture, the Lord knows the number of each of our days, so there is no passing away before you are supposed to. he mentioned how the day before he'd just reflected on how there's a dash between the 1925 and the 2010 on my grandmother's gravestone, which indicates that no matter how long you live, it is still a dash in time, just a moment, when it comes to reality of eternity. and furthermore, as Christians, it is certainly alright and appropriate to grieve, but we have the added hope of seeing our loved ones again in eternity who have passed away in Christ. we don't grieve with the hopelessness of the world, he said, believing that we are forever separated by death. the real tragedy, he reminded, is when a loved one dies never having accepted Christ and lived a life reflective of their loving relationship with God. all things i know, and things i think of when it comes to Shay Shay and Prince Jones, Gran Gran, Mommae, and Daddy Albert. and now, Sunshyne. i know i will see them again. but it's still so................ surreal. strange. unbelievable.

and still such a tragedy. as melva explained to me the next day, Sunshyne was about three months pregnant, with a baby boy i believe, and had developed gestational diabetes in her first pregnancy with her daughter, who is now two years old. she's been married for two or three years as well, and it appeared storybook. you know. she and her beloved seemed made for one another, he a youth pastor, she a mentor to youth girls teaching classes on purity. pictures of their wedding day reflect and ebony princess and ivory prince off to live an enchanted happily ever after. she was an extremely attractive girl, but being bred in north carolina, was the epitome of down home southern charm. she worked out often, running marathons, watching her diet. she was an actress getting commercials here and there, doing stage work. and with a new baby on the way, a precious toddler running around, and a husband who adored her as God's precious treasure, it seemed her entire life was to unfold for years to come. it seems SHE did everything right. Just like Shay Shay. THEY did -EVERYTHING- RIGHT there is to do. They loved God with their whole hearts, were the vision and role model for other women and girls, friends, etc. Model wives with coveted relationships with their spouses. Ministers for the youth with their husbands, doing the Lord's work. Sunshyne enjoyed motherhood for a couple of years longer than Shay, who passed when her baby boy was two weeks old, but they were both 30, and both died from complications related to pregnancy.

THIS is a horrible reality to face, for everyone involved. her husband and mother, God bless their hearts and comfort. i remember the days following Shay's passing and the things her husband would say in terms of the Lord preparing him for this moment, when she expressed that she was in pain and didn't know what was going on. he called paramedics but it took so long for them to come, he could see in her face that she was leaving here and the Lord was preparing him to be able to handle it. six months later, for whatever reasons that are still unclear to me, he disappeared with the baby boy, and her family has not seen him since he was six months old. i can't imagine the Lord told him to do THAT, but, what do I know. so............................ in this bad situation, i really am praying that the Lord will place people in sunshyne's husband's life to hold him up as he's weary with grief, that there will be mother replacements for the two year old baby girl, and that everyone is made whole who feels broken by this tragedy.

Though a tragedy.... everyone that knew her has been comforted by the fact that Sunshyne LOVED THE LORD, utterly and completely, more than herself and any other person; so, we are convinced she is doing better than any of us in this moment. ..........but still. this is pretty surreal.

i know there's supposed to be this whole school of thought

2010-10-25T02:48:00.002-04:00

that you shouldn't "care what people think" about you, however, in reality, i think in general it sucks just a bit (if not to great degrees) realizing that someone very well might not like you as much as you thought they did. and that doesn't pertain to the amorous kind of "like", crushes and loves and such, but like i said, in general, overall indication that someone who's feelings you regard's showing disinterest (or decreasing of such) in your overall value.

i don't know what made me think of that. actually i do. and i'm not bummed out. but, you know. still sucks, a bit.

anyway. back to these papers that, apparently, will not grade themselves.

crush:

2010-10-24T19:47:00.002-04:00

easy come, easy go.

love:

even with surgical removal, may never go away.

Just booked my first international trip to Europe!

2010-10-21T16:37:00.002-04:00

So, I'm finally headed to London. And maybe that's not such a BIG big deal since I have friends that bounce around the globe at whim and are in the UK as often as I am in Cali... And maybe it's all relative considering I that I meet people who are in awe that I go to LA so often, sometimes just for the weekend. I always explain that it's really simple... just book a ticket and go, as there are ALWAYS deals and ways to make it to Cali. But then again, I never have to worry about accomodations... which is probably why people just don't up and go to LA, and why I'm just getting around to making plans to go to London.

But, the point is, I'm going! I booked a ticket, using a voucher I acquired for giving up my seat the last time I was traveling from Cali back to NYC on an overbooked flight. So my flight to LDN will come to a total of $300 and some cents. Lower than what it is to fly cross country! And I'm really very excited. My friend Chaney is there. We've been friends since freshman year. We have been confidantes and supporters of one another, and have gotten to spend time in DC, LA and NYC. So he's been insisting for years that I come and visit him there. Plus, my younger 2nd cousin? Ben is there. His grandfather is my grandmother's younger brother, Uncle Cleo. And when I moved to NYC, I developed a relationship with him and his father, Cousin Clint, in New Jersey. Ben and I both lived in the city and would kick it from time to time, even though he was very busy with work as an investment banker and sometimes worked 90hrs a week as a recent college grad. The UK called with opportunities for career advancement with the Barclays bank, and thus, he's been living there for the past two or three years. He also has extended the invitation for me to come and visit anytime, and is looking forward to hosting me when I arrive.

So, I'm thinking of how to make the most of this first trip to Europe. I think since I'll be there for five days, I'll take at least two of those days and head to Amsterdam. It looks like the train ride is 2 hours, though I'm not sure what the cost is yet.. That'll take some converting of number my brain doesn't feel like sorting out right now... But I'm loving how easy and simple it's seeming to be able to start the continent hopping stage of my life!! 2011 is my year!! I am going to London, I plan to parlay that into Holland... I'd like to also visit Paris and West Africa. Right now fares to Paris are around $730. Very affordable!!

My mom called me to ask if I'd been watching the news and was aware that Americans are being advised against travel in Europe... well, no. I don't watch network news. I do, every few days, read the Google News aggregate to see what's going on in the country and world according to headlines... but perhaps I'll look into the BBC and Al Jazeerah to see what they think of Americans visit hotspots throughout the continent of Europe. Anyway, even if it's not the best time, I don't particularly know that there will be an increasingly GREAT time to visit different parts of the world... I wish I'd done so already and was able to already reflect on my world wide travels at this point in my life... but, I have to believe, NOW is a great a time to get started as ever!!!! (Well, in four months, anyway!!)

meanwhile regarding my 3am snack:

2010-10-16T02:41:00.003-04:00

red apples and natural peanut butter

is a combination the Lord

would be pleased with.

{yum}

Brilliant! Babies.

2010-10-16T02:02:00.004-04:00

I'm almost asking myself why I waited so long to see this, but I'm glad I watched tonight! This was such an insightful and entertaining look into how babies are conditioned throughout the world by simply adhering to traditional and popular customs. The Namibians, hands down, seem to answer on lock as to how to produce and rear peaceful, independent, happy offspring within their tribal haven ... while the Mongolians are neck and neck as runners up with happy babies running around the grasslands amongst the cattle and roosters sans clothed bottom. As for the American and Japanese babies... I kinda felt sorry for them a little bit, considering the "advancement" of these two cultures and the way children are raised accordingly.

But, by all means, I'm glad I finally watched it. I'm also glad that I am no closer to actually wanting one of these of my own, but I did feel warm and giggly at the precious moments, but who wouldn't!

PS SHOUT OUT to the big brother of the Mongolian baby... I hope that baby whoops his @** when he gets big enough to get that brother back!

pick up your crazy heart, and give it one more try...

2010-10-16T00:03:00.001-04:00

......this ain't no place for the weary kind, this ain't no place to lose your mind, this ain't no place to fall behind, pick up your crazy heart and give it one more try........

(i hum this so often, without even having the song in my collection, that i thought i'd give it a home.)

I LOVE MY HAIR TOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2010-10-14T03:08:00.001-04:00

I've always loved the song from these verses:

2010-10-12T03:52:00.002-04:00

numbers 22 and 23:

Lamentations 3:22-24 (New International Version)

²² Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.

²³ They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.

²⁴ I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him."

²⁵ The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him;

²⁶ it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the LORD.

A friend reminded me

2010-10-12T01:10:00.003-04:00

that when you are feeling like there is so much that you want or feel like you can't change or have any control over, or just feel emotionally taxed from the world of circumstance we exist in, to do as Jesus did in the Garden of Gethsemane and pray that the despite what you desire in that moment or at that point in your life, you want the Lord's will to be done. And in asking the Lord to do his will, and simple believing that this will take place, circumstances will begin to reform as a result. And that ultimately, that we are to seek first the kingdom of God, and in doing so all other things will be added unto us.

It's not that I didn't know it. I totally do. But, sometimes circumstances and emotions are blinding enough to cause you to overlook these simple truths.

So, I am reminded, and I am thankful.

"...things are never as bad as they seem..."

2010-10-11T18:45:00.000-04:00

i really feel good about

2010-10-11T18:17:00.002-04:00

pulling off my brother's 40th birthday in a way that will be a happy memory for him. And without my even knowing it, the party ended up being a wonderful celebration for one of his boy's who turned 40 this year as well, a day or two before him. I had no idea this dude spent his birthday by himself in a very low key way. I'm not sure if it was because of choice or circumstance, but I looked at his facebook page today and realized that he told someone that his boy's sister threw "them" a birthday party and he had such a good time... It made me smile, because you never really know what you are doing for other people that ends up being significant to them. I may have my moments when I'm consumed with whatever I'm feeling in that moment, but I'm thankful to be able to look past myself and look at the bigger picture. It's dawned on me that two people I consider friends are so self consumed and wrapped up in themselves that, it's really becoming hard to engage them on a regular basis. One, I hadn't talked to him in about a month as we've both been busy. He called me a few weeks ago and I missed the call, and today I decided to go on and hit him back. He talked about himself and what he's doing the entire 7 minute conversation. Yet, in between he'd ask me what was going on, how was I doing, what guy I'm spending my time with now... But before I could really even answer any of those question with any substance, within the beat, he was talking about himself again. It was painful to listen to because he doesn't even realize it. So, I decided it wasn't even worth it to try to tell him anything, I told him that I was glad things were well, and that I'd hoped to see him soon. The other person, I'm learning that she processes information so differently than I do, and many other people. I don't even feel like going into details, but the I have a feeling our friendship as it is may be turning a corner that leads to a bit of a separation or break, even. Which is funny, cause we all know that I'm not the person who knows how to make a clean break from people. So, maybe that's not what's coming.... But, it's just interesting watching life unfold right now.

This was a happy post though, when I began, so I'll bring it full circle. It is really interesting watching life unfold right now, but I'm really excited and pleased at writing these new chapters with my brother. His life is good, and that is priceless.

i wish

2010-10-11T07:18:00.002-04:00

i was doing a little bit better right now.

for once, i'm not worried about money.

but, the weight of everything else emo is pressing.

sometimes, anyway.

i'm so glad it will be 72 degrees today,

even if i will be in the house asleep for most of it.

i didn't sleep last night after editing 57 pages of document and watching two Grey's Anatomy episodes. In the second episode, one of the circumstances warranted the statement:

"Love isn't enough anymore..." and the person left, though acknowledging that she and the dude still loved one another. The circumstance was just too much for her and she left. That's a bit of an interesting thing to filter and rationalize. Anyway, it's a show. It's written, I know. Life is not scripted, but the scripts are based on real life experiences. .......well...

I'm... tired isn't the word.... heavyladen, perhaps.

that is my problem right now.

i was just gonna watch Fred Astaire and Cyd Carisse until I drifted off. but my eyes are already closing.

and maybe my dreams this time will be a lovely musical

starring me in Paris headlining a cabaret with Audrey Hepburn or Julie Andrews.

i mean, if i'm gonna conjure up scenes that will never actually happen, they might as well be with my favorite entertainers... maybe i'll drift into a scene of the Cosby Show this time, or Living single, or Fraser.... and have a really pleasent dream with a laugh track.

....................and when i wake up, it may be time for

a Nora Ephron film. I think I'm overdue.

i wish i was more regular

2010-10-10T03:11:00.000-04:00

sometimes....

whatever that means.

.....................

yeah.

Dream (10/4/10)

2010-10-05T00:45:00.003-04:00

This one I attribute to the having stuffed my face full of Tara's bountiful cooking on Sunday night. You know, kinda like when Heathcliff Huxtable ate the meatball sandwich before it was bedtime, and wound up having a wild, muppet caper of a dream.... Yeah, like that, only there were no muppets (well other than myself):

I was sitting in my room, in bed kind of sleep or maybe just resting, reading or something of that nature. It wasn't my room in this house on Stuyvesant Avenue. It was a smaller bedroom of an actual house, and it had french doors that opened into a backyard patio garden. The doors were open though screened, as it was a sunny spring day, and so a warm breeze filled the room. And then, entering from the garden, a group of people started coming into the room. I was so startled though I didn't feel at danger. They weren't intruders and seemed to know what they were doing coming into my room. They slowly filed in, and it seems I figured out they were actors because they started acting out a scene, right there in my bedroom. I don't remember what the scene was specifically. (Considering that the night before I'd gone to see a reading of eight or so monologues with people confessing secrets to the audience, it feels like this was the nature of the scene going on my room.) At first I tried to get someone's attention to ask why the heck they were in my room, of all places, doing theatre. Though none of them looked familiar they felt familiar, so I became fully engrossed in the scene.

I can't determine how long this went on... because it wasn't a long dream, but I know sat on the edge of my bed, slightly confused yet captivated by these actors in my room. The doors were still open, and I didn't notice the next person to slip into the room as my attention was focused on the strange scene taking place. And then, I felt his presence close behind me and get closer as he began to kiss me allowing me to fully recognize who he was. When I did realize who it was, the tears started to stream, overwhelmed with surprise, joy and, most of all, satisfaction. The satisfaction came from the look in his eyes as they mirrored exactly what I was feeling - and have been feeling for years. It was also a satisfaction of the me in the dream having moved on from this person, yet he had somehow moved back around to me. In the dream, it wasn't an illusion that this was the first time I could see how sure and deliberate his actions were in that moment. Within seconds, he was on his knee in front of me.

I woke up before the rest of the scene unfolded into some kind of precious romantic proposal. I woke up but continued lying in my warm bed thinking about what I'd just experienced in my dream. It was only a dream and therefore didn't excite me, nor did it make me sad. I moreso wondered why on earth I would conjure up such a scenario, and was a bit disappointed that I would [still] be dreaming about this person, especially in that capacity. Because I already know this is not a foreshadowing of anything of this sort taking place with this person. And that's something I purpose to accept more and more each day, week, and month of my current life.

At the very least, it was a warm, sweet representation of the kind of experience of love I believe in, even if never have experienced. I saw a scene in my life that has yet to happen, yet at some point can be a reality -the circumstance, if not the details.

I'm not waiting for a proposal from anyone. I don't even have the kind of connection with anyone at this point in my life that would yield a man asking for my hand in marriage. I think it's fly to be a freebird right now, and I swallow the melancholy of being companionless while chasing it with the enchantment of weaving the wonderful life I want without answering to or for a significant other.

I guess you start to dream about proposals, or being married to someone, or having youngins (which I've not dreamed about the latter two, or at least I don't remember, Thank God) once you reach a certain point in your life, whether they are something you have a strong, active desire for or not. But, I suppose, in the same way that I accept and re-accept....... and re-accept... that significant-other-type of love is just not available for me right now, I understand that such a dream is just that: a dream that cannot, will not, and should not be attributed to anything going on in my reality.

(....feelings of any kind of destiny-related connection to any one man, notwithstanding.)

If you were a 90's hip-hop artist

2010-10-03T04:21:00.002-04:00

And you met a girl at a party late one night in Brooklyn, would you make a big deal to make sure she knew that you were THAT mc from THAT group if she didn't recognize you?

:D yeah...... to be a fly on the wall of my life!

So I was hanging out with my homegirl at her husband's party (...or was I at my homeboy's party hanging out with his wife? anyway...) and there was a guy there with the couple of other people I knew... We said hello earlier, then as the night went on and I kept getting my dancing machine on, my homegirl suggested I dance with ole boy. (Actually, she was trying to keep me away from this other fella who was vying for my attention.) So, of course I oblige and in the meantime of dancing, we start chitchatting away. Some kind of way he asked me how old I thought he was, and I threw out, thinking surely I have no idea, that he was 42. He was like, Why did you say that? because it turns out that he was, infact, 42! After asking me what I thought the Lotto numbers were (hee hee, funny!) we talked some more and I aksed him his name again. He was like, "Wait, how old are you?" and I told him I am 31. So he used that to assess that I just MAY know who he was based on the height of his career taking place during my teenage years... and that was.... cute... a bit presumptuous or even arrogant, maybe, but cute because I did recognize the name. So we talked a little bit more, but I knew I'd have to come home and actually Youtube one of their songs so that I could put a frame of reference with the name..... So, here's to the guy from the 90's group Nice'n'Smooth who really tried to holla tonight, and who I gave my number, ..............just for fun! (I don't know if he's still trying to be a rapper, I don't know if I'll see him again- especially on a one on one basis-, I don't know if he even cares... but, it was randomly cool to meet him!)

(....sigh) How strong love is.

2010-10-02T09:53:00.009-04:00

One day................ unless this doesn't exist in reality.

(because it does exist in my mind.)

but.

if it does..

one day.

(acknowledges mellow-dramatic feelings related to this song,

somewhat in the vein of a brimming tear,

turns over to go back to sleep.)

---------------------------------------------------

If I were that sun up there

I would glow with love, oh darlin', everywhere

I'd even be the moon when the sun goes down

So you could see, oh darlin I want you to see that I'm still around...

If I were a weeping willow

I would cry til I drowned in my own tears
Just so you could go swimming as long as you would live
I'd even be the rainbow after all my tears were gone
Then I'd wrap you up in my colors, oh baby, just to keep you warm....

If I were a star, I would shine so far away

you see, I don't want you stumbling around in the darkness

I'll light your darkness, as you travel alone

If you said you needed me baby,

Here's what I'd do

I would do without anything in the world for you baby, yes I would

just so I could be there with you

If you said you needed money,

ain't no limit to what I'd do

I would walk eight days a week for you baby

If you told me that seven days wouldn't do, oh baby...

Ain't that loving you?

That's how strong my love is.

mai.cannon read this and thought of me:

2010-09-21T22:19:00.003-04:00

“I must learn to love the fool in me the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries.” -Theodore Isaac Rubin

Isn't that so appropriate for the wacky walking nerve ending that I am?

smiles

2010-09-20T03:05:00.003-04:00

i'm listening to original musical compositions

of a brilliant mind

who recently, out of the clear blue

decided to send me a note saying

he thought i was pretty

and he ended up with a silly new friend.

and, it makes me smile.

all of it.

...yay.

Even the sun moves on....

2010-09-13T22:47:00.003-04:00

I played the fool before

Stared at the sun 'til it burned out my eyesight

Blind but a man must move on

No time for regrets

Who lives in rehearse

Rehearsed the times you were here

Through other ladies I drove myself crazy

Wondering why they weren't you

You may think I'm a fool

But still I did it

All for love

(When you)Stayed in the sun too long

Even the sun moves on

All for what

All for love

I'm a seeker in search of a dreamer (dreamer)

She dreams, she dreams, she lays her head down and dreams

Or maybe it's me this time?

But baby lets live

(let's live... let's live... let's live...)

Or maybe it's me this time

Yeah, I played the fool before

Stared at the sun 'til it burned out my eyesight

Blind but a man must move on

No time for regrets

Who lives in rehearse

Rehearsed the times you were here

Through other ladies I drove myself crazy

Wondering why they weren't you

You may think I'm a fool

But still I did it

All for love

Stayed in the sun too long

Even the sun moves on

I did it for?

I did it for me and you

Stayed in the sun too long

Even the sun moves on

Stayed in the sun too long

Even the sun moves on

.bilal.

almost there.

2010-09-07T01:35:00.001-04:00

original:

ill j5 montage remix version:

Groove on, MJ.

2010-09-02T00:56:00.001-04:00

on certain days

2010-09-01T11:03:00.005-04:00

much like this one, when i think i'm very clear minded and level headed, without the emotional magnification of pms, just being me on a quiet day, i sit with certain thoughts about my life, things that i am unhappy with, perhaps unsure about, the things that have disappointed me... they haunt me a little bit, and I try to figure out what it all means.

what does it mean that i am uninterested in having a child and think that i may never really want to?

why would i spend four years madly in love with a person who refused to commit to me?

how did i become the girl that a friend tells one week before his wedding that he loves her and is unsure he should marry, only to go on and get married the following week?

how long to i have to be sad about the people that i've lost in the past two years?

when will i figure out how to get my ideas produced and into the marketplace?

why haven't i traveled the world?

i think about in the event of my untimely demise (though i don't wish for such, i understand that untimely demises occur every day without notice) how i'd like to be cremated and spread across the waters of the african continent....

..and how this song, Sunny, should definitely be played during the memorial service...

....and how i'd like a service similar to Jim Henson's:

"As per Henson's wishes, no one in attendance wore black, and a Dixieland jazz band finished the service by performing "When The Saints Go Marching In". Harry Belafonte sang "Turn the World Around," a song he had debuted on The Muppet Show, as each member of the audience waved, with a puppeteer's rod, an individual, brightly-colored foam butterfly.^[31]^[32] Later, Big Bird (performed by Caroll Spinney) walked out onto the stage and sang Kermit the Frog's signature song, "Bein' Green".^[33]

In the final minutes of the two-and-a-half hour service, six of the core Muppet performers sang, in their characters' voices, a medley of Jim Henson's favorite songs, culminating in a performance of "Just One Person" that began with Richard Hunt singing alone, as Scooter. "As each verse progressed," Henson employee Chris Barry recalled, "each Muppeteer joined in with their own Muppets until the stage was filled with all the Muppet performers and their beloved characters."^[33] The funeral was later described by LIFE as "an epic and almost unbearably moving event." The image of a growing number of performers singing "Just One Person" was recreated for the 1990 television special The Muppets Celebrate Jim Henson and inspired screenwriter Richard Curtis, who attended the London service, to write the growing-orchestra wedding scene of his 2003 film Love Actually.^[34]"

okay, maybe not THAT, but it just sounds like the most legendary, whimsical memorial service ever. so, i want people to experience that kind of whimsy as they celebrate my life. A couple of cameo appearances by muppets might be really cool...

yeah, wedding, i don't think i want one of those either. i've been saying it for years, but i kinda believe it now. (that's assuming i find the passion to visit madly-in-love again in the next ten years and am issued a proposal along the journey.)

and i wonder if all of this means i'm depressed, or if i just take the time to think about these things instead of pushing them to the side or saying it doesn't matter....

anyway.

it's a very quiet day.

about two years ago

2010-08-26T01:39:00.000-04:00

...I encouraged a friend of mine who had an opportunity to leave the country for a few months that he should definitely go if he thought it was going to help him get over a broken heart. Within two days he was in Morocco.

I'm starting to think that I will be better of leaving NYC and venturing off into another part of the world in hopes that it will aid in giving my broken heart a break.

Maybe Paris? Or West Africa.

(Sigh) something to look into.

Meanwhile, dc awaits. Show in a few hours. Yay.

Straws

2010-08-21T17:20:00.001-04:00

I am reaching a point where a number of last straws are being placed on the camel back of the circumstances I face with fellas.

All in the name of growth, peace, and eventually a love that will prevail with the man I am meant to be with. whoever that lucky chap may be. if ever i start feeling like i want to meet him.

Simultaneously

2010-08-04T03:34:00.001-04:00

joyful and mournful.

when will the sadness go away?

when will the good times come to stay?

ah. life.

In the wake of full disclosure:

2010-07-29T00:49:00.005-04:00

(Well, more full than I've ever received)

It is often at our lowest points, emotionally perhaps, that one finds the connections that are meant to last, for a lifetime perhaps. Albeit love or mere companionship, it's the person/people you connect with in that moment that draw the truest experiences that make life worth it for you. In that, you shouldn't make yourself or make others to feel like the time spent was out of selfish convenience on either's part. It is a narrow reduction and diminishing of the experience in the worst way. It's offensive to the other person who experienced the moments as well. It's very glass half empty.

(Sigh.)

In other news, I learned how to drive a stickshift today. Of course I have no idea when I'll get to do it again. But I did it.

...melancholy'ish summer, carry on.

Yes I can can!

2010-07-15T04:03:00.002-04:00

Good God Almighty is right.... I sho' wish I could'a been a part of these sangin' sistas!!! And can dress to boot!! ..dancin' and carrying on!! I LOVE LOVE LOVE IT!!!

I like this.

2010-07-03T06:37:00.003-04:00

Degree Subject Intro: Sociolinguistics

Linguistics - the scientific study of language - assesses aspects such as grammar, semantics and phonetics, alongside its cultural origins and development. It is a hotly debated subject, bringing poets, philosophers and neurologists into dispute over the way we speak.

A linguistics degree is useful if you intend to teach abroad, work in publishing or the civil service. Your skills will also be appreciated in marketing, advertising, industry and public sector organizations.

I'm doing so due-diligence to see if there's a home for me in SocioLing.

juxtapositioning

2010-06-28T15:38:00.002-04:00

of emotional states is very taxing and causes streams of tears.

i doubt anyone quite understands the degree to which my extreme highs are followed by swinging lows.

i guess it just for me to know.

Most recent weird dream... that wasn't really weird.

2010-06-26T17:16:00.003-04:00

i had the weirdest dream today. let's see if i can remember it:

i dreamt that i was some kind of way responsible for or involved in the logistics of a band playing. it was a band like nate's Five Spot band, where i know all the guys, only it wasn't nate nor could i recognize any of the guys to be musicians i currently know. so anyway, they're playing on the stage, and it's a large venue kinda like the hollywood bowl, and i'm sitting in the special box seats that aren't terribly far from the stage, maybe with someone (some people) but could've been by myself..

Anyway, here's where it gets strange. So Sean Puffy Combs comes over to the box where I'm sitting carrying a guitar in a case, and he's like, "Hey you mind if I go up and vibe out with the band?" And I'm like, "Well, can you play?" and he's like, "I'm learning..." So, I'm like, "Okay, sure, go on up and let's see what you got!" And this is Puffy, now, but he doesn't have the whole Puffy- I'm the shiz- swag...

So, anyway, he goes up and greets the guys and they're looking like, "What is he about to do?" and he pulls out his guitar and joins in on the song the band starts playing. AND he knows his stuff! Then in the middle of the song he plays the illest solo I ever heard! It was soooo beautiful and dope, and the whole stadium is up on their feet cheering cause he's just going IN!!

So by the time he gets finished, I'm just sitting there like, "Wow.... did I just hear that??" And he comes back over with this grin like, "So what'dya think?" And we vibed for a minute and he was so humble and sincere and funny, and we seemed to really connect for those few minutes. then he went back over to the stage to get back in with the band...

And as he walked away I was like, "Omg, I totally have a crush on Puffy.....!"

and then I woke up.

How STRANGE is that. Because I totally do NOT have a crush on Puffy.

let go.

2010-06-18T04:33:00.001-04:00

this jumped into my spirit just now.

i love that

2010-06-13T04:42:00.002-04:00

my friend just named her new blog ohMaiSeoul.. it reminded me of a worship song i love that says:

(I will)

Bless the Lord

oh my soul,

and all that is within me

bless his holy name.

For he has done great things

(hallelujah)

He has done great things

(hallelujah)

He has done great things

bless his holy name.

(I will)

Bless the Lord

oh my soul,

and all that is within me

bless his holy name.

I've always loved that song.

So I'm singing it now so that I won't feel so blah&forlorn.

i haven't fully unpacked.

2010-06-13T04:09:00.002-04:00

i think part of the reason, psychologically speaking, is that right now i feel like if i fully unpack my life and settle into this new apartment, it will increase the chances that i will remain settled into this apartment by myself five years from now, no closer to my dreams or my love. i feel so wounded right now, more than i have in a long time. i don't know what it is that's overwhelmed me in the moment. too many love stories and sitcoms and romantic comedies with happy endings that dictate in my mind the way it should be in my life right now. too many wedding invitations (so far i've been to one out of four this year) and time spent with friends content with their relationships. i'm not a jealous person, and i'm not envious of anyone's relationship with the next person, don't want nobody else's man... but i am overwhelmed right now with the sense of not belonging to anyone, actually feeling completely rejected, when i want to belong to someone, the one i love. i very much have the "oh lover where can you be" blues. and what any of this has to do with me not unpacking, i have no idea. makes no sense, and i know i have to get it done. but i just don't want to be in this apartment another five years by myself. we get along well, myself and i, she- my self-keeps me quite entertained, strange being that i am. but this immense capacity to share love just seems waisted without a significant other. but that's not altogether true either. i love God with all of my heart, and i have to trust that even if i am here another five with myself, he will be with me and I will be okay. but i've seen the look of loneliness amongst individuals who love God but have no significant other. i don't like that look and want no parts of it, even as i see it within myself right now regardless of the number of family and friends i have around. there was one person who did it for me and i'd hoped to eventually build a home with that person. so i don't feel the urge to unpack my boxes here, even though i will. because i have to be logical right now.

i can't even determine if any of these ramblings are even making sense. but it's coming from a very real place.

(sigh.)

in other news, i really did enjoy myself tonight with my cousin and her girls.

How often do you ask yourself,

2010-06-13T03:52:00.002-04:00

"How could I be......such......a fool for love?"

(the regular nights are pretty easy, but for every wonderful night i have out, when i get home i'm so sad... i just really miss the love i thought i had. i really miss the companion i definitely had.)

(Love doesn't just go away) Letters to Juliet

2010-06-11T00:52:00.004-04:00

I went to see Letter to Juliet today and absolutely loved it. It got me to wondering whether or not romantic comedies are based on true love stories, and the age old question of whether art imitates life or life, art. Regardless, I continue to breath them in, and continue to believe that like many of my favorite movies I'll find my own happily ever after amidst the girl-meets-boy, girl-loses-boy, girl-and-boy-find-everlastinglove-together-again. So, Letters to Juliet has quickly moved to the top of my list of favorites and I can't wait to experience it again (and again).

So, here we have this story of a 70-something year old British woman who met and fell in love with an Italian boy from the countryside fifty years ago when they were 15 years old. There was an opportunity for them to run off when they were teenagers, but, as she wrote in a letter to Juliet Capulet when she was still a teenager (because young ladies with woes of Love write to the statue of Juliet in Verona Italy), she never showed up to the locations where they were to meet and always questioned whether she had mistakenly lost the love of her life.

Fast forward fifty years and the main character of the movie, Sophie, finds the letter and responds back to the woman, Claire, who shows up with her grandson upon receiving the letter (written on behalf of Juliet) to see if she can find the man she lost and determine if their love abounds. As the charming tale unfolds, Claire, her grandson and Sophie uncover the beloved Lorenzo, and love-their love- in fact, has stood the test of time. Fifty years later, after marrying other spouses, having families, becoming widow and widower, and carrying on with their lives, Claire and Lorenzo reclaim their love for one another and commit to spending the rest of the golden years in wedded matrimony. Very happily ever after scenario, especially since Sophie and grandson Charlie end up together by the end of the movie as well.

I love this story, though, because I've often told the love of my life that I'll be an old lady, 78 years old, talking about how I sooo loved and adored this one young man back in my younger days in New York City. I've liked to believe that eventually I will get over the fact that we will not be together, but there is a part of me that cannot be convinced that I'll really get over the fact that I have to move on without him. Even as I purpose to.

So when I see stories like this, it brings hope. Not (NECESSARILY) hope that he'll come around and decide that he wants to share his life with me, but you know, it just gives ME hope.

And an added measure of happily ever after comes full circle as I learn that the two actors who played Claire and Lorenzo, Vanessa Redgrave and Franco Nero, actually began a love affair back in 1967, had a son in 1969, separated and got married to other significant others and had children, only to come back to the love they sewed with one another so many years ago when they married as seniors in 2006. A real life Claire and Lorenzo story. Not only that, but this story, their story reminded me even more of the returned love story of Old Van who I met last summer and who told me of a similar set of circumstances between him and the woman he was in love with back when they were teenagers in the 40s...

So.... (sigh) I'm not saying that I hope to be an old lady when I finally get the satisfaction of satisfied love.

I'm just sayin....

My new home is peace.

2010-06-05T13:44:00.004-04:00

I slept well last night in the new apartment. Don't know if it was because I was delirious and tired beyond belief at 5:13am when I finally zonked out, or if was that the place finally felt like it was ours.

I'm diggin it. Flaws and all. Definitely something to get used to, being down here.

But, it's home now, and I get to nurture it with my love and mai-isms....

so, cheers.

It's a little scary

2010-06-01T00:53:00.001-04:00

moving into a new place. I mean, I am welcoming it; it is certainly a good time for a fresh start.

But, there's something about going into a new place, especially a new OLD place, that takes some getting used to.

They [my housemates] have officially vacated the premises. Apartment empty, keys on the counter. Syonara, nice knowing ya. So, I decided to go down into the empty apartment and just walk around and take in the feel all by my lonesome.

That was................... creepy. I've been in there a number of times, and have always felt warm and welcomed; felt envious that the apartment down there was so much "nicer" than mine upstairs. So much larger, "so much space in the master bedroom!" Loved to visit and sit a spell.

But to go down there just now, and walk around that biiiiggg ole empty apartment, void of any personality and warmth, flaws sticking out like a sore thumb and or nuisance, walking from room to room trying to gauge the vibe of the place, it was..... weird. (In a different way than I am.)

Now, this acknowledgement is in no way to discount the excitement I do have in moving down there, and the anticipation of nurturing a new home from scratch with my brother. But jeez. I didn't feel easy. I was nervous (and a little melancholy). Nervous that the flaws of the apartment would somehow deter my excitement of having wanted to move down there for so long. Nervous that my brother and I living together would end up being more problematic than beneficial. Nervous that I'd love living with him, and then before long he will be ready to move on with his life. (After all, a brother and sister cannot live together forever, and he very well may find a love and move on before I ever find a love to settle down with.) Nervous that it's not entirely a bright idea to completely refurnish an apartment with new EVERYTHING, even if we can afford it. Nervous that all the old furniture coming down into the new place would be just as problematic as buying new furniture, but for completely different reasons. Nervous that I'll possibly get a cat when I've never wanted to own a cat... Nervous that there will be a mice problem if I don't, when I still am not altogether comfortable with the idea of owning a pet (even if I don't have to take care of it by myself).

I was just nervous. So glad that Daddy will be spending the first week and a half with me, I thought. I couldn't imagine having to be in a new place all by myself for the majority of the time. (I'm trying to remember how I felt after my mom left to go back home once I was all moved in.) I don't know when my brother will be moving in, and maybe I'm making myself sick about this move for no reason, but...... I'm not happy about it right now. But I am. I'm torn.

I'm happy to move into the new place, start a new chapter of my life (which, by the way, I have no idea what it will entail), but I'm just sick about leaving my home for the past five years. The same way I cried when I left DC for the last time after graduation, I feel that sense of closing of a chapter. No, I'm not crying, but this apartment has been a big part of my life. (Maybe I'm stating the obvious.)

This apartment was my haven and sanctuary. It was, it is my museum to all things ME. It has my personality written all over it. The antique furniture that was given to me and has suited me well. The pictures, flyers, cards and mementos on the wall indicate what I've experienced throughout the years. The idiosyncrasies that I hate, I know how to deal with. It's never too quiet, because I know the place and it's completely peace. I am comfortable to sleep, dance or play however I like in here. I've not had too many friends over, but the love of my life has spent many hours, days, weeks, years here; even if he never resided here with me we've had so many good times in this apartment and I feel like the memories of our ill-fated relationship have a home here.

The very first time I set foot in this apartment, I knew it was for me. And I've never doubted that from all the time I've spent in here.

But the apartment downstairs. I don't know. I guess this is what cold feet feels like. I mean, it's just an apartment. I'm not marrying it. I won't be there forever, I don't even have a one-year lease... but when I move into a place, I intend to stay a while. I do intend to stay a while. So perhaps knowing that I have that intention straight up, then whatever is waiting for me down there will have work within the framework of "THIS IS MY NEW HOME PERIOD" and it is what I've chosen. I guess kinda like when you say "I'm marrying you, and divorce is not an option," I feel like I want to declare that I'm moving down there, and I'm not moving again until it's into a home with my name on the deed.

And I am declaring that, because I hate moving. And this time I have the unfortunate responsibility to sift through and pack up my whole life by myself. You never feel more alone/single than when it's time for you to do something that you really need help with, and there's no one around or available and willing. But, that's a whole nother story. But since I've barely put a dent into this project (as my mother would call it: project), I should end this and get back to sorting and packing (in between shredding and tossing). I pray that I get finished sooner rather than later. AND perhaps this will be a lesson in how not to keep so many things when I move down into the next apartment. But I'm a sentimental packrat, so there's always justification in my mind for keeping something as opposed to tossing it out. (All the more reason why I need someone here helping me along with the process.)

(sigh.) I just keep reminding myself that all of this is a necessary evil to the blessing waiting on the other side. Growing pains, the rain clears the clouds for the sun. The darkest part of the night before day break... All of that.

That must be what this is.

(okay. back to work.)

it's amazing

2010-05-31T03:04:00.003-04:00

how melancholy you can feel after having had a perfect day spent with great cheer and camaraderie. i've lost the most cherished companion i had at this point in my life.

and no matter how much anyone says regarding

the necessity of moving on,

i. am. sad.

rightnow.

(and i have no idea how long this will last

though i pray it's not the rest of my life.)

(sigh)

(sleep.)

yeah, i'm willing to take this ride again.

2010-05-21T10:36:00.003-04:00