Adjusting Without Settling

Although we all know I'm not in a place where I can fit a beau into my life on a full time basis right now, it doesn't mean that I sit at home at night watching movies and TV shows on Netflix.

Okay, maybe most nights that's what it means, but I still have a semblance of a social life, and every once in a while even *I* go out on a date. Yes, a date. Pick your damn jaw up off the ground.

Now, remember THIS post, where I described my perfect man? And THIS one, where I compared men to real estate and let the world know I wouldn't compromise? Right. Well I kind of maybe sorta perhaps realized I had to eat my words... just a tad.

SHUT. UP.

So, I took another stab at my list to see if there was any wiggle room, if what I wrote off as a deal breaker was really, truly a deal breaker or if my current "situation" was enough to make me happy right now. I mean, not with height because that is a definite deal breaker (all dudes 5'10" and below, please step off the line, thank you.) but other stuff, maybe. Except... yeah... I'm making concessions with height but for some reasons it's not a big deal anymore...

And ethnicity. While I still have this undeniable and unwavering hot, steamy, lusty attraction to Black, Caribbean & West Indian men, and they will ALWAYS get first dibs at my Jaded goodies, I recently met an Asian dude that piqued my interest. Shocking, right?!?! Like, for real- who'd a thunk that shit? Asian!!

And education level. I was a total die-hard stickler for wanting a dude with as many degrees as I had, but you know what? As long as dude isn't STOOPIT and isn't intimidated by my scholarly ambitions, it's okay if he felt college wasn't for him. The caveat here, however, is that he still needs to be working in or towards his chosen career, whatever that may be. And he still needs to be well-read... a self-taught man can be very very sexy. Blue collar workers are welcomed to holla at me, just don't be crass about it. And bring your uniform (ROAR!).

And location. I suppose dude doesn't have to live RIGHT in Brooklyn for me to date him. Besides, while hanging out in Park Slope I realized Mr. Baseball and The Haitian live two blocks from each other, and the Trini Rasta lives just three blocks from K&N's hairdresser. I think it's time I date outside my borough...

Basically, this post is a long, drawn out way of saying: you were right, I was wrong. My Mr. Perfect checklist went STRAIGHT out the window and I went with my gut instead.

Congratulations, smart asses.

I hate you all.

*smooches...without making any definitive statements*
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so don't even ask, wankers!

This Is Why I'm Hot...

The following is based on a phone conversation with a male friend:

HIM: So what are you doing?

ME: Lying on the couch resting my uterus.

HIM: You know what? This conversation is over...

*smooches...wondering why dudes get so squeamish about menstruation*
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it's a natural, biological function that every woman, EVEN YOUR MOMMA, goes through. accept it and move on!

I Recently Had A Birthday You Know

Cathi & Nina came down from MA, Rich came up from GA, I got to see my Mike & Evelyn (and she brought the COOLEST party props with her!!) and Minnie came w/Logan and of course the Blogging Ladies, as well as a bunch of other most awesomely awesome people!!

A lot of you were sorely missed but you know I'm easy like Sunday morning- I won't hold it against you.

It pretty much lasted all weekend. As in the entire LONG weekend! From Friday's last minute meet up at Bar Reis in the Slope to Monday evening at BAM's Dance Africa street festival.

And it went a little something like this:



























PS- I'm writing this post from rehab. My liver and kidneys pressed aggravated assault charges against me but instead of jail time the judge sent me to Promises. Lindsay says hi.

*smooches...wishing you had all been there*
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and thank you to all the lovely, beautiful people that did make it out but weren't in photos... I had so much fun! I can't even thank you enough for making this entire weekend just sooooo special for me!! I love all of you people for real!!!

A Writer's Life (Re-visited)

(To read the original post this is built from, click here.)

Anyone can put words on a page; but a writer puts words on a page that you want to read.

And no matter how much I try to fight it, how hard I turn my nose up at, it's what I want to be forever: a writer.

So okay, I had my tantrum and said I wanted out of this career choice but I've since taken some time to reconcile with my first love. The Voices and I then came to the conclusion that it isn't writing that we hate, it's the business of writing. The hustling for a by-line. The hoping wishing praying for an agent. For that $40,000 advance. For Momma Oprah to choose your baby as her book month selection. Writing query letters. Interviewing celebrities for pennies on the dollar. Writing other people's words and never getting credit for it just because you need to pay the rent. That's what I have a problem with; not writing itself.

But the business of writing is killing my joy for my craft. Or rather, I'm allowing the business of writing to kill my joy for my craft, and I don't know how to fix that.

I don't usually speak of my job on here for fear of being fired if my boss ever finds this blog but fuck it- if that happens he'd be doing me a favor.

Monday thru Friday I go to work at a boutique public relations firm in the city. So I go to this job, where our clients include labor unions and business coalitions, and basically my job is to write for these clients, AS these clients, so that their target audience will support their particular mission. You know how you send a little money to, let's say, PETA, and then they send you all sorts of communications: emails, newsletters, post cards, etc., with informative articles that deal with animals and how great they are and why you should protect them? Right. I write stuff like that... just an endless stream of persuasive essays that I can't even claim because it's not really mine- it's the client's.

I also have to help write opinion editorials and letters to the editors for clients. So when you read that section of your newspaper and see a letter there from some bigwig CEO, chances are someone like me wrote that for him and all HE did was have his secretary read it over and sign his name to it.

Some of you out there might have a hard time wondering what is so bad about what I do. Well, besides the low wages I'm paid, you have to understand that as an artist and THE MASTER OF FINE ARTS, having to hand over my words to someone else attacks my ego. I have NO by-lines through this job. No one outside my office knows that I've written countless articles, newsletters, etc for these various clients. And us writers are some vain motherfuckers! We want our name out there. We want people to know how great we are with a pen, so life as a ghostwriter is just the saddest thing I could ever imagine for myself.

You also have to take into account that in public relations, what you write has to be laid out in a way that makes the client look good. But what happens when your client ISN'T good or ISN'T on the side you would choose to be on? Then what? This is the dilemma I deal with on the regular. Sometimes I write stuff that really makes me feel just dirty and hypocritical because under different circumstances I'd NEVER write such things. Yet, there I am Monday thru Friday doing just that.

So given all this introspection I've done while away from blogger, The Voices and I decided that we want to put words on a page that hold people's attention, that keeps them wanting more, that accentuates our literary genius, and have concluded that ghostwriting for a PR firm is not going to bring us the joy we so desperately crave.

We have set a deadline of August 31st; we no longer wish to prostitute our words. Our mission in life as of this moment is to be at peace with the words we release into the world because we know in the end it will be what really makes us happy.

Well, that and the title of Mrs. John P. Cusack.

*smooches...making changes one day at a time like an alcoholic*
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and hoping that you all strive to do what will make you happy in life and not just what will pay the bills.

peace, love & blessings, bitchezzz

Just So That We're Clear...

"I'm a cold heart-breaker, fit to burn and I'll rip your heart in two, and I'll leave you lying on the bed... I'll be out the door before you wake, nothing new to you..."



So don't say I didn't warn you.

Stay tuned tomorrow as I make my triumphant return to blogging, because I know you've all been waiting with bated breath...

*smooches...reintroducing myself to the blogworld, bitchezzz*
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I know you missed me something awful! so tell me, what's hot on the streets these days?

Musical Interlude...

While I bask in my technology-free vacation, please enjoy these rockin tunes I've rediscovered while cleaning up my room:

No Pressure Over Cappuccino - Alanis Morissette


Don't Lose My Number - Phil Collins


Peace of Mind - Lauryn Hill


Contra La Corriente - SkeletorMarc Anthony


Wipeout - The Fat Boys feat. The Beach Boys


All Of You - Diana Ross & Julio Iglesias (don't judge me!)


Algo De Mi - Camilo Sesto (again... no judgements!)


None Of Your Business - Salt n Pepa (Hey Cathi... remember this???)
Salt - N - Pepa - None of Your Business


You're Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile - Cast of Annie(1982)


Love You Down (crunk cover WOOP WOOP) - Inoj


*smooches...looking forward to more time for me*
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not sure what I'll do with my free time, but I know it will be nice.

namaste...

Now The Babies Are In On The Act...

ME (upon opening a letter from FDU regarding graduation): Why is the president of the school writing to me about graduation? Doesn't he know I already graduated in 2007?

K: Maybe he heard you didn't finish your thesis...

*smooches...wondering if it's child abuse if I only slightly chop her in the throat*
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and with that, good people, I go on a two-week Blog Vacation. see you after the holiday.

BE SAFE, BE WELL, AND MAKE EVERY DAY COUNT

Do You WANT Robots To Take Over The World?

I swear... you people act like The Terminator, Eagle Eye and I, Robot never existed with your blatant openness and willingness to lick technology's balls.

Why is that?

Is it really that hard to put down the Blackberry? Think back to 5, hell ONE year ago when you didn't have it. How did you live your life? Probably less distracted. And happy.

And can we discuss this newfangled way to keep your eye doctor's pool boy employed, the Kindle? Really? So sitting in front of a computer screen all day is not enough for you, you want to sit in front of a screen all through the night, too, right? Because GOD FORBID you have to hold a real book in your hands, OOF- that's soooo inconvenient.

Or how about the locator chips inserted into unsuspecting animals? Ever think Fluffy is trying to run away for a reason? Didn't I read somewhere humans were next? Oh, fabulous... I can't wait to get my barcode on the back of my neck 'cause you know, deep down, I've always wanted to know what it felt like to be a Jew in Nazi Germany!

Let's not even get into this hot ghetto mess of a "breakthrough" from "scientists" who need to stop being "...so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should." [OOOH, I love that line... name the movie for a month of FREE MOVIES from moi... and Netflix. First one gets it!]:



But I mean, really? Is this necessary? People are developing shit so we don't have to think for ourselves or utilize our brains or anything? This is the future you want?? I won't lie- I'm the first fool to Google someone I've just met but DAMN, right in their face? And really? You need a computer to tell you what the best deal on paper towel is? Didn't you learn MATH in SCHOOL?

Listen- I don't know about you but I'm going to fight the power. And I don't care if I'm the only one who still reads actual BOOKS and thinks for herself. I'll be that one hold out while the world changes around her, making food over an open fire (remember fire? ahhh... good old fire...) and writing things down. With a Bic pen.

So as you bask in the latest gadget by Apple or [insert name of random mad scientist here], ask yourself: how long before those Rumba's you bought to clean your house grow a brain, eat your babies and kill you in your sleep? I'll stick with my old school broom, thank you!

*smooches...thinking of turning this blog into a handwritten, mimeographed weekly newsletter*
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'cause honestly, in a fight between humans and robots, you KNOW we're gonna lose!

Appreciation.

I just found out that it's Teacher Appreciation Week. Besides the fact that we should be appreciating the people who put up with our rass clot babies all the time, it's nice that a week is set aside to really, really show our gratitude.

Y'all know that I'm a Class-A nerd who, up until my grad school graduation in 2007, was in school since the age of 5, so OF COURSE I have many memorable teachers in my academic memory bank.

Like Mrs. Geasor, my 2nd Grade teacher, who really wanted to skip me to the 3rd grade but I didn't want to go. Those 3rd graders looked scary, and my classroom had the cutest lil loft play area. I wasn't ready to give up play time. (Damn... I was a lazy genius even in the 2nd grade? For SHAME!)

Or Mrs. Alt, my JHS Spanish teacher, who let me write this little skit for a project for extra credit. Or was it just a regular project? I can't remember, but I had fun writing it and she was lovely!

And the Myriad of BTHS Teachers that shaped my life:
>>Mr. Greenberg, Dr. Cocchiarelli & Ms. Reiss- wonderful English teachers that encouraged my reading & writing habit
>>Ms. Schreiber- who introduced me to the beautiful Italian language
>>Mr. Peemoeller & Mr. Honor- who, despite my classroom shenanigans, taught me to appreciate engineering
>>Ms. Sais & Mr. Mirer- who, bless their hearts, TRIED to make Social Studies interesting
>>Mr. Curulli- who let me hang out in the guidance office when I didn't feel like eating lunch or going to class
>>Mr. Ferdinand- who had the FUNNEST metal shop class this side of the Mason-Dixon line, I swear!

Plus the few, the proud, the Alfred U. professors who worked hard so I could (finally) graduate: Prof. Trice, Dr. Hluchy, Carol Burdick (R.I.P.) and Dr. Godshalk

And last but definitely not least, My FDU mentors, who really, truly helped me find my voice: Renee Ashley, Jeffery Renard Allen, Thomas E. Kennedy, Walter Cummins and Martin Donoff.

Of course it would be wrong of me to write a post about how great these teachers are without mentioning another great teacher- my baby sis, Mari. I've never seen her in action in the classroom, but I know HER, and she's awesome so ipso-facto she's an awesome teacher.

You heard it here first.

*smooches...for all teachers everywhere*
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who were some of your favorite teachers? tell me in the comments!

Unfinished Business... Must Be What's Got Me Down

I should be in a better mood these days (for reasons that are NUNYA) but NOPE... that damn gray cloud is right there, above my head, waving n shit like we're homies. And I can't shake it.

I was thinking it's the weather- it's going to rain all freakin week- and that perhaps I should invest in a light therapy box, but when I googled them they were crazy expensive. I may need a doctor to sign off on it so Oxford can pay for it.

(Oh, didn't I mention? I had to ditch Empire BC/BS because they raised premiums and lowered my options. In my book that equals BOO!)

So all day I've been exploring what has me in such a funkity-funk, and The Voices have informed me that it's a combination of:

1- My MFA Thesis: I really don't know why I can't make myself finish it. And before you all respond with "Just do it already" that's all well and good in theory, but when I sit at the computer to work on it I just plumb don't want to. So please accept that this is something I just need to come to terms with on my own, and it will happen when I'm ready for it to happen.

2- Capital One, Juniper Bank, CitiBank and Sallie Mae: DEBTS, DEBTS, DEBTS. I don't think I need to explain WHY this sits heavy on my soul.

3- Doctor, Doctor: I've been putting off an appointment with the dentist and my regular doc to get a few things straightened out and verified and X-rayed, etc, and much like the thesis, I keep putting it off. But again, like the thesis, it's something I just have to get to in my own time, when my brain is ready to accept the reality of what is happening to my body.

4- WORK, ARGH!!!: It's no secret that I've been looking for something else, since the industry I currently work for is a soul-stealing devil in a blue suit. Finding the right mix of salary, flexible hours and compatibility has been extremely difficult. So much so that I blame all my new gray hairs on my job search.

5- Media Empire: All my lofty goals to be the Dominican Oprah? On pause. I wrote out an awesome 5yr plan... and then proceeded to ignore it. Sad, right? And then I put Monday Musings on hiatus and didn't realize it would cause me to suffer from something I can only imagine as similar to Empty Womb Syndrome. THEN I began suffering from writer's block.

THEN my brain exploded and spilled all over my sofa. So now I need a new sofa. But who has money for a new sofa? I can barely keep my rent paid and my phone on...

So yeah... I think I have every reason to get moody. I dare you to say no!

*smooches...even though I'm feeling crappy*
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no fair to deny you my sweet kisses just because I'm being a Crabby McCrabberton, right?

Who Needs Manhattan, Anyway?

If my girl Lani didn't work in LES, I'd honestly never step foot in Manhattan on the weekends. Why? Because my side of the bridge has everything I could ever want.

This past weekend was another reminder of why I love Brooklyn so much, and why, despite my struggles to stay financially afloat, I can't see myself leaving. If I can make it here... you know the rest.

The Brooklyn Museum, which I just discovered has more than three floors of art (don't ask... I'm a spazz, I realize this. Can we please move on?), has a monthly (FREE!) event sponsored by Target called First Saturdays. It includes admission into the museum from 5-11PM to see the exhibits, maybe catch a book discussion or film, a "Hands-On" art project, live musicians and a dance party at the end of the night. Did I mention it was free? No? Well it's free. As in FREE.

This Saturday's band was Pistolera... a local group out of Williamsburg that I had the honor of interviewing last year. Love them... they rock, so please check them out. I also saw two amazing exhibits- one by Hernan Bas with some of the most beautifully provocative paintings I've seen in a long time and The Dinner Party by Judy Chicago in the Center for Feminist Art. So elaborate and just amazing... I mean so many different ways to illustrate the beauty of the female genitalia and the power we women have. Not just sexual powers but, Oh jeez, just check it out... I highly recommend both.

I think next time I may even attempt going to the fifth floor!!

After the museum there was a stop at a nice spot on Vanderbilt, Soda, where the DJ once again tore it up (even if he DID look like Lil John... WHAT? OKAY...) and my carefully styled Mixed Chicks coif quickly escalated into a certified Angela Davis 'FRO! But it's all good because I was in Brooklyn, where shit like that is the norm. As opposed to the chi-chi Manhattan clubs that expect you to wear shoes n shit. BOO!

(I will not get into the craziness that ensued that evening... you don't need to know that I may have drank more than I wanted to NOR do you need to know that gravity was not a friend of mine after 3AM. Oh, and you especially do not need to know who drove me home and what inappropriateness took place in said person's front seat in plain view of my neighbors. All of that is NUNYA!)

Sunday was another lovely day in the Slope; I had brunch at Cheryl's Global Soul (where the waiter had the cutest accent but gave LOUSY LOUSY service and saw his tip suffer because of it), did laundry (which really frightened and confused my clothes to no ends. Do you know how disturbing it is to see a shirt and some socks plead for their lives because they were not aware of what a washing machine was? Pure sadness) and then had a couple of margaritas at Caliente Cab Burrito Bar (oooh, go there and get EVERYTHING off the appetizer menu 'cause YUM!!!).

All in Brooklyn. All within 15 minutes of my apartment.

I mean really, why would I ever leave this place?

*smooches...loving my boro, even in the rain*
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and special shout out to ShellyShell who partook of this ALL BK WEEKEND with me; it's good to know people in the 'hood. next time, I'm gonna need ALL OF YOU to come out, mkay? Thanks!

Jaded Photographs 2009: May Edition

"Shade For The Bard of Avon"

*smooches...remembering that trip with so much fondness*
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free book to anyone who can name the play this passage comes from, the first one of his I ever read: "All that glitters is not gold,- Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life hath sold But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms infold. Had you been as wise as bold, Young in limbs, in judgement old, Your answer had not been inscroll'd: Fare you well; your suit is cold."

They Say I'll Probably Be Late To My Own Funeral...

Email sent out by my Titi Gloris last week about our monthly, family get-together:

Hey Family,
Is that time again to get together.
Place-Tita's house
Time-2PM- do you see Raquel? 2PM not 3 not 4
Date-Saturday, April 25th.
Just bring your appetite, I'm supplying everything else.

*smooches...trying to conquer my lateness issues*
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it's not fun to always be the one late to everything... and have everybody know it and clown you about it. *sigh*