doin laundry on a saturday night.

is this what my life has become? i don't have any kind of fabulous whatever to do w/ myself, so i kick it in the laundromat until they close?? i used to be miss out thursday-through-saturday, sleep it off sunday, happy hour tuesday & wednesday. wtf happened to me, y'all? *sigh* whatever. i'll figure it all out. in the meantime, i stole a meme from sanderson who stole it from none other than peanut.

Where did you begin 2007?
hanging out w/ la familia lamb.

What was your status by Valentine’s Day?
coming off my mommy's 48th birthday

Were you in school (anytime this year)?
no

Did you have any encounters with the police?
yeah. trace & i called the cops on some dude who was slappin his woman around at 13th & carpenter.

Where did you go on vacation?
in my mind. that's changing soon, though

What did you purchase that was over $500?
nothing

Did you know anybody who got married?
do i? hmmm. no.

Did you know anybody who passed away?
yes

Did you move anywhere?
no

What sporting events did you attend?
none. i missed relays this year. womp.

Describe your birthday:
mine.

What’s something you thought you would not do but did in 2007?
see patti labelle have straight up CHURCH on national televis

What has been your favorite moment(s)?
my first official dgf customer, meeting lily, hanging out w/ emerson, watching femi kuti live at the shrine, realizing the glory that is shayne, hearing owusu & hannibal's "a million babies" for the first time ever, karas' dinner party . . . i'm sure there's more that i can't recall.

Any new additions to your family?
yes! my cousin cynthia gave birth in late november to a little girl named selenia carolina.

What was your best month?
i have no idea.

Who has been your best drinking buddy?
i have a lot of those.

Overall, how would you rate this year?
it gets a 100 for danceability.

Change your hairstyle?
a bit, but not as much as i think i'm about to

Do you have a New Year’s resolution?
to continue on this path. that's not a resolution so much as it is a given. but my new years tend to be birthday related.

Do anything embarrassing?
um, yesterday i walked out of the laundromat without actually turning on a washer.

Buy anything new from eBay?
yes! books. yay!

Get married or divorced?
lmao no.

Get arrested?
no.

Be honest - did you watch American Idol?
when they got rid of melinda, i stopped writing myself notes to watch.

Did you get sick this year?
a lil bit

Been snowboarding?


Are you happy to see 2007 go?
i'm always happy to live through another calendar year. i won't miss 2007.

Been naughty or nice?
nicety. like michel'le.

ummm

this whole process is, indeed, addictive. permanent adornment is kinda fantastic.
yeah.

not sure how to say it

so i suppose it'd be best for me to just let it out:

struggle is relative. pain is relative. you can't ever discredit someone else's sentiments based on your world view. it's inaccurate, it's unfair, & essentially the same thing as telling them that they don't matter. you never know what's brought another person (or a group of ppl) to a certain point, nor can you ever fully know what's gonna happen as they press forward.

"just cuz i'm doin' better now/ don't mean i never lost shit" -- black thought, "clock with no hands"

i'll probably come back to this post later. but i've touched on this before, this hungry, hateful way in which humans destroy (or attempt to) one another. it's almost like we get so wrapped up in our pain/ drama/ bullshit that other folks' tiniest advances are like an affront to us. at least, it seems that way. maybe i'm being more sensitive than i usually am, but it's true. *shrug*

dear andre 3000:

i know you said you were tired of rapping.
but, you have lain to waste every single song you've appeared on between the release of idlewild in 2006 & all your guest spots & class of 3000, vol. 1 album. do you think that maybe, just maybe i could get to see you on tour sometime up close & personal before i die? you don't have to do any big outkast tour. it could be you just showing up at a big boi / purple ribbon show. somethin. maybe the next time i catch an esthero show, you'll pop up. or something like that. i'm not asking for a whole lot, man. i swear. i just need to witness your gloriousness in person. i won't try to snatch you off the stage. i won't try to get backstage and get pregnant by you. i really won't. i just need you on stage while i'm screaming/ singing my head off. really. it won't hurt. i promise it won't. please.

please?

thanks.

mixed feelings about the path i'm on.

(originally titled: "i'm not about to play mammy to anyone")

the other day, i got my membership packet from DONA international in the mail. i thumbed through the two newsletters & introductory info packet. i just sighed & thought, "i paid XX dollars to join an organization that won't recommend you unless you get w/ their program, & these fuckers don't even give me a membership card? blah."
then i looked at the newsletters more closely. i saw maybe one photo of a black woman & baby. i sighed, swallowed hard & heard that lovely little voice inside my head going all crazy: "wtf? you know there are black doulas, & there are black women who utilize the services of doulas . . . this shit's gotta change. get your training ASAP. read those books, find out if jackie from family birth mark is gonna be doing any classes in late spring to early summer. read some books. get comcast to come install cable, so you can research your ass off. & get ready to deal w/ those white folks, especially those who don't think of you as 'really' black; & don't forget the skeptical black folks who think you're on some new age erykah badu earth mother bullshit . . ."

i've since calmed down. i thought about some things, had some talks (thx karas & mommy & trace), & came to the conclusion that i must simply place one foot before the other. i will be certified as a birth & postpartum doula. i will seek clients who are under or unrepresented within the realm of home birth & anything labeled "alternative" child birth. i will pick the brains of everyone who works across the hall from me so we can get the data that confirms my suspicions about why doulas didn't work in the public health centers (um, hello gov't mistrust & mistrust of white folks). i'm flipping through doula blogs to view the profession from women who're not writing newsletters, but chronicling their lives & work. i'm gonna explore the connections that i can make w/ black midwives & doulas between philadelphia, nyc & the dc area. i will not allow myself to use my clients as platforms for my agenda, but i will not hesitate to remind myself why i am doing what i do. i will commit myself to providing the best possible service, & remember that it's about what the client wants/ needs. (that's gonna be hard cuz i'm one bossy motherfucker. maybe i ought to become a midwife instead? lol)

i'm gonna be dealing w/ the privileged. i know that. whether i connect with clients on a deeply personal level or not (i don't know how i wouldn't when i'm intending to be present at the birth of their child, for crying out loud), i have to remember i'm there to do a job. i can't present everyone with my ideas on how to really have a birthing revolution. i should also refrain from anticipating that when i have a black client, i'll automatically have some magical "yay i'm glad you're black; let's have a revolution" sort of thing going on. it would be cute if that could happen, but i'm not about to presume that it will.

i'm just trying to be as realistic w/ myself as possible. it won't be all drama, of course. i want to lend strength, bolster confidence, & create comforts for my clients. i want to use my knowledge of aromatherapy & such to help them. i want to become a licensed massage therapist & combine all of my skills & training to assist my clients in having the most blissful pregnancies & births possible. & i mean that.

there's so much i want to do. i'm praying that i can get it all done without compromising my integrity.

feeling like my fulfillment is on hold

like i have to shake my ass a lil harder for those tips
smile bigger when they ask how i'm doing, so massa & them don't know i'm planning to leave
i'm growing impatient &
full of myself, certain that i'll strike when the iron is hot
my hands itch to pull at that other shoe, instead of letting it drop on its own
trying to slow this mess down just enough to savor the last days

i'm more aware now than ever of how this is gonna go down,
where my support comes from
what i need to leave alone
& ultimately, i'm fully able to see where i ought to be
what steps to take, where to plant my feet.

i just have to breathe & take care of this stuff first.
the babies will come
the money will come
the new home will come.

i just have to make it so.

there's a lot going on.

i'll write when i really have time.

i won't for a while.

my inner child needs a hug.

& an apology
& that new pair of punky brewster sneakers
someone who'll listen the first time she says someone's house is on fire across the street
& someone to explain why she has to be nice to or give two shits about daddy & his folk
someone to tell mommy to stop putting relaxers in her hair, no matter how much "easier" it is to style
& a friend who won't steal her cabbage patch dolls
a real talk about boys, sex, sexuality, & why her uncles keep nudie mags
to know that difference between mommy's cigarettes & that funny smelling stuff ricky & his friends smoke in the living room
to get to know all of the bisabuelos before they die or have strokes
to learn to jump double dutch
to learn to play chess, cuz checkers is for suckas
& to know how beautiful she is
to know it's more than, better than okay to be black
to be unashamed of her roundness
to understand that saying no is a tool, & she should do it often

she needs more quality time with momzie
violin lessons
more dance classes
no more wave nouveau
better access to health care
more smart black girlfriends
more books
more space
a savings account
more time to play w/ the records in the basement
a trip to every cultural event and street fair philadelphia ever had to offer
to see her own reflection and smile
to know that she's loved, a child of god no less than the stars
& most importantly
that she's gonna grow up to be just fine.

revelation:

i am happiest when crafting with abandon. when i can just do whatever i want with whichever medium, i feel most peaceful. i feel alive.

reason #275 why i'm leaving that job.

o sonho :: moon dreams

i've been having incredibly vivid dreams. last night, i dreamt that my baby sister got picked up by customs when she went ashore during a family cruise to the caribbean. granted, i can almost guarantee that my mother, sisters & i will never go on a cruise together if at all -- but that's what the dream was. baby sis was distraught, upset that they roped her into whatever group of accused ppl based pretty much on color. black grad students. that's what she is right now. smart, black, woman, unafraid, proud. people always wanna take that from you -- that fearlessness. they always wanna snatch it & cloak themselves in it. the sense i got from the dream was that these black officers of the law on whichever island we'd visited were cross at the level of privilege held by my baby sis & these other folks. to me, she's not terribly privileged; she makes her lil money, she works in the library in my old neighborhood full time while doing her counseling psych classes all at once. she is black, working hard, but also subject to various oppressions. however, that wasn't enough for these power-abusing uniformed men to leave her be.
i don't remember the rest of the dream, really. i ran to try to help her much to the protest of my mother. but i'm a springing-into-action kinda broad. i suppose that if the dream finished the way i wanted it to, i would have been able to convince them to let her go & the loved ones of the other students would have been present to achieve the same goal. i don't know. i guess i'd best tell her not to go on any long trips without family? i'm still sorting it all out.

the night before last, i had a dream that upset me because of who was in it. i felt panic wash over me as soon as i realized what i was looking at, where i was, what i was doing. & i couldn't get away quite fast enough. he & i conversed. i don't remember what was said. i know it was really brief, bullshit small-talk. i woke up feeling incredibly panicked; when i dream about this person or anything that has to do with him, he shows up. every time since the very beginning of our knowing one another. & i consciously resist that; it's like my ori is calling him to me. as a matter of fact, i'm almost so shook that i don't even want to press the 'publish post' button when i'm done writing this particular entry, just on the strength that i don't want to talk to him ever again in my life. yet & still, i'm gonna do it. i need to be fearless as much as possible. if i talk to him, so be it. i feel that perhaps these dreams come unexpectedly when he's thought about or discussed me, & i really do hope that he's troubled in his sleep too. on the flip side, if someone mentions him to me i usually forget all about his ass until/ unless a dream comes. i'm still not sure if it's my ori or the ancestors working on me/ us. i just know i'm okay, insulated as much as i can be from that whole mess. working on my shit, making sure i don't bring myself into a situation like that ever again.

maybe one day, the dreams won't bother me.

crazy busy.

day job
craft job
tryna gather myself unto myself for this giftsmas (that's xmas or christmas to the rest of y'all) foolishness
i wanna redecorate
i need to redecorate
i need to pray more
i'm eating less bullshit
drinking more water
getting less sleep
this is . . . a lot.

& in the middle of all this i wanna return to volunteering, become an activist w/ the emphasis on activity, mentor a grown woman who's officially tryna enter this place we call the workforce, decide whether it's the netherlands or mexico city next spring/ summer, try to plan a move for spring, get better at styling my own hair, film a documentary, learn some portugues . . .
& still manage to give myself orgasms on the regular.

there's a lot to do. & it's going on 2 in the morning. i gotta get some sleep from somewhere.

braveheart & braverheart.

dave chappelle is, indeed, a genius.



found this on lauren's blog. yay!

my current feelings/ thoughts on thanksgiving:

i don't feel like it.

this year, i want a turkey sammich in one hand & some sort of intoxicant in the other, while watching some kind of ridiculous film or television program on dvd (see: get a life, in living color, pootie tang, or napoleon dynamite) with some friends.

i will have that kind of thanksgiving. dammit.

even if my entire family converges on my itty bitty apartment & decides to eat candy off exu's shrine space . . .
even if my perpetually chilly apartment lets the hawk in . . .
even if my janky ass oven puts an unnecessary coating of crispness on everything i bake inside of it . . .

i will enjoy this day off.

if snitches get stitches, then sew me up.

megan meier didn't deserve this. i don't care what happened between two kids -- if a parent gets involved, it should be to end the drama. not turn it into some torturefest that ends in suicide.
i applaud the (anonymous) mother who told the truth.

outside of that, i've nothing to say, really, except this:

rest in peace, megan.

i won't ever forget it: the beginning of the end.

the time he likened us working our problems out to the way we'd coach each other at free cell.

i wanted to smack him in the face w/ the keyboard at that exact moment, pack my shit, & walk the fuck out. but all i had to my name were some nickels (probably not enough for the bus) & whatever food i'd bought for the week. i couldn't go back to my mom's like that. but i felt it in my gut -- i felt someone telling me to leave.

lesson #1: always listen to your first mind, no matter how crazy you might look to everyone else.

i am a towering fount of snot.

i have a cold. fuck. no date for me this weekend. not much more than changing the bed linen, taking lots of baths, & being pissed that i can't go out & play with the other kids. meh.

i need the time to crochet, though...

something's come to my attention as of late:

when it comes to dating, i'm the fault-findingest motherfucker ever.

i'm gonna relax that shit & go dig for records with this cat, maybe over this here long weekend. it cannot possibly hurt me to go crate digging with someone. it can't, unless that person is an axe murderer, suicide bomber, or otherwise out-of-control crazy kind of individual.

it can't hurt.

i'm still not certain how

it is that i can't convince myself to settle for anything less than specifically what i want. i might entertain the lesser for a little while, but i generally am not tryna do that bullshit.

i'm not mad at it, either.

out of pocket in atlanta: shawntae harris.

hitting people upside the head with bottles of rum? really?

the most organized thoughts i could immediately muster about such a report are best reflected by miss jalylah burrell in this post on she real cool (i still wish i'd been clever enough to conceive of such a blog title, even after 2 years of reading). a quote:

Simplemindeness leads too many to believe that certain bodies are immune from perpetuating isms. People of Color, Women and/or LGBTQ's identities do not endow them with progressiveness and sometime they can be as vigilant as the mainstream in instilling perpetuating and maintaining the strictures that incongruously tightly circumscribe their lives.

by virtue of that same simplemindedness (as it belongs to others, not so much this writer), i think she makes black lesbians look bad. if you're the only reference point that some folks have for an entire group of people, you are an ambassador, whether your ass wishes to be or not. people are stupid. just like being the only black person around will get you some bullshit in all-white "liberal" or "inquisitive"circles, being the only lesbian (particularly around some strongly heterosexist, queerphobic black folks) will get you some bullshit. there's a culture of exclusion among black folk as is, incidents like this (whether largely publicized or not) seem to be the carte blanche that these closed-minded folks need in order to justify hate. the same way black men in hoodies, timbs, the "wrong" sneakers/ jeans combo, etc. aren't allowed into certain night spots because of what someone "dressed similarly" may or may not have fucking done in that same night spot or a different one. i'm not justifying acts of exclusion, but i definitely see that side of those behaviors. if you're an inside-the-box thinker, what else are you gonna think? "she's a lesbian, she's black, she's kinda butchy so i guess i can expect that from kinda butchy black lesbians." thinking in a line is dangerous. even when the linear thinking is based on lies & exaggerations. call me crazy, but that's just what i think. people are that dumb, unfortunately. sometimes, we give others ammunition through our convoluted, negative behaviors. i don't feel like it's okay to assume that one person should represent all folks who can be classified in that group (at the same time, i'm not terribly keen on identity politics & classifying folks in the first place) . . . but i guess my disturbance is that behavior like this certainly doesn't help anyone who struggles for the rights of a group -- black folks, women, the LBGTQ community, poor folks, etc.

doesn't she have any kind of fucking home training? you just hit motherfuckers in the head with bottles of booze (that i presume she paid for, cuz who the fuck is giving her irrelevant-to-current-music ass any freebies?) when you have a problem with them? from what i read in jalylah's blog, & other random bits of celebrity gossip/ news i've heard she's got some stunted social growth/ anger management/ alcohol consumption issues. to paraphrase katt williams, if folks say the same exact shit about you for 20 years, it's true. that is, her behavior from what i've observed/ heard is congruent w/ someone who has some issues they need to work out. homegirl needs to put the bottle down for more reason than one, i'm willing to bet. no matter what someone says or does to you (short of threatening your life with action or words), you as a grown ass person probably need to learn to walk away. & you definitely don't come at them after the fact to assault them. fuck that. unfortunately, it's not even really about home training. she might not have ever adhered to anything her caregiver(s) ever taught her. sad, but true.

maybe i hold women to a higher standard. maybe i hold black folks to a higher standard, & therefore lean on black women extra hard. but ultimately, this incident is so telling! it says so much about the way we internalize the colonization of ourselves & our ancestors. if she makes you mad, hit her. if she rebuffs your advances, she's a worthless/ good-for-nothing/ funny looking/ tacky whore/ bitch/ skag/ heifer/ ho . . . & if she dare speak back, show her who's boss. this is something i've seen from butch lesbians as much as i've seen it from hetero-identifying men. i don't give a fuck, anyone who feeds into the gender constructs (regardless of biological sex) is susceptible to the comfort of what being a man or woman will get you in this society. maybe that doesn't make sense . . . what i'm speaking on is what i've observed with my own eyes, what i've felt in my heart of hearts. there are women running around here thinking they can play the part better than a bio male can within the same social constructs, & that is dangerous. not because i believe gender roles are static, but because in this place we call america those gender roles are rife with oppression. because they are misleading & create a space wherein domestic abuse is okay, wherein it's okay to dominate your partner simply because it's what's "supposed to happen." carrying around & perpetuating the fucked up attitudes/ behaviors that you've been exposed to isn't suddenly made okay if you're not in a heterosexual romantic relationship. sorry. essentially, mistreatment of another human being is supposed to be wrong all of the time.
*sigh*
i lost my train of thought. but i think that's enough for now.

i'm expecting someone who doesn't respect my stance to come attack me in the comments box . . . because i'm supposed to forgive her class status (before becoming a wealthy/ famous rapper), blame hip hop for her acting like that, & give her a pass because i'm a queer black woman myself.

right.

oh, hell no.

wtf?

i'm kinda, like... flabbergasted.

please feel free to engage me in discourse in the comments, okay?

there is so much wrong here. so much.