Haven

Twitter...

2012-01-28T05:18:00.000-05:00

I'm gonna mess around and start using Twitter. I have no idea what its utility is, but why should I hold that against it?

Anyway...my Twitter account like this blog had fallen into hibernation. I've been trying to figure out how to put a barrier between my personal Twitter account and the one I maintain on my J-O-B. So I blocked a bunch of followers I didn't mind having while I was freelancing. Of course, that's nothing but a placebo. It doesn't maintain any privacy. I just thought I at least make a symbolic gesture to keep those identities separate. One is a reflection of how I see things, the other is what other people want to see. So on one side, I say represents me...but the other side represents anything but me.

Since I couldn't sleep I started tweeting. After my first one, I realized 140 characters was an interesting parameter to put on what I think. I can definitely expound on my hypothesis, but tweeting gets me to the point of it all.

I'm not too stubborn that I can't admit I judged Twitter, whatever its utility may turn out to be, hastily. And once I figure out if reckless tweeting would get me into trouble, I'll figure out how to handles it...

I can't get back the time I waste...

2012-01-05T21:24:00.000-05:00

I don't do regret. I just made an executive decision about that particular emotion a long time ago. I do the best I can. That isn't necessarily the best I'm capable of at any given time, but I give whatever I have to whatever I do.

But whenever I find myself at a point where I'm forced to look back over a decision I've made and try to figure out how I got from there to here...

Sometimes I sneak right up to the precipice of regret. Instead I get angry and I start to wonder if, in fact, the effort I expended toward a particular unsuccessful end might have been a waste of my time.

And that makes me furious. And my head aches like it's doing right now because what am I supposed to do with anger? And what am I supposed to do with the absolutely impoverished notion- no pun intended- that instead of being productive or moving toward my intended goal, I was wasting my time?

The Mantra

2011-12-08T02:54:00.001-05:00

I never walk the streets, think it's all about me
Even though deep in my heart, it really could be
I just try my best to like go all out
Some might even say yo shorty black you're buggin' out-
Phife, Buggin' Out

By way of the ridiculously creative mind of one person I know, I found the blog post of another ridiculously creative person I know. And it struck a chord. Took me back to a place I was a couple of years ago as I approached New Year 2008. I dubbed it my year of Tyler Durden. Then I fell off. Way off.

"Wherever I go, ego." Damn, Nicholas Payton. That's it. You put your finger right on it.

When I started the exploration of my concept of "a knick-knack life," the way I described my lack of self-importance apparently came across in such a way it overshadowed that I also clearly stated my belief that I, and others for that matter, are unique and marvelous.

One of the best compliments I ever received...because I thought it fit me to a "T" was from an attorney friend who told me I was "neither fungible nor interchangeable."

I was tipsy from drinking Grand Marnier at the time, but once he explained what it meant. I thought, then said out loud, "Damn right." I really should start drinking Grand Marnier again. It never fails to bring me to a transcendent plane, but I digress.

As I was saying, I never heard it quite that way, but I embraced on the spot that was exactly who I was. It also greatly raised my opinion of the person who said it, because I feel like very few people get me and I was mightily impressed he did...but again, I digress.

Nicholas goes on in his blog to say:
"I never got why when people said someone was “tooting their own horn” it was a bad thing. Isn’t that what my horn is for? If I am not to toot my own horn, then who?"

and then:
"Why can’t we say what we are anymore without “people” feeling threatened?"

and:
"I’m convinced that in the long run, the passive approach bites you in the ass. You must claim what’s yours. Nothing is given, not even to those who deserve it."

and:
"Don’t lower your leg to make the other dancers comfortable, lift that leg as high as possible and make them stretch themselves up to your level.
They’ll hate you for it in the beginning, but in the end, they’ll be better off for it."

Now these are the passages that resonated for me. I was perhaps on the verge of it, with the whole Tyler Durden pop culture thing I blogged about to start 2008 [was it really that long ago?]. I understand popular culture to be a rich mine from which to take references that easily resonate for others.

So I started with Tyler Durden and "if you want to make an omelette, you've got to crack some eggs." I still stand by that. If you're going to do anything worthwhile, you have to accept you must disrupt the status quo writ small or large.

I think was on the path to step into the personal light that Nicholas puts out there in such a poetic way (no surprise there- sitting in band class with him learning music from his father Walter Payton, we were all pushed to find and then perform the version of greatness that was within us...so I probably started drifting off when I stopped feeding my kinetically creative side and why I miss it like amputees describe the loss of their limbs, but again I digress).

The reason that phrase "neither fungible nor interchangeable" exactly captured who I am is that I already know that there "ain't nobody bad like me." I know this. I just think it's true of other people as well. That's what I meant by ordinary. Ain't nobody bad like me, and ain't nobody bad like every individual I encounter. And therefore to me, that fact is unremarkable, but I did not mean to imply I thought I was insignificant-I'll have to check and make sure I didn't use that word. [By the way. next time I'm going to cut-and-paste in a exchange I had on facebook about my spiritual perspective because it completely relates to all this, but let me finish this blog's thought...]

My issue has never been that I don't recognize my own uniqueness and marvel at it. My issue has been 'tooting my own horn.' [at this point, if you haven't already gone to the link and read Nicholas' post, you should because I can't keep stopping to paste in quotes].

I was satisfied that those who really knew me, would see me. But instead in fact, I think I was not being "unapologetically myself"at all times, but only when I was alone or safe with the handful of people who I thought understood me. I think that's all wrong not the least of which because it presumes only a small number of people will understand me. It's not my job to coddle or protect people who don't get me from who I am, full on. It might chase some away, but really, they have work of their own to do. It might delight others and give me the opportunity to expand my community. And, as Nicholas noted, it might even kick some folks into their own high gear.

Nicholas suggests we should all have a mantra:
"It’s not boasting, it’s an affirmation of what is possible when we exercise right effort with consistency. This is about the right for me to say what I want to say in the way I want to say it. The mantra you repeat is what you will bring into your existence...'It ain’t bragging if you can do it.'
Unless we put forth the mantra we want the world to repeat back to us, it’ll never happen."

In my young womanhood, I had a mantra. But I only acknowledged it to myself. I'm pretty sure, though it clearly manifested itself to other people, because I was then and remain consistently authentic.

Referencing another one of those popular culture adaptations I like so much, even before it was a plot line in an episode of "Ally McBeal," I had a theme song. And I was seriously into my theme song, I heard it in my head all the time.

If you knew me then, it will not surprise you to know it was (and to some degree remains) :

But it's time for me to state my mantra in my own terms and live in it consistently.

Guess what? I'm a bad bitch and you'll love it.

Surprised? You shouldn't be. But if you are, it's because I haven't been 'tooting my horn' as I consistently as I should...

My Ro

2011-12-05T00:30:00.001-05:00

Exactly a year ago, I lost my little alter ego. She reluctantly came into my life at one transition and quietly left me at another. I wish I could say I was stronger when it was time to let her go. She stayed a bit longer just for me, especially on her last day. But it only made me love her more. I can't really complain about the difficulties life sends my way for very long, because it has also brought me more than my share of true loves. And Ro was definitely near the top of the list.

She couldn't talk. Wouldn't keep a job. Never backed down from stirring up a little trouble. And she made her own rules.

I am very proud that I kept the promise I made to her the first day we met. When I picked her up, I promised I would always take good care of her. I lost her for awhile, but God sent her back to me and we were never apart from then on. At least I thought I was taking care of her, turns out she was taking care of me.

Of everything I lost this year, losing her was the only thing that made me feel lonely...

It's really my own fault...

2011-12-04T19:51:00.001-05:00

Not what has happened so far in my life, but how I have chosen to react to it. Most days I think the "what has happened" version of my life is like a modern-day version of The Grapes of Wrath- I can clearly see the footprint of the zeitgeist right square on my ass. But the 'so what' of it all? That's all me.

I'm not the only person life is tossing around, so the variable is me.

The cards you're dealt make a big friggin' difference, but not nearly as much as how you play the hand you get.

I'm old enough now to sit myself down and face the facts. A lot of the things I secretly hoped would happen in my life, probably won't. Some of them because it's just the luck of the draw, but an important handful- actually the ones I hoped most would happen- probably aren't going to happen at all. Because instead of taking some risks, I sat around waiting for them to happen to me. And I finally see things don't work that way. If I had been more honest, a long time ago about how much I really wanted those handful of things to happen, they might have. But now, the chances are slim to none.

But first, the things that aren't going to happen that surprisingly enough I don't give as much of a damn about as much as I thought I would when I was younger.

I am not going to end up in the corner office with a gold key to the executive washroom. Not gonna happen. I just do not have a passion for the rat race or a drive to conquer the world. I've tried to fake it for awhile at different times in my life and it just doesn't catch hold. I love to do a good job at whatever it is I'm doing. But not for the sake of getting ahead. Usually I get my ass in gear if it helps someone else or if my livelihood is in jeopardy. Those two things will kick me into overdrive. But other than that, I'm not all fired up about getting the employee-of-the-month parking space. If I could figure out a way to support myself doing something that helped other people without any possible peril to my sustenance, I would do that. So that's one thing.

Because of that last thing. I probably will not end up in a deluxe apartment in the sky. I'm not even good about playing Powerball. I'd be really happy if I end up with a nice place to live where I can enjoy my days. But I am not going to end up stinking rich. I don't have the drive for it. Wait, that's almost the same thing as the first thing. Somewhat. My lack of professional drive means I have to accept I will probably not have the accoutrement of material comfort. I'm just not probably going to earn enough to access them. So I'm satisfied. I get what I get.

So what are the other things? I'm probably going to remain single and end up with a couple of cats instead of a couple of kids. I really like cats, so that part is not so bad. But the single, no kids part? That's a little bittersweet. I really did want those things. Like really. I never longed for siblings. But I thought when I grew up I would be so happy if I had a family of my own- that's my definition of stability and safety and success. I like taking care of other people. It's one of the few things I know I'm good at and gives me any sense of fulfillment and desire to follow through.

But I spent most of my young womanhood so scared that no one would ever want to be my partner, that I chose to get involved with people who either I was never going to commit to or recently who were never going to commit to me. Almost every day of my adolescent years someone was telling me I was ugly or ignoring me or being annoyed about me being around. I am a very sensitive soul. There are many people who think they know me and actually don't, who probably think I could give a flying fcuk about anything anybody says or does to me, but that's not true.

Every time someone says or does something hurtful to me, I spend a little time absolutely sure I am going to fly apart right on the spot.

But since it's happened so often, I just pull it together-on the outside- and get on with it. Over time though, it's just convinced me that I would never be accepted and loved and it has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. I have made it true because at the end of they day I have believed it would be so. And now because I took that and made it my truth, I have lived it and made it so. And I have to live with the consequences of that. No one else.

It's good to be honest about that. Because the consequences for me have absolutely nothing to do with the men with whom I've been involved, God bless them all. It's been because I have not truly believed that want I wanted would be what I would get. And being dishonest with myself about that is why I've made the choices that have gotten me here.

For the first part of my young womanhood, I got involved with guys I was not going to commit to. Not purposefully so, I had this insight in my grown-womanness.

At the time, I was aware that I was very emotionally guarded. I even knew why. But I didn't understand at the time, that as a result I was choosing to get involved with men based on my ability to keep myself emotionally protected and out of risk. I could bounce at any time. I thought that was a good thing. And to some measure it is. No healthy relationship should involve a 'need' or 'lack' but for the other person. But there should be an openness, interest and willingness to share and connect with another person. I did not have this in my emotional repertoire.

Luckily, I am not a sociopath. After hurting a couple of people, I realized that what I was doing was very unfair to the other party. I was letting someone else take a trip down a path I had no intention of travelling- risk. It actually rattled me to the core. I thought I was a risk taker. But I wasn't. And I am also not a heartless person. It never occurred to me that by focusing exclusively on not getting hurt myself, I was hurting other people. And I was very disappointed with myself. I know what hurt feels like and had no intention to visit it on another. I was just trying not to get hurt.

So I swung to the opposite extreme. I would be so open, so willing to take a risk it would make up for the guardedness I had operated with before. And so I have chosen to get involved with men who for whatever reason have no capacity to commit to me thinking: hey, once I was like that and I got over it. If they see me doing it, they'll see it's OK and do it too. Not that these men knew that they weren't ever going to commit to me-they all claimed they wanted to and maybe they meant it- but they couldn't and it wasn't going to change because I was being such a good example. But it is what it is. That's what I've been doing. It didn't work on me, and it doesn't work on them. People do what they want to do when they are ready to do it.

But I have been indulging myself by investing a measure of time hoping things will change in relationships when I really don't believe they won't. Once I realize a guy isn't going to commit, I actually know that's not going to change. I'm not that goofy. But I've been wasting too much time on the 'hoping' part.

I actually know I'm hoping. But I guess going back to the fear no one will ever want to actually be with me, I've now convinced myself that my own cynicism is the problem and that if I just hope a little harder and a little longer that things will work, they actually will. But they won't. Because I have chosen to lie to myself about the truth instead of cutting my losses. I mean maybe they could, but I don't believe that kind of shit will ever happen to me. So it ends being a lot of comedy and aggravation for everyone involved.

Right now, I'm at the tail end of doing this for the second time in a row. That irks me. The first time wasn't a surprise. The hoping part was really pro forma. It was way past time for that dude to be gone. But I think a part of me felt a little guilty about not regretting the end of it all. And I was genuinely pissed about how it went down. It offended my sensibilities, really. So I spent a couple of weeks on the hope-and-change of that. Then I was cool. On to the next.

But this time it hit me right between the eyes, I can't lie. But I saw it coming a long time ago. In fact, I've been hoping and therefore lying to myself this second time a lot longer than I expected I would. I've known I was doing it. I just haven't known how to stop. I think because I have been petrified to do so. Part of the time because my life had become so intertwined with the other person that I needed to hope it would change awhile so I could get my bearings. It gave me something to do so I wouldn't have to acknowledge I was having that fly apart at the seams thing. And I truly was in love. For the first time, after some hesitation, I really had opened up to that wanting to connect and share with another person because I thought I had found that unicorn- someone who wanted to do the same and with me. I should have known that wasn't going to happen, right? I have never believed that was possible.

So at the end of the day, even more than being willing to test my ability to alter situations with the sheer force of my hope and powers of persuasion, I am a pragmatist. If a man doesn't want to commit to you, he's not going to change his mind about it. It's a lost cause. And if he packs up and moves, it's a wrap. It ain't gonna happen. Not because of him or because of you. It just isn't, so you let it go.

The little hurt girl in me wanted somebody to choose me. Because nobody ever did. But it was my job to take care of her. I shouldn't have let her take control of my emotional choices. Because children are irrational, they don't know any better. But adults aren't. They can't afford to be. I can't afford to be.

I am single now because of me. And I may remain that way, because now I think 1) there really isn't a person out there for me to find, 2) even if that person manifests, I'm not sure I'm emotionally capable of walking the line between protecting myself and opening up and I wouldn't even try and 3) the lifestyle I lead- mostly solitary- just works against me. I just have to get right with the whole cat thing. Which leads to the second heartbreak.

The other reason this has been a struggle is because it means facing the fact that I won't have the kids either. I wanted both the partner and the kids. There's nothing wrong with being a single parent. But for me, it would be a form of emotional selfishness. It would meet my needs, but I'm not sure it's fair for someone like me to be a parent without giving the child a spare...a spare port in the storm, a spare point of view on life, a spare voice of reason... So I don't think it would work for me. There's a lot more fertility behind me than in front of me. I had the chance to really think about that a few weeks ago. But I'm a pragmatist. I did the right thing for all involved with no hesitation whatsoever. My vision doesn't involve anyone being unhappy about being there.

The end of the year is coming up and soon after, my birthday. And also somewhere around there, my secret deadline to stop acting like unicorns and hope and rainbows make the world go around. It is what it is. I've had this secret deadline for awhile, a long time actually. And I am a woman of my word. I'm going to honor it with some dignity. There's no crying in baseball or break-ups. Don't get me wrong. I am crushed. Right up until that day comes, I am going to hope as hard as I can with my fingers crossed, pinky swear, the whole nine. But when the day comes, I'm going to wake up and let it go.

So where from here? I have absolutely no idea. The things I have spent my time focusing on so far, have not actually been the things I really wanted. And I knew it. I was just too scared to admit I was not being true to myself. I get it now. But I can't go back and undo it.

So what comes between now and the sunset of it all seems like a big sigh. I mean, who the hell cares? I kind of don't. Like I said blog before last, I don't have a sense of self-importance that makes me think my life makes the world go around. I like myself and all. Thank goodness because my own company is something I got plenty of...But I'm not sure exactly how I'm going to spend another half life. Geez. And if it stretches on...I'm not sure how I feel about that.

My bra is too tight and my eyes hurt

2011-11-22T22:29:00.001-05:00

That's the truth. I just got finished driving down a parkway with no lights in the pouring rain and I have absolutely no desire to do anything but decompress.

As soon as I reclined against my pillows to think about my impossible schedule tomorrow morning, I realized two things. My eyes hurt. That's one. I squinted the whole time I was driving trying to keep sight of the lane markers and praying I wouldn't hydroplane off the parkway. Roads up here aren't made of the proper material for rain and it get really treacherous. I get really anxious driving at night.

But most urgently, my bra hurts. I am officially at the point where the most relaxing thing I can do at the end of a hard day, or even in the middle of one, is to unsnap my bra. This is a relatively recent phenomenon. Well into my mid-thirties my bra size was wholly unremarkable. But around three years ago, the girls took off. I need substantial trussing-up. Cute, novelty lingerie is completely out of the question. And I have tried. Just a few days ago, I bought some naughty unmentionable thinking, hey what the hell. I got the thing home, put it on and promptly spilled over the top. I need a grown-woman, industrial grade bra.

Once I take off this bra, my day is over. So I may as well turn out the light and call it a night.

Singular Sensation

2011-11-11T23:47:00.001-05:00

I got a couple of emails after my last post. And I just re-read what I wrote. So before I go on, I am not in some bad place. I feel fine. Maybe it's an only child thing. I don't dread being alone; I kind of like it. Loneliness is what brings people down. I don't think I have an undue amount of loneliness in my life. So please don't be concerned about me in that way.

Last year about this time, my life was in a great state of upheaval. And not for the first time. So over the last few days or so, I probably have been more judgmental with myself about certain things I thought I would have accomplished by now. But that is never a useful exercise. The life you think you will have was always only a figment of your imagination. Being disappointed that your reality doesn't match up to that is just as false as being satisfied if it does. None of us can predict what will come. Therefore do not worry...

But the whole idea of a knick knack existence is not a concept that I could flesh out in one sitting. It will take me a while. In the end, it may turn out to be a bunch of BS. But it's not a bad thing.

I have to say the only aggravating thing about my life thus far has been the upheaval. I am periodically reminded that I have very little control. When that happens, I take a deep breath. And I remember that I am very blessed because what I need for my journey in life is not material and therefore can never be lost. I have faith and I have to ability to endure most of what comes my way.

I feel like a character in The Grapes of Wrath some days; swept up in these huge phenomena like a tumbleweed blowing across the social prairie. So what I meant last time about about feeling disconnected from anywhere was that having been physically relocated so many times now, I have become convinced that where I am is of little consequence to whether or not I am happy. I can be satisfied anywhere. I can live anywhere. In that sense then, it doesn't matter where I am.

So now I'm tired...I'll have to get back to this later. I hate it when Daylight Saving Time ends. I get super sleepy, very early. I'll pick this up again...

Out the Revolving Door

2011-11-06T11:50:00.000-05:00

I can't believe it's been a couple of years since I've updated here. But what can I say? At the time, I thought I needed to direct all my writing energy elsewhere. And then I thought blogging was cheating on the writing I 'should' be doing. But it turns out, if I don't have an outlet for what I want to say, I kind of resent what I must to say to make a living.

I wish I was back with some sense of accomplishment or enlightenment about the meaning of my life, in particular. But I don't have that at all. From the last time I wrote to now, I feel as if I have been in a revolving door. Pushed in at one side and out the other having expended much more effort than it should have taken to get so relatively short a distance, if anywhere at all.

Everything I have, I think, I feel has been stripped down and away. Making it hard for me to believe I ever really had anything at all. Most days I would just as well prefer to retreat, but I go out. I do my job, then I return to where I started and prepare to do the same the next day.

I don't have a personal connection to where I live, but I might just as well stay here than move somewhere else because my life would be just the same wherever I went.

This not what I thought life would be like. It's not depressing; it's just inconsequential. If I had aspirations of grandeur, I might be ambitious. But I'm not. I've had some pretty remarkable experiences, but they are no better or worse than the remarkable experiences someone else may have had in life.

A few years ago, actually now that I think about it -quite a few years ago, I was walking in San Francisco. I stopped into a shop for no reason and saw a Lalique figurine. Immediately, I wanted that figurine. I couldn't afford it, of course. I was in graduate school. I admired it for a moment and left the shop. A few years after that, when I was settling into a new place after getting a job, I remembered that figurine. I took to the internet and eventually I found the figurine. Before I bought a sofa, or a table and chairs, I bought that figurine. When it arrived, it was much smaller than I remembered from the shop, but there it was. I had it. I put it on a shelf. Occasionally I looked at it. I dusted it. It had no purpose or importance other than my admiration of it.

Since then, I have taken that figurine with me wherever I've gone. Sometimes putting it on a shelf, sometimes keeping it in its box. But I have held onto it even when I have thrown most other things away. It probably isn't worth as much as I paid for it and it does absolutely nothing. But it's mine.

I am a knick-knack. This much I have decided. For a while, I thought I would just sit down and write something proper about that. But that seems daunting. Instead I'll just chip away at it. Perhaps in retrospect it'll make itself into something. Or it won't.

What does that mean? That I'm a knick knack. I figured it out when I was thinking about what it is and who it is I am in the scheme of things.

I don't have a specific purpose. I am not essential. I am not important.

None of those observations are meant to seem disparaging about myself. In objective terms, I just mean the relative impact I may have on others isn't that much. Everyone in my life could just as easily have never met or encountered me. No one needs me. Nothing I think or do can't be thought or done by someone else.

On the one hand that's rather humbling. There are very, very few people who can say with surety and veracity that their lives are essential and important in the larger scheme of things. It doesn't mean they aren't intrinsically valuable.

But for the most part, if anyone has a purpose or is cherished in any way by another, it is by way of indulgence. It's not that anyone couldn't get along without another, it's that they don't want to get on without someone (or even something) in particular.

I don't have that role in anyone's life. Sometimes that makes me very sad, but then I grab a hold of myself. It's only an indulgence on my part, me feeling sorry for myself. In fact, wanting to wanted and important in another's life is only an indulgence of my sense of self. I exist whether I am wanted or not.

So let me also give the other parts of that reality, lest you think it's wholly depressing.

I am unique. In every way. There's has never been, nor will there ever be someone exactly like me. And that is a marvel. A very humbling and magnificent marvel. Who I am, the thoughts I think, the feelings I experience and the life unfolding in front of me is absolutely incredible at the same time it is insignificant. Just like and even with 7 billion other people inhabiting the planet right now, no one is like another. Like a single snowflake or grain of sand.

As unique as I am, I am also ordinary. There is nothing about me that is particularly exceptional. I am so quirky, in fact, that some might be disgusted by my oddity.

I am smart. Not so smart that I could revolutionize anything at all. But smart enough that some people don't like to talk to me at cocktail parties, or play games with me. I figure out the plot twists of movies minutes after the credits. I can look at a pile of jumbled pieces and figure out how they fit together.

But I am also dense. No matter how many times it's explained to me, I cannot understand how insurance works or selling money. I can analyze people, but I don't understand them at all. I can tell what people are going to do, but have no idea what to do about it. I can connect with someone on a very deep level, but I loathe day-to-day contact with people and the kind of socializing that puts others at ease.

I'm not a great beauty, but with some effort, I can pull it together. But most days, I forget or don't think anything I have to do on that particular day merits the effort that would be necessary to do that.

The job I have is useful. But I could be quickly, probably easily, replaced. The people who seek me out are most likely trying to use me for their own ends and the people I seek out are merely a means to getting my job done. I do a serviceable job overall: somedays very good, others not so much.

These days I have anxiety attacks. I don't like talking on the phone. If I get really frazzled, I stutter. My hands rattle so much I can hardly hold a cup of coffee. Spending so much time alone, when I do get the chance to talk to someone else, I go on for too long. I tell stories in circles instead of a straight line.

Too many people freak me out; too much noise makes me jumpy.

The people who love or care about me get along seeing me infrequently or rarely, with no consequence. And when they do spend time with me, it might be more exhausting for them than it is for me.

In sum, anyone who honestly says they want to see or talk to me on any given day, is doing so because they want to, not because they must. I am the cliched pill. I know it.

I am a knick knack. And I only recently realized I have been one since I was born.

Constant Reinvention

2010-05-24T22:57:00.003-04:00

So I don't know what I thought life would be like at this point...but this isn't quite it. When I was a kid, I guess I took for granted that by now I'd be what or who ever I was supposed to be. Life would be figured out. But it's not. In fact, I feel like I'm working harder now than I have in a long time to stay true to who I am and figure out how to get wherever it is I'm supposed to be.

But maybe that's just how it is. Who's to say? The thing is...you never know what life will be until you live it.

I'm not sure what it is I should be doing at any given moment. Maybe I'm not doing anything wrong. Maybe I'm not getting anything right. The only thing that seems clear is that nothing about life is really certain after all.

And it's not just me...It seems that everything and everyone is a little chaotic. Maybe in my youthful haze I never noticed that before. It just seemed that grown-ups had things figured out. But maybe they never did. Maybe things always seemed like they were hurtling toward disaster...possibly.

When I was younger, if I felt even the slightest twinge of anxiety about anything, I changed everything. Maybe I should try that...

I'm back...

2010-04-15T21:58:00.002-04:00

So here's the thing. I didn't really think I wanted to blog while I was back in school. But I think I'm ready to start up again. Not really sure what I'm going to have to say after all this time, but I'm back at it.

So what did you miss? I gained a lot of weight. I'm looking for a job. I'm finishing another graduate degree. Those are the top items on my action list.

What have you been up to lately?

Tyler Perry and Madea

2009-03-13T10:18:00.001-04:00

Final Project

2008-12-29T19:37:00.003-05:00

I've been neglecting my blog. School and life just didn't leave much time or many brain cells for idle musing. But I do have something to show for it. I did three video projects for one of my classes. Her is the last one...I should get the others ones up pretty soon. Of course, the day may come when I am embarrassed by these clips. But that day isn't here yet. I'm still excited about learning how to edit and finally getting to make what I want to out of my thoughts and observations.

For your amusement...

2008-11-15T18:17:00.002-05:00

This is hilarious. I'm laughing too hard to figure out how to put it here.

Joy!!

2008-11-04T23:42:00.002-05:00

I feel truly blessed to have witnessed this moment. A singular achievement that means I will never have to worry about what can't be done. Despite all obstacles, all doubt... with faith, good works, and love... all things are truly possible.

Not a cure but a salve for the wounds to the souls of many, a wellspring of hope for every young person who has wondered or worried or fallen short of their capabilities in fear.

Therefore do not worry...

Copied from The Guardian

2008-07-29T06:57:00.003-04:00

Since Brunsli posted recently about getting her hands on a copy of Italia Vogue, July featuring black models and editorials, I figured I'd pass along an article I saw about the issue during my morning gossip trawl...

From The Guardian...

Fashion world stunned by Vogue for black

Reaction to Vogue Italia's latest 'black issue' is electrifying the industry, forcing the fashion world to reconsider its resistance to using non-white models, writes Sarah Mower

Sarah Mower
The Observer,
Sunday July 27 2008
Article history

Jourdan Dunn on the cover of Italian Vogue's black issue Photograph: Public domain

It's nearly August, the retail fashion industry is in an uneasy slump, and summer issues of women's magazines are gaunt for want of advertising. Yet in the past four weeks, the 'black issue' of Italian Vogue has caused such a phenomenal demand at news-stands in Britain and the United States that Condé Nast, the publisher, has rushed to reprint and distribute 40,000 more copies.

The explosive content of what, by any standards, is a small-circulation magazine with an average monthly sale of 109,000, is now being spoken about as a cultural watershed in fashion. With the next show season six weeks off, its influence might finally end the 'white-out' that has come to dominate catwalks and magazine pages.

On Friday, a saleswoman on the till at WH Smith in Hammersmith Mall, west London, was proudly gesturing to a Vogue Italia propped up at her cashdesk. 'We've managed to get 10 more,' she said, as a group of black and mixed-race schoolgirls broke ranks in the queue and doubled back to the shelves, hollering with delight. They have reason to celebrate, and to hope. One of the covers of Vogue Italia features Jourdan Dunn, the 18-year-old who was discovered by a Storm scout at Primark in that same mall. Perhaps those girls were her former classmates.

Conceived by editor-in-chief Franca Sozzani, and shot by Steven Meisel from a roster of 18 new, established and former stars, the July 'black issue' sold out in Britain on arrival. That renowned fashion photographer Steven Meisel, the recluse whose lens has made the career of many a model (including Brits Lily Cole and Karen Elson) should be focusing on non-white subjects might have been expected to cause some debate. A mild examination of conscience among the model scouts, agencies, casting directors and designers was privately anticipated, without much hope of anything changing - in the same way that the endless skinny-model debate has resulted in little or no change in the industry. But no one anticipated the global interest.

'It has been unprecedented, a sensation, although that wasn't the aim,' said Jonathan Newhouse, chairman of Condé Nast International, who masterminded the reprinting and rerouting of unsold magazines in Italy to America and Britain. In America, the issue is shrink-wrapped and stickered with the words 'First Reprint. The Most Wanted Issue Ever'.

That is no hype, according to the Kenya Hunt, the young black style editor of Metro International News in New York. 'I've been watching the news-stands since the beginning. There are lines of women when they hear of a new shipment. It's a wide cross-section of women, girls, people my parents' age who read Ebony,' she said. 'There have been email chains about it. The news-stand guys are hustling, locking it up in the back and charging $25, $28, when the real price is $16. Yesterday, I saw it on eBay for $50. There is a climate shift. This is the year of the presidential election. And this at a time when magazine sales are really hurting.'

British retail newsagents, who are often reluctant to allot shelf-space to any non-populist publication, have also been scrambling to satisfy waves of people wanting to get their hands on the £6.50 edition. Borders has had to move issues around the country after a first-day sell-out, saying that demand was 654 per cent up on the previous issue. WH Smith's women's magazine head buyer Louisa Stokes confirmed: 'I took so many queries from customers and from individual store managers - I've not seen anything like it. Italian Vogue is normally delivered to only 45 stores, but customers all over the country are asking for it.'

The first printing was so scarce in London that Edward Enninful, the black Notting Hill-born Vogue fashion editor, who worked with Meisel to style the Naomi Campbell cover (one of three versions of the edition) was forced to scour the country for an issue. 'I couldn't believe it. I ended up phoning friends in Ellesmere Port in Cheshire, who found one for me in a corner newsagent. I am so excited. I never thought I would be able to see something like this - my people, my race, wearing the collections, being gorgeous, chic, real women in that way. But the most important thing is: this proves we are bankable. We can sell.'

That, of course, is the point. Evidence of commerciality, especially in anxious times, is more likely to shift industry thinking than any amount of political correctness. For years, the excuse proffered by advertising agencies for not signing black models to lucrative contracts, and by magazine editors who failed to feature women of colour on their covers, was a supposedly factual, 'they don't sell'.

Certainly, part of the grand rebuttal has been organised through the internet, influencing an industry that is far too used to listening to its own circle of insider voices.

Sola Oyebade, chief executive of Mahogany Model Management, has been running a Facebook, text and email campaign in an attempt to make the issue the biggest-selling Vogue ever. 'We believe there's industry apartheid and this is something that the black community does feel very strongly about. I've had so many calls from people asking where they can get their hands on a copy. I've had shops like Harvey Nichols ring me up, telling me we're causing them a lot of problems with supply, so we've been liaising with them, too. Our fashion industry is institutionally racist. The explanation for why they don't use black models is always that we don't sell, but this shows that's not true. Black people are among the highest consumer spenders in the UK for material goods.'

Agencies are busy scrambling to catch up. London-based, Nigerian-born designer Duro Olowu has fought to cast black girls in his show for the past three seasons. 'I'd phone agencies, and there would be silence. Now, people will have a responsibility to make sure they have black models in their shows,' he said. 'Anybody who doesn't will look an idiot.'

However, the truth is that it has taken two central establishment leaders - Sozzani and Meisel - to make the subject even discussable in fashion circles.

Just a few months ago, anyone who voiced opinions like Olowu's would have been regarded as naïve, eccentric or speaking out of turn and in danger of ostracism. 'I wrote a piece about the absence of black models a year ago,' said Kenya Hunt. 'and no one wanted to talk about it.' Now, she says, everyone is rushing to quote it.

As Sarah Doukas of Storm, the agency that discovered Jourdan Dunn and manages Alek Wek, put it, the success of the 'black issue' 'has implications for all of us to now fully embrace the diversity within our industry, and to exploit our creative resources to celebrate our cultural and social differences.

It is, after all, a long overdue wake-up call for an industry whose precarious future will rely on reaching global markets that do not resemble the freakish army of half-starved six-foot white girls who have come to represent the Western ideal.

As Barack Obama has it, it's time for a change. Though it may seem forced to link politics with fashion, history proves that the dominant aesthetic of any era can only reflect the mood of the times. And just as in politics, what just might revolutionise fashion now is that enough white people, too, are bored to death and impatient with the way things look out there.

Speaking out

Jourdan Dunn, the teenage supermodel who was first spotted in a Primark store in west London, was interviewed in The Observer Magazine in April after she had criticised London fashion week - and its catwalks - for being too white. She spoke about race and role models ...

· On being spotted: 'Everybody says I was spotted shopping in Primark. I wasn't shopping, I was with my friend. She wanted to go in, I wanted to go home - and we were just mucking about in the sunglasses section.'

· On her comments about London Fashion Week and race: 'It needs to be said because I think about these things and other girls do, too.'

· On the reaction to what she said: 'The way people said I was stupid made me feel horrible, saying fashion's a business so they need to use models who sell things.'

· On Naomi Campbell's plan to establish a modelling agency to promote different races: 'Naomi's idea is good. I'd do an agency for black girls and Asian and Spanish, because there aren't enough of them on the runway either.'

· On posing: 'I like having spikes coming out of my head or being in something I'd never wear.'

· On being away from home: 'I miss out on getting on my brothers' nerves, so when I get back I have to get on their nerves on purpose to catch up.'

Breaking News...

2008-07-17T17:17:00.002-04:00

I have a white hair.

Actually I have quite a few white hairs some on my head and others in more interesting places...like my eyelashes. But this white hair is standing up mischievously right in front of my head. This is a dilemma for me. You see I noticed the hair because I have selected yet another brand and shade of hair color. I was looking in the mirror strategically planning the color application and wondering with some nervousness how it might turn out. And there was the hair just about waving at me.
I actually like white hair. My grandfather had a headful of snowy white hair and my father definitely has more white than black. Gram also had spectacularly white hair. But you'd never know it because whenever she 'washed' her hair it would magically turn jet black. And I won't even mention all my white pigtail wearing great-aunts who were all full of sparks and fun times. White hair that is actually white is quite gorgeous. A headful actually looks timeless to me. You can't really tell how old someone with all-white hair is. They look cool without trying. At least to me.
So while I am not very enamored of my natural hair color...an almost forgotten shade of muddy brown, I don't necessarily want to cover the white. Ideally I'd like to color the brown and leave the white to grow in as it will. Have my cake and eat it too. But the nice consultants at Clairol say no to that. So until the white hairs really take charge I guess they will have to fall in line.

Dry spell...

2008-07-14T20:07:00.002-04:00

So as I sit and type, I am procrastinating. I am back in school. In eighteenth grade, as my mother jokes. Last January, just for giggles, I hustled together an application to Columbia School of Journalism. I got in! Who knew? So I am back in school. It's been harder than I though to get back into the swing of being a student. I love the program. I'm taking Reporting and Writing and a New Media Skills course. I'm great in class, but I've been taking a little longer to get my stride with the stuff out of class and the rest of my life.

The worst thing happened right after my first class. Gram passed. It's one of those things you know will happen one day, you just don't want it to happen any time in the foreseeable future. But Gram decided she was ready to leave us and she did, with a dramatic flourish. So I ended the first week of classes by going home to New Orleans. It was my great honor to eulogize her. I thought I was fine. I really do believe that my Gram is at peace and I feel very fortunate to have had her in my life for so long. She was definitely one of my favorite people. She is responsible for my optimism and sense of adventure, my sense of humor and love for telling stories. So it was a little odd starting journalism school at the same time as I had to say goodbye to her. But by the end of my week in New Orleans and most definitely by the time I hit the tarmac in New York, all the reserve I mustered up for the trip home crumbled. And over the next few weeks, I slowly unravelled at the edges. I lost my focus in school. And just generally felt disoriented. I kind of arbitrarily decided that July was time for me to get it back together. So I am working at it.

At the same time, one of the best things happened. I gave up the only apartment I'll probably ever be able to afford in Manhattan to move in with the person I hope to be with...well, forever. That seems weird to even type. I was not tragically single so it has been a bit of a whirlwind of transitions and decisions. It was brought to my attention that I really don't write that much about my 'personal life' in my blog, specifically relationships. I don't intend to start. Rats, right? But we met, we clicked, and we decided to get on with it. So I'm going with the flow and hoping for the best. Well, it seemed like it would be a really good idea to move in together over the summer before I started taking classes full time in the fall. But I now believe there is never a good time to move. And moving when you are starting a new endeavor is stressful. Moving while losing a loved one was more than I could take. So I was not very graceful about the whole thing. But it's done. I know it's the right decision. I lived through my mother's Scarlett O'Hara moment when I told her about it. And now all is well. Or getting there. But it's caused a lot of introspection.

I am the only daughter of an only daughter. It wasn't until I actually thought about the implications of committing to someone else that I really realized how much of my identity is wrapped up in being independent. And I guess I never really believed the other relationships I've been in were permanent, because it had never really occurred to me before that I might miss being single. Maybe that's why I haven't written about the other relationships. They took up my time, but never really changed the trajectory of my life. I can't say I didn't think it would ever happen--meeting someone that I wanted to commit to--but I guess I was OK with the possibility it might not. It's fair to say I thought it was more likely I'd meet someone I wanted to date. So when I went to Slish's Superbowl party back in February, I had no idea what would happen next.

So once there's more to tell, I guess I will. For now, I am very happy to be sharing my very crazy, unsettled life with someone I love very much. Nairobi was not as thrilled about the move. But that's a different story altogether...

Where have I been?

2008-06-09T09:08:00.002-04:00

Life has been like a roller coaster. Blogging just hasn't made it to the top of my to-do list, but I figured a quick note wouldn't hurt. I stopped working at UrbanIvy and started attending it instead. I moved. Anyone of these three would have been enough to hold my attention hostage, but together they definitely got the best of me. So I'm here. Eventually I'll get my wits about me and start writing again...but not today...

Jigga What...Jigga Who?

2008-04-12T03:10:00.003-04:00

A seemingly inconsequential popular culture event provides an opportunity to debate the state of media, the ongoing obfuscation of the relative importance of African American artists to mainstream popular culture, and the widely alarming recalcitrance to portray black people as anything other than pathological.

The marriage of two of the most lucrative popular culture icons in the country, race notwithstanding, is apparently not news. It's hard to imagine a figure more ubiquitous than Jay-Z to hip hop or Beyonce to pop, but I guess if Eminem married Britney that would be a big yawn too if they did so after six years (!) of anticipation and speculation.

I had to see pictures of Eva Longoria's wedding. Apparently she is more newsworthy than Beyonce and Jay-Z.

As someone who generally believes no one's wedding (even that of a celebrity) is 'news' but a private, family event, the mainstream media's claim that no one cared about this particular celebrity wedding news strains credulity to the point of exhaustion.

To be clearer... Two black people get married. According to the statistics we are usually bombarded with, that in and of itself should be worthy of an interruption of you usual programming. I distinctly recall reading and watching several features that suggested African American women were now more likely NOT to get married in their lifetime than not.

A black man gets married. According to the statistics we are usually bombarded with, if he's not dead or in jail or on the down-low or just trifling, the last thing a black man wants to do is get married. To a black woman.

A black woman becomes the wife of a black man who apparently wanted to become her husband. If we extrapolate from the kinds of media coverage we usually get of black people and popular culture, this is the equivalent of a Bigfoot sighting or a high-def shot of the Loch Ness Monster. Right?

The man who gave us Big Pimpin got married, people. And mainstream media thinks that is not news. Think about that...

Weird...

2008-04-02T14:25:00.002-04:00

You Are Likely an Only Child

At your darkest moments, you feel frustrated.

At work and school, you do best when you're organizing.

When you love someone, you tend to worry about them.

In friendship, you are emotional and sympathetic.

Your ideal careers are: radio announcer, finance, teaching, ministry, and management.

You will leave your mark on the world with organizational leadership, maybe as the author of self-help books.

The Birth Order Predictor

I'm just sayin...

2008-03-22T17:05:00.002-04:00

A More Perfect Union...

2008-03-18T12:56:00.001-04:00

Even more brilliant than I could ever have imagine...

Barack, do you reject and denounce black people?

2008-03-18T10:19:00.005-04:00

So Barack, do you reject *and* denounce black people?

This whole dust-up is really whites asking Obama to reassure them that black people aren't mad about racism anymore or at least that the ones who are are 'outside the mainstream.' It's Obama being cornered at the water cooler and being pressured to say he's not like 'the others' so everybody can go back to pretending race is not their issue with which to grapple.

I'll be watching because never before has a black man attempted this maneuver so publicly. But don't get it twisted, black people working in white America walk this tightrope everyday. At the lunch table, when someone makes a rude comment...when Imus makes a joke about black women...when OJ's name is invoked...

Black people in close proximity to white people are inveighed to reject unconcentrated, problematic 'blackness'- the kind that makes whites break out in a cold sweat...

Usually, of course, this ritual is writ small. The response required is a head nod or a chuckle signaling all that this black person takes no offense at the past and ongoing wrongs that might wound those other black people. The insinuation, of course, is not just that 'they' have no right to be wounded and to consequently cry out in pain and rage. 'They' are at it again...whining, crying, complaining about indignities, slaps, and blows that could easily be made inconsequential. Not by redress, but by 'their' silence...if they would only shut up...and go away. You, Representative Black Person, isn't that right? Couldn't all these problems be solved if 'they' would just stop their wailing and moaning? Notwithstanding that 'they' are our siblings, parents, grandparents, friends, neighbors, acquiantances, mere familiar faces...I don't know a black person who hasn't been asked to reject them as the cost for admission to what so many legion were unjustly denied.

In the script, we- as Representative Black People- are supposed to enthusiastically, even stridently, reject black pain and rage. We then must assure that, in fact, we've never even experienced the malady. But what usually happens instead is that, in lieu of reciting our lines as written, we stand quietly and the whites present en scene go on with their dialogue as if we had delivered an Oscar-worthy performance. Some dunderheaded black people do go so far as to actually say their lines. They are celebrated by white folks in myriad ways, their names held aloft for other black folks to venerate...Clarence Thomas, Ward Connerly, Condoleezza Rice...They will reenact their monologues at small cocktail parties and large convention halls with little provocation.

Make no mistake, tonight Barack Obama is being given the opportunity to be similarly laureled. But Barack is much smarter than the aforementioned. To date, even other black people have underestimated his ability to avoid passionately delivering the Oath. He has managed thus far to get by with the head nod. Not too long ago though, Hilary Clinton upped the ante. On behalf of white folks at water coolers everywhere, she indicated they would not be accepting the usual tacit compromise. She wanted to hear the words. Maniacally she demanded, "Say it. Say it, Barack." And Barack subversively said the words while making Hillary's command for the performance transparent. "Is this what you want me to say? That I reject and denounce black rage. OK, if it makes you feel better. Hand that script to me and I'll read it, but this is a very strange request you are making." And that was the rhetorical tongue in cheek, because we all knew that strange request is made all the time, even as I type...

So white folks have regrouped. Come back with something stronger for Barack's ass. "Boy....I mean Barack...everyone of you smart Negroes done figured out you need to sidestep Jesse and Reverend Al...(it was that SNL carton that really got white folks all steamed)...and now you don't even blink when we ask you to answer for Farrakhan? Well, we gonna have to come back with a real switch for that ass..." And that switch is Jeremiah Wright. A black man that most white people have never even heard of, but we'll give them a clip so they will quickly understand that we are asking you to turn on one of your own, one that you know, one real close to you, one that has done nothing but love and clean up after the wounded flesh racism has left behind on the Southside of Chicago. "We want you to spit on him in front of everybody. We're going to dress him up in rags, push him out, and make you-- in front of everybody--finish him off."

Make no mistake, that is the spectacle that is expected when Barack Obama makes a speech addressing the comments and his connection to Reverend Jeremiah Wright. At least as white folks see it. And to some measure that is the mise-en-scene...

But for black folks, the drama is different for Barack. He is Denzel standing in Glory...waiting for the lash...

Denzel Washington got the Oscar for that tear. That tear that for some signalled submission, but for those of us in the know, from that same womb, was a tear of defiance...

So today, I am filled with anxiety...but still hopeful. So far, Obama has shown himself to be more consummate than any of could ever have hoped. But I feel like I am sitting beneath the biggest circus tent ever, waiting to see Barack Obama be fired out of a cannon or to attempt a quadruple trapeze somersault without a net below. And I have always HATED the circus. HATED the circus. I want him to pull this off so badly and I am ashamed that I am even a little afraid for him, afraid that even that twinge of fear is a little betrayal of my confidence in his abilities.

I am also filled with respect, because I have never attempted to push myself the way Barack Obama has pushed himself. Perversely, where he finds himself today is an awesome testimony to his ambition, his courage. To me, whatever happens after this, he is like Thurgood Marshall, like Malcolm X, like Ida Wells Barnett, like W.E.B. DuBois, like Martin Luther King, Jr, like Shirley Chisholm...because he has stepped into the full awesomeness of his own possibility and not been diminished by the limitations society all too often successfully imposes on blackness, and black people. That he is even tested this way, is testimony to how far he has come.

Those heroes were amazing because they dared live in the beautiful complexity of their humanity while black. **I'll leave that for you to chew on and come back to it another day. Because there is no such thing as a Magical Black Leader who lives life to the fullest and speaks truth to power because they are so ethereal and preternatural. We all are Magical, if we dare to conjure.**

But I digressed, this speech that Barack Obama is so awesomely game to give in Philadelphia tonight, directly addressing his relationship to Reverend Jeremiah Wright is an attempt to force him to either betray his African American base by publicly rejecting an elder and losing face or to lose the delicate, fragile, spider-web fine support he has woven together from white people. Either outcome is fine with Hillary Clinton, Rush Limbaugh, Geraldine Ferraro, and every other angry white person that Barack Obama has Matrix-moved around so far. I don't care what he says. I understand what this is all about. All those years wasted on postmodern, psychoanalytic theory. This is a mimetic moment. This is metaphor. This is spectacle. This is the Panopticon.

Obama, gird yourself for your moment in the arena. I only wish there were more of us who had been where you are going so that someone could tell you what to say. Because tonight, make no mistake, you are going where no black person has gone before. If you vanquish tonight, there is no mistaking that you are the baddest black man alive. If you vanquish tonight, you will have proven that, like Neo, you in fact are the one who can do it where and how none of us has had the opportunity to do it before.

**Thank you, Anna, for the link to the transcript of Obama's comments. Hopefully, there will be a video clip soon.**

Lent and Lies....

2008-03-13T21:08:00.002-04:00

Actually this is two different topics...

The Northeast is not a gentle place to spend Lent. As much as I love living in New York, there is one bit of Southern snobbery that I have to confess. It is nearly impossible to find a good plate of fried fish around here. For some reason there isn't a very wide variety of good frying fish around here. I like freshwater fish, especially trout, and I just can't find it.

So Lent and its meatless Fridays can be difficult. But tomorrow...There will be fried fish.

On another front...I am now intrigued with this new show "The Moment of Truth." I don't understand why people succumb to it. Way too many questions, for way too little dough.

Yawn...

2008-03-11T12:31:00.003-04:00

Not that I care anymore, but I feel it my duty as a keen observer of popular culture and formerly bitter critic of the whole damn situation to report that Star and Al have split up.

I'm over it. There is no schedenfreude. What, really, can one say? Sigh. Everything I type I end up deleting because, what's the point? What were either of them thinking?

Spring forward, fall back...

2008-03-09T18:53:00.002-04:00

This year Daylight Savings Time starts three weeks early. So apt. Since the year has started, I've been pushing ahead at a much faster pace. One can be methodical without being slow. A few weeks ago, I acted on resolving a few issues that I've been abiding with for months. What is the point of more time for a situation that will inevitably end the same no matter when the action is taken? Do it now. A jolt to the system? Yes. Finding myself at a point I knew I'd come to eventually, only much sooner than I actually imagined I'd arrive... Perhaps I was putting off the inevitable not to stretch time but to freeze it. Having made a decision, if I don't take action, can I alter the inevitable? I don't know. But I am certain that my attempts to find the answer to that question have only ever wasted time, my time. Spring forward, girl. Let the rest fall back.

Leap Year

2008-02-29T23:10:00.004-05:00

So if you're feeling froggy, you ought to jump...
Now indeed is the time for moving forward boldly, unequivocally even. And it's days like today that get me thinking about the serendipity of opportunity. Some come around in a commonplace way, like stair treads raising on an escalator. Others though have a rare quality that heighten the senses. Mundane or miraculous...jump at chances. Take them.

State of the Black Union 2008

2008-02-23T09:00:00.003-05:00

I'm not going to say anything about Tavis' pouting and whining this week. The important thing is that The State of the Black Union 2008 is being broadcast live on C-SPAN from New Orleans. Turn off Flavor of Love 3 and watch it.

Eleganza Mack

2008-02-20T13:35:00.003-05:00

Here's Will Ferrell dressed like he's headed to a Superlounge at the Essence festival...or a Maude audition...

Therefore do not worry...

2008-02-11T21:13:00.000-05:00

When you walk through a dark room...do you take small steps? do you stick your hand out in front of you? do you push ahead until you bump into something? And once you make your way across, do you flick the switch and flood the room with light? Do you continue to navigate in the dark? Or do you just stay in bed waiting for the sunrise.

There is nothing worth doing in life that doesn't require a confrontation with darkness, a reckoning with fear. And while it seems some days that fear gets the better part of me, truth be told, when I look back I realize that it hasn't. I have gone forward despite uncertainty. In fact, darkness itself has sometimes pushed me toward the light.

I suppose like many mothers and daughters, it took me a awhile to realize that the woman who birthed me was human, fallible, and overwhelmed with nothing but the best intentions for me. I often wondered if she and I met as strangers would we be friends. But life being the wonderful journey that it is, we --so different- are two individuals who needed to meet. Because we are a lesson for one another. And I don't think either of us would have gotten the point had we not been yoked to one another. We are very different people.

Ever since I was young, I have realized that my way of seeing the world was not the same as hers. And my mother realized the same. We were at odds for a long time because her solution was to compel me to defer to her perspective and my solution was to forge ahead anyway. The struggle took a lot out of both of us. Like any child, I wanted my mother's encouragement. I wanted her approval. I was hurt and angry that I couldn't seem to please her with my accomplishments or to inspire her with my dreams. What I said about the world and my place in it seemed to strike the wrong chord, even anger her. And to hold back heartache, I became stoic and very stubborn.

One day. One blessed day, we realized that we were fighting the wrong fight. It finally occurred to me that my mother wanted to protect me, even if she had to hold me back to do it. And my mother realized that my life, while different, was still very much connected to hers. That no matter how far or how foreign, my compass was always calibrated to home. It took some adjustment, but we have learned to learn from one another. We have learned not just to love, but to like one another. When I encounter an obstacle, she concedes at the outset that she has no point of reference from which to direct me. She offers her support and sometimes her analysis. And I continue to learn that I can discern my own way. To liberate and affirm my ability to make choices for myself...

I am also left to figure my own way through the dark. I suppose eventually we all are faced with that realization. That no parent, no mentor, no guide, no other can make what is our own way in the world. That we must do for ourselves. If we are fortunate, we will find souls who are willing to walk with us. But inevitably we must release the fantasy that someone will walk before us or leave a trail of breadcrumbs for us to find, for every life's journey is unique unto itself. If we do not come to terms with this truth, we fall short of what is possible. We may remain safe, but we will not become wise. We won't be hurt, but we will miss the journey.

It took me a long time to let go of my want for a mentor. I finally realized it was really a desire for approval and the type of childlike care that none of us who accepts the lucidity of maturity can ever wrap themselves in again. To have someone else make me feel better, what a respite that would be. I took a deep sigh. And grew up. I have to do that myself. Otherwise I will always be dependent on other people. And not know my own way. Beyond the darkness and fear is my best self and my highest aspiration. May that faith be enough to fortify me as I once again leave what is known for what is next.

How dumb am I?

2008-02-08T07:02:00.001-05:00

Take the Dumb Test at QuizRocket.com!
Make Your Own Quiz

Cut it out, Boomkat!

2008-02-07T11:17:00.001-05:00

2008-02-06T23:48:00.000-05:00

I can't tell you how many nights I have not been able to get to sleep. And it is absolutely torturous because I actually enjoy sleeping and need to sleep in order to form coherent sentences during the day. But I cannot get to sleep on time. Then I wake up late and I'm fifteen minutes behind for the rest of the day.

There is something about having an animal living your house. I was thinking about why I wasn't sleeping when I heard a really loud noise. Nairobi and I locked eyes. Then without missing a beat, she stood up, jumped out of bed and came with me to see what the trouble was. And I realized that either she's 1) fearless, 2) incredibly loyal, or 3) not too bright. Having seen her purposefully hide from strangers and people she didn't like, I have to conclude it's a combination of 1 & 2. She' s pretty clever. But I think it's pretty cool that even when I'm alone, at least she has my back. I wonder what she would have done if there was trouble.

Given all the press Chicco and Marcellus get, I figured I'd post her picture. As you can see, she still wears her broken bell.

Happy Mardi Gras!

2008-02-05T03:31:00.000-05:00

If you don't know the Soul Rebels, you ought to. I can't take y'all to the Mardi Gras. But this is just a taste of how it's done.

I got tagged

2008-02-04T19:59:00.000-05:00

A few days ago, I got tagged. Wow. I've never been tagged before.

Six non-important things/habits/quirks...
1. I really love Looney Tunes old-school cartoons.
2. The only flavor of ice cream I like is Vanilla. Though I tasted some chocolate-jalapeno ice cream a couple of weeks ago and it was pretty good.
3. Whenever I go home to New Orleans, I sneak over to the seafood market and get a soft-shell crab po-boy and eat it all by myself in my room.
4. I drive barefoot.
5. I've become addicted to cherry limeade.
6. I didn't take a shower until I went to college.

Tagged....Here are the rules:

Ok.. So,here are the rules: (1) Link to the person that tagged you. (2) Post the rules on your blog. (3) Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself. (4) Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs. (5) Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog. Now let's have some fun.

Anna
Bygbaby
Linda
Mr. Slish
Muslimah
Natasha

Giants win!!

2008-02-04T00:05:00.001-05:00

New York City is going bananas right now because the Giants pulled off a fourth quarter win over the Patriots. Pretty cool. I mean it kind of sucks that the Patriots didn't get to finish their perfect season perfectly, but it also sucks that they've been accused of some pretty underhanded tricks like bugging their opponents. It's football, not Al Quaeda. Anyhow. It was definitely fun to watch the 'home' team win. On behalf of New Orleans, I'll take partial credit. I spent my youth watching ol' Archie Manning hang his head in shame after many a Saints game. I was an adult with a voter registration card, a driver's license, and an individual retirement account before the Saints even won a playoff game. But that isn't my point. My point is that Eli and Peyton Manning are from New Orleans, so we helped y'all win. You're welcome.

Postscript-- Slish, you threw a great party! I can't say that I'm going to take your advice and go out alone more often though, because I still worry about the return trip. Once Gov. Spitzer lets me break a fool off, then I will head straight to the nearest dance club confident that no matter how late it is, I'm ok on the train. Until then I'll have to keep to my curfew. But Revival was great, I had never been in that extra room. And I won two rounds of Name That Tune. Nice. What happened to that poor chump who was rooting for the Patriots? His face broke like a cheap mirror.

Too much to do...

2008-02-03T11:28:00.000-05:00

As I type, I am under the dryer.

Have you ever had the humbling experience of realizing your life was missing something you didn't even know existed? I have had that feeling twice in the past 48 hours. The most recent was when I sat down and started setting my hair on these new longer Soft Spikes. Ahhh. That's what I needed all along. I am blasting my hair with more heat than I usually do because, as is becoming usual for me, I am running late. I have way too much to do today.

It is the 200th Bicentennial Anniversary of the New York Archdiocese and St. Patrick's Cathedral is having a special African American mass. Since I've never been to St. Patrick's Cathedral, I really want to go for this occasion. People of African descent were involved in the founding of the diocese. In fact, the only lay person (non-religious) buried inside the church, under the altar, is the Venerable Pierre Toussaint. He contributed the money to build the first St. Patrick's Church.

Being from New Orleans, I give no more thought to being Catholic than I do being black. It's just an inextricable part of my upbringing. And I didn't realize until I left home for college that so many people were unaware of the role of African Americans in the Catholic Church. I don't agree with many of the edicts of the church , but its liturgy is completely ingrained in who I am. I am one of those black people who goes to visit a black protestant church and does NOT want to turn to my neighbor and tell them whatever the preacher said we should repeat--smile. But I digress, and some black catholic churches do that too. Anyway, to commemorate the occasion, the Office of Black Ministry has commissioned a special cloth from Nigeria that we are all being asked to wear and choirs from all over the country will be performing in the special service. But somehow, I've gone all week thinking the service was at 3. Uh, no. It is at 2. So I woke up very early this morning, went to the market, stopped at Rite Aid and rushed back here to wash my hair, set it and sit under the dryer. I intended to do all this yesterday...

And that brings me to the other time I realized my life was missing something. I found myself in Bed, Bath and Beyond last night. I usually steer clear because the place is a real money pit. But I was desperate for a mop and a few other things to organize my mess rather than throw it out. My shopping list said mop, pants hanger. That's it. Two hours later...I had a mop, a pants hanger....and a purse hanger, 3 laundry bins (on clearance), an apothecary jar (I've been meaning to start a terrarium), a gazillion tea light candles, hooks that stick on the wall so I can hang my new mop, a new rubber broom that is the answer for picking up cat fur, and some Yankee Candle tart warmers (I have a fetish for Yankee Candle...another time). Oh I got this little thingy that claims to keep tomatoes fresh after you cut them. Oh and I forget, I got ANOTHER pitcher with a plunger in it. Sigh. I love those...

I was standing in the bathroom section looking at a boutique set that was half price. Contemplating whether I should buy a tissue holder and waste basket for my tiny bathroom-- who knows where I would put it. I turned around and saw this amazing stainless steel container. You can hide your toothbrush and paste inside it. It looks like a miniature cocktail shaker. Wow! I realized I NEEDED one of those. So I stood and held it for more minutes than was necessary. Sigh. And then I put it back.

So after mass, I'm headed back uptown to go to Mr. Slish's Superbowl party. It's in Harlem at Revival. It's nearby and better than sitting around the apartment in my flannel teddy bear pajamas.

And I am excited to say...in the time it took me to sit here and ramble onto the keyboard I think my hair may have dried! This is thrilling. Absolutely thrilling. So I have to give the new longer Soft Spikes an unequivocal rave. As my hair got longer, it took longer to dry on the original size. Because I can wrap the length of my hair without overlapping, it has dried super-fast. It probably doesn't hurt that I have the 'Purple People Heater" on full blast-- which I usually never do and would recommend. But I'm in a hurry today, so just this once.

I'll post after pics on my other blog after I find someone to take my picture.

**update** I missed the service. Sigh. I couldn't get out of here. My apartment looked like a tossed salad. So I did another New York thing-- I went on craigslist and hired someone to do all the stuff I can't. But I just felt funny about leaving a stranger in my apartment. So, even though I could have gone and come back from church by the time she finished, I decided to stay until she was done

Windows...

2008-02-01T21:22:00.000-05:00

You all have no idea how much this blog means to me. Having it has gotten me through so many tough times. And I have re-connected and met so many special people because of it.

Because of your encouragement, I decided that I am ready and now is the time for me to get started offering Sisterlocks here in NYC. When I first moved here from Virginia, I was so overwhelmed with life that I could hardly imagine doing anything. But now is the time for me to take another step toward the life I want to lead.

I will still occasionally talk about hair here, but I have started a new blog -- reneadoessisterlocks.blogspot.com -- to post information about everything related to Sisterlocks, including my own services. My first goal is to complete my qualifying installations. So I am offering a SPECIAL rate for a LIMITED time. Tell your friends, please.

And Haven? Well, this blog is going to evolve into something very special. So stay with me.

Damn, Wesley...

2008-02-01T17:41:00.000-05:00

You're slicker than H & R Block. Mr. Biggs shoulda got your number!

Coming soon...

2008-01-31T22:03:00.000-05:00

Our favorite Soft Spikes has just gotten better! I just received new, longer Soft Spikes. And because I didn't want Brunsli to scoop me, I figured I'd better hurry up and post about it before she got to her camera.

Swan song...

2008-01-28T20:19:00.000-05:00

And so here it is. The first of many lasts. Tonight is GW's last State of the Nation Address. Sigh. I've applied my exfoliating mask, poured myself some wine and put my feet up. So it's rollers and rhetoric. I am curious to hear what ol' George has to say. The presidential candidates in his own party are, in effect, running against his administration and its record. Besides ensnaring the country in an indefinite, undefined, misdirected military effort in Iraq, the country is on the brink of a sub-prime mortgage crisis that may pull our economy into recession. I can't think of one cabinet-level issue where his administration has made a positive contribution. Sigh. But ever the optimist, W is going to lay out a series of proposals 'to move our country forward.' Yet as soon as he takes the podium, he will become a lame duck. Hardly a strategic position for leadership. It's all taking its toll on him. George hardly laughs or even smirks anymore. It's sad really. But hey, what are you gonna do?

I wonder what W's plans are for next year. The Carlyle Group? Halliburton? Giuliani and Associates? After a long vacation in Riyadh, I'm sure everything will be clearer.

CMB...Am I my brothers' keeper...

2008-01-27T23:29:00.000-05:00

This just in. Ted Kennedy thinks Barack is stuntin' like his brother. Endorsements are of relative value. At the end of the day, everybody has to make their own decision. My choice is my own, nobody is in that voting booth but me. There is no denying, however, that garnering the endorsement of the two Kennedys mostly closely connected to the aura of John F. Kennedy has a certain mythological and psychological value.

Bill does not like the way this is going down. But maybe as I've already succinctly suggested, he should just shut up. Because Bill, you may be the Teflon Don Dada-- I will give you that. Game always recognizes game.-- but you are not helping Hills and she is not helping herself. Folks ain't feeling y'all. And it's her own fault. She's talking really greasy. It's only January, do you really think people want 8 years and 11 months more of this foolishness?

If you slept through your high school Civics/U.S. Government class, pay attention. Because now the Democratic race really begins.

So once again, I am up way past my bedtime. For no good reason.

Barack is stuntin' like my Daddy...

2008-01-26T21:55:00.000-05:00

From tomorrow's New York Times...

A President Like My Father

By CAROLINE KENNEDY

Published: January 27, 2008

OVER the years, I’ve been deeply moved by the people who’ve told me they wished they could feel inspired and hopeful about America the way people did when my father was president. This sense is even more profound today. That is why I am supporting a presidential candidate in the Democratic primaries, Barack Obama.

My reasons are patriotic, political and personal, and the three are intertwined. All my life, people have told me that my father changed their lives, that they got involved in public service or politics because he asked them to. And the generation he inspired has passed that spirit on to its children. I meet young people who were born long after John F. Kennedy was president, yet who ask me how to live out his ideals.

Sometimes it takes a while to recognize that someone has a special ability to get us to believe in ourselves, to tie that belief to our highest ideals and imagine that together we can do great things. In those rare moments, when such a person comes along, we need to put aside our plans and reach for what we know is possible.

We have that kind of opportunity with Senator Obama. It isn’t that the other candidates are not experienced or knowledgeable. But this year, that may not be enough. We need a change in the leadership of this country — just as we did in 1960.

Most of us would prefer to base our voting decision on policy differences. However, the candidates’ goals are similar. They have all laid out detailed plans on everything from strengthening our middle class to investing in early childhood education. So qualities of leadership, character and judgment play a larger role than usual.

Senator Obama has demonstrated these qualities throughout his more than two decades of public service, not just in the United States Senate but in Illinois, where he helped turn around struggling communities, taught constitutional law and was an elected state official for eight years. And Senator Obama is showing the same qualities today. He has built a movement that is changing the face of politics in this country, and he has demonstrated a special gift for inspiring young people — known for a willingness to volunteer, but an aversion to politics — to become engaged in the political process.

I have spent the past five years working in the New York City public schools and have three teenage children of my own. There is a generation coming of age that is hopeful, hard-working, innovative and imaginative. But too many of them are also hopeless, defeated and disengaged. As parents, we have a responsibility to help our children to believe in themselves and in their power to shape their future. Senator Obama is inspiring my children, my parents’ grandchildren, with that sense of possibility.

Senator Obama is running a dignified and honest campaign. He has spoken eloquently about the role of faith in his life, and opened a window into his character in two compelling books. And when it comes to judgment, Barack Obama made the right call on the most important issue of our time by opposing the war in Iraq from the beginning.

I want a president who understands that his responsibility is to articulate a vision and encourage others to achieve it; who holds himself, and those around him, to the highest ethical standards; who appeals to the hopes of those who still believe in the American Dream, and those around the world who still believe in the American ideal; and who can lift our spirits, and make us believe again that our country needs every one of us to get involved.

I have never had a president who inspired me the way people tell me that my father inspired them. But for the first time, I believe I have found the man who could be that president — not just for me, but for a new generation of Americans.

Caroline Kennedy is the author of “A Patriot’s Handbook: Songs, Poems, Stories and Speeches Celebrating the Land We Love.”

Economics 101

2008-01-22T23:28:00.000-05:00

I'm going to be brief. It's late and I should be in bed.
Thanks to Brunsli I was motivated to actually look at my retirement account. I do this far too infrequently. Shamefully, I have not been very proactive at all about managing this account even though it is the largest nest egg I have for the future. I don't even contribute to it anymore. When I left academia, I stopped depositing into this account and started a new one with another employer who worked with a different company--tomorrow's project is finding the info for that one.
Anyway, I have had a policy of benign neglect towards this money. I'm not clear on its terms--when I got it I was given a now forgotten explanation of why it couldn't be rolled over and somehow remained tied to the state of Tennessee. Making the best of it, I rationalized that meant I wouldn't be tempted to do anything wacky---like withdraw from it. I haven't really paid close attention to its distribution and when I left the University of Memphis the financial advisor stopped contacting me. I was surprised when I saw that I had the investment profile of a Golden Girl. There were several more aggressive funds that had yielded SUBSTANTIALLY higher rates of return than my spread.
Why the newfound interest? Since last week, I've been scared witless by all this recession talk. One of the first classes I took in college was Economics 101. Granted it was not a bright spot in my academic experience and I went on to do just as poorly in Economics 102--though strangely enough I got an A in the upper level econ course I was required to take for my major. My poor showing was largely due to my inability to make the same 'rational' decisions my textbook said people would make in the hypotheticals presented. And it seemed irrational to me that if I didn't think the way the theory predicted and I knew plenty of other people didn't make decisions the way macro- and micro- economic theory said we would, that it was IRRATIONAL to conclude that something was wrong with me instead of the theory...
But I digress. The most vivid memory I have from Econ 101 is a realization that American economics are cyclical in nature. I remember sitting in lecture, considering the gaps between previous downturns in the market, and making a mental note that we were due for one right around...well, now. I couldn't have imagined all the things that would happen to me between then and now. I figured by now I'd be a homeowner, a parent, and pretty well into a specific career. That isn't the case. I won't recap.
So I find myself unable to ignore all the recession rumbling because I am currently on track to become a sweet, old cat lady. Social Security is shot to hell. So being pragmatic, I realize I need --to paraphrase Wu Tang Financial-- to protect my neck. So I am. Finally.
Protect yours too...the sky may be falling...or at least sagging a little.

For MLK Day...

2008-01-19T09:16:00.001-05:00

This weekend, talk to people about who they are voting for and why.

No Country for (Old) Black Men

2008-01-17T17:14:00.001-05:00

This is so negroidian.

I have been meaning to write this post for a long time and hoping I wouldn't have to get to it. Apparently, I do. So I'll get started on this later. Meanwhile, discuss the myriad ways Bob Johnson has showed his @$$.

Convergences and conflicts...

2008-01-15T22:48:00.000-05:00

Of all nights, tonight I had a whole bunch of things I wanted to do at the same time, in different parts of the city. So I had to make some tough choices. Consequently, I've only seen the last hour of the debate---but I taped it for later. Let me know how you think it went from the start.

Sigh...

2008-01-13T18:48:00.000-05:00

I told you it was coming. And it is here. Bob Johnson shut up.

Part of me doesn't even want to waste the energy required to respond to this foolishness. But really, Hillary, really. Are you going to spend the next ten months pissing me off this way? Because if that's your plan, I'd really rather you didn't.

I thought you had 'found your voice?' But now it's Obama's fault that you made a club-footed, outrageously inappropriate comment about Martin Luther King, Jr. Please. Let me get this straight, if not that your comments--which were videotaped--were offensive, Obama has found a way to influence public perception of those comments. And he's accomplished this how? By saying nothing and leaving you try and pry your foot out of your own mouth. And all you can use your voice for is to point fingers at Obama. Stop it now.

And sending Bob Johnson out to throw mud at Obama? The SAME mud you said you wouldn't tolerate in your campaign. Plea-hee-hee-heeze.

Don't go this road. It is not becoming. At all. It makes you look, dare I say, shady and desperate and shook.

Aspiration...

2008-01-09T22:13:00.001-05:00

When did we stop aspiring? When did we stop looking in the mirror and seeing our own possibility? When did we decide to take over selling ourselves short and limiting our horizons? When did we give up on having? On being? On doing?

I was angry. But now I thank Hillary and Bill for getting me to do what I should have done months ago. I dipped into my 'allowance' and sent the Obama campaign a contribution. Not a lot. I don't have much. But I have enough do something.

Let me break it down...Black people can do what they will. They can go to Princeton. They can go to Harvard and be Law Review editor. They fall in love. They get married. They have babies and raise them together. They stand up, walk to the front of the room, take the podium and hold the floor. They can represent for everybody and remain true to themselves. They can say exactly what they mean to anybody about anything. They can be absolutely, undeniably impeccable and charming and sharp and fallible and witty and ready...

I want to know who you thought you were waiting for? When you close your eyes and imagine who would be right, who do you see? Now OPEN your eyes! Open your eyes.

I'm not even going to say that I'm going to vote for Obama--it's just my thing, I don't ever say this early that I will vote for anybody...I have until February 5th. But I am saying that I SUPPORT him. I don't think any candidate is perfect. But I know I am don't need Bill or Hillary to tell me who is 'electable.' And I damn sure don't need black people to tell me to hesitate supporting a candidate who deserves my support.

This man embodies everything that this country claims is requisite to be elected president. This woman is the baddest chick on high heels.

It would be outrageous enough to think that white people would not have the integrity to vote for this man. But is downright shameful and heartbreaking, to KNOW that there are black people who will not support him...and not because he isn't qualified. There are black people who will not support him because he IS qualified. Because of his education, because of his life experience, because of his self-assurance, because he has enough swagger to to run this race this way he wants to run it and not wait for ANYBODY's permission (I'm talking about you Jesse, and you Andrew Young, and you Bill and Hillary).

But those people can do what they want. And I know that they will. All I am responsible for is what I will do. Imagine what would happen if we all had enough AUDACITY to stand in our own light. Better yet, don't imagine...do that...

Hillary Clinton...

2008-01-08T14:37:00.000-05:00

has pissed me off.

Excuse my language. But did I hear correctly, did you actually insult the career of Martin Luther King, Jr- a man who was MURDERED because he was willing to WORK, not 'dream'- as you dismissively characterized- to make a rhetorical point about yourself? Are you seriously implying that this man did nothing of substance? And you said that to say what? That you were more qualified to be president?

Excuse me? If I'm not mistaken, you didn't take public office until 2001. And you didn't run in Arkansas where you lived for over twenty-five years. You didn't run in your home state of Illinois for the Senate seat Mr. Obama now holds. No you, Miss Thing, assembled a coalition of the willing and ran in New York. And I'm not knocking your hustle--nothing wrong with gettin' in where you fit in...but don't act like we don't know.

And, excuse me. I'm as emotional as the next one, I cry all the time. But no, you didn't get all farklempt about not wanting to see US 'fall behind,' not when you were drinking that front-runner Kool-Aid, but as soon as the campaign had a setback. Seems to me, the only one falling behind is YOU. Maybe they are just not that into you. How about that?

But that's not the only so-and-so that's ticked me off today. A big HELL no to Gloria Steinem. No, you did not write the most ahistoric, thinly veiled racist appeal I have read since the white suffragists decided not to fight for universal suffrage WITH black people, but for themselves.

Gloria, I know you are OLD enough to know that even though black men were 'given' the vote before white women, it took legal interventions well into the 20th century to make it possible for black people to actually exercise their right to cast the ballot. And I KNOW you did not mean to insinuate that black men were colluding with white men to deny an obviously SUPERIOR white woman access to office. That's not what you meant, is it Miss Anne, I mean Miss Steinem? And I KNOW you did not create a condescending, imaginary black female character to demonstrate how unqualified Obama is for office. No, that would be pitting black women against black men. And I KNOW you wouldn't bother doing that...it's beneath you AND we wouldn't fall for it anyway. I KNOW you are not suggesting that today Hillary Clinton is being discriminated against because she LOST, because you weren't saying that last week when everyone assumed she was the front-runner. What are you gonna do next? Run a Willie Horton ad so everyone will understand what a threat this black man is to white women everywhere?

And Bill Clinton. I see you. I had forgiven you for disappointing me so many times when you were in office. But today you were out suggesting that Obama wasn't 'playing fair.' What? I know y'all aren't susceptible to those kinds of sour grapes. You are one of the cleverest political strategists in the game. You mean you were out-gamed by an 'inexperienced' rookie with some freshman tricks? Not you, Bill. You and Hillary took on a 'vast, right-wing conspiracy' but the Obama campaign has got y'all strung out already?

I hope I'm not gonna have to put folks on blast until November.

Get it straight. It's about to get real ugly around here. And we are going to see what's really hood in a minute.

Hillary, get it together. You are not entitled to this nomination. You are going to have to roll up your sleeves, stop condescending to your opponents and come up with a credible response. 35 years of experience? Please. As what, wife of Bill? Apparently, democratic voters are not willing to vote for you because they liked your husband. I am not suggesting that you need to wear pastel skirts and smile. But you will not impress anyone if you continue to come off like you can't regroup when faced with obstacles. I expect W to try that 'staying the course,' 'I'm the decider' trash. But really. Do I look like I would want more of the same from you? Do better boo, do better.

2008-01-04T20:06:00.001-05:00

Though I dreaded it, last week I went to see my grandmother's house.

In the background to the right you can see the pink installation Brad Pitt set up to draw attention to his redevelopment project. I wasn't planning to go there at all. I prefer seeing it on the Today show. But my cousin Bebe-- yes, I have one--needed a ride to our house on Christmas and specifically asked if I would pick her up. So after seeing the art installation-- you drive through it like the natural disaster version of Great Adventure Wild Safari, eh-- I took a deep breath and headed toward my grandmother's since it was on the way.

There are still no street signs. The installation is located in the same spot my father's mother lived for a short while on Jourdan Street. It was a sturdy, paint-worn house with the biggest yard ever. There was a huge tree. And when I close my eyes I see the oak leaves above my head and hear the creaky gate. I remember the view from the yard into the kitchen door and I remember the taste of her cooking---try as I might I cannot make rice like she did. Perfect long grains and always the best gravy over just about anything. I used the map hardwired in my head since childhood to count how many blocks to North Derbigny and then over ...is it one block or two? And now I'm disoriented. I look to my right and see a tan one story cottage with the remants of a terracotta colored roof. And I frown because that house is past my grandmother's...

I force myself to look to my left. I put the car in reverse and slowly back up the estimated length of three houses. That's where Gram house is. Was. I see a field of grass. In fact, I can see all the way past Reynes Street (pronounced like my name), Tennessee, and Deslonde to Brad's houses. That's when I look down to the pavement and see the numbers spray painted on the street.

This is where I drank six-ounce Cokes through a crazy straw; licked the cake batter out of the bowl while I watched Electric Company instead of going to school; soaked in the tub with Mr. Bubble and Zest soap, dried off with the 'good towels' and sprinkled way too much baby powder all over the floor. Here is where I tried on fancy hats, red lipstick, Estee Lauder perfume, and high heels then admired myself in a mirror with pictures of my cousins, shoulders draped in white fur stoles because they were graduating high school tucked in the corners.

Here is where I sat on the concrete porch playing jacks-- onesies and twosies while my Gram showed off by snatching eighties and ninesies before the ball hit the ground, flipping the jacks in the air and catching them on the back of her hand, then blowing my mind by doing the whole thing over but with a peach pit because she didn't have multicolored metal jacks and a bouncy rubber ball when she learned. It's where I slid around on the very same porch with the hose pipe in my Wonder Woman underoos while my PawPaw polished his new Impala. Where the rose bushes grew right up over the front window and the Claiborne Avenue bus passed all day and night long.

Here is where my grandfather mixed tobacco for his pipe sitting in his tweed covered recliner. And if I kissed his stubbled cheek and asked really sweeeeetly, he let me turn the huge, black and white, floor model Zenith to whatever I wanted. Even Mr. Rogers when the baseball game was on.

Here is where all my trophies from dancing school and science fair ended up on the dining room sideboard between the crystal punch bowl, fancy candle stickholders, dishes of peppermint candy, and bowl of big, fake plastic flowers.

This is where that is.

Ha!

2008-01-03T21:30:00.001-05:00

2008 is turning into my kind of year.

Day 3 has even more swagger than days 1 & 2.

I don't know about you, but I feel like there has been a change in our collective barometric pressure.

I am tilting on my axis!

Do...

2008-01-02T21:06:00.000-05:00

(This image is my mine; all rights reserved; copyright; yada, yada, ya. Do not copy without MY permission...lol. Seriously though. Don't jack my stuff)

I have tilted on my axis...

Rather than worrying or wondering, today I DID something to move closer to a passion I have always had. In the past, whenever it came to mind or conversation, I had a perfectly good reason why I couldn't do it...But today the only thing that mattered is that I want to do it. So I am moving toward it. And I pray it comes up to meet me.

Risk is relative. In some ways, I have taken some pretty big risks and stretched a lot further than others around me thought I would or could. But I have known for a long time that I was letting fear keep me from pushing past the only expectations that mattered...my own.

If you've ever stood at the end of a high diving board or the edge of a cliff, you will know the sensation I felt in February 1992. This jolt of panic ran through me when I realized that I had actually made it through college. Not a big deal to a lot of people. To get to that point I had to rebel against family, friends, teachers, counselors. After I graduated from high school, I walked into a pitch black alley. No one had any advice for me, I didn't know how I was going to make my way at all. But I took a deep breath and stepped into the darkness. How was I going to get to college? Literally. And then, how was I going to stay? I never even thought about finishing or what would happen after. Every cell in my body was focusing on holding steady exactly where I was. In the abstract I knew in four years I would graduate. But it was like the finish line of a marathon, seemingly so very far away at the outset.

Since I had no idea what to do next, I felt like I had ran right up to the end of the diving board. To the very edge of the cliff. Stopping short just before I got to the point solid ground ended beneath my feet. Even though I was proud of myself for graduating, I did not have a sense that I could fly. So I wobbled on the edge...

For me that meant staying in graduate school. At first, I really enjoyed it. It was such a treat to spend a year in Los Angeles learning about something I loved and not being worried about anything. I thought the next move would come to me there. It didn't. So I did what someone else suggested I do. Not a bad thing to do. But not what I wanted to do. It took me six more years of graduate school and teaching to finally give myself permission not to continue doing what I had started.

Right before Katrina I had quit my job. Which is part of the reason I got nearly no assistance. I had, in fact, gotten the opportunity to pursue what I actually wanted to do but hadn't felt I deserved to pursue. But with the water and wind went my opportunity... Once again I kicked rocks.

In some ways moving to New York was a small step back to the edge. I always wanted to live here. In fact, it was a youthful dream. I like living here but I would be content to live somewhere else and I'm not sure how long I'll stay. But the statement was simply moving here at all. It was my way of thumbing my nose at disaster and stamping my foot on the ground. Fine then. I'll move to New York and start over. Sigh. That took so much energy. I got here and almost collapsed into a puddle again. I satisfied myself by encouraging other people to pursue their dreams and focused my energy on just sweeping away the rubble in my head after the storm. I have been doing that up until now. My silly posts. My small comfortable bubble here in New York. But a realization that I had last New Year's Day came to pass. And the reality of that chain of events caused me to question my risk assessment strategy and my crisis management plan. And finally, it clicked. I am already in flight. The last illusion of solid ground beneath my feet crumbled on September 29, 2005. There are no safe distances from life. And the only thing required for me to have what I have dreamed about is my willingness to do it.

Everything that I lost was keeping me in fear-- fear that I would make a mistake and fail. But I have realized that you can do everything you SHOULD, prepare for every scenario ... and you will still not be safe. I say all this not as a statement of desperation, but liberation. A couple of nights ago I was channel surfing and found Fight Club on HBO. If you haven't seen it, it's about a young man who encounters his own extreme and is pushed past every boundary. It is a violent caricature. And a fabulous allegory. --Hey I like Kara Walker, don't be surprised I love this too. Anyway toward the end the protagonist confronts the antagonist with all the chaos and ruin that has been created and the protagonist says in reply, "If you want to make an omelette, you have to break some eggs." I heard it and sat bolt upright. I say this ... all the time. I forgot where I heard it, but not that it directly spoke to me. In the movie the characters go on a psychotic spree. I have no intention of doing that. But I finally understood why that one-liner has been bouncing around my head for so long. Until I am willing to confront myself, until I am able to tolerate the certain terror and chaos that will ensue, I will never have the fulfillment of finding out whether I can fly. I could fall onto the rocks below or hit my head at the bottom of the pool. But really. That is the worst that can happen. And metaphorically speaking, I've already been pushed over the edge. Hell, literally speaking.

And I open my eyes and find that I am still here and still in motion. I must still be alive. And possibly, I have discovered that these wings I have work.

The Year of Tyler Durden

2007-12-31T23:47:00.000-05:00

Happy New Year to Everyone.

I am declaring 2008 my Year of Tyler Durden. It's about time I served some omelettes in my life, so I am going to break some eggs. My goal this year is to let my voice be heard, ensure my needs are fulfilled and my dreams realized.

My first act of 2008-- ginger ale and caviar...

What I want for Christmas

2007-12-20T12:25:00.001-05:00

I have been very good.

Deal Alert

2007-12-19T00:20:00.000-05:00

I just found an amazing deal on a LeCreuset 5.75 quart oval cast iron dutch oven. They are on sale online at JC Penney for 89.99 -- of course, they are on back order but completely worth the wait. Now I have to decide whether I'm going to keep the 2.75 quart I got last night from Macy's for 79.99 -- also a great price. On the one hand, I would have two...on the other, it's just me, I only need one.
What do you say?

edit-- OK. Completely ignore what I posted the item on sale at JC Penney is for baking. It is not the cast iron dutch oven. It is still a good price, but not what I wanted. So it seems Macy's has the best deal on this one. But I'm keeping my eyes open for the 5.75 quart. Let me know if you see a good deal!

The Coup...

2007-12-11T19:21:00.000-05:00

Ooooh weee. I was very, very naughty. While I was looking for a present for Santa, I saw these!!! I've seen them before, but this time I saw them in a different light.

Sigh, ever so often I have a twinge, a pang of discomfort when I realize that --gasp-- I am getting older. My winter clothes from last year don't fit very well. So I have been re-evaluating my wardrobe on many levels. As much as I enjoy fashion and beauty products and hair stuff, I have to admit I go to work looking pretty schleppy most days. Unless I have a meeting planned, I'm pretty likely to throw on jeans, flat boots, and a sweater or pullover for work. If it weren't so cold, I'd wear a skirt and tights. But it is cold.

Anyhow. A few shopping excursions ago I found myself making some last minute, quick purchases and during the bus ride home it occurred to me that a woman over thirty-five maybe shouldn't be buying clothes at a store called Forever 21. That Amanda Bynes cords from Steve and Barry weren't exactly the desired fashion statement I should be making--though I wear those pants twice a week! And then I watched my Tim Gunn episode...It was the last of the season. A woman of 43 who wore very slutty, junior-sized clothes because she thought it made her look young and sexy. Ugh. She looked tired and played out and-- as Veronica Webb so poetically described-- like a desperate old cougar heehee. Now I definitely don't have a slutty problem. But maybe I am dressing too young. And maybe even though I do spend most of my day in my office, I really should dress like a grown-up at work for sure and even retire my t-shirts for the weekend. As Meg Ryan said, I'm going to be forty...one day. I don't want it to catch me with my slip hanging... I want to be fly. And I need to start now so I can build up momentum.

So I've been editing my closet. Taking out things I don't like, don't wear and don't need. Wrong size? Easy to get rid of--divide into worth altering and donate. Haven't worn? Also not too painful, usually I look at the item in question and think "what was I thinking when I bought that?" Or I ask myself, "does that look like something you're going to wear in the near future?" The hard category are semi-formal dresses. Note to self: no more 'one event' dresses. That was for my twenties. If it isn't fabulous enough that I want to wear it again and feel more fabulous rather than like I'm re-treading. Don't need...Now that's emotional. These are things that maybe I AM wearing, but need to let go of... I've been trying to get my friend J over for some tough talk about my wardrobe--you need someone who loves you enough to tell you "you look a fool in that." But I haven't been able to pin her down. So I'm trying to do it myself.

But what not to wear is cake compared to trying to figure out I want to wear and how I want to look. The only way to figure out what I do want to wear is to look around. Look at myself critically. Look at the clothes I'm attracted to and at the clothes I've been overlooking.

Staple, core items have been a hole in my new wardrobe. The foundation pieces that hold everything together have just been hard to find. Classic, tailored styles are great. I'm a sucker for weekender suits--jacket, pants AND a skirt. So I'm always on the look-out for those. A couple of great pairs of jeans. Black pants, skirt. Brown pants, skirt. Gray pants, skirt. I'm on the hunt for navy pants and skirt. Tops are traumatic...I'm not ready to talk about that yet. It's really bad. Really bad. And I am entirely devoid of good belts and handbags.

But shoes have triggered an identity crisis too. Many of the shoes I bought in Virginia are just all wrong for the way I live in New York. I'm not one to tote a second pair of shoes around. So I have all but abandoned stiletto styles. My beautiful shoes are packed away unworn. Unless I am driving, I just can't wear three inch heels. I could very well end up walking uphill or a few flights of stairs. I am not the kind of woman who is willing to have sore feet to look cute so... I need comfortable shoes. At first, I was getting an unhealthy preoccupation with Aerosoles. They are great for flat boots. In fact, I alternate between my black leather and brown suede flats most work days. Very practical. And I am very practical. But I'm also very against-the-grain. I like things that embody both sides...

I been realizing way too frequently that I don't have a good pair of fall-winter shoes that can go dressy or office or weekend effortlessly. I have some suede booties--Aerosoles--that are great. But not shoes. I love Mary Janes. They are practical and against-the-grain. I wanted some ponyhair, open-toed Manolo Blahnik Mary Janes-- those are the business! But I am not detached from reality. I cannot afford these....yet! Just wait till I pay off these damn credit cards and student loans. I am going to put hurt on the shoe departments at Nordstrom's and Neiman Marcus. But I digress... I do need a pair of Mary Janes that are so fly that they can look grown-up and funky. And lo, the Fara Pump from Coach! Whoo hoo. I take very good care of my shoes, so I hope to enjoy these for many years to come. Yes, the black ones are nearly sold out-- Coach always does these maddening short runs on shoes, but that also means everyone isn't rocking your shoes-- but I snagged a pair on the low. Yes, indeed. These will do till I get my Manolo paper straight...

Kara Walker...

2007-12-07T16:45:00.000-05:00

Today I was hoping to go to the Whitney Museum--today is pay-as-you-wish admission--but the weather is bad, so I'm playing it by ear. They are exhibiting the work of one of my all-time favorite artists, Kara Walker.

If you will be in NYC anytime before February 3rd, by all means go to the Whitney and check out her installations. If not, there are published images. But her work is really best seen as a large room size installation.

Her images are provocative and bold. There is no way to look at her work and remain unaffected. What I like best about her work and choice of medium is that it puts the responsibility of interpretation squarely upon the viewer. What you see in her work is largely a product of your own beliefs, prejudices, fears, and desires.

Ha ha ha

2007-12-03T17:59:00.000-05:00

When I told Mrs. Claus about my new television, she laughed. "Your television is smaller than your laptop screen!" Indeed. Mrs. Claus insisted I return the television I had and let Santa pay for one at least as big as the one that died. Wow. Thanks Mrs. Claus!
So back my set went. Now I have a bigger one. Just in time for the special holiday episode of The Closer tonight.

Santa and Mrs. Claus

2007-12-01T17:52:00.000-05:00

When I told Mrs. Claus that my television was broken, you would have thought I told her I was being evicted. Before I even finished talking about trying to find a repair person, Mrs. Claus announced that Santa would be getting me a new one. Really? Now... Mrs. Claus just made Santa reimburse me for my airline ticket--which he grumbled about--Santa thinks I'm too old for gifts, especially since I have a job. But what Mrs. Claus says...goes. I have helped Santa paint. I have helped Santa lay down a new wood laminate floor. All because Mrs. Claus said make it so. I have seen Santa hang his head on Christmas eve and go out for a gallon of milk, a quart of oysters, a dozen eggs...Because I told Mrs. Claus I needed it to cook whatever it was she put on her holiday menu. Yep. Santa had to jump to it. He's lucky he didn't have a cell phone or Mrs. Claus would have called him while he was out to get more things that she thought of while he was away. And when he got back, Santa dare not go to bed before he started Mrs. Claus' pot of gumbo.

Even though The Clauses are going to give me the money, I still thought it would be unnecessarily extravagant for me to get a fancy TV. After a lot of internet searching, I figured out the features I should look for and the size I was comfortable with and decided on a price I was willing to pay. I headed out to Big Box Retailer in New Jersey--because it's too hard to park in Manhattan and because I wanted to take the drive. Sigh. Even though I lived in New Jersey for four years, I still managed to get lost...for like an hour. But finally I got there.

Even with a list, I nearly got pulled into the vortex. There were so many TV's! I'm so glad I did some research first. I was already aware of the change from analog to digital that will take place in 2009, but I was not at all clear about the alphabet soup--SDTV, EDTV, HDTV, CRT, LCD--sheesh. I had some minimum specs for resolution so I ruled out about six sets right away. Then there were three pathetic sets nobody was interested in--they were not up-to-par technically and therefore 'not worth buying-- and they were HEAVY. Everyone was crowded on the opposite end of the display aisle. When I got there, I found one of the models on my list...but right next to it was a larger version from the same manufacturer. Ay caramba! Unfortunately, the larger one was sold out. Darn it. It would have been worth the extra money. But that meant I was distracted by the larger sets. I put the model on my list in the cart, but I started thinking how much more I would be willing to pay for a larger set. I found a set that's about as big as I could carry or need in my apartment, but it was twice the price of the one on my list. In the end, I stuck with my budget and got the set on my list. It was reduced an additional $25 too! So at the end of the day, the amount I spent on the TV could be deducted from my cash allowance for this month--especially since I'll be spending part of the month eating at the Clauses. So now I'm catching up on Oprah, cool. Did y'all see the show with the hoarders?!

It started short...

2007-12-01T09:21:00.000-05:00

Unfortunately, it is possible to get bad work from a consultant...for a variety of reasons. In some cases, I think they get lazy. In others, I think they get arrogant and figure they know what they are doing just as well as 'that JoAnne' and they are going to what they want to do.

I just wish that these 'consultants' would tell their customers that they make this deviation or that change, so we can make informed decisions.

I wrote awhile back about an amazing braider that I know. She was actually teaching me to braid. She had developed her own parting pattern and her braids were unique and beautiful. She decided to use HER braiding pattern when she did 'sisterlocks.' The problem--her pattern did not leave straight, grid-like parts. It didn't look bad. But it wasn't the Sisterlock pattern. The shape of her parts meant you ended up with fewer total locks and no center or side parts for styling... But she didn't tell her clients about her variation. It was only because I met a consultant using the correct technique that I even had a point of reference. The braider felt that because of her considerable experience as a braider she could make whatever variation she wanted.

And I've talked to other locticians who feel the same way-- I sat next to a very obnoxious woman during my consultant training class who was openly talking with her companion about the changes she was going to make to the technique--if she even offered it at all-- back in her own lock shop. She wasn't going to do all that parting...she wasn't going to make locks that small...she wasn't going install so many. She hadn't even left the room! I can only imagine what kind of mess she's up to now-- and she IS a trainee consultant because she did, in fact, take the official class.

If at all possible, talk to a few people before choosing a consultant. Sometimes the best person for the job is a trainee. Like doctors, sometimes there are quacks and sometimes newly minted MDs are more up-to-date and careful with their technique. But we also know that trainees make rookie mistakes too.

I think the common denominator are personality traits...no offense. I think stubbornness and/or a lack of humility and/or vanity and/or carelessness lead to this problem.

Is this your consultant?

1-- If you don't listen to anybody else and always digging in your heels, you are going to make mistakes...you have to listen to learn the Sisterlocks technique.

2-- Relatedly, if you cannot bear to have people think you don't understand (a classic case of I-know-expertitis), you are going to make mistakes...you have be willing to ask questions and start learning the technique comfortable with the idea you are learning something NEW.

3-- If you think you should be JoAnne Cornwell or Taliah Waajid, you are going to make mistakes. YOU need to create your own system or product and stop swagger-jacking --LocLoops, sorry couldn't help it. Offering someone a service is NOT about you and your need for people to recognize your hair genius.

4-- If you are careless or just not a details-oriented person or you just have poor motor skills (smile), you are going to make mistakes. You need to have an acumen for doing close work, you need to ENJOY the idea of being precise, and you need to have the capability to understand and do the technique. If you have a little arthritis...this is not for you.

5-- If you get easily frustrated or if you don't notice when you make a mistake until someone else tells you, you are going to make mistakes.

So...did I just describe your consultant?

Lastly, if your potential consultant offers other services than Sisterlocks --palm-rolled, nappylocs, etc.-- I would ask them SPECIFICALLY if they follow the Sisterlock method during their installations. I would ask them what they thought were the differences between the techniques they offered. Usually those kinds of direct questions will give you an opportunity to find out whether the person is straightforward and/or ethical about what they are doing. 1) Do they use the Sisterlocks tool? 2) Do they use a Sisterlocks sizing chart? 3) Do they start the installation in the front of your head? 4) How many locks do they typically install?

Even if you don't know the answers to these questions yourself, you are looking at their demeanor... Does it seem like this person is trying to blow some smoke up... anyway. That loctician I met who tried to convince me that my Sisterlocks were going to break off because they were too small...eventually you'll meet one of those too. It's rite of passage like having someone rush up and TOUCH your hair without asking.

As soon as I asked her HOW she knew that...Then her game was blown..."Oh cuz somebody told me that they knew somebody who had Sisterlocks and they broke off and you don't ever see anybody who has sisterlocks longer than three years." Really? Really? Sure enough, this dizzy chick didn't know a damn thing about Sisterlocks--the technique or the logic beneath it. She wanted me to get scared and let her --of course-- fix my hair. That's one of the reasons JoAnne Cornwell says she is growing her hair so long--so people can see that they do not break, that they are not too small.

I'm coming to join you, Elizabeth...

2007-11-28T20:03:00.000-05:00

So my TV is not quite dead. It unpredictably will come on for around 45 minutes to an hour, then fade out. I don't have a remote so I don't know if I inadvertently set off a sleep feature--or if it even has a sleep feature...

Anyway...I've decided to ask Santa for a new set. This weekend if I can figure out a game plan, I will try to take this behemoth to a repair shop. Maybe it just needs a swift kick. It says it was manufactured in 1998, so I am prepared for the worse.

Why didn't the set die last week when I was off from work and could have caught one of those Black Friday sales?

I will not be defeated though. Even though it's absolutely wretched, I am watching America's Next Top Model on my emergency TV...

I can hear you asking...What is an emergency TV?? It was gift from my mother who picked it up probably from Rite Aid or a 99-cent store. It has a five-inch B/W screen, an am-fm radio, and an antenna. It runs on D-batteries or with an AC adapter. It's no joke. Whenever I leave my house for a drive of more than forty miles from where I live, the emergency TV is in the trunk. When New York had that big blackout, I was sitting in my car watching the news. Reporters saying over and over how dark it was... Anyhow, I brought the emergency TV to work but I feel weird listening to Wendy Williams in my office. And I can't watch Maury either. So I figured what use is it there anyway and brought it home.

I am sincerely hoping I can stick it out for a month at least if I can't get this set repaired. Then I could catch an after-Xmas sale or a pre-Superbowl Blow-out sale. I am an optimist.

Why am I blogging about my TV? Well, these mundane things are manageable. And small. It's just a TV. But my TV is my alarm system, my cat-sitter, my entertainment center, my time waster...so I care about it. Stay tuned...haha.

I'm really scared...

2007-11-27T21:46:00.000-05:00

ok...not scared but concerned and perhaps prematurely concerned. I have a potential situation...

There is something wrong with my television. This all kinds of wrong for all kinds of reasons. Not the least of which is timing. This is the absolute worst time or year for my television to blow. I have to buy gifts for other people, I have charities appealing, all on top of my my usual expenses. I have not budgeted for a new television set.

The first thing I did was plug it into a different outlet. It worked for about 45 minutes then faded out again. Sigh. I have no idea how old this set is or what could be its problem. I suppose if its really fading, I'll take it to the repair place around the corner. But that's going to require lots of orchestration. This thing is huge. I can't carry it. So now what? Find some kid in the building to help me I guess. Sigh. i really am slipping into spinsterhood. I can see it now. "Come here sweetheart. I need you to help me with something." It even sounds like an old lady appeal. It worked when I needed my car shoveled out of the snow though...

In the meantime...what will I do about my favorite shows? Actually I think they are still OK. They'll just get backed up on the DVR.

But a new TV....

A new TV would mean I don't have to carry the TV anywhere. I could put it out next to the incinerator chute, where I'm sure it would be immediately rescued. Or I could put it in the kitchen and turn it into a place to sit my plants on a stick post-it notes to until I did find a mover. And...I would be ready for the switch from analog to digital which happens in 2009. And...I'd probably end up with something lightweight and stylish. Hmm.

What can I say...

2007-11-24T23:12:00.001-05:00

I'm curious to have a discussion about this, so I figured I'd post this and get some of your reactions.

Andre J is on the cover of French Vogue with model Carolyn Murphy. Of course, there is a flurry of discussion about this. As you read this, I am doing a little more internet research on Andre J. I have seen his picture for months, but I don't really have a clear idea of what he's about yet.
Perhaps some of you know more about him and can leave some comments.

Of course, there is the obvious, the 'problem' of black-man-in-drag has been on my mind since I was in graduate school. I'm sleepy now, but the earliest example that comes to my mind is Flip Wilson as Geraldine all the way to Jamie Foxx and Martin Lawrence, and the embarrassment of Eddie Murphy. I've always been deeply offended by these 'characterizations.' Not because I can't take a joke, but because I find something deeply problematic about black male performers mocking black women to get laughs. I find it grotesque and vicious. It is the literal emasculation of black male comedians by way of a misogynist assault on black women. Dave Chappelle offered a blistering critique of Hollywood's fascination with this type of spectacle when he appeared on the Actor's Studio. He refuses, he says to 'put on the dress.' Chappelle describes this critical moment when black male comedians are goaded to clown in drag and how he absolutely refused to participate. I love Dave Chappelle. Anyhow, to me it's like a reformulation of blackface.

But on the other hand, there is a very subversive tradition of black gay men in drag that is NOT about misogyny, but about subversion. RuPaul's MAC campaign, the Paris is Burning documentary exploring ball culture in the late 80s...that is undeniably about fascination and exaltation and exploration of black female representation. With absolutely no misogyny against black women. These acts are about aspiration and celebration. Black female representation--and to a lesser extent black women themselves--represents a challenge to the restrictions imposed by society based on class, race, sex, and gender. It is an upset where black female representation instead of occupying a role of degradation, is set up as subversive and superior. The ultimate reversal.

Andre J is not aspiring to 'realness' like the kids in Paris is Burning. He is obviously a man in a wig and a dress. He wears a beard. And while he summons some of the 'fabulousness' of RuPaul, he is not 'performing' or in character. RuPaul often appears and acts in roles out of drag--so "RuPaul" has become a character that he assumes.

No, it's not Andre J that bugs me. It is trying to figure out what cultural work Vogue is trying to put his image to that bugs me. Is it similar to that of the comedian in drag or is it something else? And is Andre J controlling his representation or being taken up into something different than his own intent? And what does it mean that Andre J is positioned next to a white woman on a magazine franchise that is legendarily stingy about using black WOMEN models? And what does it mean that a black man is editor in chief of American Vogue at the same moment? Hmm.

Outlast, outwit, outplay...

2007-11-22T09:43:00.000-05:00

These were taken on Day 23- Tuesday.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

So much has happened in the past two years. Some days it feels like another lifetime and others it like a blur. Tuesday at Thanksgiving Mass-- our pastor joked that he was not going to stand in church alone on Thursday, so service would be two days before --we were challenged to be grateful for our lives and the people around us. There is no way I can say that some days are not difficult. But I know, if someone rewound time and gave me the opportunity not to have been in New Orleans--not to have lost what I had or to have seen some of the saddest days, memories that can still make me cry-- I wouldn't change anything. Because I was there, I have my family. And they have each other. This year has been a bit more abstract, but in time I will be confident that the choices I made were also worth whatever disappointment I have experienced.

This morning on the Today show there was a rabbi who said it is possible to be both disappointed AND grateful--and I understood exactly what he meant. There is so much more to do, but I am so grateful for where things are right now. My parents are back in their home, my grandmother is with them--not always happy about it--and she has their support. Their house is rebuilt and it is home again. I even got my scalawag cats back! Everyone on my parents' block is on a first-name basis with Sam, and he comes and goes as he pleases. Nairobi is here everyday when I get home from work. And as, ahem, eventful as my job has been, I am so grateful that I have been able to start the work of re-establishing myself professionally and financially; that I have INSURANCE and I have been able to deal with the post-traumatic stress symptoms that made last year so very challenging. I am grateful for my friends. They have been so supportive and each in their own way has helped me get through these days. And I include anyone who has read this blog and left a comment.

When I started doing this, it was just a way for me get writing again. To express myself and figure out if I could reconnect with writing. But it literally became a lifeline. This blog was literally how my friends found out I was even alive. How I stayed in touch with the outside world when my family and I were living in a motel room, my parents and I sleeping on the floor for three weeks so my grandmother could have the bed. It was how I stayed sane during so much this year.

But the greatest gift was being able to NOT write about what was happening. Of all things, writing about my hair gave me something else to do and think about for awhile. There were familiar faces--Brunsli and RDP--that I got to reconnect with and so many new friends--some I've met or talked to offline, others I just ''know" virtually. Chatting with you all about hair and the other silliness I write about here, has gotten me through a lot of days. THANK YOU SO MUCH. I have been inspired, annoyed, enlightened, and amused by the people I have 'met' through this blog. So I want you to know that. Reading the comments you all leave, following the links to the maze of blogs I like to follow, commenting on the mundane and amazing things you all write about has been wonderful!

So...I have washed and re-set my hair...lol. I am off to express my thanks to some other folks. To scam some turkey and finally wash my daggone dishes and wash my daggone clothes. Yes, I plan to do laundry today--I'm out of clean underwear...lol.

ENJOY your Thanksgiving. Laugh at your crazy relatives and the overcooked turkey. Eat the mystery casserole. I'm still on culinary strike...but maybe next year I'll be back in the kitchen making oyster dressing, turkey AND ham, stuffed peppers, okra gumbo, pumpkin pie, rum cake and eggnog. Makes me tired and hungry just thinking about it. But I am going to stick some Glad-loc containers and Zip-loc bags in my purse and have a great time eating someone else's cooking this year! Yes, I'm the guest who brings her own containers. It's polite, I don't want to take yours...lol. *I'm kidding, I was told in advance I should take leftovers! I'm not that nutty.*

Question...

2007-11-19T13:49:00.000-05:00

How do you know it's time to do laundry?
Renea: You run out of underwear.

How do you know it's time to wash dishes?
Renea: When you open the cabinet to get a bowl, it's completely empty.

How do you know when it's time to make groceries?
Renea: Hey, cher, you must be from New Orleans too--making groceries and all....You make groceries when you open the refrigerator door and see the bare bulb.

So, last question, how do you know when it's time to wash your hair?
Renea: I used to know. When my hair goes flat. But now I'm having a terrible problem...I set my hair on those Wrap-A-Locs 22 days ago. It's still curly. So I haven't washed my hair...I haven't thought about it at all.

So now I have to set an arbitrary day to wash my hair...even if it looks good?! Frown. I looked in the mirror this morning and realized my head needed a good scrubbing, fluffed my ponytail curls and headed out.

What next? Doing laundry every week and washing dishes everyday?! These Wrap-A-Locs are going to completely upset my chi.

Truth, opinion, fact, libel

2007-11-17T19:43:00.000-05:00

NewlyLocd said...

Hello Renea

Just wanting you to know that I assumed that the soft spikes product wasn't seen by Carole. She never told me that she hadn't seen the product. I feel that this has really received a lot of attention (both harsh words & good discussion) over something that was merely something that I wanted to do to get the name out.

Well get the name out I did, but I never wanted anyone (or felt that anyone in our community) would start harrassing or saying negative statements (even libel I believe) towards another community member.

However, just wanted to clarify that I never discussed if it was original or not but what I personally felt (because that's all I can respond too).

6:29 PM

@newlylocd--
I guess you'll have to clarify about the harassment and libel. Nothing I have written is libelous. I am posting your comment rather than leaving it where it can't be seen because you are relaying that your comment about an exchange you posted on LockItUp (Message #51084) is inaccurate. In that message you said specifically that you had a conversation with her and that she said it was an "original" idea and that it was made for "non-european hair."

If that anyone has relied upon that as true, then I wanted them to see that you are correcting that. Just like I wanted them to see the entirety of my messages to Carole and the entirety of her response. So everyone can form their own opinion of what I said and what she said and of her product. It was not libelous for me to say what you posted before, it WAS said. Everything that I said took place, did. And truth is not libel. I was very careful to preface that someone posted to the list that she had not seen the product. I concluded that she hadn't after seeing the order confirmation.

But even if you hadn't posted that and I hadn't seen the order information, I would have thought she saw the other product because they look the same and I don't believe that is coincidental. A lot of people reacted the same way and their comments weren't libelous either. I published my own writing which I have the right to do and I gave Carole fair warning that I would convey whatever she wrote to me.

If you are implying that anything *I* have done is harassment, I would respectfully disagree. I wrote my opinions on LockItUp and my blog, and posted copies of messages I sent to Carole expressing my views and asking for her reply. The content of these messages was that I was not going to buy her product because of the price, that I had questions about the representation of her product as unique, that I thought she had a poor business plan and a weak basis for a patent. I also wrote that she had changed the content of her blog and posted a link to an earlier iteration to verify that. None of that harms her business in anyway.

When representatives of the beef industry claimed Oprah Winfrey had libeled their enterprise by saying SHE was not going to eat it anymore and claimed that her comments had harmed their industry, they lost. If Oprah can express her negative opinion to millions of broadcast viewers who hang on her every word, I can certainly say what I don't like or won't be buying on my little blog. Since everyone who read my comments knows that I have not purchased or used LocLoops, they can decide for themselves how useful my comments are. I said the price was high, because I think DOUBLE the price of a competitor's product is high. I reacted to the black-owned marketing strategy and I stand by what I said. I do not appreciate any black owned business coming half-ass into the marketplace. If people think that describes this business based on what I presented, ok. But they could just as easily decide that they disagree with everything that I wrote and totally dismiss me and my opinions.

I posted a copy of my message to the list because the conversation started there and I wanted people who were participating in the discussion to see what I wrote to the owner of the business. I also wanted to wind down the conversation on the list. I did not post anything else about the product on LockItUp. I waited five days before sending a second message and I did not call attention to my posting on LockItUp. Two contact attempts does not constitute harassment. And I posted the content of our messages because I thought it was only fair for everyone to see not only the response, but what I asked and how I asked.

As I said to Carole, there is a difference between someone saying things that another doesn't like or care to hear and being attacked. I have every right to say what my opinion is of a product or a business or a marketing strategy. I can say what I don't like and I can say why.

Businesses are not entitled to only having positive comments written about them or their services. What I posted is no different than sites like Yelp, where people share their opinions about restaurants. I could write here that I believe Wal-Mart is a blood-sucking parasite that has systematically crippled every community it has moved into...if that is my opinion, that is my opinion.

So now I am even more annoyed by the topic of LocLoops. EVERYTHING I wrote is going to stay on my blog. My opinion of the product, price and marketing strategy remain the same. I am not going to buy them. And if anyone asks me, I will tell them why.

Longest post ever...the case of LocLoops

2007-11-15T21:33:00.000-05:00

This post will be a long one. I hope--if you are interested-- you will slog through it. I have spent the past week getting more information for this post. Why? Because I was bothered about LocLoops. So if you read this entire post, I will relay everything I found out. And I will post the reply of Carole Pearson--owner of LocLoops--to my second email to her as well as my last message to her.

I tell you about all the hair and beauty products I try. This was the first time I had something critical to say so I wanted to make sure I had all the information I could get. Honestly, I hoped I would learn something that would change my initial reaction. But I didn't. You can think what you want about all this...I was going to do a price analysis like I did about the expense of SLs...but y'all can add and subtract...sigh...

Some of you know that last Wednesday a new group member posted on LockItUp about the 'new' product their stylist had 'created,' called LocLoops. Being curious, I followed the link. When I got there I was surprised because they looked exactly like a product I bought over two years ago called SoftSpikes. The product looked the same, heck, the style photos looked the same. Then I saw this and my face scrunched because I was accustomed to this.

So I went back to LockItUp and wrote that I thought these products were the same except that these 'new' ones were more expensive. And I asked for clarification...Did you say the person selling LocLoops created them? Doesn't she know there is a product exactly like that called SoftSpikes? And the customer came back to the list and wrote that the stylist said, 1) she had never heard of SoftSpikes and, 2) she created LocLoops herself and developed them for over a year by testing them on her clients. Really?

Well, that was all the customer knew. So it became clear I would have to check this out on my own...

I went back to the site. And I read this. And I grew increasingly annoyed. Why was I annoyed? Well, let's read together. In the first sentence of the first paragraph, we are told that this is a black-owned business...ok. And then we are told this product is a "new" way to style locs. Really?

Onto the next paragraph..."LocLoops are made from a special material specifically designed for the heavier requirements of locs. Using a material that is 'closed cell' to prevent absorption of any liquids or hair products..." Really?

You all know I used to teach black feminist theory, literary and visual analysis? Didn't I tell you that? Anyway...I spent many, many years learning, and then teaching others, to look very closely at all kinds of texts for what is really being conveyed to them through what is specifically denoted and implicitly connoted. Fancy words for what is said and what isn't. And these two paragraphs were something to chew on...

From MY reading, by my interpretation, the most emphasized points on this page are 1) this is a black owned business, 2) this is a NEW product, and 3) it is made of something UNIQUE for locked hair. But there is a problem...it is not a new product and it appears to be made of the very same material as its predecessor. In fact, there are three things different about LocLoops compared to SoftSpikes-- 1) it is a black owned business, 2) it has notches in it that are supposed to lock them closed, and 3) they cost more.

Last week, the website also said that LocLoops was a trademarked product with a patent-pending. It no longer says that. But it has been evasions like this that have bothered me about this whole situation. I'm sure Ms. Pearson is aware that every iteration of a website remains accessible thanks to the marvels of Google. So you can read what the page used to say for yourself here.

I am giving you all these links and encouraging you to look at them yourself. Ms. Pearson suggests --in her message reprinted below-- that I will not be fair to her. I am a lot of things. Unfair is not one of them. So I feel it necessary to give you these links to illustrate the path that brought me to my opinions. And that makes this very long...But I digress...

I said everything I wanted to say about the black-owned marketing strategy on LockItUp. In sum, I think in this case it as an appeal to sell a product. I was disappointed by that. Growing up, I was taught that minorities have always had to achieve a higher standard to compete. I not only internalized that, I embraced it. So when I patronize a black-owned enterprise, I have high expectations that I will have a positive experience based upon the owner's desire to offer a superior product. When I get that, I tell everybody--EVERYBODY--about that business and that product. I patronize them. I do all I can to support their success. But it's a two-way street. If you want my business, I expect that you are offering a superior product and a superior experience. Based on price alone, LocLoops was not offering that. When I heard this story about the owner having no prior knowledge of Soft Spikes, I thought either it wasn't true or that if it were true, the business owner was in way over her head--manufacturing and attempting to patent a product that she then had to retail at a significantly higher price than her competition... not good. I was leaning toward it not being true. But I wanted to be wrong. So I reached out to Ms. Pearson by posting my questions about her product development and writing her through her website. I also wrote to the owner of Soft Spikes because I wanted their perspective about all this and because she had been so responsive to the locked community's interest in her product...

That's when things got more interesting. I was sent the shipping confirmation number and order information that showed Soft Spikes were purchased and delivered to the same address as Ms. Pearson's business on November 12, 2006. Though she told her customer last week, that she never heard of SoftSpikes. Now Ms. Pearson is certainly free to say whatever she likes. But it seemed odd to me that she would go to such lengths to deny knowledge of a competing product and that she would say such a thing to her own customers.

Maybe it was because Ms. Pearson claims to be seeking a patent on her product. Brunsli is far more capable of giving an expert explanation of patents. All I did was a little internet researching. What I quickly found was that in order to patent a product, it had to be original or modified in a way that is not obvious. So which was the basis for Ms. Pearson's patent application? I asked her. And she won't say...So, here's my opinion. If your SoftSpikes slip open--and mine don't--it wouldn't be a leap to cut a notch in them to stop that from happening. Of course, it would also make it more likely your roller would break at the weak point...so I don't know if that's necessarily an improvement either. Oh well, you can still get a patent on a new product, right? Maybe that's why Ms. Pearson emphasizes that her product is new. But she knew about a similar product since at least last year. Hmm. But they are made of a special material, right? Maybe. But it's not a material Ms. Pearson developed. So she can't be patenting that either. In fact, her competitor's product is also made of a 'closed cell' material. Sigh.

Patent applications aren't cheap. I know Brunsli could give more specific information about that too. But I imagine that's the impetus behind the price of LocLoops. Someone has to pay the lawyers. I guess it as well be whoever buys the product.

So how do you sell a product that is twice that of its competition? Marketing...I've addressed everything else and that brings back to the black-owned bit. But I don't think I need to elaborate on that. I think I've described exactly how I got here.

All that's left is to let Ms. Pearson respond. So here you go...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Received Thursday, November 14, 2007

Renea Henry,
I was happy to give more information about my product to you, but the
more I read of your note, including the blatant attacks and empty
conclusions, the more I thought otherwise. My heart was warmed that a
customer took it upon themselves to share my product with the
audience at LockItUp. But I have never made claims on my product
outside of my website. Based on your notes, it is clear to me you
have made up your mind about my product, and I do not feel that any
information I provide will be presented fairly on your blog. Your
conclusions are based on assumptions, they are false and your claims
are clearly biased. However, for the sake of closure, I will supply
some information below.
Here are my responses:

1) "Similarity in Design & No prior knowledge of other products"
I made no such claims. You're trying to make this about Loc Loops and
one other product, but this should be about creating rollers that
work. Loc Loops is a product that I created because other products on
the market did not work for my hair. I then shared that creation with
my clients around the country.

2) "High" unit price
This is relative. The price of this product reflects the durability
and lifetime of the product based on other rollers/curlers on the
market.

3) Patent Questions
I am not willing to discuss patents with you. Our lawyers are
handling our position as it relates to the market.

This should bring our discussions to a close.
Regards,
Carole Pearson
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Carole,

There were no attacks in my message toward you and I was candid about
my response to your product because I was being honest. Based on the
representations of your product on your website, I do not think its
design is original. That isn't an attack. That's my opinion. There is
no bias either. There is a difference between someone giving their
opinion and having a bias or launching an attack.

Your customer reported you told her that you were unaware of the
SoftSpikes product as of last Friday, and that when asked, you said
you came up with the idea for the product 'yourself.' The posting of
your customer was the source of the information, not your website.
When I contacted SoftSpikes, I was provided a copy of the shipping
confirmation you received when you ordered their product last year. So
that is the source of that information. There is nothing baseless or
assumptive about me saying that you had prior knowledge of the
product. Your own customer reported that information to LockItUp and
subsequently, I saw your shipping confirmation which clearly lists the
address of your business and the date of your purchase.

As far as denying there is a similarity between your product and the
other, that strains credibility. After the posting with your website,
every person who went to your site reported on the similarity. If you
are saying that you can't see it, you are alone in that assessment.
Since in your response you acknowledge that you are aware there are
similar products on the market and the photographs of your product
reveal no difference in composition, you should see how I would
reasonably seek out an explanation. I asked you what it is about your
product that is unique for locked hair--as you describe on your site.
If you had responded to that question, I would have printed exactly
what you said. That would have been the only source of a description
available to me. As I said, I think your product is priced too high
and I'm not going to buy it. That is a statement, not an attack. I
also asked if anyone could provide me a first-hand comparison of the
two materials. It was not directed at your product maliciously. I buy
all kinds of hair and beauty products. Many have similar
functions...but in every case I have patronized these businesses and
bought these products because I felt good about the exchange and I
cannot say that here.

Which leaves your patent...It only took me thirty seconds to find out
that patents are based upon the claim of an originally designed
product or process or a non-obvious improvement to a product or
process. I was honestly curious what the basis of your patent could
be. Acquiring patents are very expensive, so I hope you are getting
excellent counsel about the viability of your application. Especially
since in order to offer your product on the market, you have decided
to price it significantly higher than competing and almost identical,
pre-existing products.

My negative reaction has been to the situation of a black-owned
business coming into the market place with such a precarious basis for
existence. Your marketing is misleading and your price is not
competitive. As someone who does support minority-owned businesses and
entrepreneurs frequently, I was very frustrated and disappointed with
your strategy. I would be falling short as a potential customer not to
give you my reaction. That gives you the opportunity to respond to the
market you have targeted. If I went to a restaurant and disliked the
experience or was served poorly, I would let management know. If I was
looking for a product, I would comparison shop and choose the best
value. You may not like what I have to say, but it is honest and
unbiased...and I SINCERELY hope that before you go further with plans
to expand your business, you think about your pricing and marketing.
You could do a lot better. In order for minority-owned businesses to
succeed they have to be MUCH better than their competition, better
with service, better with product, better with price. All that on top
of having a sound business plan and knowledge base.

I was also reacting to the fact that your endeavor is undercutting
another. I don't believe you didn't know about SoftSpikes and I
haven't seen anything to change that reaction. Your representation is
that you are going to all this effort because you have inadvertently
developed the same product someone else's family-owned business has
been selling for eleven years...I guess that's your story and you're
sticking to it. But since you are so isolated, I hope that finding out
all this has been helpful. As a small business owner yourself, I hope
no one ever does to you what you appear to be positioning yourself to
do to someone else. After you have invested time, resources and
capital into developing and manufacturing a product; establishing a
market presence and building a clientele, I hope no one comes along
and tries to set up shop in front of your endeavor and reap the
spoils...That's the view from over here. But I hope, at least, when
CuteCurlers or whatever they might be called is asked, they give you
credit for whatever you contributed to their enterprise.

While you 'fear' you won't be fairly presented on my blog, I assure
you I will deliver exactly what you presented to me. You have record
of our exchanges and access to any of the postings that were made on
LockItUp. If you decide in the future you would like to comment, you
are certainly welcome to do so.

Regards,
Renea

My second unanswered email to Carol Pearson of LocLoops

2007-11-14T23:11:00.000-05:00

Last week, after participating in a discussion about a product called LocLoops that generated provocative questions about how black-owned businesses interact with their customers, I decided I would post a commentary about the subject on my blog. I thought it would be valuable and fair to give you, as owner of this business, the opportunity to comment about your product and company, the LockItUp discussion, and my own commentary. Especially since, according to your website, Ms. Pearson is marketing the LocLoops product directly to Sisterlock wearers. To date Ms. Pearson, you have not responded to me, so today I am writing you a second email message which I am reposting here:

Dear Ms. Pearson and Curls and Coils, LLC,
I wrote you a few days ago to let you know I will be posting about your product on my blog Friday. By now, I am sure you are aware that last Wednesday, one of your customers posted information about your product and website on the Yahoo discussion group LockItUp. After following up to see the site and product, I was struck 1) by the similarity in design and function of your product to another that is very widely known in the LockItUp group and amongst the blog community called Soft Spikes, and 2) by the disproportionately high unit price of your product in comparison.

By way of the list discussion, it was conveyed that you have claimed no prior knowledge of the SoftSpikes product and that your product was made of a materially specially designed for 'locked' hair. According to the account given to the group, you have reported that you designed this product sui generis and that you have been testing it on your customers for a year. This intrigued me, to say the least. I contacted the owner of the SoftSpikes company to get her reaction to your product and website and from there the situation has become even more intriguing.

I have seen the proof of shipping information that shows you purchased, and obviously was aware of the SoftSpikes product since at least last year. That company has been selling their product for 11 years. Since your site claims that you have a patent pending for your product, I asked you what type of patent you were seeking and why you were telling your customers that you had never heard of SoftSpikes. Surely, since you were indeed familiar with the SoftSpikes product, you realize that neither the design nor (from the pictures and description you posted on your site) the material of your product are original or significantly improved.

While I usually purchase all of the products I review on my blog, I am not willing to purchase yours because of the price. However, I was interested to find out from you the nature of the special design and composition of your product and what about it that is unique for locked hair. I also inquired about the price difference.

I would really like to give you the opportunity to comment on your product and the chronology of your research and development. So I am writing you again in hopes that you will respond. I would be willing to quote you directly if you respond to my questions as posed. Please respond by tomorrow evening if you want your comments to be included in my posting. As you may be aware the Yahoo discussion group and blogging community is very interested in information about new products useful for Sisterlocks grooming and styling. I also have Sisterlocks and try to find out as much as I can about the products I use and businesses I patronize. I hope you will take the opportunity to share your comments with us all.

Wrap-A-Loc Results...II

2007-11-04T15:54:00.000-05:00

Ok...You all wanted a review and a comparison. Friday I had somewhere to go and I didn't think the whole "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane" look was what I wanted to go with...So I separated the coils. It is now Sunday and they are still quite nice. I have been wearing a sleep cap at night.

As I said before, I really like the Wrap-A-Loc results. It did take longer than soft spikes. Which makes sense because they are much, much, much smaller. On the website, there are people wearing the tool itself as a style. I would only do this over the weekend, not to work or anything. But that's just me...I slept with them in and they weren't terribly uncomfortable. If you don't like sleeping with anything bothering your head, it might be annoying.

The most obvious difference between soft spike rollers and the wrap-a-loc tool is the size of the curl. As the pictures show...you can get a very good set on either product. It been awhile since I used the soft spikes but if I remember correctly the curls gently fell over the course of a few days. If you separated the coils or as they relaxed, you be left with a very wavy, loose curl.

As the pictures show, the wrap-locs left me with coils about the diameter of a pencil. When I separated them, I was left with distinct spirals. They were so tight I wanted to sing Donna Summer songs for a minute. I tied them back for awhile. Yesterday-Saturday- they were very pretty. That's when I took the pictures above. I remembered my five-head and pulled a few forward.

The option of wearing wrap-a-locs as a style may be appealing to some. You can't go anywhere with a head full of soft spikes.

I was able to teach myself how to properly use the wrap-a-loc tool. Even though I had the wrong size--see earlier post--they were very forgiving and I got an excellent set. The size description on the site helps you choose the right size. Don't be like me and second guess it. The only thing that confused me was the wording...that it would take up half the length of my hair. I interpreted that to mean that the tool should be half the length of my hair. If I would have gone solely with the length suggestion, I would have been less confused.

As I said before, I think using a hair dryer had a LOT to do with my good outcome. I never used a dryer with the soft spikes...I didn't have one...and it took forever to dry. I couldn't guess how long it would have taken my hair to airdry on the wrap-a-locs.

Not for nothing, I have been setting my hair on some kind of rollers since I was 12. And because I'm type A, it always looked like someone else had done it for me. I am an excellent hair setter! I say that not just to brag, but as a disclaimer. Both soft spikes and wrap-a-locs can be time-consuming, but the wrap-a-locs didn't take an unreasonable amount of time to use. It would have gone much quicker if I wasn't forcing my hair onto 'too small' rollers. If I could go back I would have gotten one set of medium--for the front-- and three or four long. The instructions for traditional locks are to use one tool per lock, for Sisterlocks I used about four each but I wasn't obsessive about it...some may have had more.

For hold, with both products, I would use a maximum hold mousse or diluted Lottabody in a spray bottle.

Soft-Spikes v. Wrap-A-Loc

2007-10-31T21:52:00.000-04:00

Just for contrast, I've dug up some pics of me with Soft Spikes sets for comparison. You can't say I don't go the extra mile for my Sisterlock family...
These are both dated. One I took in Virginia and the other was last winter...
It is definitely a matter of scale. And we'll see how long the curls go...

Wrap-A-Loc Results...

2007-10-31T21:32:00.000-04:00

OK...So Monday morning I took down the Wrap-A-Loc set. Here's the results. They are very tight. After work Monday, I put them in a cap while I was at exercise class. They were just as tightly coiled on Tuesday.

I think the set was successful because I sat under the dryer. I used a little diluted Lottabody. But I was not very consistent about applying it. I probably didn't put any on the back.
If it weren't for the heat of the dryer, my hair wouldn't have dried uniformly...and certainly not in time for me to go to sleep at a decent hour. So once again, I love my new hair dryer.
We can track how long the curls last together, ok?

Today--because I was too lame to actually wear a costume--I stuffed my hair in a knit hat and wore lots of make-up....Spooky. I told anyone who asked I was a smooth criminal.

Really I just wanted an excuse to try blacking my eyes out. I have all these MAC paints that I never use and eyeshadow colors that I never really experiment with...So today I did. I used Fluidline liner in black, Carbon and Tuxedo shadow with a thin dusting of Vellum over the top. It was fun. If I was still in high school, I might totally go Goth for awhile...But I'm not in high school. So really, it's just about time for me to wash my face.

And so I find myself...

2007-10-28T22:55:00.000-04:00

Sitting under the dryer with Miracle Whip on my face...yeah, yeah, I'll get to that...

I lollygagged most of the day. Shredding paper, violating my lease by drilling a hole in my ceiling, watching the football game in London...I didn't start coloring my hair until after 5pm. I used the old stand-by...Hi-Res Copper Shock. But it's not shocking. It's pretty tame. At least I don't have two-tone hair anymore. I've been using this color so long, I just feel like it looks normal again.

So I started in with the Wrap-A-Locs pretty late. Like around 7pm and I didn't finish until 10:30. The woman who created Wrap-A-Locs-- Sister Nandi--has the patience of Job. After I ordered 5 large sets and received them, I decided I had the wrong size and sent them back un-opened. She and I talked on the phone a few times. She assured me the large size were right for me. But I'm a mule-headed stress-ball right now, so I asked for two sets of medium size. So I finally open them, start setting my hair and realize...yup, I needed all larges. Sigh. I made due with what I have though. I've been under the dryer for thirty minutes. If I had all large size, I actually do think I would leave these in over a weekend, but I won't be wearing them to work

I love this thing! It's a Hot Tools Model 1059 Salon Style Dryer. It says "Purple People Heater" which is pretty cute. It has an ionic setting, two heat settings and three speeds. I know it's listed on Amazon and there's a seller on E-bay. I paid $99.99 at my neighborhood beauty supply which is actually a very good price. They also had a Conair brand one that was $25 more. I was hoping I could adjust it and recline in bed or at least sit in my cushy chair, but I had to use a kitchen chair. An irrelevant inconvenience. I may never go to a salon again. I can now give myself hot conditioning treatments and drastically reduce my drying time--great motivation to actually set my hair and stop with the constant ponytails. I can't hear the television-darn it!- but I can surf the net, read a book or a magazine...Fab. If I would have gotten it together and done this earlier, I could have watched the football or baseball game...Don't need sound for that. Oh well, incentive to start earlier next time.

So you want to know why I have Miracle Whip on my face. I know you do. Well, I had gotten my skin under control last month. But with all the stress, I've backslid with my regimen. I had been having great luck with aspirin facials. Don't laugh...aspirin is salycylic acid on the cheap. I just dissolve about three in my palm, mix with a little moisturizer and voila! a great blow to oil and would-be pimples. I was on the net and saw quite a few posts about the exfoliating property of Miracle Whip and thought I'd try it. Apparently the tangy kick in the Miracle Whip is what distinguishes this from just sitting around with mayonnaise on my face--that would be weird...lol. The vinegar in the Miracle Whip...along with the egg..helps to moisturize and unclog pores at the same time. I'll let you know what happens...Since I'm all clogged again, I figured it would be a great time to try it out...can't hurt. I've been using a facial from Lush called Cupcake that I really like...but I'm all about cheap. Can't beat a jar of Miracle Whip and some store brand aspirin.

Roots...The Next Generation

2007-10-27T22:20:00.000-04:00

I haven't posted in a loooonnng time. Sigh. Life has been a little too much to blog. Lately it's taken all my mental energy just to get from Monday to Friday, then on weekends I just decompress. But life has been busy...

So last Saturday, I went to the beauty supply store. Like most black women I know, I think beauty supply stores are magical places. Even though I don't need many products, I find myself leaving with armloads of things anyway. So last Saturday I had bandannas, crocheted caps and a snood. And then I looked up... Now that the weather is getting cooler, I can't just wash my hair in the shower and go on my way. And now that my hair is longer it takes forever to dry. If I don't wash my hair pretty early in the day, it won't be dry before bedtime. Wet hair and pillowcases don't mix...wet hair and damp rollers makes a funny smell that usually requires a vinegar soak to remove....so what's a girl to do. I have a blow dryer and a diffuser. But I am too lazy to stand around waving it at my head and it's useless if I want to set my hair with rollers. I got one of those soft bonnet style dryers but the blower part fried out. I tried attaching it to the blow dryer but it got way too hot and it was so noisy I couldn't take it. So I started fantasizing about the salon-style dryers I saw in the beauty supply store window. Sigh. I even priced them out on Ebay.

So I'm in the beauty supply store... I look up, see the hair dryers and remember that I want a new one. I left with my bandannas and a firm resolve. So it seemed kismet when I went to the beauty supply store right up the street from me...looked down...and saw two salon style dryers, both around the same prices I saw online. But I had no money so no dice. I've been thinking about it all week and today I went back and got one!

My plan was to retighten, wash and try my new Wrap-A-Locs (yes, I bought those too). But when I looked in the mirror, I realized I had another dilemma... You all know I dabble in the dark art of hair-coloring. But I've been good and haven't touched the stuff for months. The proof is that I have over an inch of uncolored growth. I don't like it. Luckily I'm prepared. I have two boxes of the color I usually apply and one of the brown shade of Feria I tried when I decided I wanted to go a shade darker. I'm wondering though if I should hold off on the color until closer to Thanksgiving so it'll be fresh for the holidays. Decisions, decisions....I didn't have an answer after I finished assembling my new dryer, so all I finished was the retightening. One thing I know, two-tone hair is not my thing. So I am either going to use one of the colors I have or make my whole head something closer to my natural color. Given that my natural color is a depressing shade of dark brown that does absolutely nothing for me, I predict this time tomorrow my hair will be copper again. If it's too much of a jolt, I'll cover it with the brown in a couple of weeks to tone it down...

Zahara, I know exactly how you feel...

2007-10-08T21:43:00.000-04:00

Zahara Jolie-Pitt expressing herself...

Things are looking up...

2007-09-21T05:03:00.000-04:00

Even though I can't sleep...I feel much better. This has been a crazy week. But it's over. I know thngs are better because I have been trying unsuccessfully to Simpsonize myself for over a week. I figured it's four in the morning, take a chance. It worked! I finally got through. So here I am in all my Simpson glory. I think I look pretty cute!

How to gain back the weight you lost....

2007-09-19T22:50:00.001-04:00

When I'm stressed out sometimes I rationalize having a treat. I don't really have a problem with emotional eating as they call it but I can see how things can spiral out of control.

Now that the semester has started, my favorite dining services cafe is open. Yesterday they had a surprisingly spicy paella with huge shrimp, mussels, and even a little squid. And the squid wasn't tough which is usually my complaint about squid not served as fried calamari...Anyway. Last night, I was still feeling funky. I decided what I really wanted was some mashed potatoes. So I got the bag of frozen-don't open unless emergency-mashed potatoes. Instead of buying quarts of milk and letting them spoil--because I am lactose intolerant and only use milk to cook-- I started buying those little milk boxes that don't need refrigeration. So I mixed two boxes of milk with the frozen potatoes. Because I still refuse to cook...but that too is another topic. It was definitely not the best mash I've ever had. I mean it's really lazy not to mash my own potatoes...it's super easy. But like milk, I stopped buying potatoes because I cook them so infrequently they end up growing eyes. I used excellent portion control with the mashed potatoes. I really just wanted a taste...but since there's milk involved, I can't keep it indefinitely.

No...my downfall has been the fact that there is a McDonald's in front of the bus stop. Right in my face when I come home. Last week, I was thinking how empty my refrigerator was and went into Mickey D's. I wasn't observant enough to see the sign that advertised buy one, get one free Quarter Pounders...and ended up buying the new Angus burger (with Swiss and mushrooms). I enjoyed it so much, two days later I went back for another. And today since I waited over 30 minutes for the bus-- I just don't want to ride the train, I decided I deserved another Angus burger. The third one was not as good as the first one. Yesterday, I tossed back a soda and today I had a Snapple. You know over time the calories would really accumulate.

This summer I ate lots of vegetables and ramen. Because it's cheap and because there is hardly any cooking involved. But the fast food is dangerous. There's nothing wrong with a splurge every now and again. But having a huge burger then coming home and sitting on my duff is a really easy way to gain weight. So I'm going to cut it out. Hopefully, my soda craving will also pass.

Today the dining hall was hosting a local Korean restaurant. I had mac and cheese--it always makes me sick after-- and some really spicy beef dish. Yum.

Great meals...But I haven't been eating rice or potatoes all summer. The desire for comfort food in the winter, along with fewer outdoor and physical activity is a perfect storm. But I'm curious to find out if I can keep these pounds off.

OK people. It's past my bedtime. Ambien awaits.

The best laid plans...

2007-09-19T22:13:00.000-04:00

I was planning to blog about stripper culture, but then life got very serious for a moment. Thank you for sending good thoughts and messages.

Like I said, I can't be specific on my blog about what happened...But what it boils down to is that I can't tolerate a lot of volatility in my life right now. When I look back though, I wonder why I ever tolerated volatility. Right now, I have a very slim margin of error. As Jay-Z says...I cannot lose. So for maybe the first time in my life, my instinct for self-preservation is extremely sensitive. There is no one and no thing that I am going to let have control over my peace of mind. I handle that in different ways. Sometimes I shut things out, sometimes I push through, and sometimes I run like hell. What I don't do is nothing.

So that's all I can say. Things are cool. It's been a tough seven days, but I got through it. No one and no thing...

Send Positive Energy Please...

2007-09-16T16:25:00.003-04:00

I am worried about something that, unfortunately, I can't blog about here. But I would really appreciate it if you all would say a prayer, send me positive energy, whatever you call it. I just need to borrow some strength, some optimism, and some courage.
Matthew 6:27 and 6:34 are foremost in my mind now.
Just join me in hoping that, indeed, there is nothing to worry about at all.
r

The cost of Sisterlocks...

2007-09-12T21:03:00.000-04:00

Apparently there is an ongoing discussion about how "expensive" Sisterlocks are. I have been doing my own hair for the past five years and really don't understand how this has even become an issue.

In my opinion, there are Sisterlocks to be had at any price range...some consultants are expensive, some are not. In different parts of the country, consultants are hard to find and in others there are more to choose from...But in every scenario, I don't think Sisterlocks are expensive.

Even if you go with a very high-end price for installation---I've heard $700 tossed around--and factor in the cost of retightenings for six months to a year every six weeks--let's say at $150...even then the cost of Sisterlocks works itself out--in the long run.

If you are willing to pay from $150-200 every six weeks to get braids--that's what I was doing before I got Sisterlocks-- in a year's time you would have gotten your hair redone 8.67 times...let's say 8 times. That's $1,200- $1600 for the braids plus the cost of whatever kind of extensions you use-- from Kanekalon at about $20 more per session to human hair which might add say another $100 per session...

Over that same year if you got Sisterlocks installed January 1st for $700, then got 8 retightenings over the course of a year, that's $1900 for the year. A difference of as much as $500....

But what happens after a year?

If you continue to get braids done at the same interval by year 2, you have spent $2,400 -$3,200 on braiding. But if you had Sisterlocks, you would probably be able to take the re-tightening class...which is now $250. After that, you could do your own maintenance. So year by year 2 with Sisterlocks, your expense is $2,150...you've saved at least $350...

Beyond year two, if you had braids, you would continue to spend the same amount each year while your Sisterlocks would cost you nothing...I occasionally go to a salon for conditioning treatments, but I could do them myself...

And I'm not even going to touch the cost of chemical services over the same time...

The point is...however you choose to wear your hair, if you need a stylist, there will be an expense. Even 'traditional' locticians charge. If cost is an issue for you, and I think it is for just about everyone, do the math. You will probably have Sisterlocks for several years. Consider not just the initial cost, but the real cost of how you choose to style your hair. You may find that Sisterlocks are not as 'expensive' as you think.

I did these calculations using the highest figures I've heard. If you are willing to use a trainee consultant or live where there are more consultants available, you may spend less than my calculations.

Stripper Culture...

2007-09-12T07:46:00.000-04:00

Consider this a tease...
Later today...or maybe this weekend...I want to get some things off my chest about the state of popular culture right now.

Frighteningly correct

2007-09-11T00:18:00.001-04:00

R	Radical
E	Earthy
N	Naive
E	Explosive
A	Astounding

Name Acronym Generator
From Go-Quiz.com

Fashion Alert

2007-09-10T23:50:00.001-04:00

I bought a pair of these...now I'm afraid to wear them!

It's Britney, Bitches...

2007-09-10T13:52:00.000-04:00

Well, I did post about Lauryn Hill...

Britney Spears. Sigh. Last night on the VMA's. Sigh.

I have a real soft spot for this young woman. Maybe it's because she's from Kentwood, LA-- a place that I will forever associate with goodness because of the natural springs there. Mostly though, it's because she seems so utterly lost, defeated and vulnerable and I can't help but feel sympathetic to her. Despite the fact that she is at least the figurehead of a multicorporate brand of music and merchandise...despite the fact that she has toured the world as a performer, Britney Spears is an obviously unsophisticated, untutored young woman who seemingly has never had the opportunity to find an identity outside the entertainment machine that she has been so lucrative to for the last ten years. She has spent what would have been any other young woman's formative years being packaged and distributed. While other young women her age were going to high school and college, Britney Spears was on the road making money, for herself and everybody around her with no vacations, no room for error, and no one who wasn't also on the payroll. In the same way that I see Lauryn Hill's so-called unravelling as a rebellion, so too do I see the undoing of Britney Spears.

Truth be told, she's been coming apart for awhile. Not that it was the cause, but from about the time her relationship with Justin Timberlake ended, she has been on an increasingly determined downward spiral. Not because of the loss of love, but I think because she suffered such a blow to her public image in the wake of the break-up.

Just before it happened, I remember seeing Britney and her mother on the Oprah Winfrey show. Almost exactly like what was engineered around Brandy's pregnancy...but that's another post. Anyhow, Britney and her mother were there promoting her upcoming film Crossroads and fielding questions about her relationship with Timberlake. The press wanted to know whether she was still a virgin--no one's business, in my opinion, and it was alleged that she and Timberlake were secretly living together. Eventually they broke up and her clean, albeit 'not so innocent' corporate image was irreparably shattered. His song "Cry Me A River" kind of solidified this recasting of her public image as false and made her into a villain. She became increasingly more provocative about exploiting her sexuality and misguidedly trying to embrace a bad-girl image.

Seemingly flung out of the protection of her parents, she began making the party circuit. At first her public drunkenness was dismissed as youthful exuberance. But then she 'got married' in Vegas to a childhood friend. She was obviously pressured to annul the marriage within hours which made the coverage even more vicious. From that point on, she seems to have completely turned against her 'handlers.' By the next year, she was married to the second, expectant father-dancer in her entourage (the first was that guy from Stomp the Yard) to even more ridicule and negativity. Predictably enough, the relationship ended in shambles. Now made to look like a laughingstock, Britney was the mother of two and had been off the music charts for quite some time. Hmm, sounds a lot like Lauryn Hill, doesn't it? Unfortunately, she seems to have made all the worse mistakes possible after her divorce-- a traumatic time for many much less a young woman under constant public scrutiny. She fell into the train-wreck of Paris Hilton-Nicole Ritchie-Lindsay Lohan. Nicole Ritchie never was, but Paris, Lindsay and Britney were all photographed panty-less. It seemed to me like some sort of dare between them. And instead of 'just' being drunk, it appeared that Lindsay and Britney were under more serious influences. Britney's divorce remained contentious as she and her former husband fought over money and their children...

And how do we know all this...because other than Princess Diana, I cannot think of anyone who is more viciously stalked by the paparazzi than Britney Spears. Maybe Anna Nicole Smith...but that was for a concentrated period of time. Britney has been stalked like game for the past ten years.

Not that she hasn't aggravated things...going barefoot into public restrooms, making a reality show out of her illicit relationship with a man whose girlfriend was pregnant...again and of course, flashing what should have been covered for all to see on more than one occasion. She shaved her head...I'm convinced to avoid the results of a drug test. She attacked a car with an umbrella. She's ruined dresses at magazine shoots, she's flubbed television appearances...She was even sent to rehab. She's apparently feuding with her mother. She almost dropped one of her babies, she took one out without a car seat. It just never stops. On top of all that, there doesn't seem to be a day of the week that she does not go out to a nightclub. It's wearing me out and I'm not even living her life. I can understand why she looks so worn down.

So last night. I had heard a snippet of the song online. And like that Betty Wright song when I found out she'd be performing it on MTV, my first reaction was "I know you're not going sing that song..." It opens with her whispering "...it's Britney, bitches"...which since Dave Chappelle's Rick James skits seems to be the thing to say. The song is not awful. She sounds bored, the lyrics are trashy.

I actually thought she'd back out...but by 9:45, no cancellation. She was going through with the performance. She came out in a rhinestone studded bra and panty set with fishnets. Her hair was in a more-presentable though still, not great weave. She looked terrified...and seemed high. Her lip-synching was clumsy. There were many wide shots as she half-walked through some sections of the dance. There were no illusions with magician Criss Angel as rumored. While not especially toned, she was not fat as some press coverage has been calling her. Were it not for the fact that she is a seasoned performer, it wasn't that bad. But for Britney Spears, it was not that good at all. The performers in the audience seemed at a loss for how to react. They sat frozen, 50 Cent looked completely perplexed, Chris Brown sweetly sympathetic. Then it was over. Comedian Sarah Silverman came out, and as she had done to Paris Hilton, came out and told a series of cruel, vulgar jokes about Britney. The audience seemed uncomfortable and uncertain how to react. Only when Silverman told a joke about confusing Cee-lo and Kanye West did the tension break. The press coverage has been harsh and heavy-handed. In my opinion, Rihanna can't sing a lick either. The difference? Rihanna came out to a supportive audience...she's the new It girl. Britney was competing against her old image, the disappointment of the public, the weight of all that schadenfreude...Sigh.

My conclusion? Britney Spears looked like she was going through the motions, doing the only thing she has ever known how to do...go out onstage and perform. But my message to her is that she doesn't have to do it if she doesn't want to anymore. And that's how she seemed...like she was miserably doing the only thing she knew how to do even though she no longer had a desire to do it. I hope she realizes that she is free to walk away from it all...forever or even for awhile. I hope she decides to find and take better care of herself. To discover her own mind away from the image and expectations of the entertainment industry. I hope she separates herself from the entourages and hangers-on. I hope she realizes that getting high really doesn't make it better. I hope she makes peace with her family. I hope she finds peace of mind. But it seems unlikely that will happen anytime soon...the album will be in stores November 13th...

Strangely enough...

2007-09-08T00:44:00.000-04:00

...for the past two days, my hair has smelled like food. Yesterday it smelled like Lowry's seasoning salt...today I think it smells like chicken-flavored ramen noodles. I know...it sounds crazy. But it woke me up. I did go to Amy Ruth's last night. I had catfish and cherry kool-aid. Yes, indeed! For some reason those two items aren't on the online menu..they were right in front of me last night! The menu says "Kool-Aid of the Day" but for all the years I have gone there, every time I've been-- it's been cherry. Which is fine by me...I like cherry kool-aid...or as we used to call it...red. But that was a treat, I can't go off eating fried catfish, fried okra, buttered corn and cornbread... wash all down with a big glass of kool-aid and expect to keep off the 11lbs. I lost. But a treat is a treat, so I really enjoyed it. As soon as I wake up, I'm going to wash my hair really good and rinse it until it doesn't smell like soul food anymore...not because I don't like it--I'm sure other people like it too-- no, I going to get this smell out so I can get some sleep already.
As it is I can't stop thinking about going back for some smothered chicken and waffles...but for giggles, I think I'll go here to get them. Wow...who is the genius that put smothered chicken and waffles together? That is like heaven on a plate. You see...this is why it's not good to have hair that smells like food, it pervades your thoughts and keeps you awake all hours of the night...
whoo...I crack myself up...

We are lymon people...

2007-09-05T14:54:00.000-04:00

I cracked my friend up one day with my observation that African Americans must be particularly fond of the mythical lymon fruit. Then today I saw this, I feel vindicated. I just think there are an inordinate number of lemon-limey, clear, fizzy drinks marketed to black people. There is 7-up (of course), Sprite, Sierra Mist, and Mountain Dew...I almost forgot about Slice... and according to wikipedia, there are several others. When I was little I remember people used to put gumballs in their bottles of 7-up. I thought that was plenty gross...but I don't like gum, so what do I know. Of course, it's not only black people who love the lymon, but I don't know what they like. Why, for example, are we not enjoying Fresca--an oddly grapefruit-flavored concoction?
You know, it might be residual loyalty to the 7-up man campaign of the 70s...you remember the Un-Cola Man....ahahaha! That Geoffrey Holder!...he does the same little laugh in Boomerang...cracks me up...
I just needed a little silliness...

Take that!

2007-09-05T12:32:00.001-04:00

I am so proud of myself! I just signed up for automatic banking--I know, welcome to the 21st century--and discovered that some company was making regular 'membership fee' withdrawals from my checking account. What?! So I called them up and got my money back.
This company was pretty slick. They signed me up for their 'services' when I bought a movie ticket online. Pretty sneaky...They gave me a 'free' 30-day membership then started kicking in with the charges. No matter that I never wanted their services in the first place. They had been siphoning off $20 a month. Just small enough that I hadn't caught it on my paper statement. But their number was up today, because when I logged into my account statement they were at the top of a queue of 'pending transactions.' Well, I ain't having that.
Watch out for these hidden agreements...

Marjorie Newlin...

2007-09-04T20:40:00.001-04:00

I'm probably running late because I hadn't heard of this woman before today. Marjorie Newlin is an 86-year-old bodybuilder. That's right...I typed 86.
Now I as I type, I am reclined waiting for Larry King to come on (lazy, lazy, lazy)...I haven't lifted weights since 2002. I don't know why I stopped. I really enjoyed it. I'm very competitive with myself and I enjoyed pushing myself. Plus you get to see the tangible results of your efforts. Some women are afraid lifting weights will make them look masculine. I don't get that. You would have to train like a professional athlete to get those kinds of results. Plus the benefits of weightlifting--not just improvement of physique, but also maintenance of bone density, acceleration of metabolism, etc.--far outweigh any concerns one might have.
But back to Marjorie Newlin. She started training at age 72 and has won a slew of awards--often competing against women forty years her junior. Apparently, my Tivo was broken when she appeared on the Oprah show and the mail carrier swiped the copy of Essence she was featured in...cause I missed both....
I figured Marjorie was a good example and good inspiration...Age well. I need to move that coffee table and get those yoga and pilates dvds out. Get moving ladies!

The first day of school...

2007-09-03T19:39:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow is the first day of the fall semester at UrbanIvy. I have to say I don't miss it. But it has been exciting to see the energy build up. I suspect that since I left work last Friday night a whole lot of activity has taken place. There were a couple of first-year events last week. But they are all still moving around in a pack. All the other students will have descended by tomorrow.
I have no idea what to expect. I started at the end of the Spring semester, so I really haven't the slightest clue of the amount of traffic in the office or the kinds of things that will come my way on a daily basis. I'm kind of rolling with the punches.
I haven't made much of it, but over the summer I lost about eleven pounds. I hardly ever drive. I eat breakfast and lunch rather than dinner. I've diminished my portions. And because of the heat, my diet choices tend toward the healthy by default. I'm not eating rice, bread, pasta, or a lot of sugar. I don't recommend the two meals a day thing. It's just been too hot to turn on the stove when I get home after work. I am a big fan of frozen vegetables. I put a portion in the microwave and voila...dinner. Since I drove out to Long Island for a party, I figured I'd make a proper grocery run. There's a Stop & Shop in the Bronx. Sigh. One of the few things I enjoyed when I lived in Providence was making groceries at Stop & Shop. Anyway, I got some seafood for the freezer. I put away portions of salmon and tuna. Tonight I'm going to grill some scallops.
I thought I wanted to lose 20 lbs. But I'll be satisfied right here.
Unfortunately, all my clothes are now too big. I know...cry me a river. Me and my fake problems... Yesterday I went to Loehmann's--there's one right next to Stop & Shop--but it was just too overwhelming. I think I'm going to find an Express and get some pants. I'd like to go to Century 21...maybe this weekend.
After so many years of school, this feels like the beginning of the year. So bring it on...

I did it...

2007-08-31T20:06:00.001-04:00

I cut the sorriest fringe of a bang....pictures coming. What I really want is the kind of action Aisha Tyler has going, but I haven't worked up enough nerve to cut that far back.
I haven't met any stylists familiar with cutting Sisterlocks...perhaps it's time I found one...

Second Anniversary

2007-08-29T22:28:00.001-04:00

Well, I got through it...I completely immersed myself in work and even stayed late to try and make things go faster. I toyed with the idea of staying home, but when I woke up this morning I really wanted to get to work and stay busy. I have been determined to learn how to update our website-- I took a Dreamweaver workshop but never followed up. So today, I spent most of the day inputting new information for our website, reorganizing pages, and generally boosting my confidence. I know that I can learn these things, but on an irrational level I sometimes freeze a little contemplating projects that I'm not comfortable with or have lots of experience.

I was just not up to seeing Bush have his photo opps around New Orleans and Bay St. Louis. Ironically enough, my family is from both New Orleans and Bay St. Louis. I haven't been back to Bay St. Louis yet.

Tomorrow I have a big campus event. I hope it goes smoothly. I have no idea what to expect. Once that's over, I'll be able to exhale a little. But the campus is buzzing...students are coming back to campus and soon the pace will be brisker and there will be more calls and fires to put out.

Look who's got a new do...

2007-08-26T17:22:00.000-04:00

Helga commented about the dust-up when Brad Pitt--trying to give Carol's Daughter a thumbs-up-- rubbed some people the wrong way because he said he didn't know what to do with his daughter Zaharah's hair. I thought people took it the wrong way. Just yesterday I was talking with a black woman who said she was glad she had a son because she 'couldn't deal' with doing hair.

Anyway...guess the Hair Milk is working...Z's got a cute new do...Check it out!

**I don't know why the photo didn't make it the first time. The post doesn't make any sense without it!**

The Sublime and The Ridiculous--A Sisterlock Story

2007-08-24T19:29:00.000-04:00

So I was whining about my hair earlier this week. Aggravated with myself because I can't bring myself to hack in and cut myself some bangs. Despite the fact that it would look better, despite the fact that it's good to shake it up every so often, despite the fact that I really don't want to fall into any kind of rut about how I look. And Sunsail asked for some pictures...So even though I go off on tangents, I figured I'd circle back around and come back to my hair for a minute.

I know there are some of you checking out blogs to get an idea of how Sisterlocks will turn out over time. So let me clarify, I love my hair. I am completely tongue-in-cheek about complaining it's 'too long.' It really isn't much of a problem at all. I want to take full advantage of the possibilities for styling my hair though.

To bring you up to date, I've had Sisterlocks since Spring 2002 and I've been maintaining them myself since Winter 2002. Except for one visit to a SL consultant last year when I was in Virginia, I have done every single retightening since I took the class. I have colored my hair...several times. Ahem. I do not recommend it, but if you want to do it...wait until your SLs are completely settled in, be prepared for some breakage, and do not attempt anything crazy...like going more than one or two shades darker or lighter than your natural color. Pick a color and stick with it. Black over blonde or red makes green, remember that. But I'm talking about styles now...

The consequence of my hair having reached this length is, on the one hand, roller sets don't last because my curls fall by their own weight. But on the other, it means I can make all kinds of interesting styles by arranging my own hair. So...

In a couple of these pictures you can see me making like Cousin It...somewhat for comedy, I admit. My point is that there's lots of room to jazz things up and let SLs fit your personality.

In the others, you can see the fruits of my creativity. I'm convinced I made up this hairstyle, so when you copy it give me respect...lol. It should be possible with medium to long SLs. I did it without pins but a few hairpins would do the trick. And it was very easy. I did it in about five minutes while I was watching the Today show. It is basically a cluster of bantu knots. After gathering my hair in a ponytail with a loose band, I took small sections of hair, twisted them like a candy cane and then wrapped the twist into little buns right next to each other. And they lasted all day without pins...cause my hair is too long (smile). I am starting to think updos are easier for the office. Wearing it down and uncurled, especially in a ponytail seems a little casual to me. And I'm trying to polish up after all.

Sorry about the glare, the only way I could take the pics is in the bathroom mirror over my own shoulder...And I still cannot figure out how to get the pictures to go where I want them...

My Celebrity Look-Alikes...

2007-08-24T09:22:00.000-04:00

http://www.myheritage.com

Since Linford Christie didn't come up this time--lol--I posted my Celebrity Look-Alikes...

I don't look like ne'er one of these chicks!

...it's coming up soon.

2007-08-23T23:53:00.000-04:00

When I got home, HBO was replaying "When the Levees Broke..." and I watched it.

It's the craziest thing that triggers the sadness. Looking too long at a photo, realizing that something I'm trying to find isn't around anymore, wanting some stewed okra but realizing there is nowhere to buy decent fresh shrimp...

These past two days, my body has been letting me know the anniversary is coming. My throat closes, my hands are all shaky, and the stuttering is back. I hate that. Because I can't disguise it. And I have no intention of explaining it to everybody. I dread answering the phone at work. But I'm glad too. I'm doing pretty good considering. Like Frankie Beverly says...

"Joy and pain is like sunshine and rain...
Over and over you can be sure
there will be sorrow but you can endure
Where there's a flower, there's the sun and the rain...
Oh and it's wonderful...They're both one in the same"

I guess I figured I would get over or past everything, but I think you just learn to live with it. As far away as I have moved, there has not been a day...720 come next Wednesday...that I do not hear the word Katrina. I know most people don't hear it at all anymore. But I hear it everyday. And that's OK...

For the next week, my posts might be kind of scattered...but I'm alright. Just have to talk about it sometimes.

You da man!

2007-08-22T19:04:00.001-04:00

Brad Pitt has been using his celebrity to redirect attention to the unacceptable pace of recovery in New Orleans. He's also bought a house in the French Quarter and invested his money in an effort to develop a significant amount of green housing in the Ninth Ward.

Brad Pitt, I think I love you.

This country has been slammed with a whole bunch of 'stuff' (she says euphemistically) and I think, as a result, as a nation we've collectively checked out and vegged on celebrity twits who drive drunk, wear no panties, and bring the collective IQ down about ten points. I enjoy a little foolishness and gossip as much as the next person. But enough. If you are famous, use it for something worthwhile. You have everyone's attention? Well, say something!

While the media would rather focus on all things Brangelina, Brad Pitt has flipped the script and unwittingly tricked them into having to cover one of the most important, ONGOING social problems in our country right now. The slow, almost indifferent pace of recovery from Hurricane Katrina. It's sad commentary, but if not for Brad Pitt and a handful of other celebrities (I see you Don Cheadle and George Clooney!) the word DARFUR might never get mentioned in some media outlets or be on the radar screens of many of my disconnected, uninformed brethren.

Since they following him around anyway, Brad Pitt figures out a way to use the cameras for something important! He's forcing real news to resume their job descriptions and cover pertinent issues instead of pandering for the entertainment audience. And he's trapped entertainment programs into using clips of him saying things like 'social responsibility,' 'government accountability,' and 'social justice.' It's like someone turned on light and opened a window! Obviously, he is not just a pretty face. Brad got game!

So from this Ninth Ward Girl, thank you Brad Pitt. Next Mardi Gras we gon' Second Line just for you!

Five Words I never thought I'd say...

2007-08-21T13:41:00.000-04:00

My hair is too long!

This has been coming on for a while. At first it was little things...my curls drooped. Then it got more serious... my locks all tangled in the neck of my shirt. Then it was code red...ponytails everyday.

I don't want to do anything drastic. But I think, given my face shape, I'm going to have to do some cutting. I really need some bangs. Really. Nothing severe. But I need a shorter layer to soften this fivehead I've got going. Not even a real bang...a one-row fringe just below my nose so that I could swoop it over to the side.

Here's the problem. Every time I go to the mirror with the scissors, I chicken out. This has happened three times this month already. Whenever I go to snip, I hear all these voices saying "How can you cut all that hair off!" The 'trim' would take four or five inches off. But it's just one row. Why am I being such a chicken? It's six or seven locks. Cause I'm too chicken to go more than one row.

I'm going to end up on the Maury show...you know how they bring those sorry women out who haven't cut their hair since Ford was in office. Their hair trails sorrily behind them. They have on those elastic waist pants and knit tops. Sigh.

Help me. Tell me to stop being a wimp and cut the six locks. It's just hair. It will look better. And if it doesn't, it's just one row and I can hide the dirty deed.

Lauryn Hill

2007-08-20T21:59:00.000-04:00

I didn't forget about this post...I can't believe it's been two weeks since the concert!

So I saw Lauryn Hill perform free in Wingate Park. And I left with a swirl of thoughts. The next day I saw photos and reviews of the concert all over the internet and it made me want to write about how I felt about the concert, the way Lauryn Hill has been treated in the media, and Lauryn Hill herself.

I stayed for only one hour of her performance. She didn't take the stage until 9:44PM and I had to get back home to bed. I have a job. Plenty of people left. This is not uncommon at that time for the Wingate Park concerts or for me. I once left Wingate Park before Cameo hit the stage because I had to go to work the next day. And I LOVE Cameo. But it is true that a lot of people left in disgust and disappointment with Lauryn Hill. With only one opening performer--a young man with one popular song-- many people expected Lauryn to take the stage a LOT earlier than she did. But the crowd was just as prepared to hear she was a no-show. I know I was. Reading all these stories about Lauryn's unusual behavior and performances, I figured anything might happen. I had a book and a magazine. Instead of taking to the field inside the Wingate track, I sat on the bleachers and settled in for the evening. People were getting tired of waiting for her and there was a buzz in the crowd. Eventually, as I said, she took the stage at nearly 10PM.

Her band played an extra long intro, leaving many wondering what they were in for with this show. But she did come out. You could hear the whole crowd kind of pause. She was wearing a leather vest, a high-necked, long-sleeved blouse, and wide leg trousers. Her hair was an auburn-topped afro. When she started singing, it was a mixture of scratchiness and the deep, velvet tone that I remember. But her delivery was staccato and the arrangements furious, fast, and barely recognizable. She attacked the songs and rapped like she had somewhere else to go--hard, angry and so fast, so fast. Even when she sang familiar songs, the arrangements were so unfamiliar that the crowd couldn't recognize much less join in with her as they had been waiting to do.

Like I said, people leave the Wingate Park concerts early all the time. But many of the people who left were aggravated, confused and disappointed. I noticed that all the people who remained on the bleachers were women about my age. Their heads tilted, their mouths set in perplexed faces. You could almost see their thoughts...What is this?

I'm sure you've heard some of the stories about Lauryn Hill's personal life as she skyrocketed to critical acclaim and popular success with the Fugees and as a solo artist. I'm not going to rehash them. Suffice it to say, many people have been concerned about Lauryn Hill. Her most recent tour dates have allegedly been difficult. Depending on who you ask she has sung poorly, acted bizarrely, and dressed outlandishly...Everything about Lauryn has been picked apart and the consensus has not been positive. If you believe what you hear and read, Lauryn Hill has become an aloof, tempermental, disconnected woman. People brought all that to Wingate Park. In many ways, it distorted what they saw. Many people expected that Lauryn Hill would be terrible and that's the show they came to see and felt they got. Others came hoping that she would prove the rumors wrong. But the truth is somewhere in the middle.

I don't know Lauryn Hill. And I certainly don't know for sure that some of the stories about her are true. But I saw on that stage a woman who was disconnected. Her band seemed tense and obviously under her complete control. I couldn't help but wonder if a more experienced set of musicians might have resisted some of the arrangements she chose or encouraged her to edit or question aspects of her performance. As it was, the show came off, in my view, like her own private jam session. Unedited, uncritiqued, unchecked. If the stories are true, then Lauryn may not feel as if she can trust her peer musicians or be willing to share the creative process of her work with anyone. And that is too bad because every creative person needs not only an audience, but also a community. Art cannot be made in isolation. And you cannot perform in front of an audience, yet not invite them in to share. Whatever the reason for the unusual arrangements, the audience was so alienated and frustrated that they could not connect. And they desperately wanted to...The women in the bleachers came looking to see their Lauryn, the one whose voice narrated their love, their life. They wanted if she was hurt to help heal her with their love and support. But the Lauryn we saw, didn't want or couldn't accept the love. She was surrounded by protective armor and ready for battle. She didn't even realize that she was the one picking the fight. There were moments though when you could hear the power of her voice and glancingly touch her song.

A lot is made of Lauryn Hill's appearance. When her album The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill was released nine (!) years ago, she was on fire. Her skin glowed, her makeup was fierce. She was undeniably that chick. She was so hot that she rocked locks on the cover of Harper's Bazaar. She mixed couture and street effortlessly...in printed interviews, she has said that she grew weary, anxious and uncomfortable about being on display.

So I find myself ambivalent about what she is doing now. On the one hand, her choice of stage wardrobe was odd--it was August and she was wearing a leather vest and long trousers-- and her makeup in photos seemed garish, almost grotesque. But is this because she's unhinged or because she is trying to make a statement about how she was commodified before? I wondered if her attire was an attempt to be defiantly modest. Only her face and hands were not covered. And her make-up, was it deliberately over the top? Or was it simply exaggerated stage application taken out of context by close-up photographers. From our spots in the bleachers, we would have never guessed that her makeup was as it was. Even on the jumbo screens, she seemed at worse a bit heavy-handed. But those photographs. I questioned whether some of them weren't enhanced to make her look clownish and weird. And when I read the reviews of the concert I had attended, I couldn't help but put myself in her shoes. What it must be like to have so many people ready to throw dirt and negativity at you. To call you crazy. To say you are terrible. I would find it surreal, it might even infuriate me. Maybe make me defensive and indignant. So while I didn't agree with her aesthetic choices, I certainly could understand how, even why she might have made them. If I had my creative integrity challenged and undermined, I might be resistant to collaboration and assert my right as a diva...be the HBIC.

I think so many women my age stayed, perplexed with Lauryn because, even though they were pissed off with Lauryn, deep down they understood how she got to that point. I think they also realized how easy it is to slip over the edge. If Lauryn Hill, with all the fame and fortune in the world could be laid low by love and life, can't we all so easily fly apart?

I hear Anita Baker gave a similarly perplexing performance the next week. When I was growing up, I remember my parents talking about Chaka Khan's volatility. And it wasn't too long ago that Mary J. Blige was the one we all worried about and spoke about in hushed tones. Billie Holiday. Every black woman has an artist of her generation who seems to embody their hurt, their struggle. I guess now it's Lauryn's turn. As aggravated, as alienated as we may be with her now, I also know we are also waiting for her renewal and return. We'll be there, ready with open arms.

A little bit of home

2007-08-20T21:30:00.000-04:00

This made me homesick...

Chocolate Rain lil' john remix

2007-08-19T19:48:00.001-04:00

Just for laughs...