this morning:
Amari: Mommy, do I have elf ears?
Mommy: Of course not. Elf ears are pointy and big. Yours are just right.
silence
Mommy: Why are you asking about elf ears? Who said that to you?
silence
Amari: Terrell.
Mommy: Who is that?
Amari: You know the boy in the school picture standing behind me?
Mommy: NO. WHO IS THAT??
Amari: In the school picture, Ma... Behind me...
silence
Mommy: NO. Who is Terrell?
silence
Amari: He's someone that doesn't like himself so he talks about other people so they wont notice he's wack.
Mommy (smiling): You're really good. You know that?
Amari (Shrugging): Yea. I know.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
my list of nothingness...
Inspired by the bass…
1. I watch a lot of movies.
2. They rarely have much to do with my life. Maybe that’s why I watch them?
3. I hope this diet is working. Cause me going to the gym on a regular basis, isn’t.
4. why does myspace have me so hooked?
5. I can tell when you haven’t responded to my message. And that bothers me.
6. Is that too high school or am I having a complete breakdown?
7. I love my hair. I didn’t like it when I had the vigiro touch up and the bossy cut –
8. But now. I think it looks quite fetching (I can say it in a sentence FA, ca you?)
9. I remember the feeling of falling in love, it felt like summertime @ age 13.
10. Amari is getting too tall. I don’t know what I think about her hips either.
11. Amari has been commissioned to sing back up for a Buddy Wakefield concert. Courtesy of RAC being a lovebug of a chick-a-dee…
12. Is chick-a-dee even appropriate anymore?
13. Is chick-a-dee like Chick-fil-a
14. I miss Cali, they have Chick-fil-a
15. This is so much more fun than just writing a blog. Lists make it seem like you are thinking a lot!
16. It hides that fact that I’m so random, I guess…
17. I mean does it?
18. Sandbloom. That’s all.
19. Tamara letting me stay with her while I’m in Cali is so bomb. I mean. I have family. But if I’m working, then I really shouldn’t stay with family, cause they are crazy and will have me missing shows again – and then what will I have to say for myself.
20. Sorry Shihan. I remember missing that show, that was pretty wack of me. So wack that if someone misses a show, like I did to you, then I try to listen to them.
21. I don’t know if that’s working, though.
22. Bassey should be back in Brooklyn.
23. No seriously.
24. The movie junebug, some indie flick, is incredibly slow.
25. It reminds me that I am not ever going to be Julia Roberts or any of those cute white girls that gets courted in movies.
26. I mean, I don’t want to be white. I just want to be the lead role in the freek’n movie.
27. Halle was a getting busy with Billy Bob in the movie and she got with the lead role.
28. But they had to kill her son and call her all type of n-words.
29. I don’t think I want the lead role anymore.
30. Maybe just a supporting role, like Regina King in Jerry Maguire.
31. GOD! I love Jerry Maguire.
32. Just counted my books. I have over 600.
33. Well I didn’t really count. I just looked at the massive bookcase for a long time.
34. I may go to hell for lying to my mother, but seriously. She’s tripping.
35. Then what mother doesn’t trip? Right?
36. I just want my mother to have that grandmother scent about her.
37. Ya know. Cookies and collard grens. Warm house and hugs. Is that too much to ask for?
38. I’m going to go wash clothes with my favorite laundry woman, Ms. Della.
39. She reduces my homesickness. But I think I’ve run out of clothes to wash.
40. Maybe I can wash some extra towels or something…
41. I promised myself that I would only type a list of 50…
42. Even that at the moment seems too little.
43. I’m still searching for a place to move to. I’m going to send a mass email out to friends and listserves, then check craigslist again.
44. I love craigslist.
45. I’m thinking maybe Queens.
46. Besides, I found the Yugoslavian that sold me my love, the minvan, for only a G.
47. A house can’t be that hard.
48. But then I’ve been looking for over 3 years for a house and no luck.
49. Maybe since I’ve been watching the secret and thinking happy thoughts and shyt, it’ll work this time?
50. Might it not work cause I said “Shyt”?
51. Shyt!
52. I did it again.
53. And I’m willing to settle for a 2 bedroom as long as there ain’t no drug dealers on the actual corner.
54. I have to check with Christa and see if saying curse words reverses the positive reinforcement.
55. People can curse when they’re happy, right?
56. Look at sailors!
57. I’m currently reading this ChickLit that Bassey prescribed. It’s not as good as my girl Sophie Kinsella, and her Shopaholic series.
58. People are falling in love and hating each other from the first scene @ the stupid airport!
59. Don’t they know that goes against the SECRET!
60. So why are they allowed to “hate” and still get the happy ending?
61. Oh yea. It’s a fictional story. Don’t remind me.
62. Why are sailors known for cursing anyway?
63. Ok. I did mess up on my diet once. I had a donut for the first time in WEEKS yesterday.
64. And I seldom have coffee anymore.
65. Which is extremely hard, considering for my birthday, I received STARBUCKS GIFT CARDS.
66. In the movie Junebug, the pregnant chick is masturbating. This is disturbing.
67. Not that pregnant woman don’t deserve to get off. I’m just saying.
68. Oh god!
69. I love pregnant woman. They are more beautiful than the leading lady in all the movies: Pretty Woman, Jerry Maguire, Poetic Justice…
70. Seriously, Poetic Justice was great filmmaking!
71. I like the Shopgirl with Claire Danes and Steve Martin.
72. When she asked him “Why can’t you love me?”
73. Story of my freek’n life!
74. Oh god! I did it again, didn’t I?
75. I seriously need to check out the Secret again. The rules are totally confining to my personality of maladjusted normalcy.
76. Still watching Junebug. Just a note: Quiet SEX is AWESOME!
77. I’ve had my share, if you know what I’m saying…
78. Obviously, you know what I’m saying I just said it!
79. I hate when people say that. “Nahmean, Know what I’m saying”
80. I swear, people are going to unsubscribe to my blog because of this.
81. Dammit there goes that negative reinforcement again!
82. Holy crap, I’m way over my 50, aren’t I?
83. And cats that haven’t been spayed suck in the spring!
84. Is that cat spew, I smell?
85. I tried to read million little pieces, but it’s too depressing.
86. Just like that damn book FAT GIRL that Christa boasted about.
87. That was a bunch of crap.
88. Maybe if I wasn’t feeling fat when I read it – I would be enlightened.
89. Maybe.
90. I got new rugs I want to put out, but my stupid cats and that spewing ain’t gonna cut it!
91. I think I want a dog when we move. Like a bulldog.
92. Something ugly and short.
93. Ugly dogs are totally cute.
94. He says only when they’re puppies.
95. Like kids, I guess.
96. Except, kids aren’t ever puppies. Are they?
97. I have to find some incense. Mopping incessantly is killing my back.
98. Then that could be my ankle issue and all the limping I’ve been doing.
99. I really like words like “incessantly” or dilapidated.
100. But that’s an entirely different list to start, now isn’t it…
101. Wow. I guess. This is just proof that I need to write another list.
102. Maybe tomorrow?
1. I watch a lot of movies.
2. They rarely have much to do with my life. Maybe that’s why I watch them?
3. I hope this diet is working. Cause me going to the gym on a regular basis, isn’t.
4. why does myspace have me so hooked?
5. I can tell when you haven’t responded to my message. And that bothers me.
6. Is that too high school or am I having a complete breakdown?
7. I love my hair. I didn’t like it when I had the vigiro touch up and the bossy cut –
8. But now. I think it looks quite fetching (I can say it in a sentence FA, ca you?)
9. I remember the feeling of falling in love, it felt like summertime @ age 13.
10. Amari is getting too tall. I don’t know what I think about her hips either.
11. Amari has been commissioned to sing back up for a Buddy Wakefield concert. Courtesy of RAC being a lovebug of a chick-a-dee…
12. Is chick-a-dee even appropriate anymore?
13. Is chick-a-dee like Chick-fil-a
14. I miss Cali, they have Chick-fil-a
15. This is so much more fun than just writing a blog. Lists make it seem like you are thinking a lot!
16. It hides that fact that I’m so random, I guess…
17. I mean does it?
18. Sandbloom. That’s all.
19. Tamara letting me stay with her while I’m in Cali is so bomb. I mean. I have family. But if I’m working, then I really shouldn’t stay with family, cause they are crazy and will have me missing shows again – and then what will I have to say for myself.
20. Sorry Shihan. I remember missing that show, that was pretty wack of me. So wack that if someone misses a show, like I did to you, then I try to listen to them.
21. I don’t know if that’s working, though.
22. Bassey should be back in Brooklyn.
23. No seriously.
24. The movie junebug, some indie flick, is incredibly slow.
25. It reminds me that I am not ever going to be Julia Roberts or any of those cute white girls that gets courted in movies.
26. I mean, I don’t want to be white. I just want to be the lead role in the freek’n movie.
27. Halle was a getting busy with Billy Bob in the movie and she got with the lead role.
28. But they had to kill her son and call her all type of n-words.
29. I don’t think I want the lead role anymore.
30. Maybe just a supporting role, like Regina King in Jerry Maguire.
31. GOD! I love Jerry Maguire.
32. Just counted my books. I have over 600.
33. Well I didn’t really count. I just looked at the massive bookcase for a long time.
34. I may go to hell for lying to my mother, but seriously. She’s tripping.
35. Then what mother doesn’t trip? Right?
36. I just want my mother to have that grandmother scent about her.
37. Ya know. Cookies and collard grens. Warm house and hugs. Is that too much to ask for?
38. I’m going to go wash clothes with my favorite laundry woman, Ms. Della.
39. She reduces my homesickness. But I think I’ve run out of clothes to wash.
40. Maybe I can wash some extra towels or something…
41. I promised myself that I would only type a list of 50…
42. Even that at the moment seems too little.
43. I’m still searching for a place to move to. I’m going to send a mass email out to friends and listserves, then check craigslist again.
44. I love craigslist.
45. I’m thinking maybe Queens.
46. Besides, I found the Yugoslavian that sold me my love, the minvan, for only a G.
47. A house can’t be that hard.
48. But then I’ve been looking for over 3 years for a house and no luck.
49. Maybe since I’ve been watching the secret and thinking happy thoughts and shyt, it’ll work this time?
50. Might it not work cause I said “Shyt”?
51. Shyt!
52. I did it again.
53. And I’m willing to settle for a 2 bedroom as long as there ain’t no drug dealers on the actual corner.
54. I have to check with Christa and see if saying curse words reverses the positive reinforcement.
55. People can curse when they’re happy, right?
56. Look at sailors!
57. I’m currently reading this ChickLit that Bassey prescribed. It’s not as good as my girl Sophie Kinsella, and her Shopaholic series.
58. People are falling in love and hating each other from the first scene @ the stupid airport!
59. Don’t they know that goes against the SECRET!
60. So why are they allowed to “hate” and still get the happy ending?
61. Oh yea. It’s a fictional story. Don’t remind me.
62. Why are sailors known for cursing anyway?
63. Ok. I did mess up on my diet once. I had a donut for the first time in WEEKS yesterday.
64. And I seldom have coffee anymore.
65. Which is extremely hard, considering for my birthday, I received STARBUCKS GIFT CARDS.
66. In the movie Junebug, the pregnant chick is masturbating. This is disturbing.
67. Not that pregnant woman don’t deserve to get off. I’m just saying.
68. Oh god!
69. I love pregnant woman. They are more beautiful than the leading lady in all the movies: Pretty Woman, Jerry Maguire, Poetic Justice…
70. Seriously, Poetic Justice was great filmmaking!
71. I like the Shopgirl with Claire Danes and Steve Martin.
72. When she asked him “Why can’t you love me?”
73. Story of my freek’n life!
74. Oh god! I did it again, didn’t I?
75. I seriously need to check out the Secret again. The rules are totally confining to my personality of maladjusted normalcy.
76. Still watching Junebug. Just a note: Quiet SEX is AWESOME!
77. I’ve had my share, if you know what I’m saying…
78. Obviously, you know what I’m saying I just said it!
79. I hate when people say that. “Nahmean, Know what I’m saying”
80. I swear, people are going to unsubscribe to my blog because of this.
81. Dammit there goes that negative reinforcement again!
82. Holy crap, I’m way over my 50, aren’t I?
83. And cats that haven’t been spayed suck in the spring!
84. Is that cat spew, I smell?
85. I tried to read million little pieces, but it’s too depressing.
86. Just like that damn book FAT GIRL that Christa boasted about.
87. That was a bunch of crap.
88. Maybe if I wasn’t feeling fat when I read it – I would be enlightened.
89. Maybe.
90. I got new rugs I want to put out, but my stupid cats and that spewing ain’t gonna cut it!
91. I think I want a dog when we move. Like a bulldog.
92. Something ugly and short.
93. Ugly dogs are totally cute.
94. He says only when they’re puppies.
95. Like kids, I guess.
96. Except, kids aren’t ever puppies. Are they?
97. I have to find some incense. Mopping incessantly is killing my back.
98. Then that could be my ankle issue and all the limping I’ve been doing.
99. I really like words like “incessantly” or dilapidated.
100. But that’s an entirely different list to start, now isn’t it…
101. Wow. I guess. This is just proof that I need to write another list.
102. Maybe tomorrow?
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
about falling...
the trick is not in how un-awkward you can topple your body to the ground without looking like an ass. the problem is you already look kinda silly falling - arms out grabbing for support that isn't there - eyes bulging and that big "O" with your mouth, probably accompanied by a yelp of some sort... eveeryone does this when falling. (unless of course you went out drinking with me and watched my drunk ass fall down a flight of stairs sliently... true story)... the art, is picking yourself up as gracefully as possible. fixing your face to a purposeful "it happens to everyone" pose and being flyy as fuk when walking away with a saunter that says "yea, i tripped, so what? you too caught up in the act of my falling when i'm so fresh i'm already over it...and moving up the block".
Saturday, May 05, 2007
preferences: a quiz
smurf or pacman (the dance): smurf is the shyt. chicken noodle soup ain't got NUFFIN on the smurf!
breasts or thighs: breasts. breasts are always on top!
dry humping or finger exploration: do i look like an 8th grader to you?
MOP mosh pit or Drum n Bass boogie-a-thon: why can't there be both?
holding hands in public or kissing in public: holding hands. and kissing behind doorways, of course!
myspace top 8 or cellphone top 8: myspace, obviously!
boondocks or aquateenhunger force: ATF muthaF'ERS!... i know, i know: i should love the cartoon by blacks attempting to correct the state of our current blackness by calling out to everyone as N****A... however. we arent the only ones watching it. and most of those people didnt get the memo: "this is a satire. insert laugh here." they are just chuckling because black people cartoons calling the rest of the world the n word is like, freek'n awesome!
katt williams or mike epps: katt williams. minus the N word usage to the fullest degree, he is one funny muthasucka!
napoleon dynamite or...: WhATevER! there is no or when it comes to mr dynamite!
oprah or ellen: i mean really. oprah - i love u porgy. but ellen dances! and she's funny. i'll just keep buying that stupid oprah book that you are on the covere of, every month. i love u oprah. i swear i do - but if you ain't throwing hip hop under the bus, you are boring as hell!
man's hands or feet: both. i like nice feet. and i love clean (not manicured) hands.
first date kiss or fourth date sex: definitely 1st date kiss. sex has no time limit. but its real doubtful. especially in the land of new york city!
will smith & jada pinkett smith or courtney vance & angela bassett: why not both? i like flyy black love. it makes me believe in shyt.
religion or spirtuality: spirtituality. my god and me get a long great. its your judgements that be fuk'n up the translation!
mind f*ck or titty f*ck: well i'm a writer. so i guess i'm full of mind f*ckin' now aren't i?
tag: all of u'z! dammit.
breasts or thighs: breasts. breasts are always on top!
dry humping or finger exploration: do i look like an 8th grader to you?
MOP mosh pit or Drum n Bass boogie-a-thon: why can't there be both?
holding hands in public or kissing in public: holding hands. and kissing behind doorways, of course!
myspace top 8 or cellphone top 8: myspace, obviously!
boondocks or aquateenhunger force: ATF muthaF'ERS!... i know, i know: i should love the cartoon by blacks attempting to correct the state of our current blackness by calling out to everyone as N****A... however. we arent the only ones watching it. and most of those people didnt get the memo: "this is a satire. insert laugh here." they are just chuckling because black people cartoons calling the rest of the world the n word is like, freek'n awesome!
katt williams or mike epps: katt williams. minus the N word usage to the fullest degree, he is one funny muthasucka!
napoleon dynamite or...: WhATevER! there is no or when it comes to mr dynamite!
oprah or ellen: i mean really. oprah - i love u porgy. but ellen dances! and she's funny. i'll just keep buying that stupid oprah book that you are on the covere of, every month. i love u oprah. i swear i do - but if you ain't throwing hip hop under the bus, you are boring as hell!
man's hands or feet: both. i like nice feet. and i love clean (not manicured) hands.
first date kiss or fourth date sex: definitely 1st date kiss. sex has no time limit. but its real doubtful. especially in the land of new york city!
will smith & jada pinkett smith or courtney vance & angela bassett: why not both? i like flyy black love. it makes me believe in shyt.
religion or spirtuality: spirtituality. my god and me get a long great. its your judgements that be fuk'n up the translation!
mind f*ck or titty f*ck: well i'm a writer. so i guess i'm full of mind f*ckin' now aren't i?
tag: all of u'z! dammit.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
pied piper
If you are reading this
It is late
You are tired
Your bones hurt with the irony of knowing
He is not coming to bed
Not coming home
Not sleeping in your embrace,
Again.
Face the music when the sun rises
Falter your footsteps to the kitchen, the bathroom – the front door
But look back and compromise – once more
Say this is the last time
The last time you’ll love someone so much you forget that you ever wanted something tangible:
a note, a hug, a kiss, a tug at your braids, a pull for your hips
something that says you aren’t crazy for feeling this
dementia,
that shreds your nervous system into confetti
Dye your insides fuchsia and forget the blues ever existed
You never liked them anyway
Not even when you showered together
Or when you read the paper – line by line as if his words and your tongue were born like this
And you know now, the silence
Was just the beginning
It was the prelude to all that jazz
And blackened burned molasses turned harsh syrupy sinister
slight the warm-blooded and
Reflect the lives of dead men walking/writers
You fell in love with a poet and blame your mother for not telling you
There will always be another stage brighter than the one in your bedroom
Than the one that connected your eyes to each other
Across the room…that night
You will always believe in him
More than the words he’s stitched to papers himself
SOS’d his soul in between the lines
But, this is not your cue
You will never save him
The phone calls from across the country
Are lifelines sucking away your lifeforce
He loves you enough to not kill you - physically
But, mentally…
He’s already sharpened the sword.
Samurai swung at your skull
And watched your eyes spiral in the wind
I wish this were a metaphor
It’s nothing but plain old English truth;
He was never your God,
Who promised to save your soul, after the altering of your alter
I wish this were a metaphor
But it is nothing but plain paper bag and shoeless truth;
He is of no cloth that will bring pride to African warriors or Kings
He is too beautiful and brilliant and cunning for you to notice
The malicious tongue
That darts between his lips while singing you the same song
He sang for her in Japan, London, Los Angeles, Texas and New York
The words may change,
But the melody is as clear as the flutist stealing
Children from their home:
Empty beds taunting the graves with bare coffins
Lucky you…
To earn the movement of free will and still shuffle your feet from an awakening
So pure
Tell me how much it hurts to hear these words
Find a mirror and trail the reflection of a woman
Once upon a time -- she looked just like you.
Except, she was special
It is late
You are tired
Your bones hurt with the irony of knowing
He is not coming to bed
Not coming home
Not sleeping in your embrace,
Again.
Face the music when the sun rises
Falter your footsteps to the kitchen, the bathroom – the front door
But look back and compromise – once more
Say this is the last time
The last time you’ll love someone so much you forget that you ever wanted something tangible:
a note, a hug, a kiss, a tug at your braids, a pull for your hips
something that says you aren’t crazy for feeling this
dementia,
that shreds your nervous system into confetti
Dye your insides fuchsia and forget the blues ever existed
You never liked them anyway
Not even when you showered together
Or when you read the paper – line by line as if his words and your tongue were born like this
And you know now, the silence
Was just the beginning
It was the prelude to all that jazz
And blackened burned molasses turned harsh syrupy sinister
slight the warm-blooded and
Reflect the lives of dead men walking/writers
You fell in love with a poet and blame your mother for not telling you
There will always be another stage brighter than the one in your bedroom
Than the one that connected your eyes to each other
Across the room…that night
You will always believe in him
More than the words he’s stitched to papers himself
SOS’d his soul in between the lines
But, this is not your cue
You will never save him
The phone calls from across the country
Are lifelines sucking away your lifeforce
He loves you enough to not kill you - physically
But, mentally…
He’s already sharpened the sword.
Samurai swung at your skull
And watched your eyes spiral in the wind
I wish this were a metaphor
It’s nothing but plain old English truth;
He was never your God,
Who promised to save your soul, after the altering of your alter
I wish this were a metaphor
But it is nothing but plain paper bag and shoeless truth;
He is of no cloth that will bring pride to African warriors or Kings
He is too beautiful and brilliant and cunning for you to notice
The malicious tongue
That darts between his lips while singing you the same song
He sang for her in Japan, London, Los Angeles, Texas and New York
The words may change,
But the melody is as clear as the flutist stealing
Children from their home:
Empty beds taunting the graves with bare coffins
Lucky you…
To earn the movement of free will and still shuffle your feet from an awakening
So pure
Tell me how much it hurts to hear these words
Find a mirror and trail the reflection of a woman
Once upon a time -- she looked just like you.
Except, she was special
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
daddy...daddy. daddy. hi daddy!!
you gotta love kids.
im sitting here, ohio waiting for my host to be done on the computer.
there is a baby yelling "hi daddy. hi daddy, daddy!? daddy!? daddY!"
saw scott woods, psi president, when i came to the library. as usual, he's too cool for school.
dropped my daughter off @ early this morning. but not before she ran back upstairs because she forgot her homework. then back down cause she remembered she did INDEED have her homework. but after she left her homework book the car seat - YES! this is my life on any given day. when i have to make it to Laguardia Airport in less than 30 minutes to assure my delayed plane, won't leave me. and YES. this all happens after my cd duplicator, JAMAL, tells me to come pick up my cd's - and when i get there, he confesses he didnt have the master copy and can i bring it back. that's a NO jamal... fa realz. but i get here. and i slept on the lil' jet, like i wasn't scrunching up all these thighs into a seat that probably fit my smaller than myself (in 8th grade).
i wrote my thank you letter last nite. my gratitude list. and feel happy. i ate steak and cheddar cheese eggs in Ohio, 'cause i could. how many people can do that? i am blessed. just like the baby screaming for her father in the middle of the deadliest of silent libraries. tucked in her carseat. prideful over the joy of knowing her daddy's face.
im sitting here, ohio waiting for my host to be done on the computer.
there is a baby yelling "hi daddy. hi daddy, daddy!? daddy!? daddY!"
saw scott woods, psi president, when i came to the library. as usual, he's too cool for school.
dropped my daughter off @ early this morning. but not before she ran back upstairs because she forgot her homework. then back down cause she remembered she did INDEED have her homework. but after she left her homework book the car seat - YES! this is my life on any given day. when i have to make it to Laguardia Airport in less than 30 minutes to assure my delayed plane, won't leave me. and YES. this all happens after my cd duplicator, JAMAL, tells me to come pick up my cd's - and when i get there, he confesses he didnt have the master copy and can i bring it back. that's a NO jamal... fa realz. but i get here. and i slept on the lil' jet, like i wasn't scrunching up all these thighs into a seat that probably fit my smaller than myself (in 8th grade).
i wrote my thank you letter last nite. my gratitude list. and feel happy. i ate steak and cheddar cheese eggs in Ohio, 'cause i could. how many people can do that? i am blessed. just like the baby screaming for her father in the middle of the deadliest of silent libraries. tucked in her carseat. prideful over the joy of knowing her daddy's face.
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