28 posts tagged “washington dc”
The real nitty gritty has begun on the house.
Dust covers the heavy duty plastic covering on the furniture in the kitchen and dinning room. New copper pipes replace old rotted ones. Parts of the living room and kitchen have been knocked out to make way for a new bathroom on the main level. Old furniture pieces have been donated.
My back (and even a part of my chest) hurts from all of the packing, moving and even carrying my child around on a daily basis.
Change is here and in a big way.
In the midst of packing up my bedroom I've thrown away a lot things.
A couple of old book bags filled with classwork from my junior and high school years, old and broken trinkets and donated just about my entire closet of clothes and shoes to charity; stuff I hadn't worn since the late 80s and well into the 90s.
I came across old printed out emails, including one from my "Him from New York"; professing his "love" for me. Whatever...
I've come across many pictures and loose change.. I didn't realized I had so many pictures and money scattered about.
In the midst of all of this change I can't help but wonder what is in store for the future.
Indeed I'm in this new phase in life, but I don't know how to describe it. It almost feels as if I'm in the same position I was in during my first brink of real change.... very pivotal.
The urge to write has hit me and I'm a bit frustrated cause within this week alone soooo much had to be done before the walls could be knocked into no time to really write. i just pray that the thoughts retain in my head, even as I dream.
Now that the renovation work has officially begun, it sort of caught everyone in the household a little off guard - even though we've known about this since the planning stages. Yet, to see a drastic change to your HOUSE go on right before your eyes is "a hold your breath" kinda thing.
This is indeed not only a change in my life but in my parents as well. For 28 years all of us have LIVED in this house - a house that was originally built in the 50s(?) by an old white guy - who built it for him and his grown son. His son never moved in, because once the house was finished he had gone to live elsewhere and started a family on his own. This is the story my old Italian (next door) neighbor would tell our family over and over.
Speaking of which I miss Ms. Lovisa dearly. I grew up fascinated by her well kept garden in the backyard and her mini vineyard. Who ever heard of a mini vineyard with grapes growing wildly in Southeast Washington, DC? Ms. Lovisa may have very well left Italy, but Italy didn't leave her. And yes.. she did make wine and didn't hesitate in sharing with my father. She even picked me up from school a couple of times - once with a visiting relative from Italy and I got an earful of spoken Italian as I sat back and smile and nodded as if I understood.
It broke my heart when she was no longer able to care for herself. Her family placed her in a nursing home clear on the other side of town... more so in Montgomery County, MD near her sister. Her house was sold and I was a bit angry at the folks who now live in "Ms. Lovisa's House." How dare they get rid of her garden and dig up her beautiful peonies!
Again.. that was a change I wasn't ready for just yet.
Along with this change that is occurring there's Papi. I find myself haunted by past lovers; with opportunities that I could have jumped on but left alone. I'm definitely not the same girl. Each day I'm wanting Papi more and more. Still it's one day at a time. Just be. Last night we had gone to see The Roots and Erykah Badu perform. What's strange is, I've never been the cuddle in public type, but there I was with my head resting on his shoulder or my arm contently on his leg as Erykah Badu sang her heart out.
Side note: Can I just say I looked and felt sexy. I rarely say this often, even if it is about myself but I was hot! I found a dress at Torrid.. something like this - minus the pockets and mine is a dark gray. My jewelry from the Lalia Rowe store in Tyson's Corner... something like this - my necklace was multi-color with pastels pink, yellow, a mint green and light blue. My black six inch Steve Madden pumps and my black clutch from Aldo. Oh and of course the right touch of MAC make up. I even wore a little eyeshadow which is something I do once is a blue moon. Ironically, I matched Papi who was wearing gray and black; which is something I loathe when I see a couple matching. However, I had no idea he was going to wear such. Too bad we didn't take any pictures.
Change is in the air and I'm not talking about Obama's madness.
I feel like shedding more skin.
Recognize. Accept. Embrace.
Change.. feel it
It's obvious. I got work to do.
My day has been a little off today. I didn't feel like venturing out. I've been a bit irritable. The contractors came by today to take some extra measurements, and all I wanted them to do was leave me alone in the process. My sister and her little women are in town, but I promised myself to meet up with them tomorrow. There is a family function tonight, but I didn't feel like going. I can easily blame my shut-in-ness on PMS, but really....I just hear Ron Isley crooning from afar in my head...
"I'm taking care of business, baby can't you see
I gotta make it for you, and I gotta make it for me
Sometimes it may seem girl I'm neglecting you
I'd love to spend more time
But I got so many things to do
Ooh, I got work to do, I got work baby
I got a job yeah I got work to do"
Feeling a bit rejected and almost dejected from a single email, I managed not to wallow in my pity. I kept thinking and seeing the situation in a positive light.
What happened?
Well, a few weeks ago a fellow journalism buddy help me revamp my resume and craft a cover/pitch letter to a major news publication. They were looking for a shopping columnist within their "Source" (wink - hint hint) department. The position seemed perfect as it was part-time and the subject is right up my alley. Yet, I believed I screwed up a bit in applying. In my hast, I applied for the position without running it by any one for a look over. I was confident enough to send my materials over as is. I showed my buddy what I sent after the fact and basically we came to the conclusion, it was pretty much a disaster for this particular go around. Things could have been spruced up, shorten and tightened a bit more.
We stayed up a bit late hammering out a new cover letter and revamping the resume. I resent my materials, beating the deadline, and awaited a response. I finally received one yesterday, to which the assignment editor wrote that I didn't have enough experience for the position.
*insert my deep inhale and tears ready to ball*
Of course I shared the news with my buddy and she suggested that I respond with a thank you and ask specifically what would have qualified me for the position. At first I was just going to let the issue go. However, my emotions (PMS) got the better of me. I sent the assignment editor a three liner, thanking her for the consideration, asking what would have qualified me and thanking her for any advice she could give me for future pitches.
A couple hours later a response. Without giving any further advice, she simply stated that the position calls for someone who has experience in writing about fashion and the arts.
Duh!
Shit!
I sold myself SHORT!!!!!!
I've done this before! Maybe not for five to ten years and granted it was for my college paper, but I basically spent almost two years writing on such subjects! I went to gallery/exhibit openings throughout the city. I've interviewed curators, artists and etc and reported back to campus.
In talking with my journalism buddy, she suggested that since the lines of communication are open that it's really up to me to not let it go stale. I've made the decision that I will be contacting the assignment editor in the next couple of days to pitch an idea to her for a freelance article. Perhaps that will be my chance to audition to show that I CAN do this!
What's interesting, as I was clearing more room for the renovations the other day I came across an old pitch letter I had written up. It was addressed to Fader Magazine. I had full intent to pitch a story concerning the house music scene here in DC. My angle for the story was straight - pun not intended. I had interviewed a couple of underground DJs and was on the path to interview more.... then a distraction hit. I believe it was during the time my mother had her mild stroke. I put everything to the side. Fader never got "the memo." Story.. nonexistent. Story...defunct.
I still may pick it up again, but I have to investigate to see if my angle will still work. If it is still fresh.
As for the idea I want to pitch to Ms. Assignment Editor...... I need to go WORK on that.
I Got Work To Do.
"It is not the man of great native talent who wins, but he who pushes his talent, however small, to its utmost capacity."
- From the book "Things Your Mother Always Told You But You Didn't Want to Hear" by Carolyn Coats
Ten years ago this year I graduated from high school.
My next door neighbor "K" is a senior at my alma mata. Ironically her aunt is the music/choir instructor there - thanks in part to my mom who told her about the opening during my freshman year when the janky instructor at the time was being a bit of a scatter brain.
Lately I've been taking a special notice in K. It's hard to believe she is the same "girl" who would stick up under her aunt during our choir rehearsals. This is same chic that would get a kick out of my father's antics and would bring him a small token back from her family vacation. In a way I've unspokenly called her my little sis, especially since her schooling sorta followed in my foot steps. Aside from high school, she also attended the same elementary/jr high I attended.
Nevertheless, I've taken some joy or delight in watching K grow up before my eyes. I've figured this must be what it felt like for my long time neighbors to watch me grow in front of them. Proud and filled with a sense of pride. I'm even more excited for K as prom time is coming up. By my calculations (and if the school still runs on the same "graduation schedule") prom should either be this weekend or next. Graduation should be three weeks away.
In silently traveling the senior year journey with K, I can't help but to revisit some of my own feelings about my high school experience, especially as my class reunion is set for July. A couple of inquires have been sent to me via email or MySpace asking if I will be in attendance. I answered an old friend back via MySpace by telling her that most likely not. I hope to be doing some traveling around that time. Another old friend, who I was close with back then and reconnected with via the internet, is a part of the committee. She's been keeping me informed of what's what - not to mention the postcard mailer and the reunion package sent to my house. Then just the other day, a third friend sent me an email asking would I be there. I haven't responded.
My feelings about high school are very indifferent. Yes, there are a few people I would love to see again - mainly the few folks that survived high school with me. However, I really didn't like high school. It was a Catholic institution with a diverse group of students but majority Black. We were probably considered the most (or perhaps one of the) ghetto schools in the Archdiocese. I say that in light of some of the "upper crust Catholic schools" I battled with on the tennis court during my time on the varsity tennis team. A lot of us (students) came from a decent background or home life and yet I still didn't like the school. For a while I use to think it was because of the people in the school. Something about everyone urk'd my very nature. I use to think "this one" was too childish or "that one" was spoiled beyond belief. I hated the cliques that presented itself during freshman and sophomore year and believe me by junior year I found myself shaking my head at a lot of dissovled friendships.
No. I wasn't any kind of outcast or some reject that everyone ignored. No, I wasn't popular, but I had friends and I got along with most. I stayed quite, only trusting a couple, and even then I wasn't all that telling. I was active in choir, tennis and was delighted when I did the photography class and helped out with the year book. Being an aspiring writer, I even helped to come up with something (a passage) to be painted on the school's shed (it's a senior tradition to paint the shed reflecting the school and class spirit of the current senior class)
Still I couldn't stomach high school. I now realize I was expriencing a (perhaps) pre mature growing pain... or maybe not. I blame my Aquarius nature - the wise beyond years "fluff" - because I was soooooooo ready to move on to the next phase of my life. By then I was working part-time in the federal government and I was looking forward to college..more so the (so-called) going away part of college. High school, though it had its excitement, bored me and frustrated me. Also, I was partially "home-sick," meaning I was missing my "REAL" classmates that I had literally grown up with from Pre-k to 8th grade and desperately tried to stay in contact with. I managed to hold onto one, who after to all these years she still calls me her best friend and I do the same - even in our time of open space as we grew into adulthood.
It was eneivitable. I was growing up. No turning back.
By my senior year I was in my own world. I still managed to function in school, but slightly talking less to my friends, which prompted some of them to wonder what was up with me and even lightly tease me for being so... "aloof."
After the research paper, finals, prom and graduation I was rid of "them." The class of 1998.
Every once in a while I would bump into someone. On my college campus. At my old OBGYN. At a grocery store. At Ben's Chilli Bowl @ 4 am after a night of clubbing. At the club. Online. On the subway train to work. At the mall.
Then MySpace happened.
(Curse Tom for creating such a daft site)
I won't lie. I was curious to know who turned out to be what and doing what close to ten years later. I sent a couple of request. Virtually befriended some. Some sent a request to me. Perhaps a few I was shocked that they remembered me. I approved their request. Then some time later I began to get a funny feeling. It was almost as if I were back in high school again. However, that feeling wasn't just contained to my old classmates, it was really for the whole site.
Then 2008 rolled in with announcements on the reunion.
When the talks first developed about the reunion, for a minute (just a minute) I contemplated on my attendance. Would I really care to see these folks again? In all honesty, no. Other than the couple of friendships from high school that managed to maintain after, I have no connection to my old classmates.
I feel "aloof" again as the excitement around the reunion builds.
I'm sure it will be a swell time for those involved, but I wish to do other things.
High school is so past tense in my book.
I'm utterly speechless right now. I almost feel like crying. I feel like I'm experiencing another epiphany.
For the past couple of days, in light of my conversation I had with my aunt , I've been mulling over pushing myself (even harder) out of my comfort zone. As I scoped out a few more frelance gigs on journalism job boards, I almost felt intimidated. A lot of the freelance gigs that are up for grabs are based in New York. I thought back to one of my old writing & reporting professors and the journalism logic he shared; a journalist my have to be a nomad from time to time. So I'm not a full fledge journalist and most of the freelance projects I'm doing are more so on the creative side now. However, a lot of the "cool" projects I see are outside of DC. I STILL have this mindset that I can find a freelance gig or two in DC (or at least in the area) - one that I LIKE! It would accommodate my lifestyle and be convenient.
I often complained how creativity is often underground, hidden in the cracks of this city. It may not be as prevalent as in New York, maybe Philly and perhaps San Francisco or Chicago, because politics is the mother load here. So yes, I've been trying to carve out my own niche. However, today I took a look at what some of the projects from New York are looking for. Guidelines seems simple enough, but there goes that pain-in-the-ass self doubt. Am I really an expert on fashion? The woman who just put some pink and white poka dot sheets on her bed?
(don't ask)
I even considered posting a profile on another journalism site under their freelance section. That other pain in the ass set in, intimidation. I began to feel really small when browsing the other profiles and taking note of how many years they have been at this.
I started reading emails and clearing out my inbox. I came across one of those weekly gossip thingys that Ms. C always sends me. To be fair, the one she sends is really the most truthful. She actually sent it a week ago, so I'm a bit late on the latest. I skimmed through not caring much about Star Jones and Al Rynolds' divorce, Eddie Murphy wanting the engagement ring back from Tracey Emmonds or even Whitney Houston and Brandy's brother, Ray J, dating again (yuck!). My eyes locked on a small paragraph about Jill Scott.
Jill Scott, along with actresses Angie Harmon and Gabrielle Union, go nude for Allure Magazine's annual "nude" issue. I did a quick search on the net and there is was, a pre posting of what to expect in the May issue of Allure Magazine.
I got a chance to read the inset attached to her picture. Jill talks about how nervous she was. She couldn't sleep the night before. She didn't think she would feel comfortable in doing this. Her comfort zone of being her naked size 16 self is usually in her home, when she is alone. Yet, she did this to join up with Allure's cause - to celebrate EVERY woman no matter her size. Basically Jill pushed passed her comfort zone. The end result; a liberation she never felt before.
(see photo shoot in video below)
I
I feel inspired. Being naked in front of strangers, let alone to have your "beauty" posted for publication is not the easiest thing to do - unless you just that damn confident about yourself. My writing and my professional experiences, creative or journalistic, are me; EXPOSED.
My self doubt and intimidation are going to have to take a back seat. I'm on a mission as I seek my liberation.
I can't seem to stay away from the Baltimore area lately...
The weather was too nice in the DC area on Saturday to waste, but I still wanted to skate out of town for a min. I felt like driving.
The contactors returned with their drilling and banging. I was in no mood for a headache and the Snickerdoodle wanted out. I called my brother, Chuck, to see if he wanted to take a ride with us to either Baltimore or Annapolis. I was thinking more so of Fells Point in Baltimore. I don't know... for some reason I felt like being near some water, but the funny thing was I didn't feel like being bothered with crowds of people. Fells Point STAYS crowded, but I still like the energy of the place. Nevertheless, Chuck didn't answer. I even thought about "kidnapping" Papi for the ride, especially since I had a feeling I would be stopping at my favorite crab place near the Owings Mills area. Papi loves seafood. However, I left him alone.
I believe Saturday was meant for mother/daughter time anyways.
It was just me and the Snickerdoodle riding up the Baltimore/Washington Parkway for the second time this week. With some extra "cushion" in my "stash", I was able to splurge on myself a bit. Well, the previous day I was able to upgrade to a new phone. While in the Baltimore area, the Carrie Bradshaw in me made me stop by my favorite shoe warehouse. I bought a nice pair of peep toe black patent leather Enzo Angiolini heels. I didn't dawn on me until I got home that I haven't worn black patent leather shoes since I was 18!!! Why have been holding out for so long?
Nevertheless my Snickerdoodle and I enjoyed our day together with the shoe shopping, a stop at a grocery store to pick up a few items for her and dinner at Captain Harvey's along Reisterstown Rd.
Now the rain is pouring, the Snickerdoodle is asleep, the house is quiet.
I feel like writing.
Good Night.
Tired...
In awe...
Blessed...
I'm not sure where to begin to talking about what has taken place this weekend. Today's climax with TWO church services was the icing on the proverbial cake.
Though I basically write my blog reflections for myself - providing that years later I will look back on these virtual pages and go "What was I thinking?" - I doubt that my visible and invisible readers are interested in knowing how the renovations have started.. well just some wiring work. The electricity was shut off for much of the day on Saturday while the electrician toiled away. Everyone was out and about running their errands in the midst of crazy traffic. DC had a lot going on this weekend and I was caught in it.. from the National Marathon, to the Cherry Blossom festival and later on when I dropped my folks off at the National's exhibition baseball game in the opening of the new ballpark.
Yet.. all of that is not the real crux of my thought.
My agenda for this weekend was to mainly celebrate life.. my Snickerdoodle's life.
Today she is a year old.
However, in the midst of my daughter's birthday, a life suddenly was taken by the grace of God.
My immediate cousin Richard... whom we affectionately called "Cuz."
In other journals that I've kept, I've referred to Cuz in reference to 9/11. He was a pilot for American Airlines and everyone was concerned about him in the midst of the horrific events of that day. His plane was destined for California. However, he was already up in the air when the hijackings and crashings were taking place. He was grounded in Texas, which was good for him since he has relatives there.
While it is obvious that his time to leave this life wasn't during 9/11, it is painful to know this time was the right time. As the "story" goes. He was diagnosed with cancer this past Nov. I'm not sure what type or how far advanced it was. All I know is, he apparently took a turn for the worse this past week and quietly passed away yesterday morning at the age of 41, leaving behind one 13 year old son we call "Penta."
Yesterday, I was pretty much in shock about the news. 1) I hadn't seen Cuz in a couple of years and I wasn't sure how to feel since I wasn't THAT close to him, he was....is still family. 2) I didn't know he had cancer.
Needless to say I pressed on with today.
It was already on my agenda to go with my family to hear my Aunt VJ preach. She has been a minister in training at her church and today was her initial sermon with a presentation for her to received her license. The whole thing about my Aunt VJ preaching wasn't a total shock because I knew that she has been working on this for a while. However, after today I see my aunt in a different light now. As of recent I would joke about Aunt VJ being a "Battle Ax," and how going to her house was like suburbia hell for me since becoming an adult with all my married and family oriented cousins around me... the single still in school.. (the sorta) gone astray chic.
I will be the first say, I'm EXTREMELY proud of my Aunt VJ and how well she preached today, especially in light of Cuz's death who is her (step) son. When I saw my family today, we were all in good spirits, but we were mostly concerned about Uncle Rich (Cuz's father/ Aunt VJ's husband). Uncle Rich is a strong, proud man. A wonderful father! I've always admired him..dispite the fact he is republican (hehehe). Uncle Rich gets emotional and he isn't too proud to show it. So even at the mention of Cuz during service today... and even during Uncle Rich's dedication and Aunt VJ giving her praise thanks to Cuz...
The family broke down.
My tears broke loose.
Cuz's presence was felt.
Yet, in the midst of his death... we still celebrated life.
Aunt VJ preached form the Old Testament.. Deuteronomy Chapter 30 --- mainly focusing on verse 19.
"I call heaven and earth to record this day against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing: therefore choose life, that both thou and thy seed (your children) may live." - KJV
Aunt VJ preached from the perspective of how folks can be the walking dead - living a life under the wrong spirit and allowing unnecessary suffering to enter. Choosing God allows life and light to come into your life and bring an unfounded peace. Life is different when you have divine peace. For me, her message actually coincided with my pastor's message from today - about unlikely candidates of being used/blessed by God. Earlier in the day I attended my own church and was hit with a reaffirming message that my life does have a purpose. Also, that pain is a part of life and the blessing in pain or hitting a deeper low is being built up. He used the analogy of tall buildings having a deeper foundation in order for it to be supported properly and able to withstand the strength it is built upon.
With the two sermons today, I was able to knock down some discouraging thoughts I had earlier in the week about my life. I had allowed some unsettling thoughts come in and I began to question some overall decisions I've made and perhaps having regrets. Yet, in that particular time I didn't stop to think about the blessings that have been delivered unto me, especially in regards to my daughter. I'll admit, sometimes I'm quick to forget how much of a blessing she is to me , because all I see were mistakes I've made in which she became the end result. Even though my daughter, in all of her beauty and innocence, is the love of my life and really can't imagine myself without her since her arrival, I still have a hard time forgetting and forgiving myself and even her father for what WAS, because situations could have been avoided altogether.
It's a process that I've been working on resolving from within. However I can go "would've, could've should've" all I want, but maybe this whole experience of being a single mom was in the cards for me all along. Hearing my cousin LaJaun (who is also studying to become a minister) giving her thanks to her mom, Aunt VJ and small testimony about being the "product" of a 16 year old mother, I felt encouraged. So, despite the blues I felt during the past week or so, I choose to live.
Being around my family today (or any other time) I’m always filled with some sense of being whole. Even with this side of my family – my father’s side – we’re close, but not close. There is a broken connection somewhere and I use to get on everyone for not calling from time to time to say hello. Ironically it was my Uncle Mike who did that this time around. However, as he criticized my father for not being in touch, in the same token he hasn’t been, nor Aunt VJ. From the looks of things, it seems as if Uncle Mike and Aunt VJ’s clans have gelled together in the past couple of years; and still only calling my father and Aunt J in Seattle when something “special” is going on.
Honestly, I’ll admit, while the desire is there for me to draw my family closer, I haven’t made any attempts myself. My dream has always been to buy a house and have regular gatherings with my family (from both sides) in my house, even being a host to Aunt J when she comes to DC to visit so she won’t have to worry about staying with my cousin LaJuan all the time or in a hotel.
Work with the connection still needs to be done.
Aside from the "shadow of death" and other feelings, the Snickerdoodle had a very good first birthday. It may seem a bit unconventional to forego a birthday party and just spend time with the family and in church all day, but she enjoyed it. Just before leaving the house to see Aunt VJ, I iced up a cupcake that I made with chocolate frosting, lit her candle, and the family gathered to sing “Happy Birthday.” She dug into her cupcake…with a little help from me and of course got chocolate all over her face and hands – thankfully not on her “Sunday Best!!!!”
During Aunt VJ service, I was nervous because I didn’t know how the Snickerdoodle would hold up; being that it was close to her dinner time. She was a bit busy or fidgety, but she handled it well. Thankfully, all of us went to a nearby Old Country Buffet for dinner and the Snickerdoodle was started to get fussy then, but her food shut her up. The birthday wasn’t quite over, as my Aunt Edith and my mother told the staff that today was the Snickerdoodle birthday.
Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Ten minutes later the staff made a big announcement and everyone in the place was singing happy birthday to the Snickerdoodle.
Note: I wish my camera was working properly at the time to catch the Snickerdoodle’s face. The look she gave was hilarious as if to say “Why is everyone singing and looking at me?” My camera briefly went on the brink as some of the Snickerdoodle’s milk got in between lens and made it sticky. It started working properly again once I got home.
It’s after ten in the evening and it sounds as if the Snickerdoodle is tuckered out.
*Pause to check*
The party girl hasn’t crashed just yet, but it is coming.
I think I feel my crash coming too.
There hasn't been much to speak on from my end lately. What has been on my mind lately is music. For the past week or so, I've been doing my usual, immersing myself in a musical abyss. However, I think I've dove a little deeper than the usual.
So a few entries back I wrote about how Jay-Z knows my addiction with his song "I know." The song and video has captivated me in such a way I can't explain. Okay, yes Jay is talking as if he were a drug enticing the addict. Okay, maybe it does help that Zoe Kravitz (daughter of Lisa Bonet and Lenny Kravitz) is the amazingly beautiful young lady featured in the video helping to convey a message that she tried to live her life, but was addicted to heroin. No, I'm not a drug addict, never have and never will be. Yet, I took a different spin on the song; more like Jay talking as addiction (yes) but in a lust/love human, spiritual connection form. Knowing what I know about me and my past ( in regards to sex and relationships) I can say.. I can relate to this song on some level.
So yes, Jay has been on repeat for a while.
Since I've been in a repeat-and-listen-to-the-lyrics-closely-mood, I've been hypnotized by Janet Jackson again.
I've been excited about the release of Janet's Discipline album. Though I don't have the album in my collection just yet, I'm itching to get it. I understand that this go around she didn't write any of the songs. Yet, as one critic put it, these songs seemed to be written and tailored just for her. It's the old Janet with the funky make you get outta your seat dance beats.
So far, the only single that has caught on with me (until I get a hold of others) has been "Feedback," which was written by music producer Rodney "Darkchild" Jerkins and three other writers (Dernst Emilie, Tasleema Yasin and LaShawn).
The song is hot! Anytime I hear it I crank up the volumn. However, yanno how Janet can do with her singing sometimes... a slight mumble (I'm thinking about If I Was Your Girl from the JANET album - thank God the CD came with Lyrics.) So yeah.. there were parts of Feedback I couldn't fully make out and maybe I was just in a bit shock and awe about what was said. Such was the couple of lines fom her bridge(?) verse.
"..my swag is something serious. something like first day period"
Hilariously bold right?
And then the actual chorus.
"Strum me like a guitar. Blow out my amplifier. When you hear some feedback keep going take it higher."
I couldn't do nothing but laugh and be a little jealous that I didn't write such lines. Nevertheless, no matter who wrote it, Janet delivers it in hardcore Janet style and I appreciate that.
Moving on from Janet to Erykah Badu. I've been giddy ever since the release of her latest album New Amerykah. I've been down with Badu since she's been on the scene. I'm still savoring my Badu concert experience from a few years back. I'm even more giddy that Papi is working on getting tickets for us to see her live with The Roots (another awesome group) soon.
Until I see her, I've been biding my time listening to her "Annie," which is the break out song from the Honey video.
"Annie. Don't wear no panties."
I caught her live performance of the song for VH1's sound stage today. I must say it's pure Erkyah and I love it!
You can view the full performance here -----------> Erykah performing Annie.
Now the biggie of all biggies.
I'll admit, I'm a little late in hearing and catching onto an artist by the name of M.I.A and her controversial song "Paper Planes."
I just recently heard the song as it is currently the featured song on Natalie Dee's My Space page. I'm not sure why, but immediately I really liked the song. I wasn't paying much attention to the lyrics at first, but for some reason I just associated it with one of my "imaginary" crazy moods - the mood where I just wanna smack some "ignant" fool for disrespecting and disrupting me. Admit it, we all have a mood that isn't really real.. more like a fake persona. However, after doing some investigation on the song I realized what M.I.A. was talking about it and I liked even more.
Her message in the song deals with immirgrants and how a society (probably American) may view them. The controversy comes in because of the whole gunshot sound effect in her chorus, which in essence does present some kind of blunt hardcore statement.
Here's a snippet of a write up on Wikipedia (oye!)
M.I.A. explains the gun sounds as a joke, an answer to having problems entering the U.S. She thought that the worst thing for someone to say would be, "What I wanna do is come and take your money", and hence said it in the song with sound effects. She went on to state that "people don’t really feel like immigrants or refugees contribute to culture in any way. That they’re just leeches that suck from whatever".
My personal view on immigrantion; well I'm all for anyone who wants to come here (to the US) LEGALLY and contribute. If you happen to come as a "refugee" or illegally and you want to stay.. what's wrong with going to an advocacy group to help you with the process of becoming a citizen? I wonder what would happen if I were to go and claim permanent residence in Germany, Bangladesh, London, Brazil, China, Denmark, South Africa, Vancouver....
They would "naturalize" my ass in a heartbeat!
That's just my two cents.
Yet, I still like this crazy whacked out song! Because for real.... I can't help but picture the vendor stands I see downtown with my Africans and Asians brothers/sisters selling knockoff purses, sunglasses and dead batteries and my Latinos and Latinas selling (half dead) roses and carnations in the middle of rush hour traffic - mainly along the ramp from 395 to the Sousa Bridge into Southeast, DC.
I fly like paper, get high like planes
If you catch me at the border I got visas in my name
If you come around here, I make them all day
I get one down in a second if you wait
I fly like paper, get high like planes
If you catch me at the border I got visas in my name
If you come around here, I make them all day
I get one down in a second if you wait
Sometimes I feel sitting on trains
Every stop I get to I'm clocking that game
Everyone's a winner now we're making that fame
Bona fide hustler, making my name
Sometimes I feel sitting on trains
Every stop I get to I'm clocking that game
Everyone's a winner now we're making that fame
Bona fide hustler, making my name
All I want to do is BANG BANG BANG BANG!
And KA-CHING!
And take your money
All I want to do is BANG BANG BANG BANG!
And KA-CHING!
And take your money
All I want to do is BANG BANG BANG BANG!
And KA-CHING!
And take your money
Pirate skulls and bones
Sticks and stones and weed and bombs
Running when we hit them
Lethal poison through their system
Pirate skulls and bones
Sticks and stones and weed and bombs
Running when we hit them
Lethal poison through their system
No one on the corner has swagger like us
Hit me on my banner, prepaid wireless
We pack and deliver like UPS trucks
Already going to hell just pumping that gas
No one on the corner has swagger like us
Hit me on my banner, prepaid wireless
We pack and deliver like UPS trucks
Already going to hell just pumping that gas
All I want to do is BANG BANG BANG BANG!
And KA-CHING!
And take your money
All I want to do is BANG BANG BANG BANG!
And KA-CHING!
And take your money
All I want to do is BANG BANG BANG BANG!
And KA-CHING!
And take your money
M.I.A.
Third world democracy
Yeah, I got more records than the K.G.B.
So, uh, no funny business
Some, some, some, I some I murder
Some, I some I let go
Some, some, some, I some I murder
Some, I some I let go
All I want to do is BANG BANG BANG BANG!
And KA-CHING!
And take your money
All I want to do is BANG BANG BANG BANG!
And KA-CHING!
And take your money
All I want to do is BANG BANG BANG BANG!
And KA-CHING!
And take your money
All I want to do is BANG BANG BANG BANG!
And KA-CHING!
And take your money
After a quick run to Bethesda, MD, the Snickerdoodle and I skipped back into town and caught the current exhibit of orchids at the U.S. Botanic Garden. Originally I was going to save this for a sunny spring (like) day, but I figured we could do it today. I didn't feel like being in the house and I'm sure neither did she. She was giddy getting up this morning, eating her breakfast, taking her bath and getting dressed. Screw our internal clocks that are still pretty much jacked up from the early time change.
Needless to say it's going a little after 8:30 pm and the Snickerdoodle is in her bed - ZONK'D.
Luckly me to have found an available two hour meter near the building. I guess today was our day for an outing afterall.
For today's entry, I'm sharing some of the photos I took as the Snickerdoodle and I - more so me - oogled at the orchids. If anyone can tell that knows or doesn't know me well enough... Orchids are my absolute favorite flower. Any kind party/function I have MUST have orchids.
Yes.. I'm making it mandatory.
I still have a few more photos to load onto Flickr, but really I don't have the patience for all of that right now.
If anyone is catching this post via Google, surfing, etc and you are a resident of the DC area or planning to visit, I urge that you check out this beautifully exquisite exhibit. It is indeed an annual affair, so if you miss it this year don't fret. For more details check out the US Bostanic Garden website.
Well enough chatter....enjoy.
The outside garden isn't in "season" or in bloom yet. However I'm so captivated by the Butterfly benches inside the outside garden. Again.. butterflies are one of my favorite "things." (just check out my tattoo - if you're lucky) I love what they symbolize. Looking at this bench actually reminds me of the nearby garden kept by the Smithsonian. I will have to get the fame a bit later. A few years back I did a photo journalism project for a journalism course in school. I went to this particular garden by the Smithsonian and captured a few shots of Swan Benches. When I get the energy I shall share my picture portfolio of that particular garden.
Well... This is Mahoganie..
Signing off for the evening.
Until next entry.
A few minutes ago, in the midst of my shower, I had an epiphany.
My life (somewhat) maybe taking a twist just as Tracy Chambers.
The Original Mahogany:
Tracy (Diana Ross) was an aspiring fashion designer, who worked a mundane job as a buyer's assistant for a large mid to upper scale department store. She went to fashion school at night and marketed her fashions during her spare time to local designers - none of which were feeling her designs and even offering her jobs as their secretary. Along the way she meets Brian (Billy Dee Williams) an up and coming politican running for alderman. A mini love story ensues. However, she finds herself working within his campaign for a while. Of course the old concept of putting-her-dreams-on-the-back-burner-to-help-her-man became evident, but it was suddenly interrupted. As expected an opportunity of a lifetime is presented to Tracy and she made no hesitation about jumping on it.
Off to Europe to persue her fashion goals she went, leaving behind Brian to try and fulfill his dream alone.
The Revamped: Mahoganie v2.0;
Despite my previous and current experience as a writer/journalist life is at a standstill right now. It's growing harder and harder for me to knock down walls and break down doors. I've been making a lot of noise, but I'm not sure if my voice has been loud enough thus far.
I've enjoyed the time I am having benig home to take care of my daughter. There's nothing like watching your kid grow right before your eyes and you being there to help them along the way. Yet, mommy needs to get out and be active again to improve upon what we already have.
Those that have been reading me for a while know that my family has been politically active on the local level; more so my parents as I've been involved just enough to get my feet wet, make a few introductions and keep going. Yet this time I'm being asked to be in this full throttle. YA is up for re-election for her council seat. She's pretty much a shoe-in as she is running unopposed and so far the constituients in our ward do like her and like the service she has done so far. It's interesting that my family is well known throughout her camp, because when my parents are absent from the scene of things I can brace myself for the flooded back to back phone calls and even emails asking if everyone is ok.
Right now, if I should choose to accept the mission, my capacity in the campaign would be as her scheduler. I'm not sure if she'll come to me, as before, for light editing/proofreading help. Though being a scheduler isn't such a glamorous task, I can say that it would have its perks.
1. I'll get paid
2. The office isn't far from the house
3. I could drag the Snickerdoodle with me if I wanted to
4. Hopefully, I can make more connections
5. I could set my hours
I still plan to handle my writing (thing) on the side... freelance ... pitch ideas like crazy...continue my search for liteary agent.
(sidenote: As a writer I am realizing that as much as I love DC and have a lot of pride being a native Washingtonian, this city lacks creativity. Washington, DC is soooooooooooo political that for a creative person like me, we basically have to carve our own niche', because creative outlets here are far and few. Politics just run this city and basically you would have to turn to the underground world for the misfits, bohemians, etc. etc.)
I'm banking on making that right connection that could fit me in full time to something that I want to do. I'm sorry. I'll admit. After working that assistant editor job, I realized.. that is what I need to be doing. This is what I'm suppose to be doing. I was happy while doing it, despite its challenges and my dysfunctional "relationship" with my boss, Mr. Yellow. I loved it. Yes, sometimes I sort of do regret leaving it behind because of the dysfuntional crap. However, I do realize in the long run I did the right thing.
When I was first presented with this mission, I really did turn my nose up at it. Because immediately I thought "failure" to myself. Despite everything that I've gained professionally, my mind reverted back to my days in the Federal government when I was just an admin person silently screaming. I went through a lot mentally, emotionally and spiritually to "find myself" and realized that working a straight 9 to 5 wasn't for me, at least not within the Federal government. However, I did say, if I were to return to the government I would do so by way of the Smithsonian, because they aren't as formal and drab as the rest. Yet, even in my efforts to become part of the Smithsonian family as a writer/editor for any of their various publications - even having my resume reviewed in the final panel - I was shot down. My theory, because I don't have my Bachelors (which I'm trying to remedy asap)
Still, right now I need some "change" in my pocketbook so the Snickerdoodle and I can do our thing. So I'm working on swallowing my pride and accepting this task, while keeping the faith and hope for something in my realm to come my way...all the while waiting for Howard to send my enrollment package to so I can complete this final year and officially be declared "graduate".
Like Tracy, I'm sure if an opportunity of a lifetime comes by, I won't let it slip. However, unlike Tracy I will have the courtesy to bid YA ado before leaving. You gotta admit, Diana did Billy wrong to just up and leave at a moments notice. No note or nothing.
In the meantime, I'm tearing the house up looking for my mother's copy of "The Purpose Driven Life." I think I'm ready to face up to it and read it now. Before, I couldn't get caught up in the freenzy over this book. Now the thought and the urge of wanting to read this book has just been attacking me lately. If need be, I'll just check it out of the libray.
I think there is a lot to be said when the only sanity I've been able to find lately are moments alone with my daughter and sitting down to write (blog, novel, short stoary, whatever)
For the past few days I've been FA & FO - or as I've been calling it.....
Fucking Annoyed & Frankly Offended
My 'TUDE started late Tuesday evening, when I received a phone call from a DC Government Agency - namely the