Friday, June 26, 2009

Rock Forever

Even though the pain and heartache
Seems to follow me wherever I go
Though I try and try to hide my feelings
They always seem to show
Then you try to say you're leaving me
And I always have to say no...Tell me why
Is it so
That I
Never can say goodbye
No no no no,
Never can say goodbye

This was my initial shock on hearing the news while on my way to a baseball game. Nah-uh, stop playing. Mike ain't dead. How can you believe a gossip site?? (tmz first confirmed it)

Another day is gone, I'm still all alone
How could this be, when you're not here with me
You never said goodbye, someone tell me why
Did you have to go, and leave my world so cold
Everyday I sit and ask myself
How did love slip away?
Something whispers in my ear and says,
That you are not alone
I am here with you
Though you're far away
I am here to stay
You are not alone
I am here with you
Though we're far apart
You're always in my heart
But you are not alone

On Friday, these lyrics made me close my office door (even though I was here solo) and openly weep for his passing. I started this blog on Friday (as evidenced by the date above) but I didn't have it in me to write anything. On Friday it was real. There was no "Gotcha". No waving of the gloved hand from a hospital window. Nada. Just sadness and disbelief.

So tonight gotta leave that nine to five upon the shelf
And just enjoy yourself
Groove, let the madness in the music get to you
Life ain't so bad at all
If you live it off the wall
Life ain't so bad at all (live life off the wall)
Live your life off the wall (live it off the wall)

By Friday afternoon, I had received over a dozen emails, text messages and facebook announcements that my favorite Friday party was gonna be an MJJ tribute. So as he instructed I left my 9 to 5 up on the shelf, and just enjoyed myself. Despite the line to get in (and I have NAYVER stood on line for this party), despite my five inch heels not lasting as long as I would have like them to, I partied just as Michael Jackson has been instructing me to do all my life:

Gotta hide your inhibitions
Gotta let that fool loose deep inside your soul
Want to see an exhibition
Better do it now before you get to old'
Cause we're the party people night and day
Livin' crazy that's the only way

I let that fool loose on the dance floor. It was the only way I knew to pay my respects to the man who was my first celebrity crush (back when he was brown skinned, and had had only maybe 1 or 2 nose jobs), the man who I saw in concert ON my birthday as a kid (I swore he planned it that way), the man who has provided a significant portion of the soundtrack to my life. By the end of the night, my entire body had cried a sea of tears in sweat.

You give me butterflies inside, inside and I
All I gotta say is that I must be dreaming, can't be real
You're not here with me, still I can feel you near to me

I hope the world allows this man to truly rest in peace. We will still feel him near with his songs, his movie videos, his gravity defying dance moves(Real Talk: How many of you busted your ass trying to moonwalk in socks or the Smooth Criminal lean??? hahahahahaa). Every time you hear his "shamon"s or his "ma ma se ma ma sa moo ma coo sa", you'll feel those butterlies and remember the time..........

And when the grove is dead and gone
yeah, you know that love survives
so we can rock forever

Michael Joseph Jackson August 29, 1958 - June 25, 2009

While he couldn't live forever, his music and his legacy will survive and there is no doubt that we'll rock forever.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Nuts and Bolts Workout

I just returned from my lunch time workout at the gym. Operation Bangin' Beach Body aka Operation I Like to Wear as Little Clothing as Humanly Possible and Still Look Good is in full effect. Since there is a location of my gym right in my office building's underground maze I have NO DAMN EXCUSE why I shouldn't be there during lunch time. While today wasn't my first day there, it was definitely blog worthy. Lesson learned: there are some strange folks in the gym in the middle of the day.

First, after changing my clothes I go further downstairs to torture room *ahem* I mean machine room. I find a free elliptical machine (love that machine) and pop my Ipod earbuds into my ears. As Beyonce is singing the hell out of Deja Vu to warm me up on the machine, I notice a man with a sweatband and mactching wrist bands sitting on a machine behind me and slightly to my right. Initially I figured, he must be exhausted from just completing his workout and focus on my task at hand. Later, as Leaders of the New School are telling me all about the "Scenario", I look up and see dude still sitting there now with his head tilted slightly to the left in my direction.

Oh no this can't be happening. Is this perv sitting here watching my.........

I calm myself down. I don't want to jump to conclusions. But I rationalize with myself that if he's still sitting there by the time Biggie's "Nasty Girl (The Remix)" comes blasting through my earphones, I may have to kick in the door, waving the four four. So I close my eyes and pray this man is not still sitting there. Luckily, as soon as I hear "I go...on and on and on and on and...." the geeky creepy dude is gone. THANK YOU LORD!!! I swear I didn't want to be the lone chocolate chip in the gym who then had to resort to violence because this creep was trying to get his jollies off by sneaking peaks under my gym shorts.

As Luther is bellowing 'A THOUSAND KISSES FROM YOU IN NEVAH TOOOO MUCH", my earbud pops out and the lady who's been working out next to me the entire time decides to try to strike up a conversation. Lady I don't come to the gym to socialize. I ain't got time for that! No I don't say that but I politely nod and pop my earbud back in just in time to hear my favorite part: "Who needs to go to work to hustle for anotha dollar/I'd rather be with you 'cause you make my heart scream and holla". SANG IT LUTHA!!! But yeah, I remember I need to get back to work to hustle for another dollar so I pick up the speed to get my 3 miles in.


I've never seen such a glorious number in my life. I am sweating like...well apparently like the governor in South Carolina who dipped out for 4 days to take his honey dip to Argentina and didn't even tell his wife or his kids that he wouldn't be there for Father's Day (Sidebar: As a future novelist, I doubt I could make this shit up! But I digress). I'm sweating but damn I feel good. I strip and hop in the shower damn near about to whistle. That's how good I feel. I jump out the shower, wrap two towels around me (clearly these itty bitty towels are made for itty bitty chicks with itty bitty bootays, hence my need for 2....or 3), and strut over to my locker. Adjacent to my locker is a station of hair dryers for the gym patrons to use. I've seen some disgusting things done with those hair dryers but that's another story for another day. The same woman who tried to engage me in conversation is there drying her hair. I scoot past her and begin the hurried process of drying off, lotioning up, and getting dressed. Now at home, the towel would drop to the floor the minute I was semi dry. However, at the gym, I like to be as covered up as possible when changing clothes. But at some point you have to be exposed.

So I bend over to pull my panties on, when I hear a southern drawl exclaim:

"Oh what a cute mole!"

Now this is something that only a select few know about me (until now) but I have a mole on my bootay. The location is irrelevant for the purpose of this blog just know its there. Needless to say(but I'll say it anyway..LOL), I. WAS. MORTIFIED. What the fuck do you say to that????!!!!!

I instantly shot up with panties pulled up higher than they really needed to be. I turned around and she was just blow drying her hair as if she had complimented me on my shoes. I turned back around, threw my clothes on and didn't even unbuckle my sandals to put them back on. I double checked my locker to make sure I didn't leave anything and BOLTED. I'd had enough of these fruitcakes to last me for the rest of the day (Come on, I live in New York, you know I'll encounter some more doozies tomorrow..LOL)

This looks like this is going to be OPERATION Dodge a Nut aka OPERATION Bangin' Beach Body aka OPERATION I Like to Wear as Little Clothing I Can Get Away With Without Having Some Unauthorized Nut Comment on My Mole.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Random in the Rain

About a month ago I wrote a sultry introspection about the sexiness of Rain. More than 30 days later, I'm ready to beat the crap out rain. Seriously. On Friday, a newscaster commented that it had rained 15 of the past 19 days in the month of June. That is 79% of the month of June, filled with waterlogged, I can't press my hair days. Now granted I was gone for about 5 of those 19 days but still. I understand in life a little rain must fall but sheesh, this is re-damn-diculous. I don't have enough rain clothes in my wardrobe and in June I don't plan on investing in rain gear either. Enough already. Its officially my FAVORITE season of the year and how does it greet me?? More freaking rain. I never realized how crappy weather affects my mood. Scratching Seattle as a possible place to live off of my list. As my Facebook status read the other day:

I can't stand the rain........against my stilettos.

ENOUGH ALREADY. And according to the forecast, more rain in the forecast here in NYC. Le sigh.

Despite Mother Nature forgetting to take her anti-depressants, and putting the sun on time-out, I had a fabulous weekend. Nothing grand but fab none the less. And almost completely random. Now that I think about it I've had 2 random, sketchy planned but great weekends back to back. I hope I didn't just jinx myself. LOL Last weekend, I spent time with out of town friends, the other members of the Fab 4 (my name for BFFs), partied, trooped out to Brooklyn for makeup and a cocktail named a Joygasm (soooo delish), and dinner convo with old and new friends. Oh and I can't forget the paparazzi shots.

LMAO. Good times indeed.

This weekend I trooped out to Queens for a potluck. Normally for these types of events I would cook. But the rain discouraged any culinary creativity (read: too lazy to shop in the rain). Instead, I picked up a couple of orders of Buffalo Wings from my favorite spot, and muddled through the puddles out to Queens. All I have to say about my public transportation ride to the borough of Queens is: sitting in traffic with hot smelling good Buffalo wings on your lap is not the business when people start looking at you like "hmmm, I could snuff this chick and eat whatever she has in them bags." LOL
It was all worth it when I arrived. I laughed until I thought I was going to have a heart attack. Literally. I was clutching my chest a la Fred G. Sanford. And the food?? The food was soooo yummy my inner chubby girl was EXCITED. I was so stuffed I didn't know how I was going to make it through the rest of the evening for my date.

I had a date. With Baskin Robbins.

So Sunday, since my dad lives in Tennessee, all I had to do was call to wish him a Happy Father's Day. I'd spoken to him the day before because I saw a Mustang parked by my apartment and then saw a Mustang parked near where my friend lives in Queens. My dad is a Mustang Fiend. He met my mom in a mustang. He met my stepmom in a Mustang. He wants all of his children to own Mustangs (only one does). He currently owns either 2 or 3 Mustangs. He goes to an annual convention for Mustang nuts. I told you - a FIEND. LOL So, I snapped a pic of the second Mustang and sent him a text asking "Are you following me?" LOL He laughed. I laughed. And he urged me to come to visit. Awww my daddy misses me. I think I'll look into visiting for his birthday.

Since I couldn't be with one parent on the holiday designated for him, I spent the day with the other half of my genetic makeup. After making brunch for my mom, she and I decided to take my cousin out for Father's Day since he was in town with his wife and their 2 sons. With my mom's dad deceased and my dad over a thousand miles away, we couldn't remember the last time we did anything on Father's Day. So my mom, my aunt, my cousin, his wife, the 2 most adorable boys ages 4 1/2 and 1 1/2,and I went to a local chain restaurant known for their Texas size drinks. What?? Did you think I was treating all these folks to dinner at the Four Seasons??? Sheeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiittt! LOL

Can I just say I can't remember a time spent with my immediate family that was so pleasant?? We genuinely had a good time. The boys kept us entertained. Between the 4 year old, finding no napkin, deciding to wipe his BBQ sauce covered hands on his shirt with a shrug and the almost 2 year old flirting with every female under the age of 10 in the place (with a chicken bone situated in his mouth like a toothpick), we laughed until tears came out of our eyes. Their was no dog to kill me. No contention over old family shit. Just family coming together and having fun. It was so random it was perfectly orchestrated.

Over the past 2 weekends, a lot of rain has fallen in New York City. But leave it to my friends and family to brighten my days in unexpected, random ways. Its these pockets of sunshine that keep me going. And keep me from beating the crap out of rain.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

This is for my homies....

During my Vegas Recuperation Week, I lost a friend. Don’t worry. Not in the dearly departed “this is for my homies” way; more so in the “you pissed me off so we can't play together no more” kind of way. While I don’t care to dwell on the drama of it all (not even here on my blog), there are a few things I’ve learned about me in the process.

For one, if someone’s view of me is so far removed from the person I strive to be, there is no reason for us to be friends. Not to say I’m a slice of walking perfection. I recognize my faults and own up to my shortcomings. But when the picture someone paints of me is so……lame, I have to remove myself from the situation. Seriously, why would that person even want to be friends with someone they regard so poorly?? If you thought a friend of yours had the attributes of say….a serial killer, would you still be friends with them??? Further more what's more disturbing: the fact that you would allow your mind to even consider remotely that your friend - someone you allow into your life- is a serial killer or that you are indeed friends with someone who has the propensity for serial killing??

For the record I wish this "friend" (scratch that person) no ill will. The memories shared over the years will be treasured. It’s unfortunate it came to this parting in this way but as my Guy Guru pointed out: “Sometimes you have to clear your roster in order to make room on the bench.” or some shit like that. Y’all know I’m fuzzy on sports analogies. Still doesn’t make me a serial killer, maybe a cereal killer though.

That’s all.

Sidebar: I would post the video of the song I referenced above but its so damn depressing. If you really want to see it, youtube it. ( I think I just made youtube a verb. like google. hahahahaha)

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Not so happy hour

I needed a week to recuperate. Vegas was that great. If you haven’t been, GO!!!!
I have a blog about my trip but I really need the photos (well the photos I can actually post without ruining my chances of ever running for public office….hahahahaha). However, Carrie B. and my camera seem to be behaving worse than the NY State Senate. I’m hoping these 2 will settle their differences soon so I can download my pictures and share.

In the meantime I have a bunch of little blogs I wish to post. Little stories or observations I’ve made. Sometimes I have a tendency to be overly verbose and I’m trying to streamline my thoughts.

Friday Night.

I went to happy hour with my good buddy Willie Burger (blog name and my personal nickname for him in life…hahaha). He travels a lot for work and recently decided NOT to be my neighbor (traitor) so we haven’t caught up in a while. While sitting at the bar of an establishment with a colorful name in NY’s Greenwich Village, we were annoyingly entertained by a very loud, very drunk (most likely high on something else) group of folks. They tried to engage us in their foolishness but we wanted noooo parts of that. They were annoying as hell and while yes it was a bar, obnoxious didn’t have to be on the bar tab. The foolishness was the least of my worries when “Happy Hour” morphed into “True Confessions”. The ringleader of the fooltastic shenanigans was grinding her booty on a dude she was with. She leans on the back of my barstool while still wiggling booty on dude to say:

Ooooh I know I shouldn’t be dancing on my cousin like this but umph look at him. He just got back from Iraq and he’s going back in a couple of weeks. We just umph showing him a good time. But damn look at him. Oooh yeah he’s going to be filet mignon tonight.

CHECK PLEASE! Almost instantly, my ears hurt, my eyes hurt, and that nice tingly alcohol induced feeling was gone. Talk about instant sobriety. By far that is the nastiest thing I have heard and witnessed. For the record, she and her cousin were getting it in like they were in some dark corner in a club. Before she revealed their shared genetic makeup, I kinda assumed she was giving the dude the business on the dance floor because she was going to give him the business in the bedroom (or wherever) later. But once she revealed her family ties with the person who was smacking her ass I was D-O-N-E. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. And the chick tried to hug me when I left. Heffa please.

Where's Dave Chapelle when I need him??? This is a perfect example of "When Keeping it Real Goes Wrong". She didn't need to tell me that her dance partner was her cousin. She didn't need to tell me he was going to be "filet mignon" which apparently means she was gonna give him the biz (I don't see the correlation between meat and sex acts but whatev). She didn't need to grunt and moan as she danced with him. It's "Happy Hour" damnit but unfortunately I left disgusted.

Sidebar: why do people talk like this chick talk to me???

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

Day Dreams of a Mind Traveler

I fell asleep that night with the balcony door open, allowing the crashing waves to be my lullaby. That is the most peaceful sleep I’ve had in a long time. (considering buying one of those nature CDs to play at night. yeah not so much. LOL). As I snuggled my comforter, I dreamt. Dreams of the old couple and me turning into them. Snapshots of playing in the sand, and feelings of contentment paraded through my dreams.

The next morning, I awoke around 7 am. I sat up in bed and smiled. The sun was playing peek-a-boo with passing clouds and I popped right out of bed. Nothing like a peaceful night’s rest to jumpstart my day. Careful not to wake my sisters, I grabbed a swimsuit out of my suitcase, washed and brushed the essentials, shimmied into said suit, scribbled a note, and bounced. I headed down to the lower level to go sit on the beach. I’ve always wanted to just sit by on the beach as morning yawns and stretches to begin its day.

On my way to the beach I walked by the outdoor cafĂ© of the restaurant. Other early risers were already munching on muffins, and waffles and omelets (Oh my!). In my haste to get to the beach I dropped my always present notebook, and everything else in my hands. (Why was I walking around with my cell phone in hand and not in bag, I’ll never know).

“I got it! I got it!”

I swear she had to be no more than 4. She ran over from her table and squatted down to help me gather my stuff with one hand, while she held firmly onto her croissant. I looked up for a parent before somebody tried to have me arrested for kidnapping this adorable lil one. I made eye contact with a woman about my age and got the universal “its okay - I won’t have you arrested” head nod and hand wave.

“Aww thank you sweetheart! You are so helpful.” (I have a habit of calling all kids sweetheart if they’re not misbehaving)

“I know. I saw you yesterday.” She informed me as we scoop everything back into my bag. (SIDEBAR: I keep way too much change at the bottom of every bag)

“You did?? Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh. Your hair is like minez. I remember.”

With her spirally curls all over the place (hers were way cuter than minez), I could kind of see where she got that from.

“Wow. You have a lot of monies.”

“Well, for being so helpful, lets ask your mom if you can have some of this monies.”

Wide eyed, she said “Really?” like I just promised to take her to Disney World after breakfast.

As she grabbed my hand to walk me over to her mom, I couldn’t help but think: We look like mother and daughter. With her untamed hair and massively big expressive eyes, it was like looking at myself about 30 years ago. For the entire 10 steps to her mother's table, she chatted me up the entire way, talking a mile a minute. Yeah, she could definitely be mine. LOL

After chatting with her mom for a minute, and paying the lil one her reward for being so helpful, I continued my solitary journey down to the beach. As I sat there writing the above exchange, I listened intently to the music of the ocean. I can’t help it. I was awe-struck at how much that lil girl looked like me. I have pages and pages on what it means or doesn’t mean in my notebook. I wrote and wrote and wrote. Just poured it all out on paper. And then I stopped. I took it all in. The scenery. The sounds. The emotions. Then I opened my notebook and wrote a simple phrase on a blank page before snapping it shut.

“You’re ready.”

And I let my mind travel on that for the rest of my trip.

Butterfly note: by the time many of you read this (i've seen the stats, more morning hits...LOL), I will be en route for my second vacation in as many weeks. This time, I'm heading West to Vegas. My first trip there. I'm sure I'll have lots to tell. Not sure if I'll have permission to tell it though. LOL