Sometimes, all you can do is nothing. Am I right?????*
PREACH!
*Dear god, I hope I'm right, or else I'm on a one-way, downhill road to nowhere.
Showing posts with label someecards.com. Show all posts
Showing posts with label someecards.com. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Programming
Hey gang. It’s 9:34 am, and I’ve already been on the plantation for 90 minutes. Hell, I’ve already been up for over THREE HOURS. And in that time I’ve exercised (and I don’t mean my demons!), showered, ate oatmeal and watched my morning progrums, AND read all the work emails sent over the holiday break. 2011’s gonna be my year, I tell ya!
Ugh, okay, I can’t keep this energy up. Let’s be real: Yes, I did all of the aforementioned things, but only because I was dreading coming to work. I was walking down the subway platform like it was the green mile, and got in an hour before everyone just so I could get acclimated before all of the "How was your vacation?!" talk started. The three unplanned days in Detroit (and sharing a bed with mom) put a real damper on things, and the hullabaloo of New Year’s left little sleeping opportunities this weekend.
Despite my fatigue and job bitterness, however, I am ready to make 2011 the Year of the Blacktress (I’ve got the Chinese government on line 1, hoping it’s not too late to make the change). I started off NYE with a piece on The Hairpin, which is the beginning of my crossover success (leave a comment to help kickstart the blacktress whisper campaign!). The article put me in touch with another strong black woman who has a Jewboo, and now we’re internet besties.
I found a $100 bill on the ground in the early hours of 2011, and then kicked off the second day of the new year with a meeting with three ladies to start writing a sketch show! They are young, gifted, and white, and I think we’ve really got the start of something good. We all have assignments for the week, we’re meeting on the regular, and we’re ready to kick ass and take names. Tonight is the first of four on-camera commercial acting classes, where I hope to learn how to land a national ad campaign and never have to work in this craphole again! I'm kinda nervous--I haven't been around actor-y actors in a while, and hope I’m not the only one without a BFA. I'm also imagining the two teachers as aged, gravelly voiced, take-no-prisoners Hollywood types, who gesture with their cigarettes, tapping ash on you when you fail. They’ll say things like, "You're gayer than Rock Hudson on a telephone! Now sell me that face cream and MAKE ME WANT IT!!!”
I’ve got my hair did, contacts ready, and having been practicing my soothing, news-anchor voice while saying things like, “side effects may include constipation, explosive diarrhea, low self-esteem, and dry mouth.” We’ll see how it goes—I’ll definitely give you an update.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Friday (Lack of) Focus
Hey y'all,
I'm a total bum today. I got all of 5 hours of sleep, after a night that was a mixture of shock, awe, and aaawwww. There were laughter, tears, and plenty of self-loathing. Let me explain:
So, Jewboo and I hadn't seen each other since Sunday, which ended in a terrible fight (basically, I'm a mentally unstable biatch--think Halle Berry in Introducing Dorothy Dandridge). I was seriously in the dog house, and after some brief phone chats during the week--and more than one visit to the Italian restaurant next to my job for eggplant parmesan sandwiches (food = love)--I was scared I was on relationship probation.
I was so scared, in fact, that I was nervous to see him. Add to that the fact that I was doing a set that night, and I had more butterfly in my stomach than Mariah Carey's 15th album. We met up around 6:30pm, and parted after seeing a mutual friend's show. The plan was for him to come stay at my place after my show--yay! Jewboo sleepover on a weeknight!
We held hands during the show, and I felt heartened. I went to my set downtown and in walked BCB, who was visiting from Sydney town--and she brought a Hollywood agent TO SEE ME!!
Seriously. She talked me up and dragged him downtown! He represents many famous actors and produces films--they met on a set where she was the stylist. He was really nice and thought I was funny, and even quoted one of my jokes back to me later in the evening!! I was having a total Sally Field moment.
The set went well, but the club was sparsely populated. I had a good time, though, and stayed afterwards to schmooze with the agent (obvi--gotta work it). I ended up staying out a bit too long, and jumped in a cab so that Jewboo wouldn't be waiting.
At 11:45 pm, while sitting in traffic on the West Side Highway and damn-near hyperventilating, I got a text from Jewboo. "I'm here, where are you?"
I was on Little West 12th street. For those of you outside of NYC, I live approximately 135 blocks away from 12th Street. We had quite a ways to go. For those of you not on the east coast or Midwest, it's currently 23 degrees in New York City. Needless to say, if I wasn't in the dog house already, I was certainly in it now.
I was in the cab freaking out--so much so that the taxi driver closed the partition to separate himself from the awkwardness. When we finally arrived at my place 20 minutes later, Jewboo limped up the block. He had gone to wait in the subway station, and his feet were so cold that they hurt. I tried not to make it about me--you know, looking to him to tell me it was okay. After all, it wasn't.
I simply opened the door, went up to get a hot bath going, and mellowed out.
You know how I know I want to marry him? He just looked at me as he sat on the bed and said, "I'm not mad. I'm just cold." And he meant it. And the fact is, if it had been me, he would have been dead to me. Like, done and done. The fact that he's so patient and understanding is a god send. I can't wait for him to put a ring on it.
Of course, I can't say this. So, instead, I made him an ecard:
They say an e-card is worth a thousand words. Is that true even when you have an 80-character limit?
I'm a total bum today. I got all of 5 hours of sleep, after a night that was a mixture of shock, awe, and aaawwww. There were laughter, tears, and plenty of self-loathing. Let me explain:
So, Jewboo and I hadn't seen each other since Sunday, which ended in a terrible fight (basically, I'm a mentally unstable biatch--think Halle Berry in Introducing Dorothy Dandridge). I was seriously in the dog house, and after some brief phone chats during the week--and more than one visit to the Italian restaurant next to my job for eggplant parmesan sandwiches (food = love)--I was scared I was on relationship probation.
I was so scared, in fact, that I was nervous to see him. Add to that the fact that I was doing a set that night, and I had more butterfly in my stomach than Mariah Carey's 15th album. We met up around 6:30pm, and parted after seeing a mutual friend's show. The plan was for him to come stay at my place after my show--yay! Jewboo sleepover on a weeknight!
We held hands during the show, and I felt heartened. I went to my set downtown and in walked BCB, who was visiting from Sydney town--and she brought a Hollywood agent TO SEE ME!!
Seriously. She talked me up and dragged him downtown! He represents many famous actors and produces films--they met on a set where she was the stylist. He was really nice and thought I was funny, and even quoted one of my jokes back to me later in the evening!! I was having a total Sally Field moment.
The set went well, but the club was sparsely populated. I had a good time, though, and stayed afterwards to schmooze with the agent (obvi--gotta work it). I ended up staying out a bit too long, and jumped in a cab so that Jewboo wouldn't be waiting.
At 11:45 pm, while sitting in traffic on the West Side Highway and damn-near hyperventilating, I got a text from Jewboo. "I'm here, where are you?"
I was on Little West 12th street. For those of you outside of NYC, I live approximately 135 blocks away from 12th Street. We had quite a ways to go. For those of you not on the east coast or Midwest, it's currently 23 degrees in New York City. Needless to say, if I wasn't in the dog house already, I was certainly in it now.
I was in the cab freaking out--so much so that the taxi driver closed the partition to separate himself from the awkwardness. When we finally arrived at my place 20 minutes later, Jewboo limped up the block. He had gone to wait in the subway station, and his feet were so cold that they hurt. I tried not to make it about me--you know, looking to him to tell me it was okay. After all, it wasn't.
I simply opened the door, went up to get a hot bath going, and mellowed out.
You know how I know I want to marry him? He just looked at me as he sat on the bed and said, "I'm not mad. I'm just cold." And he meant it. And the fact is, if it had been me, he would have been dead to me. Like, done and done. The fact that he's so patient and understanding is a god send. I can't wait for him to put a ring on it.
Of course, I can't say this. So, instead, I made him an ecard:
They say an e-card is worth a thousand words. Is that true even when you have an 80-character limit?
Friday, December 10, 2010
Step Up 4 Realz
Happy Friday, Y’alls!
So, this past Tuesday was my berfday, and I am starting to feel the effects of another year. I had a decent day, primarily because I didn’t go to work. I woke up early, did some exercise, went to get my hair did, met mamadukes for lunch, and then we went to get our nails and toes done (like rapper Nelly, I too am a sucker for cornrows and manicured toes). I planned to share my beautification with Jewboo, with whom I was going to see Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson on the great Broadway! We were going with a really cute couple, Steven and Dan. Steven and I share the same bday, and he’s one of those ethnically ambiguous-looking Jews, which I heart (I love when people come up to them speaking Spanish).
The show was good (primarily because it starred Jeff Hiller, my spirit animal--who was kind enough to take us onto the set post-show!), but I was less then enthused by the time the lights went down. Before meeting up with Steven and Dan, Jewboo gave me my birthday present. He had been excited about it for several weeks, priding himself on ordering it early. Although I’d kept my excitement at a minimum, it kept all my blackting skills to act gracious when I unwrapped the package.
He’d bought me a copy of The Walking Dead Compendium. You know, the first 48 issues of the comic book--oh, I’m sorry, graphic novel--on which the series is based. I do love me some zombies, and I’ve been really into the tv show, so I sorta get where he was coming from with the gift idea.
Sorta.
The thing is, I do not like comic books. I have had no penchant for picture books since the age of 7. I have nothing against them, and I am aware that many adults read them, and they’ve apparently grown quite sophisticated and complex since Sojourner was a young truth-teller. Since dating Jewboo I have made more than a few trips to Midtown Comics so he could scope out the latest releases, and I found myself able to overlook the scent of Dr. Pepper and low self esteem and really see the patrons around me. They’re people, too.
But I simply don’t get comics. I never know what order in which I’m supposed to read the talk bubbles, and I get all confused. I just don’t know if I’m a visual thinker, because I see the pictures, and it’s like, “Ok. I guess that means he’s walking far.” It just doesn’t resonate.
I have often said this, which is why a 20-pound, 350 page comic as a gift was not only shocking, but mildly worrisome. Does he not know who I am? It’s not even that I wanted any particular thing. I would have greatly appreciated a free hot meal and a cupcake. I mean, I know he knows me, because he printed out and taped the following e-card to the front of the box:
(Yeah, we’ve been through a lot.)
So why the comic, y’all? Of course, it’s not even about the gift. I realized that I’ve been holding on to a lot of residual resentment, and when he couldn’t even Step Up for my birthday, it all came out. He got a job at Columbia, only 20 minutes away from where I live, and yet he hasn’t spent the night at my home since 10/23, often using the excuse that he doesn’t “have his stuff.”
Okay, now I get that we all have our routines, but as I stood in the drugstore buying products for him after 9 months of dating, I wondered if I should even be doing this. If he wants to stay with me, shouldn’t he get his own products?
I live alone, in a very nice place, with tons of on-demand channels, and yet I trek to Greenpoint more often than a Polish immigrant trying to get her paperwork translated. The only time he’s come over to my place since 10/23 is when he wanted to use my kitchen to shoot a web video. He, along with 6 other folks came over to my house on a Sunday night, took twice as long as was scheduled, and when he was leaving, all he had to say was “thanks,” after telling me that he had been upset with me for telling them to utilize the extras sooner rather than later.
I get that he’s busy, and I’ve been trying to be supportive, but as it gets colder and I try to walk the 20 minutes from the train to his house as quickly as possible, with every step I wonder why Jewboo won’t Step Up 2 Da Streets (of Harlem). Add to that the fact that I spent 8 months paying for things and have yet to be treated to anything since he got a job, and, you know, blacktress was about to get ghetto up in here.
So, after talking to everyone but him, we met for dinner and had a talk last night. I know he loves me, and perhaps I haven’t been as clear as I think (because it seems to obvious to me what he should do, I almost feel crazy having to break it down). I explained that I was disappointed in his lack of initiative, and had been trying not to fight, but was just not living up to my TRUTH. I told him that I understand he’s a procrastinator and has trouble making plans, but I needed him to Step Up 3-D —you feel me, ladies?
He took it well, and had a good think while we ate. It helped that I not only made a list of grievances, but the fancy-ass face wash I had to order online for him had arrived that day, and I had the UPS package in my purse. When he asked what it was, I quickly displayed my effort/his products. I had also visited good ol' Wikipedia and looked up the definition of “empiricism,” because my former-philosophy-professor of a Jewboo often responds to my emotional reactions with, “I just don’t think like that, because I’m an empirical guy.” So, with a firm definition of empiricism as a theory of knowledge which asserts the idea that knowledge arises via sense experience; the belief theories must be tested against observations of the natural world, rather than resting solely on a priori reasoning, intuition, or revelation, I explained not simply the way things made me feel, but the observations of his actions in the "natural world" of our REALationship.
I had to go deep into the male mind for this one, y'all. It required internet-study.
I explained the facts, and basically asked him if he felt my grievances were out of line. Honestly, if you can’t stand Sojourner’s truths, get out of the relationship kitchen!
He said they weren’t, and really felt bad about some behaviors. He also came at me with some of my own truths, noting that I tend to plan things to avoid disappointment, but as a result don’t give him the opportunity to take the reigns. So he hangs back, and then I feel like he’s not active. He had me there, y'all--with default emotions of sadness, anger, and fear, I can't help by try to control everything in an attempt to avoid those emotions. I love a man who can dish up a steaming hot bowl of TRUTH.
Okay, I’m done now. How y’all doing?
So, this past Tuesday was my berfday, and I am starting to feel the effects of another year. I had a decent day, primarily because I didn’t go to work. I woke up early, did some exercise, went to get my hair did, met mamadukes for lunch, and then we went to get our nails and toes done (like rapper Nelly, I too am a sucker for cornrows and manicured toes). I planned to share my beautification with Jewboo, with whom I was going to see Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson on the great Broadway! We were going with a really cute couple, Steven and Dan. Steven and I share the same bday, and he’s one of those ethnically ambiguous-looking Jews, which I heart (I love when people come up to them speaking Spanish).
The show was good (primarily because it starred Jeff Hiller, my spirit animal--who was kind enough to take us onto the set post-show!), but I was less then enthused by the time the lights went down. Before meeting up with Steven and Dan, Jewboo gave me my birthday present. He had been excited about it for several weeks, priding himself on ordering it early. Although I’d kept my excitement at a minimum, it kept all my blackting skills to act gracious when I unwrapped the package.
He’d bought me a copy of The Walking Dead Compendium. You know, the first 48 issues of the comic book--oh, I’m sorry, graphic novel--on which the series is based. I do love me some zombies, and I’ve been really into the tv show, so I sorta get where he was coming from with the gift idea.
Sorta.
The thing is, I do not like comic books. I have had no penchant for picture books since the age of 7. I have nothing against them, and I am aware that many adults read them, and they’ve apparently grown quite sophisticated and complex since Sojourner was a young truth-teller. Since dating Jewboo I have made more than a few trips to Midtown Comics so he could scope out the latest releases, and I found myself able to overlook the scent of Dr. Pepper and low self esteem and really see the patrons around me. They’re people, too.
But I simply don’t get comics. I never know what order in which I’m supposed to read the talk bubbles, and I get all confused. I just don’t know if I’m a visual thinker, because I see the pictures, and it’s like, “Ok. I guess that means he’s walking far.” It just doesn’t resonate.
I have often said this, which is why a 20-pound, 350 page comic as a gift was not only shocking, but mildly worrisome. Does he not know who I am? It’s not even that I wanted any particular thing. I would have greatly appreciated a free hot meal and a cupcake. I mean, I know he knows me, because he printed out and taped the following e-card to the front of the box:
(Yeah, we’ve been through a lot.)So why the comic, y’all? Of course, it’s not even about the gift. I realized that I’ve been holding on to a lot of residual resentment, and when he couldn’t even Step Up for my birthday, it all came out. He got a job at Columbia, only 20 minutes away from where I live, and yet he hasn’t spent the night at my home since 10/23, often using the excuse that he doesn’t “have his stuff.”
Okay, now I get that we all have our routines, but as I stood in the drugstore buying products for him after 9 months of dating, I wondered if I should even be doing this. If he wants to stay with me, shouldn’t he get his own products?
I live alone, in a very nice place, with tons of on-demand channels, and yet I trek to Greenpoint more often than a Polish immigrant trying to get her paperwork translated. The only time he’s come over to my place since 10/23 is when he wanted to use my kitchen to shoot a web video. He, along with 6 other folks came over to my house on a Sunday night, took twice as long as was scheduled, and when he was leaving, all he had to say was “thanks,” after telling me that he had been upset with me for telling them to utilize the extras sooner rather than later.
I get that he’s busy, and I’ve been trying to be supportive, but as it gets colder and I try to walk the 20 minutes from the train to his house as quickly as possible, with every step I wonder why Jewboo won’t Step Up 2 Da Streets (of Harlem). Add to that the fact that I spent 8 months paying for things and have yet to be treated to anything since he got a job, and, you know, blacktress was about to get ghetto up in here.
So, after talking to everyone but him, we met for dinner and had a talk last night. I know he loves me, and perhaps I haven’t been as clear as I think (because it seems to obvious to me what he should do, I almost feel crazy having to break it down). I explained that I was disappointed in his lack of initiative, and had been trying not to fight, but was just not living up to my TRUTH. I told him that I understand he’s a procrastinator and has trouble making plans, but I needed him to Step Up 3-D —you feel me, ladies?
He took it well, and had a good think while we ate. It helped that I not only made a list of grievances, but the fancy-ass face wash I had to order online for him had arrived that day, and I had the UPS package in my purse. When he asked what it was, I quickly displayed my effort/his products. I had also visited good ol' Wikipedia and looked up the definition of “empiricism,” because my former-philosophy-professor of a Jewboo often responds to my emotional reactions with, “I just don’t think like that, because I’m an empirical guy.” So, with a firm definition of empiricism as a theory of knowledge which asserts the idea that knowledge arises via sense experience; the belief theories must be tested against observations of the natural world, rather than resting solely on a priori reasoning, intuition, or revelation, I explained not simply the way things made me feel, but the observations of his actions in the "natural world" of our REALationship.
I had to go deep into the male mind for this one, y'all. It required internet-study.
I explained the facts, and basically asked him if he felt my grievances were out of line. Honestly, if you can’t stand Sojourner’s truths, get out of the relationship kitchen!
He said they weren’t, and really felt bad about some behaviors. He also came at me with some of my own truths, noting that I tend to plan things to avoid disappointment, but as a result don’t give him the opportunity to take the reigns. So he hangs back, and then I feel like he’s not active. He had me there, y'all--with default emotions of sadness, anger, and fear, I can't help by try to control everything in an attempt to avoid those emotions. I love a man who can dish up a steaming hot bowl of TRUTH.
Okay, I’m done now. How y’all doing?
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
It's Been A Long Time Coming.....
I think my favorite part would have to be Malia's pre-inauguration pep talk. Here's a quote from the Prez, found on This Week With Barack Obama:
For Barack Obama's historic Inaugural Address:
"And then we go and look at...Lincoln's second inaugural'' etched on the wall of the memorial, Obama said, recounting his daughters' remarks to him. "And Sasha looks up, and she says, 'Boy, that's a long speech. Do you have to give one of those?' I said, 'Actually, that one's pretty short. Mine may even be a little longer.'
"At which point, then Malia turns to me and says, 'First African-American president. Better be good.''
Oh, Malia, it was SOOOO GOOD!!! While I wished I could have been at home--or, even better, in DC--watching it bleary-eyed at 4am, then again at the Democrats Abroad inauguration party, I felt the same chills I felt on election night.
So, um, Michelle, I'm sending in my application to be the girls' governess. I've got the reading list all set, and have no problem picking up dog poop.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Nothing's Right, I'm SCORNED
Um, guys, I can't stop making e-cards. If you missed the first 4 in the series, scroll down to the post titled "OURecards.com."
My name is Sojourner, and I am a Photoshop addict.
Or, to quote the great poet Natalie Imbruglia,
nothing's right, i'm scorned...
i'm all out of faith
this is how i DEAL
i'm sitting here at work
and I'm blogging about pain....
Here are the latest e-cards:
Wait, is this one too personal????
OURecards.com
For those of you who follow the blacktress blog religiously, you already know from previous posts that I’m really into the website someecards.com. They have an ecard for almost every occasion, from April Fool’s Day to Black History Month, and for any situation. And I love their tag line: for when you care enough to hit send. SOO TRUE!
I’ve taken to sending them to friends for any and no reason, just to share the laughter and the joy. They’ve reciprocated, creating a lovely chain of goodness. But today, when discussing the e-card possibilities with Katie Walsh, we realized someecards.com was missing a very important category: “rejection.” While they have a category devoted to break ups, they’ve left out the all important moment when you really need to send an ecard. That is, after you’ve only gone on a few dates or had a one-night stand with someone who then acts like you don’t exist. How do you handle this rage? How can you get back at your oppressor electronically?
Well, Katie and I put our heads together and came up with our very own set of ecards: ScornedWomanEcards (we're hoping to get it as a .org, or maybe even .gov--perhaps sponsored by Michelle Obama???). Until we get our website up and running, you can save the images below and send them to the foes and hos that have done you wrong. I think the cards will say far more than your heart ever could.
I’ve taken to sending them to friends for any and no reason, just to share the laughter and the joy. They’ve reciprocated, creating a lovely chain of goodness. But today, when discussing the e-card possibilities with Katie Walsh, we realized someecards.com was missing a very important category: “rejection.” While they have a category devoted to break ups, they’ve left out the all important moment when you really need to send an ecard. That is, after you’ve only gone on a few dates or had a one-night stand with someone who then acts like you don’t exist. How do you handle this rage? How can you get back at your oppressor electronically?
Well, Katie and I put our heads together and came up with our very own set of ecards: ScornedWomanEcards (we're hoping to get it as a .org, or maybe even .gov--perhaps sponsored by Michelle Obama???). Until we get our website up and running, you can save the images below and send them to the foes and hos that have done you wrong. I think the cards will say far more than your heart ever could.
Monday, February 11, 2008
On Hiatus--don't hate us!
Readers,I apologize for my lack of posting. I am not living up to my word of a new post a day. I, Sojourner, am not being TRUTHful. Please forgive this failure as I rebuild in the wake of the Photographer (more on that later).
For now, I leave you this e-card. It's something I've been saying all along.
And it reminds me of my estranged father.
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