That's a lyric from a song by Craig David.
But that's not the point of this post.
If you notice, about a week ago I added a new feature: "follow this blog." I'm quite excited to see that I now have 10 followers, as I was unsure if anyone would end up flocking to the blacktress. However, my intense narcissism and God complex requires I have at least 12 followers, so I can call them apostles. As follower you'll say aBREAST of the blacktress's latest bloggery, which must be a good time. Since I'm not a daily pop-culture blogger, clicking the "follow this blog" on blogger lets you know when to spend your workday procrastinating, allowing you to procrastinate in an efficient manner.
Efficient procrastination?! WTF, blacktress?! you're thinking.
I just blew your mind, didn't I?
Speaking of followers, elite gay visionary/music reviewer/person who told me to start a blog in the first place--JJSiii--is up for the role of Queerty's music reviewer. You should definitely read his review (he's in the top 5!) and the other 4, then vote for him. Quite frankly, he loves music, isn't condescending or pretentious, and supports a blacktress-what better reviewer for a gay website?!
Holla at it and vote for him here.
xoxo,
blacktress with a god complex
Friday, February 20, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Apparently You CAN Silence Sojo....
I'm pissed, y'all.
I went in to work today and during a total lull I went to put up a post about my shenanigans the previous night. Much to my dismay and horror, I saw that the IT bitches have BLOCKED ACCESS TO MY BLOG!
The blacktress has been blacklisted. Hell to the no!
This ship is no longer cruisey--not cruisey at all. Thank god this is only a two-week gig.
If I'd had access to my diary earlier today, I would have recorded the following:
1. I am currently drinking hot chocolate out of a green mug with a picture of a sheep on it that says "Thinking of Ew." I remember why I hate office life.
2. One of my main tasks is to input names into the ships' security systems, so deliveries can be made and people can hop off and on. On today's list was 'McCarthy, Andrew." Is the Pretty in Pink hottie working for cruise ships now?! I wondered as I plugged him into the database. I then spent a large portion of the morning wondering what Andrew McCarthy would do on a cruise ship. Does he perform scenes from the film on the Lido Deck after bocce tourneys?
3. Today at work, I got a call from drag queen Portia Turbo, who I worked for during Fair Day. The call went something like this:
"Sojourner, gorgeous, it's Portia Turbo, how are you?"
"Great, how are you?"
"Good. Look, sweetheart, we love you, and we want you to work as a Gaydar Girl at the Mardi Gras Harbour Party next Sunday. Can you do it?"
"Will Verushka Darling be there?"
"Of course, gorgeous!"
"I'm there!"
Guys, I have been requested to act as a Gaydar Girl for the Harbour Party. Am I on my way to becoming a gay icon? This is everything I've ever wanted! What if I become a famous blacktress, but I'm only famous in Australia--then I can come home to NYC when I want to 'get away from it all.' Can you imagine?!
See, these are the things I would have shared in real time if only the massa of the ship had let me. What really pisses me off is that someone sitting near me listens to the radio all day. And we're not talking smooth Mozart sounds. Before 11am I heard MGMT's 'Electric Feel' and 'Don't Stop the Music' by Ri-Ri. I may as well have been in the club with such distracting grooves! How is it okay to listen to fun pop hits that could distract other colleagues but not okay to check email and update blogs during ridiculously long stretches of boredom?! Shit, I wrote most of this on a series of post-its on my desk--they can't make me work. You don't own me!
Sidenote: The best part about the pop music is that it can only be coming from one of two people: Jessica, a young girl who has yet to say hello to me; or Paul, who is known as 'Boots' (as in "Puss in")--a middle-aged man who regularly leaves at 3pm and doesn't say much.
I think it's him.
On an up-note, me and the boss-lady actually chit-chatted today. Turns out my kewpie doll is only 22 years young and has never left her home country. She also revealed that she "doesn't know what she's doing," which makes a lot of sense, since she can't quite delegate. When I complete basic tasks quickly and efficiently, she tries to bolster my self esteem with such phrases as "You're doing a good job!" and "Well done for thinking ahead!"
Um, sweetie, I've been reading on my own since I was 4. Don't get it twisted.
She's nice, though, and as far as "bosses" go, she causes no stress. If only I could get some fucking internet access! Don't they know I'm a future gay icon?!
I went in to work today and during a total lull I went to put up a post about my shenanigans the previous night. Much to my dismay and horror, I saw that the IT bitches have BLOCKED ACCESS TO MY BLOG!
The blacktress has been blacklisted. Hell to the no!
This ship is no longer cruisey--not cruisey at all. Thank god this is only a two-week gig.
If I'd had access to my diary earlier today, I would have recorded the following:
1. I am currently drinking hot chocolate out of a green mug with a picture of a sheep on it that says "Thinking of Ew." I remember why I hate office life.
2. One of my main tasks is to input names into the ships' security systems, so deliveries can be made and people can hop off and on. On today's list was 'McCarthy, Andrew." Is the Pretty in Pink hottie working for cruise ships now?! I wondered as I plugged him into the database. I then spent a large portion of the morning wondering what Andrew McCarthy would do on a cruise ship. Does he perform scenes from the film on the Lido Deck after bocce tourneys?
Oh my god, I heart him.
3. Today at work, I got a call from drag queen Portia Turbo, who I worked for during Fair Day. The call went something like this:
"Sojourner, gorgeous, it's Portia Turbo, how are you?"
"Great, how are you?"
"Good. Look, sweetheart, we love you, and we want you to work as a Gaydar Girl at the Mardi Gras Harbour Party next Sunday. Can you do it?"
"Will Verushka Darling be there?"
"Of course, gorgeous!"
"I'm there!"
Guys, I have been requested to act as a Gaydar Girl for the Harbour Party. Am I on my way to becoming a gay icon? This is everything I've ever wanted! What if I become a famous blacktress, but I'm only famous in Australia--then I can come home to NYC when I want to 'get away from it all.' Can you imagine?!
See, these are the things I would have shared in real time if only the massa of the ship had let me. What really pisses me off is that someone sitting near me listens to the radio all day. And we're not talking smooth Mozart sounds. Before 11am I heard MGMT's 'Electric Feel' and 'Don't Stop the Music' by Ri-Ri. I may as well have been in the club with such distracting grooves! How is it okay to listen to fun pop hits that could distract other colleagues but not okay to check email and update blogs during ridiculously long stretches of boredom?! Shit, I wrote most of this on a series of post-its on my desk--they can't make me work. You don't own me!
Sidenote: The best part about the pop music is that it can only be coming from one of two people: Jessica, a young girl who has yet to say hello to me; or Paul, who is known as 'Boots' (as in "Puss in")--a middle-aged man who regularly leaves at 3pm and doesn't say much.
I think it's him.
On an up-note, me and the boss-lady actually chit-chatted today. Turns out my kewpie doll is only 22 years young and has never left her home country. She also revealed that she "doesn't know what she's doing," which makes a lot of sense, since she can't quite delegate. When I complete basic tasks quickly and efficiently, she tries to bolster my self esteem with such phrases as "You're doing a good job!" and "Well done for thinking ahead!"
Um, sweetie, I've been reading on my own since I was 4. Don't get it twisted.
She's nice, though, and as far as "bosses" go, she causes no stress. If only I could get some fucking internet access! Don't they know I'm a future gay icon?!
Monday, February 16, 2009
The Boob Tube
Oh my god, just when I thought Australian TV was crap, it goes and surprises me like nothing else.
I'm at home now, trying to take my mind off the fact that Mr. Weasley has yet to respond to an email I sent three full days ago. I'm trying to silence the voices in my head that say, "see, this is why you'll die alone"-- which involves watching television.
Now, I'm normally a "Neighhbours" girl. I mean, it featured Natalie Imbruglia AND Kylie, for goodness sake--anyone who's anyone in Australia has been on this show. "Home and Away" is the other big soap, and it's based in Sydney, while "Neighbours" is based in Melbourne." The rivalry is very East Coast/West Coast rap.
Hardcore in every way.
I made a call early on, when I first saw "Neighbours" in England, and my allegiance has been unwavering.
Until now.
I was just watching the last few minutes of "Home and Away," as I waited for 'How I Met Your Mother'. I don't know what happened beforehand, but all the teens were in a tizzy over some list that some bitchy blonde girl wrote. Apparently, she wrote who was cute and who was not, which you know had everyone all upset. I don't know the characters names, but you know, pretty white kids with problems, no real difference. Basically, the bitchy blonde girl wrote that another bitchy blonde girl, "thinks she's hot." So BBG #2 went up to her and was like, "How could you say that about me?"
BBG #1 is all, "What do you mean?"
BBG #2 says, "I don't think I'm hot," all angry-like.
Then, in a total unforeseen turn, BBG #1 goes, "You don't? Well I do."
THEN GRABS THE GIRL AND KISSES HER!!!!
HOLLA AT TEEN LESBIAN KISSES BEFORE PRIMETIME!!
Guys, it was so amazing. Okay, to be fair, they totally cut away after she pulled her in, then showed the end of the kiss in a long shot, but still! It wasn't even 7:30pm. Tweens and teens were awake, and probably sitting down to dinner with "Hom(o) and Away" in the background! Why is Australia so cool? Is this almost as good as Degrassi?! I can't recall teen lesbian kisses on basic cable on the Northern Hemi. Can anyone jog my memory?
It almost makes me want to not leave, but then I remember I'm bored.
I'm at home now, trying to take my mind off the fact that Mr. Weasley has yet to respond to an email I sent three full days ago. I'm trying to silence the voices in my head that say, "see, this is why you'll die alone"-- which involves watching television.
Now, I'm normally a "Neighhbours" girl. I mean, it featured Natalie Imbruglia AND Kylie, for goodness sake--anyone who's anyone in Australia has been on this show. "Home and Away" is the other big soap, and it's based in Sydney, while "Neighbours" is based in Melbourne." The rivalry is very East Coast/West Coast rap.
Hardcore in every way.
I made a call early on, when I first saw "Neighbours" in England, and my allegiance has been unwavering.
Until now.
I was just watching the last few minutes of "Home and Away," as I waited for 'How I Met Your Mother'. I don't know what happened beforehand, but all the teens were in a tizzy over some list that some bitchy blonde girl wrote. Apparently, she wrote who was cute and who was not, which you know had everyone all upset. I don't know the characters names, but you know, pretty white kids with problems, no real difference. Basically, the bitchy blonde girl wrote that another bitchy blonde girl, "thinks she's hot." So BBG #2 went up to her and was like, "How could you say that about me?"
BBG #1 is all, "What do you mean?"
BBG #2 says, "I don't think I'm hot," all angry-like.
Then, in a total unforeseen turn, BBG #1 goes, "You don't? Well I do."
THEN GRABS THE GIRL AND KISSES HER!!!!
HOLLA AT TEEN LESBIAN KISSES BEFORE PRIMETIME!!
Guys, it was so amazing. Okay, to be fair, they totally cut away after she pulled her in, then showed the end of the kiss in a long shot, but still! It wasn't even 7:30pm. Tweens and teens were awake, and probably sitting down to dinner with "Hom(o) and Away" in the background! Why is Australia so cool? Is this almost as good as Degrassi?! I can't recall teen lesbian kisses on basic cable on the Northern Hemi. Can anyone jog my memory?
It almost makes me want to not leave, but then I remember I'm bored.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
You Can't Silence Sojo!
Mwaahahahahahaha.
Although I am unable to access gmail, I can get onto my blog.
Silly, silly slave—I mean, cruise—ship. They’ve underestimated how much I like talking about myself and my deep-seated need to share my emotions in a public format.
Today is my first full day. I got in at a quarter to 9, and was shocked and disappointed to find that everyone else was already here. I mean, it’s a Friday, guys? What happened to that laid back Aussie work ethic?! You work for a cruise line for goodness sakes—why aren’t you cruisey*?!
The day has gone relatively slowly, but after asking if I could be of assistance, I decided to use the down time to work on an article I’ve been procrastinating on for ages. I actually got it to a point that’s acceptable, and I’ve decided that the score is: THE MAN – 0, BLACKTRESS – 1.
After handling my own scandal I got down to handling the cruise ships’. This basically consists of sorting mail that passengers and crew will pick up when they arrive in Sydney, as well as scheduling doctor’s appointments and reserving hotels for crew between landing and embarking on their next voyage. Luckily, I have an excellent telephone voice, and had a great chat with a man at a certain hotel chain who didn’t speak much English. Every time he went to check something, instead of saying, “Please hold,” he would say, “Please may I hold you a moment?”
Yes. The answer that question is always yes.
My dear sweet Kewpie doll boss is very low-key, and always starts each task with, “Sojourner, when you get a moment, can you….?” Even if I’m sitting there picking a hangnail.
Um, yes, yes I can start that posthaste.
I guess I could start gearing up for the weekend, but the weather here is wretched! WTF, y’all?! It’s supposed to be summer time and the livin’ is supposed to be easy! It’s been 60 degrees, rainy and windy. In other words: it’s a cold mess. I’m tempted to just stay in tonight with a bottle of wine and some good eats, but then remembered that there’s nothing good to watch on TV, and that wine sometimes makes me cry—awkward! But it’s also really dreary and no one lives near me, so I’m not sure what to do. And it’s hard to look cute when you’re damp, you know?
Okay, better get back to this spreadsheet.
Good times!
For more on the concept of cruisiness, look here.
Although I am unable to access gmail, I can get onto my blog.
Silly, silly slave—I mean, cruise—ship. They’ve underestimated how much I like talking about myself and my deep-seated need to share my emotions in a public format.
Today is my first full day. I got in at a quarter to 9, and was shocked and disappointed to find that everyone else was already here. I mean, it’s a Friday, guys? What happened to that laid back Aussie work ethic?! You work for a cruise line for goodness sakes—why aren’t you cruisey*?!
The day has gone relatively slowly, but after asking if I could be of assistance, I decided to use the down time to work on an article I’ve been procrastinating on for ages. I actually got it to a point that’s acceptable, and I’ve decided that the score is: THE MAN – 0, BLACKTRESS – 1.
After handling my own scandal I got down to handling the cruise ships’. This basically consists of sorting mail that passengers and crew will pick up when they arrive in Sydney, as well as scheduling doctor’s appointments and reserving hotels for crew between landing and embarking on their next voyage. Luckily, I have an excellent telephone voice, and had a great chat with a man at a certain hotel chain who didn’t speak much English. Every time he went to check something, instead of saying, “Please hold,” he would say, “Please may I hold you a moment?”
Yes. The answer that question is always yes.
My dear sweet Kewpie doll boss is very low-key, and always starts each task with, “Sojourner, when you get a moment, can you….?” Even if I’m sitting there picking a hangnail.
Um, yes, yes I can start that posthaste.
I guess I could start gearing up for the weekend, but the weather here is wretched! WTF, y’all?! It’s supposed to be summer time and the livin’ is supposed to be easy! It’s been 60 degrees, rainy and windy. In other words: it’s a cold mess. I’m tempted to just stay in tonight with a bottle of wine and some good eats, but then remembered that there’s nothing good to watch on TV, and that wine sometimes makes me cry—awkward! But it’s also really dreary and no one lives near me, so I’m not sure what to do. And it’s hard to look cute when you’re damp, you know?
Okay, better get back to this spreadsheet.
Good times!
For more on the concept of cruisiness, look here.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Temporary Insanity
Blacktress' Log, Star Date 12 February 2009.
Yesterday I got a phone call from Oliver, from Escalibre, a temp agency I'd signed up with over a month ago. I had my initial interview with Oliver, a dreamy blonde Brit with a dry humour. Most of our 50-minute interview just involved cracking jokes and talking about my time in Sydney thus far.
After getting mad bored with no temp gigs showing up, I started stalking Oliver much in the manner of a schoolgirl who has just lost her virginity to an asshole jock. I called regularly, trying to sound breezy, but subtly pressuring him for any job offers. Like the cool cad he is, he would totally make a couple of funnies, get me all comfortable, then take an emotional scythe to my throat as he told me there were no jobs available.
I finally realized that I couldn't force him to love me--I mean, find me work. So I decided to play it cool. And it turns out that good things do come to those who wait. And it is darkest before the dawn, and all that other crap.
I got a call to come in and work for a prominent cruise ship company, which will remain nameless just in case someone on staff likes to Google him/her/hirself when no one's looking. Of course, when I was first told I'd be working for a cruiseline, my reaction was two fold:
1. Will I be performing great diva hits on the Lido deck nightly at 7pm? I'll do anything but Etta James, as she's liable to cut a blacktress.
2. Ship...ship...ship...why does that fill me with dread? Oh yeah--SLAVERY!!!
Where are you taking me, Oliver?!
Clearly I overreacted.
I got in today at 10:30 am, where I was greeted by a smiley HR woman, who found it funny that I didn't want to look at my ID photo before it was printed. I mean, hello, business casual and chunky sweater--what's there to see? Any way you slice it, it's a hot mess.
I was then handed over to Sarah, who doesn't look a day over 12. In fact, she looks like a kewpie doll.
Imagine this doll dressed in a cardigan and A-line skirt, and give her a ponytail. That's my boss.
Luckily, she's as sweet as she looks and today was pretty low-key, which was good. Of course being a member of the talented tenth, work was crazily easy, and I found myself wanting to check my email during a lull.
After typing in gmail.com, I was greeted with the most heinous image I have ever seen:
WTF?!
How the hell am I supposed to get through my day without gmail?! I got in at 10:45, had a 45-minute lunch, was practically kicked out at 5:15pm, and still got everything done that had piled up. Without the ability to procrastinate and psychoanalyze every letter of every email from Fred Weasley, I'm going to have to actually work. Quickly and efficiently.
Ew.
Then they'll realize I'm kind of bright and probably give me responsibilities or something.
This is not what I signed on for!
So, I'm calling out to you, readers. What can I do to procrastinate just enough that they don't want me to do extra things? Maybe I'll just stay up really late and go in so tired and lame that every task actually ends up taking 2 hours to complete.
Questions, comments, suggestions?
Yesterday I got a phone call from Oliver, from Escalibre, a temp agency I'd signed up with over a month ago. I had my initial interview with Oliver, a dreamy blonde Brit with a dry humour. Most of our 50-minute interview just involved cracking jokes and talking about my time in Sydney thus far.
After getting mad bored with no temp gigs showing up, I started stalking Oliver much in the manner of a schoolgirl who has just lost her virginity to an asshole jock. I called regularly, trying to sound breezy, but subtly pressuring him for any job offers. Like the cool cad he is, he would totally make a couple of funnies, get me all comfortable, then take an emotional scythe to my throat as he told me there were no jobs available.
I finally realized that I couldn't force him to love me--I mean, find me work. So I decided to play it cool. And it turns out that good things do come to those who wait. And it is darkest before the dawn, and all that other crap.
I got a call to come in and work for a prominent cruise ship company, which will remain nameless just in case someone on staff likes to Google him/her/hirself when no one's looking. Of course, when I was first told I'd be working for a cruiseline, my reaction was two fold:
1. Will I be performing great diva hits on the Lido deck nightly at 7pm? I'll do anything but Etta James, as she's liable to cut a blacktress.
2. Ship...ship...ship...why does that fill me with dread? Oh yeah--SLAVERY!!!
Where are you taking me, Oliver?!
Clearly I overreacted.
I got in today at 10:30 am, where I was greeted by a smiley HR woman, who found it funny that I didn't want to look at my ID photo before it was printed. I mean, hello, business casual and chunky sweater--what's there to see? Any way you slice it, it's a hot mess.
I was then handed over to Sarah, who doesn't look a day over 12. In fact, she looks like a kewpie doll.
Imagine this doll dressed in a cardigan and A-line skirt, and give her a ponytail. That's my boss.
Luckily, she's as sweet as she looks and today was pretty low-key, which was good. Of course being a member of the talented tenth, work was crazily easy, and I found myself wanting to check my email during a lull.
After typing in gmail.com, I was greeted with the most heinous image I have ever seen:
ACCESS DENIED
BLOCKED BY SURFCONTROL.
BLOCKED BY SURFCONTROL.
WTF?!
How the hell am I supposed to get through my day without gmail?! I got in at 10:45, had a 45-minute lunch, was practically kicked out at 5:15pm, and still got everything done that had piled up. Without the ability to procrastinate and psychoanalyze every letter of every email from Fred Weasley, I'm going to have to actually work. Quickly and efficiently.
Ew.
Then they'll realize I'm kind of bright and probably give me responsibilities or something.
This is not what I signed on for!
So, I'm calling out to you, readers. What can I do to procrastinate just enough that they don't want me to do extra things? Maybe I'll just stay up really late and go in so tired and lame that every task actually ends up taking 2 hours to complete.
Questions, comments, suggestions?
Monday, February 9, 2009
WACK History Month
What the hell is going on here, people?! First Beyonce - Etta James duel to the death, New York scheduled to appear in the Vag Mons, and now Chris Brown is charged with assaulting Rihanna.
I am in Disturbia.
What's prompted me to blog is the recent New York Times Article on the whole thing. Check it here. Here's the excerpt that really pisses me off:
“He was very professional and didn’t appear to have injuries,” said Sgt. Bridget Pickett, [about Chris Brown] adding, “He’s a good looking young man.”
What the hell?! I don't care if he's cute. I don't care if, after running scared, calling his manager, handlers, and 12 high-priced lawyers, he turned himself in--he assaulted his girlfriend, assholes!
And what's really making me sad is Ri-Ri. She has been in an abusive relationship with this fool for a long time. How long would it have gone on if not for this incident? As much as I respect a need for her privacy, I wish we were addressing what she's dealing with instead of hearing from rappers and cops who say Chris is "good looking." It's as though she's completely devalued. While they are the "king and queen of pop" right now, it just seems that the biggest concern is getting Chris off so we can go back to watching him dance and pretend this never happened. The willingness to sweep it under the rug is sickening. If Rihanna can't even get justice, what hope is there for the thousands of abused women who live in fear every day?
I'm sorry y'all, this just has me trippin'. What do you think?
I am in Disturbia.
What's prompted me to blog is the recent New York Times Article on the whole thing. Check it here. Here's the excerpt that really pisses me off:
“He was very professional and didn’t appear to have injuries,” said Sgt. Bridget Pickett, [about Chris Brown] adding, “He’s a good looking young man.”
What the hell?! I don't care if he's cute. I don't care if, after running scared, calling his manager, handlers, and 12 high-priced lawyers, he turned himself in--he assaulted his girlfriend, assholes!
And what's really making me sad is Ri-Ri. She has been in an abusive relationship with this fool for a long time. How long would it have gone on if not for this incident? As much as I respect a need for her privacy, I wish we were addressing what she's dealing with instead of hearing from rappers and cops who say Chris is "good looking." It's as though she's completely devalued. While they are the "king and queen of pop" right now, it just seems that the biggest concern is getting Chris off so we can go back to watching him dance and pretend this never happened. The willingness to sweep it under the rug is sickening. If Rihanna can't even get justice, what hope is there for the thousands of abused women who live in fear every day?
I'm sorry y'all, this just has me trippin'. What do you think?
Ri-ri, I got your back. I will be breaking dishes and using them to cut Chris Brown!
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