So, I'm feeling at a loss guys, unsure of what to write about. In a new and innovative twist, I'm going to go to YOU, the readers. Here's what I'm thinking:
Let's go back to the improvisational comedy roots. In the comments section, write a suggestion. Any word, doesn't matter what it is, or even a sentence/phrase/or random tidbit from the papers. I'll look over the suggestions and see what they inspire me to write. I PROMISE you I will use a suggestion, and I PROMISE you'll have a new blog post by the day's end--that is, IF you give me suggestions!!!
In a way, it's like Choose Your Own Blacktress Adventure!! What fun!
I'm not kidding. Leave a suggestion.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
The Summer of New Lows
So, as I said in my previous post, this summer is definitely falling under the category of "Summer of New Lows." This title comes from fellow blogger and strong black woman KWalsh, with whom I can always share the lowest of the low moments. As we are both in a transition, surfing the interwebs at all sorts of hours, and trying to put the recess in recession, the opportunities for self-loathing are abundant. However, we make lemonade out of these lemons, mostly by entertaining each other (it probably also helps that she lives on an island, and goes to the beach as often as most people brush their teeth).
But for some reason, the website "Texts From Last Night" (TFLN) doesn't seem to find us hysterical. In one of our mind-meld moments, we revealed to each other that we'd submitted texts to the site and were brutally rebuffed. After all, we'd done some pretty f'ed up ish, and who was TFLN to say that we weren't raunchy/crazy/racist enough for the world to know? I mean, they even have a section called "NEW LOW"--for those moments when "hot mess" just doesn't cover it.
So, as Sojourner has always had to do, I am making my own forum for self-expression, refusing to let the white man silence my voice as it shouts new lows. And, as is often my goal on this blog, I share my lows, so you may find a moment of joy (which, ironically, is the first word my cell comes up with when I try to type 'low' with the T9 feature).
Here are some texts from The Summer of New Lows-- or as I like to call it, TFTSNL.
Judge not lest ye be judged. (note: when demanding something of someone, quoting the bible is always a good start)
(917): new low: drinking red wine and eating taco bell* at 3pm on thursday.
you are not alone in this.
(917): made out with a businessman from minnesota last night.
(860): it was sunday!
(917): i know. i reek of booze and bad choices.
(917): i forgot to mention the epic fail of last night's hook up. he was covered in body hair and had a belly button ring.
what's wrong with me?
(860): eating mozzarella straight out of a five pound bag. summer of new lows!
(917): always chase your birth control with port. it doesn't really matter when you're not getting laid.
(860): looking at the ex-bf's wedding pics on facebook. new low
*Never do this. Your stomach will hold a grudge like a middle school girl.
But for some reason, the website "Texts From Last Night" (TFLN) doesn't seem to find us hysterical. In one of our mind-meld moments, we revealed to each other that we'd submitted texts to the site and were brutally rebuffed. After all, we'd done some pretty f'ed up ish, and who was TFLN to say that we weren't raunchy/crazy/racist enough for the world to know? I mean, they even have a section called "NEW LOW"--for those moments when "hot mess" just doesn't cover it.
So, as Sojourner has always had to do, I am making my own forum for self-expression, refusing to let the white man silence my voice as it shouts new lows. And, as is often my goal on this blog, I share my lows, so you may find a moment of joy (which, ironically, is the first word my cell comes up with when I try to type 'low' with the T9 feature).
Here are some texts from The Summer of New Lows-- or as I like to call it, TFTSNL.
Judge not lest ye be judged. (note: when demanding something of someone, quoting the bible is always a good start)
(917): new low: drinking red wine and eating taco bell* at 3pm on thursday.
you are not alone in this.
(917): made out with a businessman from minnesota last night.
(860): it was sunday!
(917): i know. i reek of booze and bad choices.
(917): i forgot to mention the epic fail of last night's hook up. he was covered in body hair and had a belly button ring.
what's wrong with me?
(860): eating mozzarella straight out of a five pound bag. summer of new lows!
(917): always chase your birth control with port. it doesn't really matter when you're not getting laid.
(860): looking at the ex-bf's wedding pics on facebook. new low
*Never do this. Your stomach will hold a grudge like a middle school girl.
Monday, August 17, 2009
If I lived in Charlotte....
So, this summer has proven itself to be the Summer of New Lows (more on that later). I'm actually in a place of acceptance, as I roll solo and try to keep myself entertained in this jobless world. Much of my time involves sitting at bar 99 Below, where I chat with Ollie, a 6'6" Irishman who I like to refer to as 'heterosexuality's greatest loss.' He's also, in true Irish fashion, a champion drinker and thanks to him I now have the tolerance of a sailor on leave! Every trip to 99 Below ends with a boost, either from the buzz of too much Jameson, or the meeting of a random, such as the 45-year-old married guy last Tuesday, who told me that the only reason I was single is because men my age can't handle what a dynamic woman I am.
Anyhoo, so Friday night, after a dinner with a friend, I headed to 99 Below.
Yes, by myself.
Yes, at prime bar-hopping hour.
This is no different than walking the streets of Sydney on my own, and at least I get free drinks when I'm at 99. I also find it much more tolerable to interact with strangers than frenemies, so this solo roll is often my own doing.
So, I'm planted at the bar, chatting up Ollie, when these two random dudes come up to order their Budweiser. Ever the enabler, Ollie goes, "you want shots, fellas?" The shorter one with the spikier hair turns to me and asks, "do you want one?" Never one to turn down a free drink, I agree, and of course, the group shot makes us all new best friends.
The DJ is playing early 90s jams, starting with Montell Jordan, and going all the way from Boyz II Men, to ABC, to BBD--the east coast family! We're singing along and their reminiscing about college, and the dudes automatically assume I'm their age, cause I know all the words. They made some joke about "the 25 years olds on the side who just want to hear The Killers," and I fake laughed, waiting for the right moment to tell them I'm in that age bracket.
Spikey haired dude introduces himself as Ryan, and he tells me he's visiting his buddy from Charlotte, NC. His friend Mark, who has lived in NYC 7 years, is quite standoffish, but I don't mind cause he has an overgrown soul patch.
Not one to go down the same road twice, I instantly ask Ryan why he's not wearing his wedding ring. He's taken aback, as he hasn't mentioned a wife. He laughs, and explains that it's back at Mark's house.
"You're good," he says.
Ryan goes on to say how much he loves NYC, and how close he and Mark are. "Seriously, it's my two daughters, then this guy."
Um, what about his wife? I think I need to get Dr. Phil on the horn, cause this marriage sounds like it's full of hate-fucking.
As we talk, and after I reveal my age, Ryan says, "you're the smartest person I've ever talked to at a bar." Clearly, this is true, but it's also sad. What is with men's low standards for people--and women especially? As soon as I string together a sentence--and especially if it ends in a punchline--the dude loses his shit and can't cope. The rest of our conversation was so magical, I feel as though it must be transcribed.
Ryan: What are you doing here by yourself?
Me: I'm a lone wolf.
Ryan: What? You're not here with anyone?
Me: I live on the edge, on the fringes.
Ryan: I don't understand what you're doing here alone.
Mark (suddenly at attention, super excited): Dude, this is what I'm talking 'bout! This is what's so awesome about New York! Hot girls all over the place, none of them have boyfriends. Hot girls, just sitting by themselves, dude!
[I laugh, the sad laughter of a clown]
Ryan (looking wide-eyed and thrown, as though he just found out one of his daughters was pregnant): Dude, that is crazy.
Mark: That's why I fucking love this city!
Ryan (to me): If you were in Charlotte, you'd have 17 boyfriends right now.
Mark: You'd have a husband, 6 kids, and a big ol' house, baby.
Me: Um, can I fly back with you tomorrow, Ry?
[laughter ensues]
Mark: So, does that mean I can take you out for dinner on Sunday?
Me: What?
Mark (to Ryan): See how they do? (to me) Seriously, dinner Sunday?
Me: Oh, I can't, I'm busy.
Mark: What about Monday?
Me: I have an improv class, 7 to 10.
Mark (to Ryan): And that's another thing about New York, dude--every one of them's a fucking actress!!
[They laugh as I playfully hit Mark kinda hard in the shoulder and am not joking at all.]
Me: Whatever, dude. Okay, then, what about Wednesday?
[I'm not even all that interested in this dude, but his reverse psychology is working like a charm, and it really gets my goat when someone hears I'm a blacktress or comedian, and instantly writes off all my positive traits as being "on," or full of shit.]
Mark: Oh, um, I can't. I have to travel for work.
Me: Where?
Mark: I'm going to Dubai.
Me (to Ryan): And that's why I can't date in New York. They've all gotta go to Dubai!!
[laughter ensues]
Ryan: You're seriously the smartest woman I've ever met.
Mark: See, dude? They're all busy though. That's the thing that sucks. They've all got an improv class and a show and an opening, and a wine and cheese party?
Me: What?
Mark: You heard me, wine and cheese!
Me: Whatever, dude, you know you love it. You love that I'm fucking busy, cause it makes you think I'm cool as hell.
[Mark cracks up, and high fives me.]
Me: So, why are you single, if NYC is so great? You're southern and, what, 37? What's your damage?
[Mark laughs again, and Ryan joins in, but neither of them answer. Most curious indeed.]
Mark: You're not free Tuesday?
Me: I thought you leave for Dubai on Tuesday?
Mark: I do, at night.
[What kind of Dubai flight is this, where he can have a dinner date beforehand? Are we going to grab a bite at the Chili's Too in JFK Airport?]
Me: Whatever, call me when you get back.
Mark: That's in, like, a week. This connection will fizzle by then.
[What connection?]
Me: No it won't. You won't meet anyone cooler than me in the next 10 days, let's be real.
[There's much laughter, and Mark high fives me yet again.]
Ryan: You're the smartest woman I've ever met. You should come live in Charlotte.
After 5 free dranks on these two southern gents, I must say, hopping on a midnight train to Charlotte started to look pretty damn good.
Oh, and obvi I have not heard from soul patch. Goes to show that even the most southern of gentlemen can still become tainted by the NYC. You know, the city that never sleeps...with the same girl twice.
Anyhoo, so Friday night, after a dinner with a friend, I headed to 99 Below.
Yes, by myself.
Yes, at prime bar-hopping hour.
This is no different than walking the streets of Sydney on my own, and at least I get free drinks when I'm at 99. I also find it much more tolerable to interact with strangers than frenemies, so this solo roll is often my own doing.
So, I'm planted at the bar, chatting up Ollie, when these two random dudes come up to order their Budweiser. Ever the enabler, Ollie goes, "you want shots, fellas?" The shorter one with the spikier hair turns to me and asks, "do you want one?" Never one to turn down a free drink, I agree, and of course, the group shot makes us all new best friends.
The DJ is playing early 90s jams, starting with Montell Jordan, and going all the way from Boyz II Men, to ABC, to BBD--the east coast family! We're singing along and their reminiscing about college, and the dudes automatically assume I'm their age, cause I know all the words. They made some joke about "the 25 years olds on the side who just want to hear The Killers," and I fake laughed, waiting for the right moment to tell them I'm in that age bracket.
Spikey haired dude introduces himself as Ryan, and he tells me he's visiting his buddy from Charlotte, NC. His friend Mark, who has lived in NYC 7 years, is quite standoffish, but I don't mind cause he has an overgrown soul patch.
Not one to go down the same road twice, I instantly ask Ryan why he's not wearing his wedding ring. He's taken aback, as he hasn't mentioned a wife. He laughs, and explains that it's back at Mark's house.
"You're good," he says.
Ryan goes on to say how much he loves NYC, and how close he and Mark are. "Seriously, it's my two daughters, then this guy."
Um, what about his wife? I think I need to get Dr. Phil on the horn, cause this marriage sounds like it's full of hate-fucking.
As we talk, and after I reveal my age, Ryan says, "you're the smartest person I've ever talked to at a bar." Clearly, this is true, but it's also sad. What is with men's low standards for people--and women especially? As soon as I string together a sentence--and especially if it ends in a punchline--the dude loses his shit and can't cope. The rest of our conversation was so magical, I feel as though it must be transcribed.
Ryan: What are you doing here by yourself?
Me: I'm a lone wolf.
Ryan: What? You're not here with anyone?
Me: I live on the edge, on the fringes.
Ryan: I don't understand what you're doing here alone.
Mark (suddenly at attention, super excited): Dude, this is what I'm talking 'bout! This is what's so awesome about New York! Hot girls all over the place, none of them have boyfriends. Hot girls, just sitting by themselves, dude!
[I laugh, the sad laughter of a clown]
Ryan (looking wide-eyed and thrown, as though he just found out one of his daughters was pregnant): Dude, that is crazy.
Mark: That's why I fucking love this city!
Ryan (to me): If you were in Charlotte, you'd have 17 boyfriends right now.
Mark: You'd have a husband, 6 kids, and a big ol' house, baby.
Me: Um, can I fly back with you tomorrow, Ry?
[laughter ensues]
Mark: So, does that mean I can take you out for dinner on Sunday?
Me: What?
Mark (to Ryan): See how they do? (to me) Seriously, dinner Sunday?
Me: Oh, I can't, I'm busy.
Mark: What about Monday?
Me: I have an improv class, 7 to 10.
Mark (to Ryan): And that's another thing about New York, dude--every one of them's a fucking actress!!
[They laugh as I playfully hit Mark kinda hard in the shoulder and am not joking at all.]
Me: Whatever, dude. Okay, then, what about Wednesday?
[I'm not even all that interested in this dude, but his reverse psychology is working like a charm, and it really gets my goat when someone hears I'm a blacktress or comedian, and instantly writes off all my positive traits as being "on," or full of shit.]
Mark: Oh, um, I can't. I have to travel for work.
Me: Where?
Mark: I'm going to Dubai.
Me (to Ryan): And that's why I can't date in New York. They've all gotta go to Dubai!!
[laughter ensues]
Ryan: You're seriously the smartest woman I've ever met.
Mark: See, dude? They're all busy though. That's the thing that sucks. They've all got an improv class and a show and an opening, and a wine and cheese party?
Me: What?
Mark: You heard me, wine and cheese!
Me: Whatever, dude, you know you love it. You love that I'm fucking busy, cause it makes you think I'm cool as hell.
[Mark cracks up, and high fives me.]
Me: So, why are you single, if NYC is so great? You're southern and, what, 37? What's your damage?
[Mark laughs again, and Ryan joins in, but neither of them answer. Most curious indeed.]
Mark: You're not free Tuesday?
Me: I thought you leave for Dubai on Tuesday?
Mark: I do, at night.
[What kind of Dubai flight is this, where he can have a dinner date beforehand? Are we going to grab a bite at the Chili's Too in JFK Airport?]
Me: Whatever, call me when you get back.
Mark: That's in, like, a week. This connection will fizzle by then.
[What connection?]
Me: No it won't. You won't meet anyone cooler than me in the next 10 days, let's be real.
[There's much laughter, and Mark high fives me yet again.]
Ryan: You're the smartest woman I've ever met. You should come live in Charlotte.
After 5 free dranks on these two southern gents, I must say, hopping on a midnight train to Charlotte started to look pretty damn good.
Oh, and obvi I have not heard from soul patch. Goes to show that even the most southern of gentlemen can still become tainted by the NYC. You know, the city that never sleeps...with the same girl twice.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
My New Frenemy
So, I mentioned my reparations in the form of UCB classes, right? Well, they just keep on giving, as this past Saturday I got a call from the theater saying I'd won the lottery!!
Instead of receiving heaps of cash (which my unemployed ass could use), I got the chance to perform on Harold Night with professional house team members, one of whom happened to be my future life partner, Jeff Hiller (I blog about him way too much). The plan was for 10 students, chosen from different levels of classes, to be broken up into two teams with 4 pro-team members on each. We'd do long-form improv, learning and growing with the help of the hardcore improvisers.
We had a rehearsal on Sunday, and us 10 students got to work. Our teacher was another professional improviser, and from the moment I walked in, I was a smitten kitten.
Two words: read beard.
Third word: SWOON!
Our rehearsal went pretty well, but we were such a hodgepodge. Some kids were just starting improv 101, and would now be expected to do the hardcore stuff in front of an audience WITH THE PROS! I was feeling pretty confident, because I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and gosh darnit, people like me!
This all changed pre-show last night. I had no energy and hadn't had a chance to get in the improv headspace, so I just wasn't sure how good I'd be. I started running in place and making stupid jokes to get myself together. When I found out I was put on Jeff Hiller's team, and I knew all would be right in the world. After all, I'm obsessed with him, and although he's never seen me improvise, we do great work together. See for yourself:
Anyhoo, I figured at the very least, I'd let the pros lead the way, and I'd follow along.
Turns out, this blacktress isn't riding the back of the bus! All my scenes went really well, and post-show, I got alot of positive feedback from audience members and improvisers. I think I'm on my way to diversifying UCB from the inside--holla!
However, I have a frenemy in my way. She's another young blacktress who also got the diversity scholarship, and she's very cute. She's got that natural afro, a huge smile, and she's from the Midwest, which, coupled with the fact that she just graduated college in May, makes her bubbly and really smiley and optimistic.
She must be stopped.
She's somewhat funny, and I do want to support fellow blacktresses, but her shiny happy virgin-whore act is making her the blacktress-belle of the improv ball! WHAT ABOUT ME?!?!??! I'm older, I'm smarter, and way better baby-making material.
I wasn't trying to hate until last night, when we all hit up the UCB post-show hot spot, this dingy pub near 14th street. I told her about my fatty crush on Redbeard, and she's like, "let's go talk to him." We start to go over, then get sidetracked by fellow students. While we're talking, my frenemy walks over to Redbeard, and out of the corner of my eye I see her hugging all up on him! HELL TO THE NO!
That's when I knew she couldn't be trusted. We're supposed to have each other's back, not try to tap each other's wanna-be boos!
She hadn't met him before Sunday, there was no reason to touch (especially since most male improvisers, when taken off stage, display signs of mild autism), and SHE KNEW I WANTED HIM BAD BAD BAD.
If she wants to play by those rules, game is on.
God, jealousy and hatred are such lame emotions, and yet I'm finding them oddly satisfying in this moment. In fact, it wasn't until one of my main gays pointed me in the frenemy direction that I realized what I had to do.
Performing was great, and I felt so good afterwards, but it's the schmoozing with other improvisers that's tough for me. I've seen so many of them around the city over the years, and there are so many awkward bearded hotties, and I don't know how to approach them. See, in my head, we have elaborate relationships, we've known each other from the very first day I saw them on stage, and we're supposed to be best friends. In their heads, I'm a random girl who won't stop staring at them across the room.
It makes for uncomfortable dynamics.
Alot of the other students are nice, but some are so into the scene that it's weird, and others are simply not funny and boring. I'd prefer to get in with the veterans, get practical information and advice from those who have been through it, but I don't know how to make our love happen.
Any suggestions as to how to penetrate the world of Comedic Caucasia?
Instead of receiving heaps of cash (which my unemployed ass could use), I got the chance to perform on Harold Night with professional house team members, one of whom happened to be my future life partner, Jeff Hiller (I blog about him way too much). The plan was for 10 students, chosen from different levels of classes, to be broken up into two teams with 4 pro-team members on each. We'd do long-form improv, learning and growing with the help of the hardcore improvisers.
We had a rehearsal on Sunday, and us 10 students got to work. Our teacher was another professional improviser, and from the moment I walked in, I was a smitten kitten.
Two words: read beard.
Third word: SWOON!
Our rehearsal went pretty well, but we were such a hodgepodge. Some kids were just starting improv 101, and would now be expected to do the hardcore stuff in front of an audience WITH THE PROS! I was feeling pretty confident, because I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and gosh darnit, people like me!
This all changed pre-show last night. I had no energy and hadn't had a chance to get in the improv headspace, so I just wasn't sure how good I'd be. I started running in place and making stupid jokes to get myself together. When I found out I was put on Jeff Hiller's team, and I knew all would be right in the world. After all, I'm obsessed with him, and although he's never seen me improvise, we do great work together. See for yourself:
Anyhoo, I figured at the very least, I'd let the pros lead the way, and I'd follow along.
Turns out, this blacktress isn't riding the back of the bus! All my scenes went really well, and post-show, I got alot of positive feedback from audience members and improvisers. I think I'm on my way to diversifying UCB from the inside--holla!
However, I have a frenemy in my way. She's another young blacktress who also got the diversity scholarship, and she's very cute. She's got that natural afro, a huge smile, and she's from the Midwest, which, coupled with the fact that she just graduated college in May, makes her bubbly and really smiley and optimistic.
She must be stopped.
She's somewhat funny, and I do want to support fellow blacktresses, but her shiny happy virgin-whore act is making her the blacktress-belle of the improv ball! WHAT ABOUT ME?!?!??! I'm older, I'm smarter, and way better baby-making material.
I wasn't trying to hate until last night, when we all hit up the UCB post-show hot spot, this dingy pub near 14th street. I told her about my fatty crush on Redbeard, and she's like, "let's go talk to him." We start to go over, then get sidetracked by fellow students. While we're talking, my frenemy walks over to Redbeard, and out of the corner of my eye I see her hugging all up on him! HELL TO THE NO!
That's when I knew she couldn't be trusted. We're supposed to have each other's back, not try to tap each other's wanna-be boos!
She hadn't met him before Sunday, there was no reason to touch (especially since most male improvisers, when taken off stage, display signs of mild autism), and SHE KNEW I WANTED HIM BAD BAD BAD.
If she wants to play by those rules, game is on.
God, jealousy and hatred are such lame emotions, and yet I'm finding them oddly satisfying in this moment. In fact, it wasn't until one of my main gays pointed me in the frenemy direction that I realized what I had to do.
Performing was great, and I felt so good afterwards, but it's the schmoozing with other improvisers that's tough for me. I've seen so many of them around the city over the years, and there are so many awkward bearded hotties, and I don't know how to approach them. See, in my head, we have elaborate relationships, we've known each other from the very first day I saw them on stage, and we're supposed to be best friends. In their heads, I'm a random girl who won't stop staring at them across the room.
It makes for uncomfortable dynamics.
Alot of the other students are nice, but some are so into the scene that it's weird, and others are simply not funny and boring. I'd prefer to get in with the veterans, get practical information and advice from those who have been through it, but I don't know how to make our love happen.
Any suggestions as to how to penetrate the world of Comedic Caucasia?
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Go Shawty, it's yer burfday.....
Today's Obama's birthday!!! YAY!! The chocolate silver fox turns a sexy 48 years old today, and I'm ready to go all Marilyn Monroe on his fine ass!
What do you think the security guards will do if I rock up to the White House and jump out of a birthday cake on the front lawn? Will I be tasered, or will they fall in love with me? I just feel like it'd be a good time to wish him birthday goodness, as well as thank him for my reparations, which finally came through. Holla!
What reparations? You may be asking. I got a scholarship to take FREE improv classes at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre (UCB), a well-known institution in NYC. Basically, some very liberal and bright member of Caucasia who interns there made a shocking discovery: improv is the realm of straight White boys. She decided to do something about it, and got them to implement a Diversity program. Thanks to Obama, black is the new black, and people are coming out of the woodwork to show some love to the Talented Tenth. UCB decided to jump on that bandwagon and offered up some freebies to 16 people of color.
No, no, I didn't just get it for being black--I got it for being young, gifted, and black, as well as the friend of an influential gay visionary. Comedian Jeff Hiller was telling me about the program and I was initially interested in recruiting, but without telling me, Jeffster ended up nominating me for it! Holla at a nomination--I feel like Taraji P. Henson, and this is my Benjamin Button!
Reason #256 that I love a gay man: They are not afraid to lift up a strong black woman.
I had my second class last night, and so far it's going pretty well. I'd taken a couple UCB classes before, but I could never really get into it--it's such a cult, and everyone there is into name-dropping who they've studied with, and all work really hard to be funny. Add to that the fact that it is indeed a boys club, and there just left little for the blacktress to desire. However, it is a great place to be if you want to make it in the comedy world, as anyone who's anyone starts out there. I see tons of UCB people working as talking heads on VH1 (you know, I love the 80s, Best Groundhog's Day Ever, stuff like that), and even see former teachers on "The Office" and "Parks and Recreation." I know that if I want to reach the masses, I gotta take some classes!
So I'm getting in it to win it. I'm making friends with established performers, and vowing to see more shows. Even though I'm a little rusty, my scenes have been pretty strong, and the teacher isn't calling me out, which is always good. The people in the class are all nice, and are grasping concepts quickly, but the humour isn't necessarily strong. That's fine by me, though. If they can at least not fuck up the scenes, then I'm good to go. My teacher is also so tender and smart. He's the Michelle Pfeiffer to my improvisational Dangerous Mind, if you will.
But let me bring this back to the man of the day: Birthday Boy Barack.
Without him, I might not have gotten these reparations. He's proving that 48 is the new 28, and without him I wouldn't even be blogging this right now.
Happy Birthday, Barack! I hope you like your jaunty bday hat!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Am I Bitter?
I was talking with a gal pal last night about her latest suitor, and we came up with some great insights that I think are worth sharing with you, gentle readers. Here's an excerpt from our late night jaw session.
Happy Friend in the Courtship Phase: get this-- the first time we made out he was extremely inebriated, and he said "we need to slow down, because i don't want you to think im just interested in you because im drunk. i respect you too much for that"
Happy Friend in the Courtship Phase: get this-- the first time we made out he was extremely inebriated, and he said "we need to slow down, because i don't want you to think im just interested in you because im drunk. i respect you too much for that"
Me: WOW
that's amazing
[blacktress' note: the fact that I'm this impressed by what should be commonplace is quite telling, don't you think?]
[blacktress' note: the fact that I'm this impressed by what should be commonplace is quite telling, don't you think?]
HFitCP: i know
Me: he's a fucking unicorn
bag that shit
bag it
HFitCP: i KNOW
Me: mount it
lock it down
[of course, being such a nice man, she explains that he doesn't live in nyc, and she's heading off to the other side of the world for the next month, so there's that dash of drama...]
Me: ugh, it is so hard Me: So, is he taller than you?
[of course, being such a nice man, she explains that he doesn't live in nyc, and she's heading off to the other side of the world for the next month, so there's that dash of drama...]
Me: ugh, it is so hard
you have to just enjoy it til you leave, and then push it out of your mind
there's a reason i call such men unicorns
HFitCP: yeah
Me: they cannot be found
they cannot be tamed
they are not of our world
they are not of our world
they are the stuff of legends
HFitCP: yup
he wears glasses
and he's one of the sweetest, most thoughtful guys ive known
Me: Oh, love it!
that's so great, boo
ugh, why can't he be in nyc?
oh, right, because nyc is where nice boys go to die and douchebags go to spawn
oh, right, because nyc is where nice boys go to die and douchebags go to spawn
you know, the way gremlins spawned
HFitCP: yep
Me: don't get douchebags wet
or feed them after midnight
HFitCP: haha!
yeah, he'd never survive in nyc
HFitCP: god, nyc really is a shit holeMe: it's so crazy, cause think of HOW MANY there are! You'd think, with the sheer number of men, there'd be enough good ones for us to catch. Alas, no.
and then you hear about friends in relationships, and you get this spark of hope
but that spark, when combined with the harsh winds of rejection and the dry heat of celibacy, only causes a forest fire in your soul*
that can't be put out
HFitCP: i know it, girl.
its miserable.
*Earlier in the day I watched 'When Weather Changed History' on The Weather Channel. FUN FACT: Did you know the three factors that lead to a forest fire are harsh winds, dry heat, and dead vegetation?
*Earlier in the day I watched 'When Weather Changed History' on The Weather Channel. FUN FACT: Did you know the three factors that lead to a forest fire are harsh winds, dry heat, and dead vegetation?
Monday, July 27, 2009
16 and Pregnant Finale Special: "Life After Labor"
i know it's long overdue, but here's the live blog of the "16 and Pregnant" Finale Special.
I'd like to say that Dr. Drew Pinsky is my new hero, due to his condescending tone, his tough love with the useless bfs, and his tenderness with the mothers. For those of you who haven't seen every episode, here's....
Our panel:
Maci - 17, from Chattanooga, TN.
Ebony - 17, from Colorado Springs, CO
Whitney - 16, from someplace southern. She and her mom were prego at the same time.
Farrah -17. Her mom hit her in the car.
Amber - She got a Wal-Mart engagement ring from Gary, who purchased a PlayStation when they had a baby on the way.
Catelynn--my favorite homegirl, who made a tough choice.
Dr. Drew, from MTV's "Loveline," and VH1's "Celebrity Rehab." If either show had been on in the last 5 years, maybe these teens wouldn't have been 16 and pregnant.
[10:01]
First thing's first--who lost the baby weight?
Maci's looking good! Amber....not so much. Ebony is all made up, but she doesn't look as good here as she did in her episode.
Are Catelynn's braces off?! She looks so good!
Farrah's mom is on the show with her? I hope she can stay calm and not hit her daughter.
- Oh, I love Farrah's recap--she was a cheerleader! Her makeup is always so flawless. Like, even in the delivery room, she was an easy breezy beautiful covergirl!
- YES, they showed the clip of her mom hitting her! Call it out!
- "I don't even know if I actually hit her," mom says to Dr. Drew. Oh my god, when should Dr. Drew call ACS [administration for children's services]?
[10:06] The ease with which Dr. Drew uses the term "baby daddy" makes me uncomfortable.
Dr. Drew knows that Farrah and her mother are totally lying for the cameras.
[10:11 - 10:16] Maci's interview.
- Recap highlight: I forgot how they kept leaving the baby on the couch. Just, like propped up against the arm of the chair. I know they say "face-up to wake up," but that was a bit ridiculous.
- Ryan, Maci's bf, realized he was a hot mess after seeing the show.
(Maybe I need to record some of my dates, so the dudes can see the playback and get their shit together.)
- "Where is your supportive partner?" Dr. Drew is cutting to the core, and making Maci emotional. He's gonna talk to Ryan!
- Oh god, Maci's gonna cry.
- Dr. Drew wants to punch Ryan in the face. He's fidgeting and clutching his cue card--and stopping Maci from speaking for Ryan. Love it!
"Don't help him. Don't. do it." Dr. Drew is all about tough love.
[10:20 - 10:25]
- Dr. Drew is making Ryan apologize to Maci. "I want to hear it." Dr. Drew is going to make them get to the bottom of things. Love the couple's counseling!
- She's got great mascara-it's all thick and dark, and yet it doesn't run as she cries. Maybe it's Maybelline?
- "Did you ever consider abortion?" OOOOOHHH, hard-hitting question, Dr. Drew!
They said no, without hesitation.
- "It's just not for me," says Maci--as though abortion was, like, sauteed mushrooms or something. I'm not saying her opinions are wrong, but you can tell she knows it's a loaded question and she's not ready to be a pro-life poster-child.
- Dr. Drew's goodbye to Maci and Ryan is basically like, "Well, there's nothing I can do here, so why don't we cut to commercial?"
[10:28 - 10:34] Amber and Gary's recap.
- Fun fact: 3 out 10 American girls will become pregnant before they turn 20. For reals? Damn, I didn't know I beat the odds!
- Amber's talking about her daughter: "she looks so different from when she was born. She's bigger now...." Um, yes, Amber, that's what happens with babies. They grow.
- Turns out that $21.40 Wal-Mart ring was what she wanted.
- Okay, Amber and Gary actually seem like they are good together. They laugh and seem comfortable, and she's not all snippy and high-maintenance about having a cheap ring, and there seems to be closeness there.
- They hadn't been using a condom the whole time they were together! WTF?! "I just don't know what I was thinking." Oh, Amber, boo bear....
- "So, let me get this straight: his pleasure cost you your childhood and your youth." Dr. Drew is so hardcore.
[10:37- 10:42] Ebony and Josh!
- They are holding hands and still in love. They got married!
- Josh looks alot like Billy Bob Thornton in Slingblade, doesn't he?
- For some reason, hearing that these kids are getting married or engaged isn't as tender or uplifting as it would be if they were educated adults with careers who hadn't had a child already.
- Dr. Drew's sign off: "Mm, well thank you guys, thanks for being here Ebony and Josh, and congratulations on the marriage." = "Well, I don't know how you're gonna be in school while he's in the airforce, and who the hell is gonna take care of your baby, but good luck with that pipedream."
[10:45 - 10:52] CATELYNN AND TYLER!! My faves!
Fun fact: 730,000 teen pregnancies each year in America. 1/2 result in child. Only 1% are adopted!
Oh em gee, Tyler is there!! I was worried they'd broken up, cause I hadn't seen him in the promos. I am so obsessed with them.
Not having breastfed, I was worried Catelynn wouldn't have lost the baby weight, but she looks great.
Oh, wait, in close-up, I see her braces aren't off!
Tyler's large white hat, so cocked to the side. He is urban.
- Dr. Drew loves them, he keeps touching his chest intensely (much like Justin Bieber in the "One Time" video). "I feel so passionately that people like you need to be honored, because what you did is so hard."
- "When you have a kid, it's not about you anymore," said Catelynn. From the mouths of babes!
- Theresa and Brandon are coming with baby Carly.
TEARS FROM TYLER!!!!!!!
- Tyler is the most tender 17 year old I've ever seen. He and Brandon (adoptive dad) are almost the same height. They're sharing a bro-hug!!!
- Okay, now it's kinda awkward. Like, Theresa has to defer to Catelynn as bio-mom, but it is her child. And Catelynn and Tyler get that far-away look in their eyes, like they want the baby.
- Catelynn and Tyler are both cryers. That's how their relationship thrives.
Catelynn left her mom's place and has been living at Tyler's. When asked why, she says matter-of-factly, "with drunks, and loud music, no." Catelynn just put her family on blast!
[11:12 - 11:30]
Whitney and Weston!
- Um, what is with Weston's haircut? I much preferred his shagginess.
- Whitney has an annoying baby voice.
- She no longer "makes jokes and jumps around," Whitney says, when comparing her pre-pregnancy self to now, as a mom. Really? That's the difference?
- How old is Weston?! I mean, he didn't act like a 17 year old, and could easily be 24.
- Clearly Dr. Drew will not be happy until he's made everyone cry.
- Baby Weston has medical issues!!! AAAHHH!!!! He has a genetic disorder that affects his liver.
Ryan is Maci's first boyfriend! And now she's going to marry him! HOT MESS!!!
All the girls all together! They are so sweet to each other. Ebony and Catelynn share a hug--tenderness!
No one breastfed their babies. "It hurt!!!" they're whining.
Um, get it together ladies--like, you already popped it out of your vag and I can't imagine it hurting anymore that, so you might as well give it antibodies to make it as healthy as possible. Who hasn't had a sore nip after a rough night?
They all come out with their babies, and Tyler's at the end of the line just awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. You made the right decision, Ty!!!
All in all, this wasn't the emotional rollercoaster I was hoping for--although Dr. Drew did a great job of trying to make everyone feel bad. All I know is I can't wait for the next season of "16 and Pregnant." If I was a producer, I'd call it: "16 and Pregnant: L'eggo my eggo, I don't want to get Prego."
I'd like to say that Dr. Drew Pinsky is my new hero, due to his condescending tone, his tough love with the useless bfs, and his tenderness with the mothers. For those of you who haven't seen every episode, here's....
Our panel:
Maci - 17, from Chattanooga, TN.
Ebony - 17, from Colorado Springs, CO
Whitney - 16, from someplace southern. She and her mom were prego at the same time.
Farrah -17. Her mom hit her in the car.
Amber - She got a Wal-Mart engagement ring from Gary, who purchased a PlayStation when they had a baby on the way.
Catelynn--my favorite homegirl, who made a tough choice.
Dr. Drew, from MTV's "Loveline," and VH1's "Celebrity Rehab." If either show had been on in the last 5 years, maybe these teens wouldn't have been 16 and pregnant.
[10:01]
First thing's first--who lost the baby weight?
Maci's looking good! Amber....not so much. Ebony is all made up, but she doesn't look as good here as she did in her episode.
Are Catelynn's braces off?! She looks so good!
Farrah's mom is on the show with her? I hope she can stay calm and not hit her daughter.
- Oh, I love Farrah's recap--she was a cheerleader! Her makeup is always so flawless. Like, even in the delivery room, she was an easy breezy beautiful covergirl!
- YES, they showed the clip of her mom hitting her! Call it out!
- "I don't even know if I actually hit her," mom says to Dr. Drew. Oh my god, when should Dr. Drew call ACS [administration for children's services]?
[10:06] The ease with which Dr. Drew uses the term "baby daddy" makes me uncomfortable.
Dr. Drew knows that Farrah and her mother are totally lying for the cameras.
[10:11 - 10:16] Maci's interview.
- Recap highlight: I forgot how they kept leaving the baby on the couch. Just, like propped up against the arm of the chair. I know they say "face-up to wake up," but that was a bit ridiculous.
- Ryan, Maci's bf, realized he was a hot mess after seeing the show.
(Maybe I need to record some of my dates, so the dudes can see the playback and get their shit together.)
- "Where is your supportive partner?" Dr. Drew is cutting to the core, and making Maci emotional. He's gonna talk to Ryan!
- Oh god, Maci's gonna cry.
- Dr. Drew wants to punch Ryan in the face. He's fidgeting and clutching his cue card--and stopping Maci from speaking for Ryan. Love it!
"Don't help him. Don't. do it." Dr. Drew is all about tough love.
[10:20 - 10:25]
- Dr. Drew is making Ryan apologize to Maci. "I want to hear it." Dr. Drew is going to make them get to the bottom of things. Love the couple's counseling!
- She's got great mascara-it's all thick and dark, and yet it doesn't run as she cries. Maybe it's Maybelline?
- "Did you ever consider abortion?" OOOOOHHH, hard-hitting question, Dr. Drew!
They said no, without hesitation.
- "It's just not for me," says Maci--as though abortion was, like, sauteed mushrooms or something. I'm not saying her opinions are wrong, but you can tell she knows it's a loaded question and she's not ready to be a pro-life poster-child.
- Dr. Drew's goodbye to Maci and Ryan is basically like, "Well, there's nothing I can do here, so why don't we cut to commercial?"
[10:28 - 10:34] Amber and Gary's recap.
- Fun fact: 3 out 10 American girls will become pregnant before they turn 20. For reals? Damn, I didn't know I beat the odds!
- Amber's talking about her daughter: "she looks so different from when she was born. She's bigger now...." Um, yes, Amber, that's what happens with babies. They grow.
- Turns out that $21.40 Wal-Mart ring was what she wanted.
- Okay, Amber and Gary actually seem like they are good together. They laugh and seem comfortable, and she's not all snippy and high-maintenance about having a cheap ring, and there seems to be closeness there.
- They hadn't been using a condom the whole time they were together! WTF?! "I just don't know what I was thinking." Oh, Amber, boo bear....
- "So, let me get this straight: his pleasure cost you your childhood and your youth." Dr. Drew is so hardcore.
[10:37- 10:42] Ebony and Josh!
- They are holding hands and still in love. They got married!
- Josh looks alot like Billy Bob Thornton in Slingblade, doesn't he?
- For some reason, hearing that these kids are getting married or engaged isn't as tender or uplifting as it would be if they were educated adults with careers who hadn't had a child already.
- Dr. Drew's sign off: "Mm, well thank you guys, thanks for being here Ebony and Josh, and congratulations on the marriage." = "Well, I don't know how you're gonna be in school while he's in the airforce, and who the hell is gonna take care of your baby, but good luck with that pipedream."
[10:45 - 10:52] CATELYNN AND TYLER!! My faves!
Fun fact: 730,000 teen pregnancies each year in America. 1/2 result in child. Only 1% are adopted!
Oh em gee, Tyler is there!! I was worried they'd broken up, cause I hadn't seen him in the promos. I am so obsessed with them.
Not having breastfed, I was worried Catelynn wouldn't have lost the baby weight, but she looks great.
Oh, wait, in close-up, I see her braces aren't off!
Tyler's large white hat, so cocked to the side. He is urban.
- Dr. Drew loves them, he keeps touching his chest intensely (much like Justin Bieber in the "One Time" video). "I feel so passionately that people like you need to be honored, because what you did is so hard."
- "When you have a kid, it's not about you anymore," said Catelynn. From the mouths of babes!
- Theresa and Brandon are coming with baby Carly.
TEARS FROM TYLER!!!!!!!
- Tyler is the most tender 17 year old I've ever seen. He and Brandon (adoptive dad) are almost the same height. They're sharing a bro-hug!!!
- Okay, now it's kinda awkward. Like, Theresa has to defer to Catelynn as bio-mom, but it is her child. And Catelynn and Tyler get that far-away look in their eyes, like they want the baby.
- Catelynn and Tyler are both cryers. That's how their relationship thrives.
Catelynn left her mom's place and has been living at Tyler's. When asked why, she says matter-of-factly, "with drunks, and loud music, no." Catelynn just put her family on blast!
[11:12 - 11:30]
Whitney and Weston!
- Um, what is with Weston's haircut? I much preferred his shagginess.
- Whitney has an annoying baby voice.
- She no longer "makes jokes and jumps around," Whitney says, when comparing her pre-pregnancy self to now, as a mom. Really? That's the difference?
- How old is Weston?! I mean, he didn't act like a 17 year old, and could easily be 24.
- Clearly Dr. Drew will not be happy until he's made everyone cry.
- Baby Weston has medical issues!!! AAAHHH!!!! He has a genetic disorder that affects his liver.
Ryan is Maci's first boyfriend! And now she's going to marry him! HOT MESS!!!
All the girls all together! They are so sweet to each other. Ebony and Catelynn share a hug--tenderness!
No one breastfed their babies. "It hurt!!!" they're whining.
Um, get it together ladies--like, you already popped it out of your vag and I can't imagine it hurting anymore that, so you might as well give it antibodies to make it as healthy as possible. Who hasn't had a sore nip after a rough night?
They all come out with their babies, and Tyler's at the end of the line just awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. You made the right decision, Ty!!!
All in all, this wasn't the emotional rollercoaster I was hoping for--although Dr. Drew did a great job of trying to make everyone feel bad. All I know is I can't wait for the next season of "16 and Pregnant." If I was a producer, I'd call it: "16 and Pregnant: L'eggo my eggo, I don't want to get Prego."
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