My New Daddy

So, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this yet, but there’s a new massa in charge of the magazine where I work. This means that I have to pretty much make a new impression and re-prove myself to this person who doesn’t know my worth as a woman of color and a writer. He came on about a month ago, but the old editor-in-chief was still around, showing him the ropes and getting him acclimated. It was a really confusing time, as I wasn’t sure who to direct my queries to or who was actually in charge—I felt like I was on an episode of “My Two Dads.”

What was with that plush car in their apartment? Such a weird situation. IT'S CALLED DNA TESTING, PEOPLE!


Last week was new massa’s first week solo, and we’re all in a tizzy, as we work to bring him up to speed, explain our roles, and keep everything chugging along and meeting deadlines. He and I went to the watercolor event on Friday night, which I was nervous about—I wanted him to know I was an asset to the staff, but also a cool person, because half the time, the difference between a pink slip and a paycheck comes down to who is liked the most. It was also kinda weird, because it was sort of a social event, but I was clearly with my superior—what could we talk about for four hours without veering into non-professional conversation? What if I accidentally revealed the fact that I hate my job sometimes? EEP!!

Well, fortunately for us all, New Massa is great. Imagine Ian McKellan with a dash of Michael Showalter.
I'm sorry, I'd add a pic of Michael Showalter, but I'm too obsessed with Ian McKellan and this apple to place anything next to it that could detract from its amazingness.


Needless to say, we’re getting along swimmingly.

He’s a wonderful gay man with a hot bi-racial live-in bf, and he curses a lot and we crack each other up. When I told him I was nervous about the event and hoped I wouldn’t have to speak, he said he didn’t know what to say, either. I said, “No, I’m the Michelle to your Barack. You take it away, I’ll be in the background with the arms.” He LOL’d like a little LOLcat, and I knew we’d be forever together.

Throughout the event, we chatted about the art, and mix and mingled like a total power couple. I was prompted to sing his praises in blog form because when I went into his office a few minutes ago to share a silly submission (you know the artists like to share their hot messes), he replies with, “Oh, I’m glad you came in, I wanted to tell you a story.”

This story was about a tranny artist he knows who was the son of a preacher, and his father got the whole church to raise money for his kid’s sex change.

Um, can I hang out with my boss every day and be best friends?

Although he’s super cool, I can tell he’s not one to mess around, like most power gays I know. Old Massa had been here 31 years, so he was really chill. He left at 2:30pm, and didn’t stress you as long as your work got done. This was much appreciated, as I aim to take as much time as I need to pursue my (bl)ac(k)ting career. I may have to put the early departures and long lunches on hold for a bit, as New Massa gets comfortable and stops freaking out—but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make if it means we get to talk about trannies in the workplace.

Fridays With Artists

Happy Friday, y’all!! The sun is shining, my Jewboo and I made it through our first fight, and my procrastination is in full swing—it feels good to be alive.

Tonight after work is sure to be blogworthy, as I’ll be attending an awards dinner for a watercolor organization. Yes, a watercolor painting organization. For those of you who don’t know, watercolor is the painting medium that’s long been dominated by the Floridian retiree. This is my magazine's target demographic, and as the editor of the mag, it’s now my responsibility to “network with the community.” This means attending events where I’m the only brown person, and the youngest attendee by at least 35 years.

It’s kind of amazing.

After attending the opening-night show three weeks ago, I then went to an artist demonstration, where a rather fatigued old woman leaned over to me and provided color commentary throughout the demo. Her hair was a kind of orange that could only come from a box, and her lipstick was bright as a ripe mango.

I loved her—even when she talked awkwardly loudly.
Throughout the demo, cell phones rang loudly and repeatedly, as the elderly fumbled to find where the noise was coming from, then struggled to silence it. As the artist explained her materials, she mentioned her drawing tool—a negro pencil!! The blacktress bristled, and looked around and realized there were no other negroes around, so no one else seemed to care.

NEGRO PENCIL, Y’ALL!! WTF?!

Tonight’s dinner is sure to be a doozy, seeing as I received a call from one of the planners last week, asking “how you’d like to be introduced….we’ll be announcing attendees of note.” Oh my god, I’m now imagining a debutante-ball-style announcement, with me walking down a center aisle as elderly members of Caucasia provide golf claps.

Guys, I’d like you to know a few things about me:
-I don’t really like my job
(sidebar: just as I was typing the previous sentence, my boss came over to me to give me comments on my editor’s note for the next issue. Awkward Town, population ME!)
-I know very little about art, and even less about watercolor
-I’m a blacktress man, not a watercolorist (said in the voice of Doctor McCoy from Star Trek)

The amount of awkward small talk taking place tonight will be through the roof. It'll be Totes cuckoo bananas. I will try to live tweet it if I can.

How are you doing?

Marriage Material

Hey guys. What’s been going on? I feel so out of the loop. The last couple weeks have been totes cray cray, but I’m finally rejoining society—and by that, I mean, going straight home after work and hopping in bed by 10 (Sojo is old, y’all). The major stressor this past week was a friend’s bachelorette party, which somehow I got involved in planning many months ago. At that time, blacktress loved a good party, and with no job and plenty of free time, planning a bachelorette was quite appealing.
No, I’m not in the wedding party.
No, I’m not even that close with this girl. I see her roughly every four months, over a 90-minute dinner in which she often tells me I “seem so much better than last time we talked,” which I guess is supposed to be uplifting, but I don’t really pay attention because she often just gets the high (or, I guess, to be more accurate, LOW) lights over thai food.

Anyway, I digress. I’m not bitter, I swear.

Suddenly, with the bachelorette date of April 24 approaching, I had to put my money (and seriously, I mean my money) where my mouth was, making a customized recipe book that consisted of personalized notes from family, friends, and even the future German in-laws. This wasn't particularly difficult, but it was time-consuming, as I had to find a way to get it done wile doing my 9-5, trying to get my side-hustle stand-up career on, and preparing for my television debut. Needless to say, I was pretty stressed.

But Saturday came, and it was me and 7 future doctors, only one of whom wasn’t in a serious long-term relationship. I planned an evening that started at my favorite wine bar, which was only made awkward by the fact that I’m not drinking at the moment. So, there I sat, as the conversation turned to episiotomies, (click at your own risk!) drinking my mocktail, and wondering why I was destined to die alone and poor. I also made a mental note never to get admitted into a hospital.
Good times.
I then planned for us to head over to a delicious tapas restaurant, where they didn’t take reservations, but told me to just put our names down 20-30 minutes before we were ready. Of course, at that point, the place was nearly empty and the hostess told me not to worry about it. When we got there less than half-an-hour later, however, the place was packed, and we ended up waiting over an hour to sit down. As we waited, we became acquainted with two cheesy d-bags, and, in true blacktress fashion, the baggier of the d-bags took a shine to me. His name was Keith, and he looked like a cross between Andrew Dice Clay and “The Situation,” from The Jersey Shore.
Not cute.

I love "The Dice's" bedazzled vest.

He spent much of the time pestering me to have a drink and telling me I needed to “loosen up,” by which I think he meant, “drop my panties.” He then told me I looked like Kelly Rowland from “Destiny’s Child,” after explaining that his friends tell him he looks like Billy Baldwin. He really brought it home when he said,
“We’re gonna be in the tabloids tomorrow! It’ll say, ‘Billy Baldwin has a case of Jungle Fever!!!”
Um, check please!

Oh wait, it’s 10pm and I HAVEN’T EATEN YET, so I can’t get a check.

The night was quite tame, as you can probably guess from a guest list that includes 6 docs who were either coming off of, or preparing for, an overnight shift. The girls were nice, but as the Maid of Honor and co-planner put it, “they're completely sleep-deprived people, which clearly translates to functioning at a level that hovers below normal humans.”

At the end of the night, I gathered my passport and other paperwork and headed to Greenpoint, BK, to hang out with Jewboo. After being accosted by “The Dice,” it was nice to hang out with a man who respected me despite the fact that my boobs were prominently displayed. The next morning, we had brunch with two of his old friends, and I tried my best to make a swell impression. As expected, the male friend was easy to get along with, quick to laugh, and perfectly content just shooting the shit, while Jewboo’s female friend was a bit quiet and reserved, making me nearly nauseous with nerves.

After that ended, we hung out for a bit, and Jewboo and I took a nap at around 4:30pm—cause we’re classy like that. I was clearly coming off of an emotional hangover of hanging out with the “Grey’s Anatomy” extras and trying to impress bf’s friends and needed to rest. Things were all well and good until I decided to break out my first cry of the new relationship, which we all know is the first nail in the coffin. Afterwards, I wanted to crawl into a hole and die, but I consoled myself with the knowledge that it had taken me 6 weeks to break out the waterworks, which definitely constitutes growth.

As you can imagine, the blacktress has a flair for the dramatic. Part of being a successful blacktress requires an ability to “easily access” one’s emotions, which means I can cry at the drop of a hat. The story of conjoined twins separated, a moving Chris Meloni monologue on “Law & Order: SVU,” or even just a particularly deserving “America’s Next Top Model” winner can bring a tear to a blacktress’ eye.

This easy access to emotions, coupled with my deep-seated need for approval and fear of dying alone means that one sideways glance from Jewboo after hanging out with engaged girls, and I’m blubbering like an idiot, because I’ve failed in my duty gf.

See, I’ve got this twisted perception that I bring two things to the relationship table: orgasms and food. After all, that’s the only reason heterosexual relationships function, isn’t it? Men don’t want to talk about feelings, they don’t want to be challenged in any way, and they don’t really look for a “partner,” so much as easy access to both food and vag….right?
Clearly, I’m a hot mess, suffering the aftermath of an absent father figure. For those of you who are surprised, I suggest you start reading this blog from the beginning.

Anyway, things are okay now, but I spent much of yesterday waiting to be IM’d, and then caving and IM’ing him with a stupid question…because in my head I am a 17-year-old in a CW drama, and I suffer from mild autism.

Anyhoozle, I’m glad that’s all over. Going to bed at 11pm last night was awesome. I feel way more emotionally stable. And even though I haven’t received so much as a “thank you” from the bride-to-be, I don’t mind, because it helps fuel my self-righteous resentment.

I’ve missed you guys. I’ll be back with funnier blog posts soon.

THERE WILL BE A BLACKTRESS IN YOUR HOME

So, as you all know, yesterday, I did my first taping for television. What fun!!
I was interviewed by a wonderful, hilarious gay man, who happily let me rant about Celebrity bodies. As I talked, he jotted down notes and smiled encouragingly, much like a mother at her shyest child's recital. (He explained he couldn't laugh out loud because his voice wasn't supposed to be heard on the taping.)

Because I was told to wear "no white, no stripes, no logos, no busy patterns, and no green, because you'll be in front of a green screen," I rolled up in one of my finest blue dresses--you know, with just enough cleave to show I'm a lady in the street, but a freak in the bed. Even though the outfit looked great, the fabric was apparently difficult for the sound guy, who kept coming up to adjust the clip-on mic because he could hear rustling.

Quite frankly, I think he was just using it as an excuse to touch me in the boob area. He had a soul patch, and his name was Mike, and he spoke in an unnecessarily sexy voice, all smoky and low and full of deadpan. I enjoyed messing with him every time he came over to press the mic and come up with new ways to make sure it stayed put. "Are you trying to give me a mammogram, Mike? You're obvi checking for lumps."
He was so not having the blacktress' jest. I think it's cause I was the last interview of the day and they were getting sleepy.

We went through the list he'd gave me, and I had jotted down jokes, and he let me refer to them on set, which was cool. However, it really was the random off-the-cuff stuff that they liked best, such as when I referred to Matthew McConaughey as "a kind of sexy rotisserie chicken. He's always juicy and glistening and in motion, the breasts are highlighted, he's looking succulent."

They also appreciated when I totally went off on a tangent unrelated to beach bodies and explained my theory that Spencer Pratt looks like a Furby.




Srsly, do you see it??? They are both freaking me out!!!!

I left feeling good, with the producer and the makeup artist telling me I was great, and the producer saying--and I QUOTE--"I hope we can get you to do some more of this." I won't know what bits they end up using until it airs, and I won't even know the air date until it's edited, but it's scheduled for June.

Even though some things are up in the air, one thing is for certain: Even if it's just for 12 seconds, I AM GOING TO BE ON YOUR TV.

Best Pep Talk Ever

I head off to the VH1 shoot in about 30 minutes, and boy is my stomach in knots! Luckily, I have Kwalsh and JJSiii to give me the boost. I'd like to share with you their words of wisdom--perhaps you can pass it on to a friend in need:


JJSiii:You need to be in my television
Me: I want ot be in your television. As a picture-in-picture box on the lower-right corner.
JJSiii: YES, I WAS JUST THINKING THAT
I want a Sojourner-box.
Ew, that sounds wrong.
But you know what I mean.


KWalsh: you can do this
you're Hilary Swank and i'm clint eastwood
in my 'million dollar baby' scenario
go get 'em champ!
not with the tragic ending of course

With those words of encouragement, I feel strong. I feel solid. I'm ready for my close-up.
But, um, only on my left side, mmkay? That's my good side.

The Blacktress Goes Global--Fingers Crossed!!!

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Thank God It's.....Time For 16 and Pregnant!!!!

Happy Friday, Y'all!!
I've hit a new low in my levels of procrastination. I am about to spend the last hour of work watching this week's ep of "16 and Pregnant" online.
Of course, I will live-blog every moment. Let's do this.

4:35 - Lizzi's from Smithfield, "A small conservative town on the coast of Virginia." Her parents are divorced and she lives with mom, but dad's still on the scene.
"Skylar works at a thrift store and is studying to become a professional glass blower." - Way to pick a winner, sis.
"I love playing in the marching band.... maybe one day I can play in the Virginia Orchestra."

September - 5 Months Pregnant.
- Lizzie dropped out of school and is now homeschooled.
- "I live with my mom and after the initial shock, she's really excited about being a grandma" - Wow! We've got a mother who actually doesn't want to strangle her child. I guess I should be happy, but I'm kinda worried. What sort of dreams did you have for your kid if her high school pregnancy barely raises your blood pressure?

- Luckily, the dad has some sense (um, paging Dr. Phil, I think I know why these two got divorced.) "I thought you were on some kind of contraception," he says, like a rational human being who expected more for his child.

Mom explains: "She was until it came time to have the yearly check up, but she refused to go because she didn't want to have the gynecological exam." - What?! You'll let some dude who works at a thrift store diddle your fiddle, but you won't let a medical professional check under the hood?! You gotta make sure the brakes are working before you take the car for a drive, girl!!!

"I wanted four kids - I'm just going to space them out more now."
"I hope bring pregnant doesn't get in the way of my dreams, cause I've got a lot of plans." - Oh, Lizzie, boo bear, didn't you see season 1?

- Skylar's moving in with Lizzie and her mom and they're turning the spare room into a nursery. - Ooh--look--unlike Leah from last week, they have paint!
(oh god, what's happening to my priorities? I think this show has skewed my perceptions of what constitutes success and happiness.)

- "Are you gonna teach our kid glass blowing?" Way to lift up the next generation, kids.
- "I don't miss public school that much, except I miss my band friends." She and her band homegirl go get pedicures--wow, they are both really blonde and bright-eyed. I guess in Virginia, band girls aren't geeks

Lizzie to her friend: "Do you think I'm ready to be a mom?"
- "Of course!"
Why would her friend lie to her like that? Maybe it's nail polish fumes.

4:43 - They're having a girl, and they're naming her summer! Oh, so sweet. I hope they don't spell it some fucked up way like the rest of the girls. Something cray-cray like, "Somemur"

4:44 - Lizzie's latest delusion: "Everyone thinks I'm going to have to give something up. I'm sure I can play in the Viginia orchestra and still be a mom."
[Oh, I love watching online--no commercial. But it's harder to keep up!]

4:45 - 25 Weeks Pregnant
They go pumpkin picking. "I'm just worried about the money cause you're the only one that's working." - Homeboy works part-time at the thrift store, what did you expect?!

Lizzie practices her flute in her bedroom at home. Cut to Skylar playing terrifying war-like paintball in the Virginia fields.
This is a match made in heaven.

4:46 - Skylar tells his boys he's thinking of proposing to Lizzie! What?! They've been together 8 months. Good lord, why do they feel the need to make one problem even worst?
4:47 - Jessica and Jackie come by in their homecoming dresses. She shows them the dress she would have worn if she wasn't knocked up.
"Don't get pregnant," Lizzie yells after them. HAHA!! Good girl.

"Since I'm not a public school student, I'm missing out on the harvest parade." - Wow, I love how in VA, public school is the total opposite of the way it is in other places --it actually OPENS UP doors. Without public school, you've got nothing.
"I guess parades aren't as fun when you're standing on the sidelines....it really sucked not marching with the band in the parade yesterday."
When were parades ever fun? I mean, besides Gay Pride.

4:49 - Skylar goes to Dad Rick's house to ask for Lizzie's hand in marriage.
"I'm in no hurry for you guys to get married. I'd hate to feel that you think that you have to get married just because you have a child."

I love Rick!!! He is bringing TRUTH to the table. He is totally making me rethink my hatred of men with mustaches. Perhaps his facial hair is where he keeps his wisdom.

4:50 - December, 30 Weeks Pregnant
- Lizzie has no eyebrows, and it's making me uncomfortable.

- "I knew we'd be together, cause I wanted you, and I got you, and I get what I want."
Um, Okay, Lizzie, you're so cool and badass.....and throwing away your LIFE!!!!!
- Skylar's going with his dad to pick up a ring--in a pawn shop, it seems. How can you pick up a ring in a place with guitars on one wall and guns on the other?
- Skylar is taking Lizzie out to dinner at her favorite restaurant - CRAB SHACK!!!!
HIS IS AMAZING.
- I love how their conversations just consist of asking each other questions about how they felt, will feel, and feel now. "Did you think we'd be together this long?"
4:53 - AAAHHHH, Skylar is getting down on one knee!!! He proposed.
"Yes" [she laughs] "You make me giggle."
Um, really? She's such a
4:54 - Lizzie's with her friends getting food. There's one random black boy with 5 white girls. I really hope he's the group gay.
4:55 - "I'm excited because I have the perfect boy, and the perfect ring, and I can't wait to have the perfect baby."
Ew, she's soooooo silly. She thinks love is all sunshine and flowers. She doesn't have a high school education, he probably earns $10/hour, and she has no job prospects and will live with her mother for the rest of her life. Ok, I'm glad she's up-beat and doesn't hate herself, but I do not watch this show to get behind teen pregnancy, people. I'm gonna need her to change her tune real quick.
4:57 - "I never though I'd be wearing an engagement ring at 17--I thought it'd just be my belly ring." - I can't believe this is real.
She inserts the belly ring that just arrived. Inserts it into the button of her pregnant belly. Nothing about this is cute.
4:58 - BABY SHOWER AT SKYLAR'S HOUSE!!!
They get some pretty cool swag. This may be kinda classy.
Oh, wait, they broke out a cake with photos of Lizzie and Skylar as babies. I retract that previous statement.
4:59 - Lizzie's dad makes an announcement. Lizzie has graduated home school and is getting her diploma!
She doesn't seem to be very excited.

5:00 - Uh-oh, some texts are going around saying that Skylar cheated on Lizzie with Krista!
Oh my god, why is every single girl in this town blonde? Like, platinum, "Children of the Corn" type of blonde.
5:01 - Lizzie confronts Skylar about it, and he comes clean!
- "I made a mistake a little while ago...."
OH SNAP!!! TRUTH COMES OUT!

- "It makes me feel stupid, and self-conscious, like it's my fault. Like something I did led you to do that." - Um, Lizzie, you're interpreting this all wrong. You're not stupid for not knowing your man cheated on you. You're stupid for not going to the gyno for your yearly exam so you could get more birth control.

5:10 (Okay, I could go home now, but I'm too sucked into this episode. I just had to pause it to say bye to a coworker, and I realized I should be living a life, but I can't not find out how Lizzie and Skylar handle his infidelity)
- January, 35 Weeks Pregnant
Skylar's out of the house. "I took all his stuff and put it in a box. I don't know, my room got de-Skylar-ized." Hello, grammar humor--someone's graduated home school!!
- "To keep my mind off Skylar, I've been focusing on college...I've decided to put my dreams of playing in the orchestra on hold to go for a stable job as an ultrasound technician."
- She goes to a college counselor to find out what she'll have to do - shit ain't easy!!!
- Now she's willing to give Skylar a second chance -- she knows she can't do this solo (maybe she did watch last week's episode). They're back together, but she's not gonna put her ring back on.

5:15 - 37 Weeks Pregnant - LABOR TIME!
- Lizzie's being relatively calm. It seems like the labor didn't take too long, and Lizzie barely even broke a sweat.
- Now she's breastfeeding. "It's taken an hour, and I haven't been able to eat my food." Um, Lizzie, get used to not being able to do basic things for yourself. "I'm determined to breastfeed, because it's cheaper than formula."
- 2 Days Old - discharged from the hospital!
- 2 Weeks Old. Lizzie's over breastfeeding, and has switched to formula. Way to stick it out, champion!
- They're reeling over the expense of diapers and formula.

5:20 - 3 Weeks Old.
"Tomorrow's my first day back at school and I really need to sleep, but Summer's still not sleeping through the night, which means neither am I." - Um, "still?" She's only 3 weeks old. What on earth did you think would happen?
5:22 - Leah's staring over Summer's crib with her pale skin and jet-black eyeliner. I'm not even a baby, and I'm terrified.
- Aw, Lizzie and Skylar are kinda cute. I love when the teen dads are present.
5:25 - Lizzie's decided to drop out of school. Wow, Summer's not even 4 weeks old. How quickly we flip the script.
5:27 - I love the commercial MTV includes in each episode now: "Teen Pregnancy is 100% preventable. Learn how." Basically, they're saying "These girls are dumb."

5:27 - Lizzie goes to school to drop classes. The registrar tries to persuade her to just put them on hold, or hold off on one. Nope, she won't do it. She's gonna take a 6-week course in medical billing.

5:28 - She goes to tell her Dad, and again, Rick speaks truth and Lizzie CAN'T HANDLE IT!
She's so short-tempered with him, and so smart-assed. I mean, of course, she's a 17-year-old girl who thinks she knows everything, but she's not exactly living the dream and fine on her own. She needs to listen to Rick.

5:30 - Skylar and Lizzie go for a walk, and Lizzie asks him questions about his emotions and tell him what a great dad he is.

Ooooh, wrap up!!
"I had big dreams...but I found out I was pregnant and that dream kind of died...I'm not going to college anymore, I'm not going into music anymore, I'm probably going to be at home longer. It's bummed me out, but then I think of Summer and realize being a mom is better than going out and having fun."
Um, it's not just "having fun," Lizzie - College is learning about yourself, expanding your horizons, and giving yourself the best life you can.

Ugh, okay, at least she's working and her mother isn't trying to cut her, and her baby daddy knows how to change a diaper.

How on earth did procrastinating end up with me staying at work after 5:30 on a Friday? It seems I may not have been as clever as I thought.