*That's Swahili for "What's the news?" It's the "traditional" greeting on each day of Kwanzaa--which is Swahili for "After-Christmas sales."
Today is UMOJA which means unity. On this, the first day of Kwanzaa, we seek to promote unity in the family, community, nation, and race.
Umoja has been a part of AfAm culture for as long as I can remember. Take, for instance, the popular Queen Latifah song U.M.O.J.A., Bob Marley's "One Love," or the ultimate togetherness party anthem, Sister Sledge's "We are Family." If it's still not resonating after that list of songs, I suggest you work on fostering umoja in your life, starting today. Here are a few suggestions:
If you're Caucasian, invite a bunch of friends out for a walk on a weekend afternoon. I learned a few weeks ago that Caucasians love a crisp, sunny day. (Seriously, I was the only person of color on Columbus Avenue from 81st - 97th street.)
Become a fan of the brand-nubian Facebook fan page Blacktress Comedy. By clicking "Like," you're actually umoja-ing with other like-minded folks and supporting my truths!
Next time you're in a group of folks that you don't really know, mention the Kardashians (any of them) and wait for the resounding chorus of groans as people enumerate the reasons why that family is a sign of the apocalypse.
Rent the film Teen Witch and invite some gals and gays over for a viewing party. By the time the number "I Like Boys" starts to play, you'll all be new bffs!
When you're hanging out with someone who you really want to be besties with, just agree with everything they say. You guys will be so umoja-ed, it'll be like you're siamese.
Hope this helps you bring a little Kwanzaa into your day! I'll be back with more tips tomorrow!
Wow, people are really upping the bitchiness quotient this year. I’ve already received three pieces of hate mail about the latest issue of my magazine and it hasn’t even hit newsstands yet!
I have been taking art classes and I subscribed to your magazine. I just wanted to let you know that I will not be renewing my subscription because most of the paintings in your magazine are so dark and dreary. They are depressing to look at as a whole. After more than a year of hope and anticipation for each issue, I am consistently very dissapointed in each issue. There is also not enough instruction or help in learning to paint in watercolor. Just wanted to let you know why I am not renewing.
Claire
From: A mean person [mailto:Mykidsdon’tcallme@yahoo.com] Sent: Sun 12/18/2011 7:35 PM Subject: magazine
what in the world is going on with your magazine -- who hired that editor???? was it some kind of experiment...let's give the job to someone who doesn't know a single thing about the subject?? everybody now seems to be aware of this, for a while i thought it was just me. she has to be destroying the credibility of the publication. i, for one, will not be renewing. thank you.
Who's everyone? Has she been reading my blog? I don't think it's a coincidence that this comes right on the heels of my pic appearing in the editor's note--now that they know a young blacktress is runnin' thangs, they can send their hate with reckless abandon???
Man, the passive aggression is out of this world. It’s a real buzz-kill, especially since I’d planned to discuss the “John Waters Christmas” show I saw on Monday night.
Yes, you read that right—a John Waters Christmas.
For more than an hour, the brilliant and twisted J-Dubs discussed all of his favorite Christmas things—and the gifts he hoped to receive. He opened with how much he loved Justin Bieber, and suggested he serve as the bait for a special Christmas episode of “To Catch a Predator.”
“Oh, that hair! It's like a siren song. Just put him on park benches across the country and keep loadin’ up the vans!”
He also coined a great new phrase to describe one of many “gay Christmas miracles”: BLOUSE.
As in, “Ugh, that guy is being such a blouse—you know, a feminine top.”
I also love that he railed against hairless women (in one of his many rants about porn videos). "We fought for the right to show bush and now there's none to be seen! Their down-theres look like my mustache."
I wish I could wrap him and put him under my tree.
Speaking of colonialism (see the previous post)....
A recent article in The Daily Mail profiles a British teen who is not fucking around when it comes to Christmas.
Mekeeda Austin's mother found the following letter in her 13-year-old daughter's backpack:
AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
I think what really takes it over the edge--you know, after the threat to kill, cook, and serve up Santa's reindeer--is her smiley-face and 'xoxo' signature. This chick is cray.
I'm not exactly sure how this made the local news, though. Did the mom call someone? Did the girl post it on her FB page? How did it get from her backpack to TheDaily Mail?
I mean, if they're going to run a human-interest story, they should really focus on the news-worthy part--her hot-mess mom, Tracey:
[H]er mother Tracey, 40, is not punishing her for the letter and has vowed to meet her daughter's demands saying: 'You don't want to get on the wrong side of Mekeeda.
'When I first found the letter I thought it was funny, now I think I better get her what she wants, the last thing I want is for her to kill Santa. 'I know it sounds like she is spoilt but I like to get my daughter what she wants also you don't want to get on the wrong side of her.'"
Is she telling us her daughter is a sociopath and her life is being threatened on a regular basis? I mean, considering this is the opening pic in the article, I wouldn't be surprised.
AAAAHHHH!!!!
Tracy is described as a "stay-at-home mother," which I can't imagine being particularly lucrative (there's no mention of another parent/head of household). Although she admits that Mekeeda "will probably lose the Blackberry," she's still going to get it for her. Why doesn't she get her some spinning gold rims while she's at it? I think her money would be better spent on a year of therapy (for both of them), don't you? #whyI'mneverhavingkids
Location: Office. Massa shows us pictures from his recent trip to a painting workshop that took place in a rich woman's mansion. As he goes through the slideshow, he stops on a student's canvas--he's painting a portrait of a black man.
Me: Who’s that black person? Massa: What? Who? That’s Stevie—he works there. [I give a look—you know, the sassy-over-the-glasses look. Massa looks up from his photos and notices.] Massa: Oh, stop it—he’s like one of the family! He’s worked there since he was five! Me: Five year olds don’t work!!!
****
Location: Duane Reade drugstore. I’m picking up a present for the “Yankee Swap” during today’s holiday lunch (more on that later). I walk up to the cashier with this item:
The woman in the line next to me--a short, older black woman purchasing a few packs of Kools--starts chatting:
Random: Aw, that’s so cute. I want that. [I have no idea what to say, so I just laugh lightly, assuming it was a joke.] Random: Is that a present? Me: It’s for a coworker. Random: That is so sweet. I want that. [She reads the box] Baby Bella. She so cute. I want her to sleep with me. I’d kick my husband out the bed, and it’d be me and Baby Bella.
Why are people so cray?
Okay, back to this Yankee swap thing. I'm really annoyed by it. All I know about Yankee swap is what I saw on that episode of The Office, when people's awesome presents kept getting traded and everyone was mad. I'm not clear on why I would spend money on something that someone might not even want. What kind of sense does that make? This seems to be a classic case of WPS--Wealthy People Shit. I don't really like to go around claiming WPS--not like my coworkers are rolling in dough. But only someone without an understanding of the economic climate and an employee's need to fund dreams would suggest I "spend $20 on a little something. the stupider the better, cause then everyone can try to get rid of it."
Why would I want to act like an absentee Dad?
I think Scribe put it best--and makes the Gchat Quote of the Day--when she writes:
Yankee swap is white elephant and should only be played among friends. It's straight colonialism. You're like, "Ooh you got a cool gift; let me take it because I can.
I played that on the plantation and this Jewish girl took my book on black art. Everyone said, 'She's Jewish, she had to get rid of the ornaments she got.' Um, I'm a heathen--what am I gonna do with ornaments? And she sat there in her Obama shirt, so happy with her book on black art.
TRUTH.
So Baby Bella it is. She was $6.99 and can easily be re-gifted to a kindergartener.
So, as you know, I lack sufficient funds to further my dreams. One of the main issues I'm running up against is the feedback that my headshot isn't very good. I can't really afford to get new ones, so in the interim I've gone back through the archives to find other doable shots. Here are a few of the ones that are decent contenders. PLEEEAAASSSSEEEEE tell me which one you like best and why. Put yourself in the mind of a casting director and think, "Would I want to bring this girl into my office based on the pic alone?"
As always, you guys keep me right-sized and willing to live. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts!
xoxo,
blacktress!!
Option 1
Are my eyes looking a bit too bright? They've been retouched.
Option 2
I look like I'm trying to woo a sailor on leave.
Option 3
I'm looking a bit too busty here--I mean, nothing wrong with the bust, but I think I may disappoint in person.
On Saturday, December 10, my expulsion from my mother's uterus--and my singular relationship with my "Coyote Average" co-host Katie East--was honored in the form of a poem. This poem was written by Hardcore Boris a gifted performer who I think, after hearing this opus, I can now refer to as "a dear friend." Never before has someone seen into the core of me and captured the magic of my relationship with a Caucraysian. I must share this with you now, gentle readers:
We're here to celebrate two people's birthdays tonight One is black and the other is white the black one's in a relationship and feelin fine The white one is single, drinkin all the time The white one's always hangin out back at her crib The black one's always sayin "'I'm getting too old for this shit.'" They're both workin in the same profession Gaining life experience, learning valuable lessons all the white one really needs is a caring lover The white one's played by Mel Gibson, the black one by Danny Glover Two human beings, you could call it a dream team Gunnin it, runnin this well-oiled machine
I’m typing this post while waiting for the Time Warner Cable employee to come back from putting me on hold. That’s how long we’ve been doing this. I mean, I’m cool with it. It’s gotten so ridiculous that when he asked if he could put me on hold, I told him to “grab a sammie, drop the kids off at the pool, whatever. We’re really just hanging out at this point.”
So, I think my birthday can be best summed up by this ecard from my mom:
You and me both, girl.
I must say, I'm glad the birthday is over--Although I did have a tender evening with Jewboo, complete with cupcakes and compromise. We’re thinking Brooklyn for a year or so and then back to Harlem once it’s all renovated and fit for a new couple to make a life. See, I figure once the lines are clearly drawn—and mounted in the form of walls—the lines between mom and I will be equally clear and strong. I don’t know if that made sense, but I think you feel me.
Ugh, I haven’t posted in so long, I don’t even know where to begin. There’s been so much to discuss. I guess I’ll stick to highlights:
My boss keeps referring to everything as “gay-cute” and it’s getting weird. He’s constantly brainstorming new ideas and starts with, “you know what would be really gay-cute? If we had, like, a ‘best of’ section.’ What?
He’s also taken to calling me “Black Barbie” whenever I wear a ponytail. Of course, in glasses and a ponytail, I think I look like the nerdy girl before the makeover in every 80s movie. Massa then explained, “No! Do you know what the most coveted Barbie is? Black Barbie, no bangs. She’s, like, $5,000.” Apparently, I am a high-end lady.
Of course, I’ll take any excuse to post the “Black Barbie” music video:
I don’t know if you guys know this already, but I have a wife. Her name is Meara and she is wonderful. She recently scored free tickets to previews of Lysistrata Jones on Broadway and invited a blacktress. We’d heard negative reviews of the show, but that didn’t stop our excitement of being in the fourth row of the orchestra. Once it got underway, we realized that everyone we know who has opinions is wrong. The show was really, really funny. Like, actual funny and not comedy-of-manners type of funny.
It was a bit too cartoony and self-referential at times, but the actors had great comedic timing in addition to all their NYU BFA training. Oh yeah, and everyone was really, really attractive. There was a lot of sexuality. Basically, by the end, the show made me wanna do 500 crunches and make out with a girl. Favorite line: “Oh my god / it’s a sexual jihad.” Of course, it was made better by the fact that it was sung by a rotund black woman (a show can have no gravitas without one).
There was even a relationship between a strong black woman and a nerdy Jewish boy!!! Guys, the blacktress’ story is on Broadway. The show was irreverent (best critic word ever) and ridiculous. I do think, though, that it can be hard for theatah enthusiasts to see something so sassy, sexy, and silly going for $100 a seat (and perhaps if I’d paid for it, I’d be singing a different tune). But it’s also just nice to see something original and sharp that has memorable songs and great performances. Plus, there was a hot Asian and tons of interracial love.
And here's a new soon-to-be series-- Gchat Quote of the Day!
Litsa:My mother has suggested an officiant who is a gay Jew who also was a cross-dresser when I was a child.
