Sharing the Love

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

You know that feeling when someone just gets you?

An Older, Bloggier Blacktress

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.

Should I be offended?

Home is where the Heart Jewboo Is

Hey friends!

How's your day going? I'm actually on a up-swing, largely because of baked goods. Wednesday is my birthday, which always gets me in a mood (What do I have to show for myself????). A need for a quick lunch led me to Hale & Hearty Soups at about 2pm, when I was ravenous. A need to stop feeling crappy led me to exit Hale & Hearty and hit the Crumbs right next door.

As I walked back to my office with an Oreo cupcake, I tried to rationalize my lunch decision. When I reached my desk, however, there was already a package from Crumbs waiting for me!!!! My coworker had gotten me an early birthday gift! Clearly, I was meant to eat a cupcake today. I feel like the world is on my side.

In other news: There have been intense happenings with Jewboo. Of course, since the blog has ceased to be a safe space for my emotions and dramatizations, I've had to confide in my main gay via gchat. But obvi I can't keep anything to myself for too long, so I must share the transcript.


me: THIS JUST IN:
JJSiii:!!!
me: From Jewboo at 9:53am:
Hey dear, now that my job situation is taken care of, maybe we can now start discussing seriously moving in together? How does that strike you? Just wanted to float that out there.
JJSiii: I assume this is a good thing?
me: Yes! While visiting his parents, we even took a quick gander at RINGS.
JJSiii: RINGS? STOP IT. I HAVE BEEN OUT OF YOUR GCHAT LIFE FOR TOO LONG.
me: SERIOUSLY.
We were visiting the parents and we went to the mall
and he went into video game store and i went into one of those shops--like, Kay Jewelers or something--cause that's my idea of true romance.
and then he met me there and we looked for, like, 15 minutes together
I TRIED THINGS ON
JJSiii: oh my gosh, oh my gosh.
Shit is serious. I'm, like, planning your wedding in my head.
By planning it, I mean that I'm thinking about how much I want to be at it.
JJSiii: EVEN THOUGH I'VE NEVER IRL MET THIS MAN.
me: YOU MAY BE GIVING ME AWAY
you know i need one of my main gays to give me away
JJSiii: OH MY GOSH, OH MY GOSH.
This is such a caps-lock occasion.
I'm basically fanning my non-existent Cindy Lou Va-Who-Who, because this news makes me WET WITH EXCITEMENT.

So, as you can see, there's a lot happening. Of course, there is no proposal on the horizon BUT we are talking about cohabitation, which is more than enough ch-ch-change for one decade. Of course, the big issue is Harlem vs. Brooklyn, and you know where I stand.

Really, guys, my aversion to Brooklyn isn't my fault--it's in my blood. Before I was born, my mom and dad lived in Brooklyn and when my mom was pregnant she planned to have me at Harlem Hospital, cause it was way better than the BK hospitals at the time. Can you imagine a woman with her water broken hopping in a cab, saying, "Get me to Harlem, stat!"

Clearly, this was before the days when cab drivers profiled.

As luck would have it, I was born a few weeks early, just when my mom was having a follow-up appointment with her doctor. When she hopped off the exam table her water broke and I came out a few hours later. I knew we couldn't wait until returning to BK.

The main issue is that I am living in a ridiculously large place in the heart of Manhattan. I'm beyond lucky and I don't think it's smart to abandon prime real estate I'd never be able to afford otherwise in a city that everyone wants to be in.
Jewboo's reasoning is that the Harlem house comes with substantial mama drama, and he doesn't want to be subjected to it--or, even worse, in the middle of the two of us.
And I get that. Most people who come over for a meal start talking about moving in; Jewboo isn't just going with what's easiest or trying to take advantage, which I respect. Plus, I'm done with being under my mom's thumb, too, and there is a lot of pride I have to swallow in order to be where I am. But....
Mama didn't raise no fool. You don't cast off a brownstone for a shoebox when you're increasing your household size. Me + Jewboo + 2 cats + all of our creative endeavors which would make great use of extra rooms as offices and rehearsal spaces = sucking it up and taking advantage of a sweet deal. Perhaps it's because Jewboo has never really seen himself as a "have not" and knows nothing of NYC besides expensive shoeboxes, so he's not really hung up on it. I think our standards directly relate to our expectations, and I will be the first to admit that I am spoiled when it comes to accommodations. Besides, the idea of moving every 2 years as you inevitably outgrow the space (after all, our Emmy collection will take up most of the shelves) isn't appealing.

Plus, I must say I'd love it if those two cats had a special closet for their litter box--you gotta confine that smell, people. I'm not trying to come home to the smell of "Not-so-Fresh Step." Of course, this is a totally luxury "problem," but if it's possible, why would you live any other way?

Then again, as we start a new phase of our relationship, it would be nice to start fresh, in a newtral space. And I'd love to be able to decorate and start from scratch and build a place together--and not have my mother popping over whenever she felt like it, ragging on how badly I maintain a house, like a demeaning Steve Urkel.

I don't know. I love the boy and definitely want him to be my forever friend, but I also don't believe in oppressing myself if I don't have to or denying myself a luxury simply because there are a few strings attached. I mean, there are always strings attached to stuff. It seems like it's more beneficial to work on establishing boundaries with mom than it is to abandon the Harlem house--wouldn't you say it's throwing the baby out with the bathwater?

Your comments/suggestions would be much appreciated. Perhaps you can help me frame it in a way that a Jewboo can understand.

My Soon-to-be New Favorite Show!

Part of pursuing my blackting dreams involves submitting my headshot and resume for various roles that are being cast. I'm registered with one site that sends me alerts based on my background/look. Unfortunately, it seems that they don't think very highly of me. I just got sent the following breakdown that was "Fit for ME!"

Project Type: Documentary Series

SEEKING: PEOPLE WHO ACT LIKE ANIMALS

Do you have a primal animal behavior?
New series looking for people who act as if they are animals. Do you have awkward pets* that you have relationships with (non sexual)? Do you live on a raw meat diet, on road kill or squirrels? Have you transformed your life to be more like an animal? Do you have an owner?

Some of the stories we've looked into:

FOOD
Tim's pets are his best friends. Throughout the years, he's grown to envy their simple lives, and as a way to develop a deeper connection with them, he's begun sharing their dinner on the floor. He feels that the line between master and pet is arbitrary,^ and that we can all learn a lot from our humble companions.

DOG HOUSE
Tim is an ex-addict who was kicked out of his parent's house as a teenager. For years, he lived in various backyard doghouses for shelter, moving to find a new one whenever the homeowners became suspicious. Now that he's gotten clean, his sister has allowed him to move in with her but he still insists on living in a doghouse in her backyard. He feels safe in the small space with the creatures that never rejected him.

INNER WOLF
Tina saw dead wolves on the side of the road growing up.* As it traumatized her, it has been the one animal that she feels most connected to. Ergo, Julie has adopted extreme wolf traits in her life such as leaving at dusk to scale the mountains of Moab to howl in the wind. Julie doesn't eat what others serve for dinner, she likes her raw steak sinking her teeth and devouring just as wolves do. Julie also sleeps in her wolf bed** outside the home.

LEECH LIFE
Tillie enjoys having pet leeches, but more importantly she loves the feeling she gets when she puts them on her skin, allowing them to feed. Sarah and her partner Michael take turns feeding the leeches two times every day. Loving her leeches, Sarah wouldn't want to have any other pet.

We are interested in trying to understand any unique animal or primal behavior!

What about this made them think of me? I don't even have the world "animal" listed on my resume. The whole, "do you have an owner?" question has so much racist innuendo, I may have to discuss with the website. Of course, my confusion was quickly eclipsed by the fact that this is a new show in production that I can't wait to watch on the regular. Guys, this is like Animal Hoarders + Fatal Attractions + Intervention + My Strange Addiction wrapped in a flour tortilla!!! Set your DVRs for EVERY DAY FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE.

*I love the idea of an "awkward pet"--I picture a ferret that just stares at one corner of a room all day.

^Arbitrary?! You know this man is CauCRAYsian.

*Wait, like, were these regular occurrences, or was it just this one time at band camp?

**What is a "wolf bed"--if there's one thing that isn't animal-like, it's having furniture of any kind.

Like Looking Into a Mirror! (If I was one of these people)

Hey gang,

Sorry I’ve been so slack with the bloggery—the bloating and fatigue of Thanksgiving has finally worn off, leaving me with the lightness and confidence to blog. Not that I’m not a huge tryptoFAN, but enough was enough, you know?

So, I was watching the movie HANNA over the holiday weekend and I must say, I was kind of into it. That Saoirse Ronan is a real spitfire and even though she’s not even legal, she’s proving to be a real karma chameleon as an actress. I was, however, distracted for much of the film because I couldn’t look at Saoirse without thinking, “Oh, look at baby Anne Heche, fighting for her life.” THEY ARE IDENTICAL, guys:

This, of course, got me thinking about other twin celebs (anything to avoid pursuing my dreams, guys!). I thought I'd share a few of them with you now:

Happy Food Day, Guys!!!

This is definitely my favorite day of the year. As you all know, I used to drink to feel pretty and now eat to feel nothing. Thanksgiving Day is a nationally sanctioned day of eating one's feelings under the guise of celebration and gratitude. Clearly this is my time to shine.

See, the key to a successful Thanksgiving is pacing and preparedness. Many people think that starving until meal time is the best way to get the most out of it--rookie mistake. When you don't eat all day, your stomach contracts and your metabolism stays at it's sleeping rate, making mass consumption of delicious foods difficult. You've got to eat little light bits throughout the day leading up to the meal.

Of course, I'm all for cleansing the day before, as it helps the body prepare to take in copious amounts of carbs. Last night, we enjoyed a light dinner of shrimp & avocado over mixed greens--the right amount of roughage and good fats to center the body, but nothing heavy that couldn't be expelled rapidly.

So, here it is, the big day. The time is now 9:48am. Food won't be ready until 3pm at the earliest. I can't sit here all day, smelling the smells and promising myself I'll "go to town on that apple tart" when my stomach is the size of a toddler's fist! I must start off with a simple breakfast, just to get the body ready; Coax it out of slumber and prepare it for domination at the dinner table. I'll start with a fiber-rich cereal and perhaps a yogurt. After watching a motion picture, I'll likely follow up with some squats, push ups, and fruit. By that time, I will be called into the kitchen to prepare the sides that only I know how to make. This is when I'll have to maintain a steely resolve and not waste calories on taste tests.

As you can see, I'm serious about this.

I'm spending the day with mom and her latin lover, then heading to PA tomorrow to visit the Jewboo's fam. Although they invited me for the holiday, I couldn't pass up our Southern-influenced side dishes for who knows what in suburban Pennsylvania. When I tried to explain this to Jewboo, he looked at me like I was crazy. "You think the food won't be good at our family friend's house?"

No, that's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is, I get one day a year to eat stuffing, yams, and macaroni and cheese on the same plate, and I'm not losing it to have some roasted potatoes or green bean casserole. Besides, Jewboo is a vegetarian and really weight-conscious, which not only impairs his judgement but also makes him a real buzz-kill on a day like today (but I still love him!). I need to be able to spend the day in drawstring sweatpants and no shoes, not eating daintily so as not to embarrass myself in front of my potential in-laws. I owe it to us both to show up to Pennsylvania with a full belly and high blood pressure, just so the weekend can be relaxed.

I'm feeling a bit anxious, as I woke up to the sounds of arguing and had flashbacks to my youth. I was already on the brink as of last night, when my mother told me that people would probably think I'm a pedophile if I kept offering to babysit their kids. So, you know, I'm dealing with that.

Hope you're having/had a great Food Day!

xoxo,
blacktress!

There's Something About A Blacktress?

You guys know how I regularly attract randoms, right? Whether it's a random Southern gent in alphabet city or an Australian mafia member, there's just something about a blacktress that brings out the inappropriateness in people. Last week, while dining at one of my favorite restaurants with my mom, I realized that it just might be genetic.

After we ordered, I went to the bathroom to wash my hands (because I'm convinced everyone on the subway has bedbugs and Hepatitis A - Z). When I returned, the waitress--a 40-something Asian woman with long black hair and a paisley print top--came over to our table.

Waitress: Ooooh, look at you, big girl!

I looked at my mother, who was just sipping her soda and trying not to laugh.

Waitress: How old are you now? You're such a big girl!

Why is she talking to me like I'm 5 years old and we've somehow met before?

Me: I'm 27.

Waitress [incredulous]: What?! No! You look so young. That's good. Such good skin. Oh, I see your sushi! (she leaves to go get it)

I made a 'WTF?' face to my mother.

Mom [in her library voice, leaning close]: When you were in the bathroom she came up to me and started talking. She told me she had a black daughter who was, "good, with a lot of energy--cause of her Jamaican blood. She's not quiet, like Asian girls."

Me: What?! I left you alone for 90 seconds, mother. How could this happen?

Mom: I don't know. People just come up to me and say things. I have a face that says, "I won't attack you if you decide to share."

Me: Ugh, so I have you to blame. When I was inside Caucasia, they thought I was their Oprah figure or something.

Waitress [sets sushi on the table]: I can't believe it, you're 27! Mom, you so young. Me, I started late. My daughter's 7 years old. I'm 47. But she is a good girl, like you. My husband, he's from Jamaica--not Queens. Jamaica Jamaica.

[We didn't know what to do while this was going on. We wanted to eat our sushi but she was standing over us and it felt awkward.]

Why am I telling you this? Well, because I just got off the phone with my credit card company (gotta pay some billz!) and it seems that even my phone voice inspires randoms to overshare. Customer service rep "Ken" would not stop with the yackity yakkkking!

Ken: Your last name...what region in that from?
Me: It's Nigerian.
Ken: Ooooh, you're Nigerian. That's good. This is the Kansas office you're calling now. I went to KU and even though I'm from the US Virgin Islands, with my accent, they let me into the international students club. I had a lot of African friends--their last names were hard to pronounce. I said, I said, 'Can I call you a short 3-letter name instead?'
Me: ha ha ha?
Ken: Yeah, the Nigerians had some of the hardest names. ... I have a lot of Ethiopian friends, too. They spoke...Amharic.
Me: Don't know it.
[Ken then proceeds to recite every number and letter of my name and address as he types it. Ugh, this guy couldn't just sit in silence for a second???]
Ken: You live in New York?
Me: Yes

[Fuck, Ken is going to steal my personal information and show up at my doorstep.]

Ken: New York is the meeting place for every. culture. in. da. worl....

(that's not a typo--he didn't pronounce the 'd'.)
(he laughs lazily, like he's just gotten high and is watching a cartoon.)

Me: Ha ha ha?

Ken: Like the coastes [yes, that was his plural of coasts.] I was down in Miami one time--it didn't feel like America. It felt like Mexico and Cuba. And in California, there were so many street names in Spanish--it was really....interesting and unique....

[I say nothing. I'm just really hoping my payment will go through so I can get off the phone.]
Ken: I like a lot of world cultures.

[I continue to say nothing. Clearly, this man will take a mile so I can't even be polite.]

Ken: Okay, I'm waiting for the system to process....to process...to process......... OK, your payment went through.
Me: Thank you!
Ken: Have a great day--maybe I'll see you in New York City!
Me: AAAAHHHH!
I hang up.

Guys, I may have a stalker who works for Chase. I'm gonna have to get some Occupiers to protect me.