All the Randomness That's Fit to Print!

Can you believe it’s only Wednesday? I’ve been one day ahead all week and it’s just—to take a phrase from an 80s movie—bumming me out. I haven’t slept more than 4 hours a night in the last week, so I don’t really have a through-line. Here are some thangs I been thinkin’ ‘bout. Feel free to take what works and leave the rest:

• “What? I don’t know. I don’t…care. I’m doing something else right now.” ~ Me, to my coworker.

This happened before 12pm today, guys. I’m so worn down that I can’t even fake it til I make it (off the plantation)! He was showing me some event invitation that’s not going to take place until February 6—why would I be thinkin’ about a work function on February 6 when I can’t even figure out how I’m gonna do my 8-minute set tonight? Bitch, please!

• I read in a ¼-page “article” in US Weekly that Janet Hubert—aka Fresh Prince of Bel Air’s Aunt Viv verison 1.0—is angrier than Regina George when she found out those chocolate bars weren't for weight loss.

Janet recently told TMZ, “There will never be a reunion… as I will never do anything with an asshole like Will Smith. … He is still an egomaniac and has not grown up. This constant reunion thing with never ever happen in my lifetime unless there is an apology, which he doesn’t know the word.”

Y’all, I know where Aunt Viv is coming from. I mean, not personally—I’m sure Will Smith is a peach—but blacktress definitely knows how to hold on to some old ish. I mean, take for instance today’s random run-in at Cosi: I saw a high school classmate standing in line as I was paying. It was kinda cray because she was someone I haven't seen since 2001 and I had just been thinking about her two days ago. (You know, the whole “Why hasn’t Facebook suggested we be friends?” thing) I got excited and wanted to go say hello, but stopped myself. She looked exactly the same--except with diamond earrings, a long, grown-up-lady coat with a fur-lined collar, a pedicure and sensible slacks. I, on the other hand, had dried snot on my nose and had only stopped crying 10 minutes earlier. Although Lord knows it wouldn’t have been much of a difference from high school, I couldn't introduce myself like that. After all, I have to prove to these high school folks that I'm not a loser!

Like Janet Hubert, the resentment I feel from 15 years ago still influences me today. But unlike Janet Hubert, I will not spend my 40s and 50s living in anger. I mean, look what Janet could do when she put her mind to it:


Talk about young, gifted, and black!

• In other news: Move over, Vajazzling—Vattooing is coming for ya!

Yes, this is a real thing.

As you all know, Vajazzling is one of Jennifer Love Hewitt’s favorite things. Apparently, women with low self-esteem and disposable income have taken it a step further. One hard-hitting online journalist went inside the world of vag tats and shared her findings, which I will now share with you.

“After the entire mons pubis and labia have been stripped of any signs of womanhood, you can specify the design of your choice. Nicole, shown above, opted for a cutesy heart pattern. The technician carefully created a detailed pattern, and then instructed Nicole to pick the non-toxic colors of her choice. Her vatoo took about 10 minutes to apply with three colors: purple, coral, and teal. …

This isn’t some junky temporary tattoo that you can buy anywhere- it’s applied by hand, customizable, non-toxic, and doesn’t have any of that weird filmy stuff that you get from a cheap temporary tattoo. You won’t get that weird cracked look as time goes on, either. The paint will gradually fade away over the course of 7-10 days (even with showering), and if you decide you need it off sooner you can always swab the area with rubbing alcohol to remove it."

Thank god for rubbing alcohol. And real alcohol. Am I right, ladieeezzzzz?!!
(My only question: when can we start calling them twattoos?)

I Don't Even Know What This Post Is About

I’m so damn tired, I feel like a shell of myself. I’d love to write a lengthy post about my latest obsession, but I just don’t have my usual joie de vivre. I’m worried I’m slipping into a depression, as evidenced by the fact that I spent time looking through my facebook friends to see who was married or engaged. I don’t look at the wedding photos (feels a bit too Rear Window for my taste), but as I sit at my computer, wasting time by focusing on other people’s lives and seeming bliss, I also start asking myself things like, “how do they do it?” and “why is my existence a sham?”

See above, re: depressed. I think a humorous comedian—and a true gay visionary—is in order.



I will, of course, share in the excitement over the legalization of gay marriage in New York City. I have been prepared for this day for quite a while, and have already sent my main gays a list of songs I am prepared to sing at their nuptials. For those who I was unable to text, please review the choices below.

At Last, by Etta James
Somewhere Over the Rainbow, by Judy Garland
Love Game, by Lady Gaga
The Boy is Mine, by Brandy & Monica (note: will not be sung as a duet)
Anything by Ben Lerman

In other news: I just got a glorious hand-written letter from a subscriber to the mag I work for. Please see the excerpt below:

"This issue was a let-down from start to finish. ... All I can say about this issue is that it made me feel nauseated. How spiritually depressing can you get? .... I finally got to the portrait. This was the crowning blow. This painting really takes the cake for horror image of the century. Again, dark and heavy, and that one distorted, wet-looking eye made it even more scary."

She closed the letter with her web address and attached a business card. As much as I'd love to link you up, I can't let a woman named Esther get me fired. If you email me at madblacktress (see top right), I'll send you a link.

This is almost as good as the psycho who emailed last week about a link to a free download:

Would someone care to send me the link for the "free" tips? Or is this a scam since the only links here lead to a "buy a subscription form" which gives you the first issue for free provided you can cancel in time.

I don't play these bullshit games. Give me the damned link directly.

No, I will not go away. Yes, I will be a pain about this. These are money games that I detest. If it's something free you want to give to people, damn well give it to them, don't play these damned games. The only way you're going to get me to stop bothering you is to give me the link to the "free" product.

HOLY SHIT. How can you get this angry over some painting instruction? Guys, if I fall off the blogsphere for more than a week, send out the dogs--one of these crazy artist bitches has me in their basement and is using my skin to extinguish cigarettes.

16 and Pregnant-- The Live Blog

I know I've never done this, but I seriously wish I could watch this show with people, and never do. So, to get out all of my emotions, I thought live bloggery would be best.

[11:00pm] Oh my god, this episode is going to be so good.

[11:01] Tyler and Catelynn (yes, that's how it's spelled) are step-siblings. Her mom, April, married Tyler's dad, Butch, after Tyler and Catelynn started dating!!! Oh my god, is this a shit show?

[11:02] Friend: "didn't you use condoms?
Tyler: yeah, i used one that got washed in the washing machine.
Friend: "and now she's pregnant."
Oh, Tyler. Just because you can use money that has been through the wash cycle doesn't mean you can dry and straighten out a condom. Get it together, boo!

[11:04] Ty and Cate are thinking of pulling a Juno. They have some sense! They are the first people in the series to actually try and break the cycle of poverty, lack of education, and tragedy, and recognize that just because they are physically capable of spawning doesn't mean they have to raise a child. Cate knows that she can't be a mommy when she's gotta get her braces tightened!

[11:04:30] Cate and Ty's parents don't approve of adoption.
"Here's my son, 16, 17 years old, and he has this baby and gives it away to this great family. And he's not manning up. What am I to think?" - Butch, Tyler's dad. Really? This is why white people can't have nice things.

[11:11- 11:13] Tyler: "I want the dad to be college educated, whether it's a bachelor's, masters, whatever."
Um, I think Tyler hates his dad, Butch, for being so trashy. Oh god, Butch has a mullet and prison tats, and a molestache!
- Butch just said "All that baby needs is love." Tyler just flipped out, oh my god, I'm kind of obsessed with Tyler. He has big dreams--he doesn't want a dream deferred!

[11:14] Catelynn doesn't even want to see the baby. She wants to pop it out and hand it off! Oh, Tyler's tending to her sadness! I heart him.

[11:15-11:18] Worse commercials ever. Um, they've made a straight-to-DVD sequel to "Van Wilder"?

[11:18] Mom thinks she should keep the baby for three reasons:
1. Catelynn would be a good mom.
2. She and Butch could help.
3. "She'd be my first grandbaby, and I'd be thinking about her."
Note: Catelynn has dyed her hair from goth-black to honey brown. Isn't dyeing one's hair frowned upon during pregnancy? I hope this baby doesn't end up with flippers!

[11:20] Why are their parents so selfish and thoughtless? Why would they want their 16-year-olds to raise children instead of going to college, reaching their potential, and having full lives not cut short as a result of one silly night of passion?!

[11:21] Meeting the adoptive parents! They seem so sweet! Super cheesy and dorky, and they just want to love a baby! Oh, they even met at church! You know there's guilt surrounding the inability to conceive--poor tender Christian lovers. They will be so happy with this baby.

[11:23] Catelynn just wants her baby to have what she never did--stability, providing. Oh, she's crying, and now I'm crying too! Poor Catelynn, she's been through so much. She's being such a strong black woman right now. I want to just buy her some Audre Lorde and get her into a nice 4-year college.

[11:27] Dawn the adoption agent is really good at being diplomatic and non-judging.
Catelynn's mother just called her a bitch! WTF? I find the parents to be more of a hot mess than the children.

[11:29 -11:31] Catelynn has rubber bands on her braces. She is the cutest prego teen I've ever seen. I think this is partially because she is giving the baby a good home.

Oh god, she has to hug her mother and help her deal with the pain of giving away the baby.
Tyler is writing a letter to the baby! They are so active and thoughftul.
(I think Tyler is already balding a bit, though--awkward!)
TEARS FROM TYLER, AAAAHHH!!!
Tears from Tyler = Tears from Blacktress.

[11:33] We're inducing labor! Tyler's in the hospital room, as is Catelynn's mother, who looks like she's got a substance abuse issue.

[11:34-11:41] Catelynn should take her rubberbands out. I think they're going to cause an obstruction.
- 2.5 hours into labor! I am never having a baby. It's like trying to shove a watermelon through a keyhole. I get cramps when I wait to long to pee!
- Why isnt' her mother by her side to help her through this? I am so not even a fan of April.
- Oh, now she's on her celly, saying half-heartedly, "breathe, Cate."
- Oh em gee, everyone's here--Catelynn's got an entourage for this birth.
- Um, is mom wearing a baby tee?
- TEARS FROM TYLER AGAIN!!
- I love that Ty's not afraid to grab a knee and help her push. He's been in there, he can see what's coming out!
- She doesn't want to look at the baby, she's freaking out. I'M freaking out. Now Ty is giving her a peptalk, "We can do this, we're doing this for her. giving her a good life."
I am openly sobbing.
They won't take the baby out of the hospital room, Tyler is freaking out, he can't hear his babies cries!

[11:44- 11:50] Catelynn's mom walked out of the hospital room in a huff, all pissed. Tyler is an emotional wreck. They're going to hold the baby!
(I want Tyler to be my baby daddy.)
Uh-oh, are they going to be attached??? Can they give her up?!
Adoptive parents gave them a present--that seems weird, for some reason. It's sweet, but, like, a baby for a bracelet?

[11:54 - 12:00]
Mom won't sign adoption papers! I am livid! Why is she doing this to them?! WHY ON EARTH!?
- I am so worried for the adoptive parents. What if this doesn't come through?!
- Hand-off is taking place off hospital grounds. Tyler and Catelynn are such champions
- I'm kinda scared the mom is going to be waiting at the door with a butcher knife.
- Oh my god, she and Ty don't hate each other and are still tender!
- Catelynn is at peace!!!

Oh my god, this episode was amazing. It's exactly what I wanted to see--some kids who made a hard decision for the greater good of themselves and their children. As you can see, it's an emotional rollercoaster for the blacktress.

OH MY GOD, next week is the AFTER-LABOR FINALE SPECIAL!!!!
Don't call, don't text. I have only one place I'll be next Thursday.

Yes We DID!!!

There were news cameras everywhere. When CNN showed images of Sydney, Australia, it was where I was. I got a text message from my Aussie mum saying I was on Australian news tonight. I traded numbers with countless people, suddenly bound by this camaraderie--so many of us joked that if it didn't go well, we were staying in Australia. I even asked one rando Aussie if he'd marry me. He laughed, then said "I don't know your name."
"Don't get caught up in details; this is a marriage of convenience."

I didn't think I would be crying today, but I was. Repeatedly.
When the jumbo screen tuned to CNN said "President-Elect Barack Obama" I felt more than I thought I would.
I felt a pride unprecedented. I felt as though who I was is now somehow more right, more worthy, because of what happened today. When I saw the First Family walk out and greet their crowd, my tears started flowing again. I couldn't stop. That this is finally America, this is seen as worthy, intelligent, beautiful, strong, powerful, positive. It's, as Sam Cooke sang, been a long time coming.

And maybe I don't have the right to feel that. Of course, there are still many red states, and I am not Obama.
But today, in Sydney, Australia, at the Democrats Abroad election coverage, I was surrounded by Americans, Australians, even Brits and Danes--and there was a sense of, as Aussies would say, "Good on ya, America."


Check out this shirt, worn by an Aussie guy:

Western Australians for CHANGE.

Since I've been here, I've gotten into so many conversations about the election. As I discussed Obama with one Aussie, she said something that stuck with me: "Like it or not, America's a superpower. When America sneezes, the whole world catches a cold."
With that kind of thinking, we owed it to ourselves to at least try something different. And today, not only did that happen, but we undermined the very foundation on which this country was built.

I missed being at home today, but I also felt, for the first time, that I was not alone over here. I hugged Aboriginals, I cried with people I'd never met. One Aboriginal man said to me, "You know, when there are whites and blacks at a party in Australia, the room is divided. You are seeing right now, what change is."

It seems that this time, America is spreading something that people actually want to catch.

My Baggage: INXS

Greetings from California, gang!
I got in yesterday, and boy are my arms tired!
(Has that joke ever been funny?)

Traveling is always jarring to me, especially when there's a time difference involved. I woke up at the ass-crack of dawn and my mom and I headed to JFK for me to catch my flight to SFO. Seeing as this is a stop on the way to Oz, I had two huge bags to check. I was worried about the weight limits, but thought that since I was only packing my cutest outfits, there was no way I could have more than 70 pounds in my bag. You can imagine my surprise when my spring/summer bag was placed on the scale and came in at 82.5 pounds!

Luckily, the lady at the check-in desk was feeling generous. The name on her tag read "Glo," and she kept calling me "Darling" and "Sweetheart." As my mother and I lamented the $100 fee, Glo covertly whispered, "Oh, just go ahead," all full of tenderness!

Upon arrival in SF, I was lucky enough to have my friend the Elite Gay Visionary pick me up in his ride. As we maneuvered my bags, we realized the first stop would have to be finding a third suitcase. Luckily, my former freshman year roommate came to fetch me and we roamed the streets in search of a duffel/sports bag.

NO LUCK.
As we climbed up treacherous hills, I started to freak out about this whole thing. Why am I going to Australia? I can't even pack properly! I'm certainly not cut out for a nomadic, backpacking, hippie lifestyle. As I started to feel tears well up (seriously), I realized that I had way more emotional baggage than clothing!

Would Qantas airlines refuse to let me on because my emotional baggage was too much? Would I tip the plane in unsavory directions with my worrying and freaking out?

Then, the following Australian tourism ad was brought to my attention last night.



I mean, racist leanings aside (what is with the barefoot Aboriginal youth coming to the confused white lady and showing her the way?), I guess I could find a boost from this ad. Perhaps I, too, will push my madness aside and jump into clear waters that got Nicole Kidman pregnant.

As I wait for my third bag to arrive, I shake off the annoyance of having to pay extra, and fight the urge to curse out Qantas representatives (how can I move to a foreign land for a year and NOT bring everything but the kitchen sink?!), and remember that soon I, too, will be finding myself through the help of a native.

For more on that cray cray commercial, check this out.

My Big Fat Greek Relationship

So, I think somewhere between fall of 2001 and last night, I lost my emotional virginity.

Seriously. I no longer feel optimism or excitement, and do not trust a word that comes out of the mouth of a heterosexual male. There was a time when it was all new and magical, and now I'm just like.... meh.

I had date # 2 with the Greek man last night.

We basically met up in front of Whole Paycheck--I mean Whole Foods-- with nothing planned. We met at 7pm-- clearly food hour-- and we ended up walking around the East Village and talking on a park bench.

Now, listen, I'm all down for living on the cheap-- and I respect the starving artist lifestyle (at least when you're actually foreign and broke, and not just going to the salvation army to beat all the poor people to the clothes), but I was looking too fine to be sitting on a park bench.

We did a lot of talking, and at one point a mildly drunk, 40-something-year-old Irishman walks by us. He's drinking red wine in a solo cup. He looks at the Greek demigod and says:
"Excuse me, sorry to interrupt, but I want to say that you're a very handsome man. I hope when I grow up I'm as handsome as you are."

SEE HOW HOT HE IS????? HE MAKES INTOXICATED STRAIGHT MEN OPENLY GAY!!!!

Anyway, I'm cracking up at the absurdity of dating someone ridiculously good-looking (does this happen to hot people all the time???), when the Irishman turns to me and says, "You're gorgeous. You two are a very attractive couple. Are you a couple?"

I was flustered and confused by this. Not only was I now hot by association, but this complete stranger was calling out the status of our love on date deuce! I immediately put the kabosh on that. I say, "NO"..... just as El Greco says, "We're trying to be."

In the words of Nick Cearley in "Bernice Bobs Her Mullet": What an awkward moment!!!

I then scold the drunk for making things awkward and shoo him away. My date and I are left to marinate in our opposing views.

I don't know if it's something in the dolma, but the Greek man is blunt. He's, like, seriously so honest it's almost comical. On one hand, when he says, "I don't do anything I don't want to do," I can be sure he's on a date with me because he wants to be, and he's happy just sitting on a park bench and relishing in my nubianess. On the other hand, he will have no regard for my feelings and say whatever pops into his head. On my third hand (yes, I'm a three-handed circus freak), his honesty allows me to be just as TRUTHFUL, which you know I'm all about.

Later, in Union Square Park (yes, it was a hobo evening of park benches), the Greek asks me if I want to be his girlfriend.

DATE NUMBER 2, PEOPLE!!!

While I was flattered and turned on by the concept of commitment, I was taken aback by this suddeness. Much like the Whole Foods where we met, I like these things to happen organically. The man hasn't even seen me in my spectacles and retainer (yep, I'm classy)-- how can he be ready to handle my truths?!

I've decided he's like a puppy. An excited, fresh-from-the-pound golden retriever puppy, who is excited and jumps all over you and playfully licks in its quest to find an owner. While the energy and cuteness draws you in and makes you want to take him home and love him all night, he is still a canine. And like any puppy, he will inevitably crap on your carpet and need to be hit on the head with a rolled-up newspaper.

BAD, BAD, GREEK HOTTIE! YOU ARE MOVING TOO FAST!!

He called me today. Yes, about 14 hours later-- for someone without a cell phone, he certainly knows how to reach out and touch a sister-- and he will call me every day if I ask him to. And he will also grow his facial hair because I told him I liked the way it looked on our first date.

I guess I should be swooning, but I'm not. You would think a fine, tall, foreign glass of milk who is willing to do whatever I ask would be a dream come true, and yet I'm spent (like the money in his wallet must be if I can't even get a meal!).

I've got the mentality of a 40-year-old divorcee: cold, bitter, cynical, and feeling emotionally chubby. No matter how fine he may be, I just don't want someone all up in my George Foreman (grill) unless they can engage in thoughtful discourse on race, drink red wine, decipher my drunken texts, write sonnets in iambic pentameter, and sit with me and watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze. Oh yeah, and if they have to STAY IN MY TIME ZONE.

I worry that someone who can start an exclusive relationship after 2 dates may be a bit fickle in his affections. Am I wrong? Leave an opinion.

And, here's another question: If you could be a Ninja Turtle, which one would you be???
I think I'd be Raphael, the angsty one.