Are You There, Michelle? It's Me, Blacktress.

Chills, chills, chills. I can't even cope. She's brilliant. Sidebar: I would like to start a kickstarter campaign to have dinner with the Obama family. He can help me strategize friendships and we'll talk about what ain't right!

Journey to the Center of CAUCASIA

In approximately 5 hours I will board a plane bound for Stockholm, Sweden, where I will spend 2 weeks. This will be plane number 14 in approximately 9 weeks. It will be my third journey into a different time zone. It will be frequent flyer miles 5,298,001-8,515,210.

I'm excited.
And fearful.

Not only will this be my first trip with one of my best friends--and the first time I've traveled with someone since developing my comfort and habits as a lone wolf/blackpacker--but I'll be in Scandinavia. The epicenter of Caucasian culture. Where pigment is a mere figment of the imagination!

I'm scared it's going to be very.... Village of the Damned.

AAAHHHH!!!! Inside Caucasia!

One friend said to me, "You go to the whitest vacation spots." Well, I'm sorry if this diminishes my 'negrosity,' but I believe that only by going deep inside Caucasia can I truly learn their ways. Like Nicholas Cage in Face/Off, I will go deep undercover--incognegro, if you will--and find out about Swedes. Packing list features:
-Hip boots, to combat the 40-degree temperatures.
-Sunglasses, to fend off the Swedish paparazzi who'll think I'm Michelle Obama.
-Eclipse, the third book in the Twilight series. After all, nothing prepares you for Caucasia like pasty vamps.
-The movie Juno, freshly uploaded onto my iPod. I'm not really sure why. Maybe cause it shows what trials and tribulations Caucasia can get through with a few smartly placed quips?


Okay, I'm off to finish packing and learn key Swedish phrases (such as "Do you have a girlfriend?" and "I'd like red wine, please"). Wish me luck! I hope to have hard-hitting news from my journey into the center of CAUCASIA* very soon.


*I hope my use of 'Caucasia' doesn't offend anyone. I mean, some of my best friends are White.

I Cannot Watch This Without Tearing Up

It's Been A Long Time Coming.....

I think my favorite part would have to be Malia's pre-inauguration pep talk. Here's a quote from the Prez, found on This Week With Barack Obama:

For Barack Obama's historic Inaugural Address:

"And then we go and look at...Lincoln's second inaugural'' etched on the wall of the memorial, Obama said, recounting his daughters' remarks to him. "And Sasha looks up, and she says, 'Boy, that's a long speech. Do you have to give one of those?' I said, 'Actually, that one's pretty short. Mine may even be a little longer.'

"At which point, then Malia turns to me and says, 'First African-American president. Better be good.''

Oh, Malia, it was SOOOO GOOD!!! While I wished I could have been at home--or, even better, in DC--watching it bleary-eyed at 4am, then again at the Democrats Abroad inauguration party, I felt the same chills I felt on election night.

So, um, Michelle, I'm sending in my application to be the girls' governess. I've got the reading list all set, and have no problem picking up dog poop.

Visa: It's Everywhere You Want to Be

Remember that old slogan for Visa credit cards? Well, I’m now using it to apply to Work and Holiday visas, because quite frankly, everywhere I want to be is DOWN UNDER.

I sent in my application and paid my $195 Australian dollars (which is, sadly, about $194.50 US dollars) this morning, guys—Australia, here I come!!!
As I went through the 8-page application, I gave them all my personal biznass, and half expected to have to submit a blood sample and/or provide a retinal scan. Luckily, they just wanted to make sure I wasn’t a thieving immigrant looking to have major surgery done on their shores. Sample questions included:

What is your usual occupation?: BLACKTRESS
What employment do you intend to seek in Australia?: Michelle Obama and/or Beyoncé impersonator
Do you intend to perform medical procedures during your stay in Australia?: Only if you consider making people HANDLE THE TRUTH a medical procedure


Seriously, though, I’m really excited. And nervous. Where will I live? Will I find work? Will I find people to make out with so that my blog can thrive down under? What if I get attacked by one of the many venomous creatures that only exist in Australia (the only island that is also a country and also a continent!)?! I’ve been reading up on my soon-to-be home, and I’ve discovered many interesting factoids, which I will share with you:

• Victoria is home to Megascolides Australis the GIANT EARTH WORM! Measuring up to 12 feet long, it’s huge and gross, and I think might have been the basis for the movie Tremors.
• Australia did not become a proper nation until 1901, when the 6 colonies decided to come together.
• The notion of Australian citizenship didn’t exist until 1949; before that, they were British citizens.
• The average population density in Australia is only 6 people per square mile! The world average is about 117.
• I plan on visiting the following places simply for their names: Wagga Wagga, Poowong, Burrumbuttock, and….wait for it….wait for it….Tittybong! I am hoping to become the mayor of one of these places.
  

It also has a temperate climate, a population full of young, strapping lads, and a great healthcare system. I also hear the Melbourne Comedy Festival is the jam and the jump-off, and perhaps I’ll go there and tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the TRUTH!

Sidebar: In Australia, comedians are known as ‘crackers.’ When I first heard the term used to describe Kathy Griffin, I thought it was quite racist and more than a little bit rude—until I got down with the lingo.

Black Love

One time, I was watching an episode of Being Bobby Brown (who is right up there with Flava Flav on my list of “why black people can’t have nice things”) and Bobby and Whitney were talking as someone was applying Whitney’s makeup. Clearly, unclear of the rule no. 1 of reality-television acting (do NOT play for the camera), Bobby started talking about how Whitney was unable to…um…relieve herself earlier in the day, and how he had to…um…stick his finger up her butt to “loosen things up.”

I kid you not.

Whitney, of course, was yelling at him to stop talking, but she was too cracked out to be coherent—and I’m sure being Whitney’s husband teaches you to tune out 90% of the things that are said to you. Anyway, Bobby concluded this riveting story by saying, “That’s black love.”-- and Whitney agreed.

I remember thinking to myself, “Really? Is it?”
If that’s black love, I want no part of it.
I would sooner eat a ducolax pie with flaxseed sprinkles than have someone I love stick their finger up my butt—that’s just not how I roll.

For some reason, two-plus years later, I still remember that portion of the show, and sometimes think of it when I see two possible drug addicts in love. But I also found myself thinking of it this morning, when I saw this photo on the cover of one of the free papes:


HOW GREAT IS THAT?!!!?!?!?!?!?
That is what I call black love!!!

I haven’t really been blogging about the election, because I’m certainly not the smartest political person, and there are millions doing it already, but I must say, this picture brightened my spirits—and my faith in black love. For months now, I’ve blogged about the search for winter spoons and love, and really, when it comes down to it, all I really want is to be the Michelle to someone’s Barack. I know Barack himself is taken and hard to come by, so when I say this, I mean a tall, handsome, driven man, with the smarts and the cool to make big things happen—and who can handle a strong black woman!!!

At 5’11”, the statuesque and brilliant Michelle Obama first came into Barack’s life as his boss--how gangsta is that?! Homegirl handed him his timesheets and told him to put in some OT with her! She’s been poised and confident on the campaign trail, but hasn’t been a boring fly on the wall. She dresses to thrill—this purple number with the black belt is fiercer than an America’s Next Top Model marathon—and she is my she-ro (you know, my female hero).

I can’t wait for us to have a black first lady. I just really can’t. It’s a blacktresses dream come true.

Oh yeah, and a black president. I love Barack’s international perspective and multi-racial identity. If he’s president, we won’t bomb a damn body—can you imagine?! Barack will be like, “No, we can’t drop bombs there, my cousin lives over there!”
And that’s how you stop war.

From now on, I will only pound up to those I really love—or give, as the paper called it, “the fist bump of hope.”

OURecards.com

For those of you who follow the blacktress blog religiously, you already know from previous posts that I’m really into the website someecards.com. They have an ecard for almost every occasion, from April Fool’s Day to Black History Month, and for any situation. And I love their tag line: for when you care enough to hit send. SOO TRUE!

I’ve taken to sending them to friends for any and no reason, just to share the laughter and the joy. They’ve reciprocated, creating a lovely chain of goodness. But today, when discussing the e-card possibilities with Katie Walsh, we realized someecards.com was missing a very important category: “rejection.” While they have a category devoted to break ups, they’ve left out the all important moment when you really need to send an ecard. That is, after you’ve only gone on a few dates or had a one-night stand with someone who then acts like you don’t exist. How do you handle this rage? How can you get back at your oppressor electronically?

Well, Katie and I put our heads together and came up with our very own set of ecards: ScornedWomanEcards (we're hoping to get it as a .org, or maybe even .gov--perhaps sponsored by Michelle Obama???). Until we get our website up and running, you can save the images below and send them to the foes and hos that have done you wrong. I think the cards will say far more than your heart ever could.