warning: this is what happens when i get bored

...we can thank my buddy at xanga...(methodmonkey)...for this one...

YOUR FIRST
FIRST BEST FRIEND: Jenny Brown (1st-3rd grade...first visit to the US)
FIRST KISS: thats in the mortifying moments book
FIRST SCREEN NAME: afrochick04
FIRST FUNERAL: ...that i remember....my grandma
FIRST PET: bubbles. this mean ass parakeet i never played with and she died miserable and mean and alone
FIRST PIERCING: earlobes
FIRST TRUE LOVE: mom and dad! lol ...hush
FIRST MUSICIANS: michael jackson....jimi solanke....fela...

YOUR LAST
LAST CAR RIDE: a white stick-shift jetta driven by this tagger named yoon who we (nay, serena y yo) met at a graf art show last night. from penn station to west village. cramped. good music.
LAST KISS: ahhh....not telling.
LAST GOOD CRY: january sometime
LAST LIBRARY: huh? whats that?
LAST MOVIE SEEN: bend it like beckham for like the upteenth thousand time
LAST PHONE CALL: naomi...talkin shit about somethin we had no business talkin about
LAST TIME SHOWERED: this morning
LAST SHOES WORN: my fave kitten heeled shoes
LAST CD PLAYED: this hott mix eric made me....ani difranco....white stripes....radiohead...
LAST ITEM BOUGHT: pizza slice
LAST ANNOYANCE: some chick staring at me on the A
LAST DISAPPOINTMENT: that pizza slice just didnt hit the spot
LAST SHIRT WORN: black long sleeve button down
LAST WEBSITE VISITED: nytimes.com
LAST WORD YOU SAID: 'ok. bye' (..........what is this list abouttt?)
WHAT IS IN YOUR CD PLAYER?: Miles 'sketches of spain'; Orishas 'a lo cubano'; Fela 'kalakuta show'; Red Hot Chilli Peppers mix; Lizz Wright 'Salt'; Salif Keita 'Moffou'; jay z 'reasonable doubt'
WHAT COLOR SOCKS ARE YOU WEARING?: fishnets baby
WHAT COLOR UNDERWEAR ARE YOU WEARING?: lol. ok
BED?: super cute silver bed from ikea....i looooove ikea
WHAT TIME DID YOU WAKE UP TODAY?: 9:00am, 11:00am, 2:00pm...long weekend

YOUR CURRENT
CURRENT MOOD: bored...cant u tell?
CURRENT TASTE: hungry...that hungry taste...ew. i know
CURRENT HAIR: cut short...mohawk-y...wild...like me......rrrright
CURRENT CLOTHES: lol....its embarrassing...but no one can see. so why tell?
CURRENT ANNOYANCE(S): hungry but too tired to get up/2 grad papers loomin ova my head
CURRENT DESKTOP PICTURE: black girl with a white flower...one of my fave bw pics
CURRENT BOOK(S): invisible man...i'll finish it on the plane thursday
CURRENT TIME-WASTING WISH: i need more sun
CURRENT HATE: hungry....always hungry

ONE OR THE OTHER
1. BLACK OR WHITE?: black
2. BOXERS OR BRIEFS?: nothing
3. COKE OR PEPSI?: neither...water?
4. SALT OR PEPPER?: salt
5. SWEET OR SOUR?: sour
6. VANILLA OR CHOCOLATE?: vanilla
7. SHORT OR LONG?: short or long what?
8. CHEAP OR EXPENSIVE?: i like getting expensive things at cheap prices
9. FIRM OR SOFT?: a man firm. his lips soft.....yea..i'm trippin myself out too
10. HOT OR COLD?: hot

FAVORITES
1. COLOR IS: black
2. SONG IS: too many to count....i always say "OMG! this is myyyy song!" .....but i have played maroon 5's 'she will be loved' like 10000000 times today.....
3. SCENT IS: chanel no. 5
4. ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGE IS: rapid tequila shots, most martinis, watermelon margarita
5. FOOD IS: fried plantains

5 THINGS YOU DID SO FAR TODAY: woke up, showered, went back to bed, ate, typed up paper in 2 hours

5 THINGS YOU DO WHEN YOU'RE BORED: read, IM, eat, call mommy, tv, doodle, fill out a list like this...

5 THINGS THAT NEVER FAIL TO CHEER YOU UP: talking to my fam, my linesisters, nigerian movies, african peeps, food, a margarita, good music, grad school buds...

5 THINGS YOU CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT: family, friends, traveling, tv, paint & canvas, food & water...

...i can count..but 5 just isnt enough....limits suck 'member?

...and we sang

somewhere between me hanging off the sprinkler pipes and doug singing 'like a virgin' in the highest pitch i have eva heard and the whole room singing 'new york, new york' like our lives depended on it and naomi almost cryin to 'under the bridge' cuz its a cali thang and the whole room-boys and girls- singing 'i will survive' cuz we just felt it like that and veronica screaming 'sweet child o mine' at the top of her lungs *twice* and scott taking advantage of janel and the british rockstar band member dude singing 'i'm leaving on a jetplaneeeee' and rachel gettin me my first pair of argyle socks and starburst lipgloss and the $450 bill that somehow appeared at the end of the nite and us being too helpless to sort it all out in a logical, respectable, non slurring way but instead dragging ourselves to the nearest diner and then waitin on the A @ 6am...

somewhere between all of this...i realized i could do this forever....


i'm just gonna need a new body.

what is...what isn't...

Jude Law is hot
Mos Def is hot
Johnny Damon is hot
D'Angelo is hot
Lenny Kravitz is hot

trick daddy is not


Fela is cool
Nikki Giovanni is cool
graffiti art is cool
meeting jesse and yoon from BK is cool
chillin on a rooftop talkin about robert moses is cool
chicken kebab and greasy pizza post surreal moment is cool


the local A is not



fried plantains are tasty
honey bunches of oats is tasty
egusi is tasty
sushi is tasty
water is tasty
brownies. no nuts. are tasty


pickles are not



procrastination is-










tragic.

Subway 101

---the following are a few of my daily observations while relishing the joys of public transportaion in the bustlin metropolis we affectionally call new york f'ing city.

If you don’t have an action plan in case your wallet falls in the tracks or some crazy nut pushes you in or you hear an explosion. You should get one. Also, if you don’t have a look that says “I’m invisible. You won’t talk to me, try to take me home or sell me AAA batteries or ask me for a penny”. You should also go out and get one.
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for cryin outloud...if you can't find one: go out. buy dark sunglasses. put them on. don't smile. walk.

when the homeless man with bleeding feet and an odor similar to rotting goat cheese or mackerel steps in your car...don't hold your nose and say "pee-yoo!". you see....thats rude and inconsiderate. it also makes the homeless man very upset and causes him to go into a short yet emotionally charged speech about how instead of holding your nose, you could maybe do something like tell him where to go for a job, take his resume, or guess the day's winning lotto numbers.

speaking of these things....forgetting to deodorize your pits and nether regions before embarking on the rush hour trip uptown is to the next person similar to someone taking the open anus of a large horse and wiping it across your face.

Next time, when running for that train ….remember that another one…just like it…same destination…more open seats….same speed even…is not far behind. This way when you fall headfirst on the platform….you can congratulate yourself on being the ‘subway idiot of the day’. You’ll be happy to know that many try and........many succeed.

So let’s say you don’t fall. Lets say you actually make it as far as the subway doors. What next?
From my observation, it is absolutely imperative and perfectly reasonable that you try and pry open the closing doors with your 100 pound frame. Stick an umbrella in there, your pointy toe shoe, your whole arm, head, leg or full torso will also do. Remember to use all of your might to try and work against the mechanical gears. Make sure the car full of people sees how hard you’re trying. This way when the door snaps shut breaking your umbrella, modifying your shoe or deforming your head, arm, leg and/or whole torso…everyone can say “boy. she sure did try. I’ll say A for effort”.

If you’re a beefy black man who secretly enjoys the fast beats of cher and/or celine dion…you should run out and buy the cheapest headphones on the market. You should put them on, pump up the volume and get on the next train. Relax. No one can hear it. Those looks are probably ‘cuz the females can’t get enough of your bulging biceps and the males are just hatin’.

...and stories we'll never tell the children...

-pArTy invite for the Rachel and Tosin Birthday Bash...Courtesy of (who else?)Nay-

Sixth anniversary of the Sweet Sixteenth
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we all know them. those intelligent, sexy, sarcastic know-it-alls we lovingingly refer to as rachel and tosin.
(well. you at least know one of them. or at least you know me.)

so anyways. just like all the other scorpios whose parents got down on valentine's day 9 months prior, these 2 have a birthday looming. and you're invited to celebrate the only way we know how. gettin ugly, belligerent and coerced into singing every pop song in the book with the help of our mentor and good friend, alky-hol.

-the scene of the crime?
MUSE KARAOKE
154 w. 26th St. B1(btwn 6th & 7th ave)
A,C,E,1,2,3,9 (but if you can't figure out the trains yet, why are you still in new york?)

-when, oh when, is this A-list party?
SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 20th
we have the room reserved from 11p til we want to bounce or the bday girls are incapacitated.

-duties for this glorious event?
just show up, bring a friend or two. we'll have drinky drink and snacks in the room and of course, byob/v/w/t/etc. is always appreciated.

but be warned.
all those hoping to wish these two lovely ladies a happy happy birthday will be expected to serenade them with at least one song.
the cheesier and more flamboyant the better.
duets and group efforts are acceptable, but a lame-ass rendition of 'happy birthday' is not.

-still have questions?(or if you just want my number, you naughty flirt) hit me back via email and i'll do the best i can.

see ya sat!
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nay's mind vomit

----email followin the events of nov.02.04 by naomi iwasaki------

so this week sucked, am i right? wednesday morning the city that never sleeps was literally somber and people were walking to work with their heads down. not in a bundled up, it's freakin cold and winter's coming kind of down. you kno what i'm talking about.
rage, frustration, disbelief, disgust...yeah i'm feeling all that. for sure. putting a name to and making sense of the simple question 'how?' has dominated most of the convo's i've been in. both in and outta class. mostly we come to the agreement that the middle and southern part of this country sucks. they're retarded. they're bumpkins. they're jesus freaked bibleheads. and dude. bush's camp sure understood that.

i wouldn't have even thought about what 'the other side' was thinking were it not for my public policy class today.
of course we were talking about the elections, exit polls, voter values, all that. someone was talking about how bush really touched the christian southerners who identify with his 'values.' yeah we all roll our eyes here near the oceans, but these bubba sparxxx and marshall mather's live in a world of adamant heterosexuality, school prayer and sundays in church. they don't understand why we support pride parades and spend sundays in bball gyms or sobering up from the night before. my prof brought up an interview how W was being questioned on the war. after being asked if he had consulted his father about iraq, W responds with 'i consulted a higher father.' most of the class scoffed. i too was guilty of rolling my eyes.

then this guy from tennessee spoke up. he's progressive, a kerry supporter, he's in my freakin grad school of public service for dude's sake. he was debating whether or not to speak up, but i'm glad he did. he called us on our arrogance. that scoffing, he said, is exactly the arrogance that fundamentalist christian southerners feel from the north and west. they don't identify with academics using big words to talk about foreign policy and economic deficits. they don't like the idea of a rich stiff from the northeast representing a change to their way of life--even if that is a life of sheltered ideals that we don't understand. but bush understood that, reached out to those people, and collected their electoral votes on the way to victory. that brought me to a halt. i had been rolling my eyes at this man's family.

it's too late to say i'm not gonna get all preachy as this is the most sober (ha) xanga blog ever. i'm just sayin, he won. it's done. and it feels good to call everyone in the dirty south stupid. it's easy to write them off as rural midwestern hicks who's father, son and homeboy is jesus. but that probably cost the democrats the election of 2004. in reality those 'hicks' got used. some shrewd ass political strategist took what they believed and felt, and fueled that fire to get them to the polls in droves. i don't understand why some people in this country can identify with bush. but flip the coin and they don't understand how some of my friends can identify as gay. that's that shit you can't argue. and coming up with humorous ways of degrading them definitely licks our wounds of investing more into this election than any other. but it sure won't get them to vote their state blue in 08.

don't get me wrong, i'm the most cynical bitch ever. judgemental, hater, eye-roller. oh and i'm pretty arrogant, too. (you all kno this. i believe that's why we're friends) but dude, people are fucken people everywhere. we all wanna live our lives. i want to drink til dawn and wear nikes and spit on the sidewalks. and not get judged. no one does. including everyone who voted for the devil last tuesday. too bad kerry's camp didn't reach out to all the other disenfranchised groups in this country the way bush's camp did. new york probably wouldn't be so sad.

mind vomit

so i'm blogging now.
i dont know what it is...
but it's what i'm doin and better yet....
it's what you're reading.

generally speaking...i've always thought personal webpages and dairies and journals were pretty l-a-m-e. i mean...who cares? u know? who cares if u're sad today and happy tomorrow? really?

but since ive never possessed the lame gene i figured i could make this cool. i can make anything cool (*insert* courtney 'lite skinned- curly haired' made me do this).
anyway it'll be funni. riveting. a real cliff hanger. you'll care. promise.
and i mean...if u don't agree...u should probably just...u know... leave.

so the way this works....from what i gather...is:
1) i write in a very self-absorbed manner.
2) you read.
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i like this.

I get to pontificate.
i love that word.
...mostly because it is exactly what i will do.

i mean...ive always had a penchant for writing and lettin my slightly touched mind out of its cage. and although IM away messages (somethin else i de-lamed) were practical for awhile...that stupid "character limit" rule was startin to get a bit old....

but here.
....here in blog land....

there is no limit.

speakin of limits...

they suck.

....especially when my tortured soul has been in steady withdrawal since i packed up my paint brushes, oils and canvases, mind and life as i knew it... and moved to new york cit-tay. i dunno....its just very ironic to me that i can't paint in my 'studio' apartment. i wonder who the brilliant one was that coined the word and then made it virtually impossible to set up a canvas anywhere else but on the stove or in the bathtub...on the couch... or on the bed. or near your very white curtains.

so here i sit with all this pent up cReAtIvE energy and nowhere to purge it except in the the dirty streets of new york....martini in hand..yelling about old...new...sweet..mindless...nothings.

but now.
now...i blog.

aren't u psyched?!

but first,

3 things:
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...this is where i will purge my mind. 'mind vomit' so to speak. i suggest you proceed with extreme caution.

...don't expect to leave with some deep, profound understanding of my life...or your life....or other people's lives. its vomit. it'll probably reek of things you would rather i not share. but you'll probably keep readin anyway 'cuz u're bored and have nothing better to do.

...dont share your own ideas with me. i dont care. this is my bloggy blog.

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