Monday, June 12, 2006

Girl, Interrupted

Or more like, Woman, Waylaid...

Early Monday morning, theme song:
I'm not feelin you

The stretch of denim across my thighs must have cut off the flow of oxygen to my head because I vaguely remember saying something along the lines of "just five minutes" to myself and waking up hours later...
So basically, Movida didn't happen and I've got 'splaining to do.

Currently I'm wondering about Eve and that damned apple, because human beings shouldn't have to get up this early. Ever. I guess the fact that whilst I slept someone let a damn lumberjack into the room may have something to do with it. If you sound like a diesel engine on permanent rev, don't be surprised if you don't have company more often. Who wants to sleep in the same room with a person who can rattle the windowpanes with their nasal boom? I've also learned a valuable lesson about crashing at someone's crib: if you hear the sound of an aeresol can, DON'T GO IN THE BATHROOM.
Who have I offended in the heavens that I must learn all of my lessons the hard way? Oh ye fickle gods!

Anyway:
I'm dreading the train ride back to my side of town. That's a weird facet of my personality, I abhor travel and will stay an extra day to avoid point a to point b traversing. Ah well, I've got a whole day of organizing ahead of me and for once instead of flashing knives and copious amounts of blood, I dreamt of sticky pads and paperclips. The extremes on my spectrum are nothing short of astounding.

Oh yeah, y'all might see me on the news for shaking my kid's head off. Homegirl got bold the other day and decided to sass an adult to the tune of "I feel like slapping your black ass." I think she took temporary leave of her young, yet to be fully formed, mind. I know some of you are saying that that apple didn't bother to fall off the tree, seeing as how I have a penchant for wanting to slap the lotion out of people's skin, but not as a kid to an an adult at the ripe old age of nine. Pardonez mon francaise but - that little nigga done lost her rabid ass mind. Messed up thing about it though? She got the ass whooping at school (Antigua & corporal punishment - gotta love it), she got the ass whooping when she got home (Auntie Rosie don't play that shit) and she got two more (Me and my mother being ever so patient) waiting for that ass when she get here. Poor kid gonna run right out of ass.

You know the world has changed when dudes don't even bother to booty call anymore. Instead technology has introduced to us the booty text. That's right. Four o'motherfuckingclock in the morning I got a "what you doin" from this fool. Let me help you men out. If you haven't already made a chick scrunch her face up at least once, you should not booty-anything her at any compromising hour. It just makes you look stupid. Not only did I pull the "omg, clownshoes has got to be joking" face as I looked at the phone, but I fully intend to take him to task when I run into him. Notice I said "run into him" cause homeboy done fucked up and I for damn sure ain't interested anymore. Nope. Not at all. Ya moron. You gotta hit it first before you start acting dumb. Sheesh. I gotta tell these fools everything. It's a wonder some of y'all get laid at all.

It's been a pretty tame weekend all in all. I stayed in Friday night and read. Wipe that look off of your collective faces, I too, remain at home ofttimes. I ran through one of Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plumb novels in an hour or so, then moved on to Nabokov's Lolita. Let me interject that Lolita was a much more interesting journey when I was 16 than it is now and I much prefer the tongue in cheek humor of Ada. Saturday found me struggling through a haircut and if anyone can help me, I've got issues.

Now this is the problem according to muMs "your shit is so fine that it lay down flat. I can't get it up to cut it" Apparently once my hair starts growing back it doesn't stick up so it can be cut. This was reinforced by watching Luq get his hair cut and me being astounded because his just came right off. None of that grinding the damn clippers half into his skull just to clear one area. Quote from Luq? "That's because my shit is nappy." So I've got to have nappy hair in order to not spend 45 minute getting my skull scraped half off? There's got to be a better way dammit. Brain surgeon's better way? Take the #1 guard off... yes, a tragedy waiting to happen. It was going well until I heard oops (at least this time you didn't laugh) and much to my chagrin, this oops happened around the left temple. He did some fancy cut work to make it look like some kind of lined design but we both know the truth. You zeeked me son. Word up.
I am never taking the damn guard off again, so if anyone has a solution for a woman with fine hair, please feel free to share. I don't want to have to add 3 cuts to my eyebrow to match the bullshit going on in my head. Thanks.

Saturday night I spent in Williamsburg tying one on. First stop: James' birthday party aka the AfroPunk Prom. That's right, Outcast and Misfits High came together and it was FUN. The music could have been a bit louder and the women less bitchy (I will slap the ruffles offa bitch gown ahahahahahaha - whew I slay myself) but all in all it was a good time. James spun some serious classics, his girlfriend did in fact look like a Culture Club video extra (in a cute way), the tuxedo t-shirts were out in full effect and everyone got to pose for prom pictures. Maxi zoon dweebie fur shure!!! Oh yeah, Lucky Cat will give you a double Limon on the rocks in a human sized glass for $10. It's the little things in life.

Then it was over to the Dork Mag party at Triple Crown. Where once again, I ran into Human. We keep seeing each other like this and people are gonna start talkin. I also saw Damu which is fanfrickentastic seeing as how no one can seem to drag Smitty's ass out of the house. Great sound, excellent dj, masterful mixes and some really well dressed sisters. I got to kick up my heels and fling my dress around. Laughed a lot since I had had a hard day. I think I blathered incessantly about some meaningless drivel or another and let me just say that Popeye's is slamming at 4 am. Sheesh. First McDonald's, now Popeye's will bad drunken food decisions never end?
Down side of the whole night? Getting stood up by Bee. Upside? Remembering my chancletas for the walk to the falafel spot.

Ok I'm off to start my day. I think I'll lay low until Movieoke and Rich Medina at Apt on Weds.

- N I'm out, sharpie in hand

P.S. Sure fire ways to not get no stank: Elbow a sister in the back, steal her pillow while she's turning over, hog the covers, hog the bed and last but not least release an odor that could knock out a skunk from your ass.. I mean come on. Shooting yourself in the foot is one thing, shooting yourself in the johnson is just, well, stupid. Upon reading this you will realize that you have joined the list of: Men I Shalt Not Screw.

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