In life, love, business--the old rules no longer apply. At least not for me. Who set the rules in the first place? Parents? Teachers? Preachers? Politicians? Some old biddy down the street who needed to get a life? Who decided how you should do things and what was the proper way to do them? I don't know. I guess I really have nothing to write about this week. so I guess I'm breaking my own rule of having to publish something once a week or I won't be on point with the rest of my new-to-this-interactive-thing peers. I've been on the computer tapping out prose and press releases since the early 80s. Hated it then and kinda like it now. But I still like a pen and some paper to think about my ideas first, then it all comes rushing out through my weary and worn fingertips like a faucet.
Oh well, I'll write in my ole handy trusty notebook today, and maybe become inspired to jott something meaningful down. Old habits die hard.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Old School Fiesta
My daughter has a way with hamburger meat--meat loaf, gourmet and smothered burgers and tacos. Just delicious. We had them yesterday, as an end-of-week celebration and part of Saturday us-time.
This was an odd week. I had some ups and downs and dealt with what I thought to be some slights, remarkably well. When just two weeks ago, I was dealing with the launch of two significant projects, this week was some--I don't know that I'd call it fall out-- but some weirdness around those projects. And in Hip Soul Chic fashion, I handled them well. I think.
This is what went down. We rushed and rushed, and pushed and didn't sleep to deliver one project for the start of gridiron season only to have the site not even up and running. No fault of ours, they insisted on us posting the modules to their server. Then in some typical-- folks will ask for more than they should, as they pay you far below what any normal human being even a desperate for a project one would accept--way, pulled that "I'm the client and I'm doing you a favor" bullshit and started being more than nit picky and asking for changes instead of tweaks and claiming we weren't doing the work when it was her tech guy who was the cog in the wheel. Aarrghhh. Then the client (and I use the title through tightly clinched teeth) had the nerve to go behind my back and ask my folks to do the work she knew I would not approve. Frickin' ingrate. Was 250+ additional hours on a project not enough for you? Was the fact that we delivered something that not only surpasses what you could have imagined or even asked us to design, not enough? Was this not delivered on time, beyond expectation and going to guarantee another decade worth of relationship with your high profile partner (who views you as the the bench- warmer that they have to amuse because he's the owner's kid) ? Folks are a mess. No doubt, she'll ask for more and try to squeeze all she can out of us, when what was delivered is more, and I do mean more, than what anyone will expect.
So if that wasn't enough, I couldn't get a read on my other team on the other project and almost felt like ideas I had shared were being --dare I say: stolen? and emails and requests not being answered, and my excitement and dream having to be reworked yet again. But alas, things got back on track and I'm once gain excited by the prospect of what is going to be something way cool and meaningful (in a capricious sorta of way, not a Doritos empowering kinda way).
I got inspired and I'm convinced that folks don't get it and build sites without the users in mind. Are they not users? All the hype and buildup kills me, when you get to the site and there is nothing, you can't find the much talked about exclusives and video (let alone how to find it if it did exist) and the site fails to engage, or be relevant to anyone other than the pre-pubescent woman-child the developer was fantasizing would one day bed him after he built the over-hyped, underwhelming site he overcharged some poser marketing folks for. Not that I piss where I sleep, but you know to whom I am referring.
So in the midst of this madness that frankly had me depressed and ready to get a real job, I accompanied my daughter to Columbia for a meet and greet/ tour/ informational session thing. She plans to go there next year, as she inches closer to being a doctor. (I'm going to need that lobotomy sooner than later foolin' with these idiots I call clients). And it brought back some feelings and stirred up some stuff, I wasn't equipped to deal with this week in the midst of my tech crisis.
I love school. I loved being in school and think of those school days as the best times of my life. If only I were a practicing attorney vs. the entrepreneur of many hats I find myself being these days, perhaps I'd get some quicker responses to emails, calls and I'd be taken a bit more seriously? That's a rhetorical question I ask myself daily. So being on that campus and imagining my father walking around and philosophizing (he studied there), and my cousin accepting an esteemed award (she taught there), and now my daughter about to make a mark on these grounds made me a bit weepy, if not filled with pride of her seemingly endless abilities that go far beyond her ability to render me nearly comatose, if not euphoric, which her cooking seems to do.
Wow, seeing her all grown up and about to embark on a journey which has had its share of false starts and detours, is quite emotional. I know she's going to make it and do more than well. That's not the problem; it was the feelings of missed opportunities that I had that filled me with regret, at a time when I should only be thinking about her and what she must be feeling. But I guess that's just me the over-achiever who gave birth to an over-achiever who is achieving things that I could only dream of. I guess I made a way for her in some small way, so I should have no regrets.
As her incredible journey begins and we celebrate all that awaits, I guess my new journey begins too and opportunities still are available to me. I just have to make my own and have no regrets.
Party on...
This was an odd week. I had some ups and downs and dealt with what I thought to be some slights, remarkably well. When just two weeks ago, I was dealing with the launch of two significant projects, this week was some--I don't know that I'd call it fall out-- but some weirdness around those projects. And in Hip Soul Chic fashion, I handled them well. I think.
This is what went down. We rushed and rushed, and pushed and didn't sleep to deliver one project for the start of gridiron season only to have the site not even up and running. No fault of ours, they insisted on us posting the modules to their server. Then in some typical-- folks will ask for more than they should, as they pay you far below what any normal human being even a desperate for a project one would accept--way, pulled that "I'm the client and I'm doing you a favor" bullshit and started being more than nit picky and asking for changes instead of tweaks and claiming we weren't doing the work when it was her tech guy who was the cog in the wheel. Aarrghhh. Then the client (and I use the title through tightly clinched teeth) had the nerve to go behind my back and ask my folks to do the work she knew I would not approve. Frickin' ingrate. Was 250+ additional hours on a project not enough for you? Was the fact that we delivered something that not only surpasses what you could have imagined or even asked us to design, not enough? Was this not delivered on time, beyond expectation and going to guarantee another decade worth of relationship with your high profile partner (who views you as the the bench- warmer that they have to amuse because he's the owner's kid) ? Folks are a mess. No doubt, she'll ask for more and try to squeeze all she can out of us, when what was delivered is more, and I do mean more, than what anyone will expect.
So if that wasn't enough, I couldn't get a read on my other team on the other project and almost felt like ideas I had shared were being --dare I say: stolen? and emails and requests not being answered, and my excitement and dream having to be reworked yet again. But alas, things got back on track and I'm once gain excited by the prospect of what is going to be something way cool and meaningful (in a capricious sorta of way, not a Doritos empowering kinda way).
I got inspired and I'm convinced that folks don't get it and build sites without the users in mind. Are they not users? All the hype and buildup kills me, when you get to the site and there is nothing, you can't find the much talked about exclusives and video (let alone how to find it if it did exist) and the site fails to engage, or be relevant to anyone other than the pre-pubescent woman-child the developer was fantasizing would one day bed him after he built the over-hyped, underwhelming site he overcharged some poser marketing folks for. Not that I piss where I sleep, but you know to whom I am referring.
So in the midst of this madness that frankly had me depressed and ready to get a real job, I accompanied my daughter to Columbia for a meet and greet/ tour/ informational session thing. She plans to go there next year, as she inches closer to being a doctor. (I'm going to need that lobotomy sooner than later foolin' with these idiots I call clients). And it brought back some feelings and stirred up some stuff, I wasn't equipped to deal with this week in the midst of my tech crisis.
I love school. I loved being in school and think of those school days as the best times of my life. If only I were a practicing attorney vs. the entrepreneur of many hats I find myself being these days, perhaps I'd get some quicker responses to emails, calls and I'd be taken a bit more seriously? That's a rhetorical question I ask myself daily. So being on that campus and imagining my father walking around and philosophizing (he studied there), and my cousin accepting an esteemed award (she taught there), and now my daughter about to make a mark on these grounds made me a bit weepy, if not filled with pride of her seemingly endless abilities that go far beyond her ability to render me nearly comatose, if not euphoric, which her cooking seems to do.
Wow, seeing her all grown up and about to embark on a journey which has had its share of false starts and detours, is quite emotional. I know she's going to make it and do more than well. That's not the problem; it was the feelings of missed opportunities that I had that filled me with regret, at a time when I should only be thinking about her and what she must be feeling. But I guess that's just me the over-achiever who gave birth to an over-achiever who is achieving things that I could only dream of. I guess I made a way for her in some small way, so I should have no regrets.
As her incredible journey begins and we celebrate all that awaits, I guess my new journey begins too and opportunities still are available to me. I just have to make my own and have no regrets.
Party on...
Sunday, September 21, 2008
My Fashion Week
Two weeks ago, two key things happened: Football season started and Fashion Week kicked off. I'm in heaven and a bit of hell. As the daughter, mother, sister, niece, granddaughter of fashionistas (and some sharp brothas)--fashion fuels me. Not just shopping and imprinting my own style, but the colors, fabrics, energy and creative energy involved. It's a way of life. It is life. And right now, life is good.
And then we have sports. My other passion (I have many, and that's...okay). Favre came to NY. Phelps reigns supreme (I was a swimmer and lifeguard). Brady got injured (sniff) and Michigan will always be numero uno to all (!) So, that part of my spirit is in a good place too.
But what to do when both worlds call, and I need to answer professionally and personally to both? So just when this could have been the best week EVER, I was too busy to truly grasp what it meant to me and for me. And in many ways for my being Black in America. I've had opportunity to do some cool things in my days; And for all my fussin' and cussin' and stressing over getting things just right and getting my due--I worked on two significant releases this week: the site redesign of the NFL/United Way Agency's partnership microsite, and the launch of a fashion and shopping online digest http://www.insidethetents.net/.
Next week, after all the pieces have been tested and all the modules function like a well coached team, one of the coolest sites on the web will hit the virtual field. When folks log on and see the moving timeline, players profiles that jump of the page, trading cards that flip and all the other bells and whistles, I'll be quietly on the sidelines saying: "Not bad for a little girl of color who wanted to be in the Olympics and be a sports agent, but the timing wasn't right". Uhn...
And then when Italian Vogue published an all Black model edition of their magazine this year, and the catwalk at Bryant Park is bright, but light on the usage of sistas and brothas, I pulled a coup that those in their Ivory-fashion-mag-Towers would never suspect: I go inside the tents to capture the moments and bring access before others do and will. And it won't stop there--London, Milan and Paris are next and there's Tokyo too. For all their money and seeming power, I relied on good ole fashion Black girl-get it done ingenuity (and years of business know how and relationships), and did my thing. From behind the scenes: I walked the walk. Uhn...
So my head is still pounding (no real sleep in weeks), and my fingers numb. My still heart torn between two loves (alas, there is TV, film and music too and those projects to deliver), I still have tweaks so that the work is perfect, but in the end, I realize I did good this week and made a mark on America in my own small, but significant way. What was all the fuss?
Carry on and pass the remote...
Monday, April 14, 2008
Fight the power
Where do I start? Is it me, or have people simply lost their mind? Have they been teaching empowerment classes in college, or are we victims of too much Dr. Phil and Oprah? I'm all for having a good sense of self, but must we think that the world owes us something 'cause were here? that we don't have to pay dues or be glad someone is taking the time to help us? WTF?
Helped someone out who wants to be a power-broker, dream-weaver, deal-maker. Doesn't have the first clue that she's being pimped. OK. So I'm leery, but put my faith in my friend who introduces me to her friend. Can I help her out? She has a great relationship with an outlet that you may want to get in bed with. Cool. All I need to do is coach her a little. OK. Maybe she'll be a quick study, and end of the day I have to seal the deal. Heffer never calls. Too busy having late dinners and runnin' around like she's arrived. Like she can cram last minute and ace the test. You ain't that bright. I haven't been impressed by anything you've said yet. Meanwhile she pressures me to get stuff to her so she can get her shine on. So finally we have a talk, I'm feeling like she hasn't even bothered to do any homework. Thinks because she has the hook up that she can just waltz in and seal the deal. Not happenin'. I'm already knowin'. Finally, I snap. Too old and too tired to be disrespected by some whipper snapper, and have my hard work disrespected and my soul misrepresented. Clearly she's offended. I semi apologize and wait on her follow up. No call. My friend hits me and asks if I was too hard on her. Maybe a little, but I am not going to apologize for being on top of my shit and expecting you to be too. Especially when you are going to profit from my work. Wow. I apologize. She calls me. I hit her back. She insinuates that I did owe her an apology and that she was doing me a favor. Only wants to work with people who are friends of friends and who like her!!! WTF??? I will only continue to be frustrated by her and frankly she's just not going to have anyone talk over her or raise their voice, question what she's doing. Wow. I chuckle. No worries I say. Then the phone goes dead. She calls me back. I refuse to answer. End of story. Then I was sad. Another fake busy person in the making. Another wannabe important person. Another time waster I had fallen prey to. And so young. HA! Then I thought long and hard. Maybe its me. I am not allowed to stand up for myself. I always have to be nice. Roll over and play dead. That's just wrong.
And what's with folks thinking because they have money they have a premium on brains? Buy a clue and get some sense! Folks for the most part are telling you what you want to hear, not what you need to. And me, stuck in the middle, getting it from all ends. Just trying to do what I was asked to do and some. Fell victim to some bitchassness. Where's Sir Diddy Puff when you need him? I don't even know where to end, let alone begin with this one! We feel threatened by you. You say what we wish we could but are too scared to be honest. You have too much energy and gumption, so we'll just try to kill that spirit a little for you. Throw you under the bus. Leave you out. Ignore you. Pretend you aren't in the room or conversation. In fact, we'll simply try our best to humiliate you at ever turn. WTF did I do to you? I'm not trying to be boss lady's best buddy, I just want to do what's best and move on. Not going to get in a pissin' match with a person who looks like she's two shakes in the wind (drunk for you young folks). I'll back off. Clearly you didn't think enough of my time and effort to call me and tell me that I wouldn't be making a trip I rescheduled my week for and made arrangements for a production crew to show up last minute only to have little ole two shakes in the wind tell me they could not accommodate the cameraman and I needed to plan these things out with her first before I made such plans because after all only she knows how to run things. Jeez Louise. Again. No worries. I got beat down and made to apologize for standing up for myself last time, so back off. Be humiliated. Let the woman think she got you. Damn, am I not watching enough Oprah and Dr. Phil? Do I need to go back to class and learn to speak up? Am I so stressed about getting paid that I'll put up with crap just to get paid for a crap load of great stuff you couldn't get this cheap? What have I become?
Maybe I did let them kill my spirit a little.
Helped someone out who wants to be a power-broker, dream-weaver, deal-maker. Doesn't have the first clue that she's being pimped. OK. So I'm leery, but put my faith in my friend who introduces me to her friend. Can I help her out? She has a great relationship with an outlet that you may want to get in bed with. Cool. All I need to do is coach her a little. OK. Maybe she'll be a quick study, and end of the day I have to seal the deal. Heffer never calls. Too busy having late dinners and runnin' around like she's arrived. Like she can cram last minute and ace the test. You ain't that bright. I haven't been impressed by anything you've said yet. Meanwhile she pressures me to get stuff to her so she can get her shine on. So finally we have a talk, I'm feeling like she hasn't even bothered to do any homework. Thinks because she has the hook up that she can just waltz in and seal the deal. Not happenin'. I'm already knowin'. Finally, I snap. Too old and too tired to be disrespected by some whipper snapper, and have my hard work disrespected and my soul misrepresented. Clearly she's offended. I semi apologize and wait on her follow up. No call. My friend hits me and asks if I was too hard on her. Maybe a little, but I am not going to apologize for being on top of my shit and expecting you to be too. Especially when you are going to profit from my work. Wow. I apologize. She calls me. I hit her back. She insinuates that I did owe her an apology and that she was doing me a favor. Only wants to work with people who are friends of friends and who like her!!! WTF??? I will only continue to be frustrated by her and frankly she's just not going to have anyone talk over her or raise their voice, question what she's doing. Wow. I chuckle. No worries I say. Then the phone goes dead. She calls me back. I refuse to answer. End of story. Then I was sad. Another fake busy person in the making. Another wannabe important person. Another time waster I had fallen prey to. And so young. HA! Then I thought long and hard. Maybe its me. I am not allowed to stand up for myself. I always have to be nice. Roll over and play dead. That's just wrong.
And what's with folks thinking because they have money they have a premium on brains? Buy a clue and get some sense! Folks for the most part are telling you what you want to hear, not what you need to. And me, stuck in the middle, getting it from all ends. Just trying to do what I was asked to do and some. Fell victim to some bitchassness. Where's Sir Diddy Puff when you need him? I don't even know where to end, let alone begin with this one! We feel threatened by you. You say what we wish we could but are too scared to be honest. You have too much energy and gumption, so we'll just try to kill that spirit a little for you. Throw you under the bus. Leave you out. Ignore you. Pretend you aren't in the room or conversation. In fact, we'll simply try our best to humiliate you at ever turn. WTF did I do to you? I'm not trying to be boss lady's best buddy, I just want to do what's best and move on. Not going to get in a pissin' match with a person who looks like she's two shakes in the wind (drunk for you young folks). I'll back off. Clearly you didn't think enough of my time and effort to call me and tell me that I wouldn't be making a trip I rescheduled my week for and made arrangements for a production crew to show up last minute only to have little ole two shakes in the wind tell me they could not accommodate the cameraman and I needed to plan these things out with her first before I made such plans because after all only she knows how to run things. Jeez Louise. Again. No worries. I got beat down and made to apologize for standing up for myself last time, so back off. Be humiliated. Let the woman think she got you. Damn, am I not watching enough Oprah and Dr. Phil? Do I need to go back to class and learn to speak up? Am I so stressed about getting paid that I'll put up with crap just to get paid for a crap load of great stuff you couldn't get this cheap? What have I become?
Maybe I did let them kill my spirit a little.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Like bees to honey
So bummed out, had to write two entries today.
So the cousins come to me this week with proposition number five thousand eight hundred and fifty two: "Girl, we gonna make some money". I have to be careful where I do my shameless self- promoting. Cast not thy pearls before swine. Some folks resent the fact that you know what you're doing and try to steal your thunder; Others, just want to steal from you. I'm an equal opportunity thief magnet!
I pride myself on being on top of my game. And while I still have much to learn and am always reading and exploring, I believe that I am miles ahead of many when it comes to my line of business. And while parts of me want to believe that people are drawn to my energy and good spirit, deep down inside, I know they are drawn to what they believe I can do for them. Still difficult for me to understand at times what they see or what they are drawn to, but I think folks just plain ole have schemes and scams on their mind and I must have "Boo Boo the Fool" written on my forehead. 'Guess I'm going to have to pull the old bullshit detector out the closet and strap that puppy to my head, pull on the hip boots and step on out. The cousins are at it again.
Now mind you, I was born in The Village to highly intellectual and cultured parents, with Eastern spiritual views. My name is Sanskrit and my uncle likened me to a little Buddha when I was born. So while I am not religious, I am spiritual and I have been taught to respect every one's beliefs. All that said, I am leery of folks. as I have said before, who tell me to have a "blessed" day, that God sent me their way and that recite Bible versus to me to cover up for the devil's spawn like garbage that they really have in their hearts and intend to spew at me. And because I come from literate folks who put a book and dictionary in my hand before I could walk, I tend to look things up, have a ton of knowledge about a bunch of subjects (and useless things), and I research the web like crazy. Plus I frickin' study those that wear the brown pants and have been navigating the virtual lane for a cool minute. Don't try to tell me about some wack ass web site you built, or some jacked up wannabe third-dimension, slower than hell piece o' crap you frickin' bullied some folks into paying you to build for their wannabe-be-cool-and-down-with-the peeps-asses. Run on sentence I know and I don't care! Thunk. Pop up blocker. Or in this case: poo poo blocker. Are you serious? Your boy built what??? And you want me to help you do what? I can make us rich ? I can have a piece of the profits you build off of me? They have got to be joking. Like I don't know when I'm being stroked and you have that big fish hook dangling? Like I'm not going to drill down and trust my instincts and not get too excited by some snake-oil salesman talk? Like I don't read between the lines, the fine print or hear what you're really saying to me? Do I look so mild mannered and innocent that you think I will be an easy target? Wow. What folks fail to realize is that I have heard it all and seen it all and I can smell you coming with your cheap eau de toilette (translation: toilet water!) wearin' behind. So stay away from me. Not interested in your get rich quick schemes, your plans to make me rich while I bring all the opportunities to the table and do all the work, but only get a fraction of the profits and you borrow money from me because you just had your Benz stolen, or better still I need to pay you a retainer fee for hooking you up with an idea. WTF??? I'm not on my grind, hustle or any of that. I have a legit business (in fact 2), and a host of initiatives which I plan to actuate and see come to fruition on my terms and at my own pace. How about that language, you forked-tongue speakin' fools? And I don't need you to help me help you.
Tomorrow, I'm back to me.
So the cousins come to me this week with proposition number five thousand eight hundred and fifty two: "Girl, we gonna make some money". I have to be careful where I do my shameless self- promoting. Cast not thy pearls before swine. Some folks resent the fact that you know what you're doing and try to steal your thunder; Others, just want to steal from you. I'm an equal opportunity thief magnet!
I pride myself on being on top of my game. And while I still have much to learn and am always reading and exploring, I believe that I am miles ahead of many when it comes to my line of business. And while parts of me want to believe that people are drawn to my energy and good spirit, deep down inside, I know they are drawn to what they believe I can do for them. Still difficult for me to understand at times what they see or what they are drawn to, but I think folks just plain ole have schemes and scams on their mind and I must have "Boo Boo the Fool" written on my forehead. 'Guess I'm going to have to pull the old bullshit detector out the closet and strap that puppy to my head, pull on the hip boots and step on out. The cousins are at it again.
Now mind you, I was born in The Village to highly intellectual and cultured parents, with Eastern spiritual views. My name is Sanskrit and my uncle likened me to a little Buddha when I was born. So while I am not religious, I am spiritual and I have been taught to respect every one's beliefs. All that said, I am leery of folks. as I have said before, who tell me to have a "blessed" day, that God sent me their way and that recite Bible versus to me to cover up for the devil's spawn like garbage that they really have in their hearts and intend to spew at me. And because I come from literate folks who put a book and dictionary in my hand before I could walk, I tend to look things up, have a ton of knowledge about a bunch of subjects (and useless things), and I research the web like crazy. Plus I frickin' study those that wear the brown pants and have been navigating the virtual lane for a cool minute. Don't try to tell me about some wack ass web site you built, or some jacked up wannabe third-dimension, slower than hell piece o' crap you frickin' bullied some folks into paying you to build for their wannabe-be-cool-and-down-with-the peeps-asses. Run on sentence I know and I don't care! Thunk. Pop up blocker. Or in this case: poo poo blocker. Are you serious? Your boy built what??? And you want me to help you do what? I can make us rich ? I can have a piece of the profits you build off of me? They have got to be joking. Like I don't know when I'm being stroked and you have that big fish hook dangling? Like I'm not going to drill down and trust my instincts and not get too excited by some snake-oil salesman talk? Like I don't read between the lines, the fine print or hear what you're really saying to me? Do I look so mild mannered and innocent that you think I will be an easy target? Wow. What folks fail to realize is that I have heard it all and seen it all and I can smell you coming with your cheap eau de toilette (translation: toilet water!) wearin' behind. So stay away from me. Not interested in your get rich quick schemes, your plans to make me rich while I bring all the opportunities to the table and do all the work, but only get a fraction of the profits and you borrow money from me because you just had your Benz stolen, or better still I need to pay you a retainer fee for hooking you up with an idea. WTF??? I'm not on my grind, hustle or any of that. I have a legit business (in fact 2), and a host of initiatives which I plan to actuate and see come to fruition on my terms and at my own pace. How about that language, you forked-tongue speakin' fools? And I don't need you to help me help you.
Tomorrow, I'm back to me.
It's a family affair
Last week, Spring had sprung, my daughter celebrated another birthday, life was groovy and then, like the birds to Capistrano, the cousins came a flockin'!
Cousins come in all shapes and sizes, gender and socio-economic level. Some are smart and some are just smart asses. And some are just dumb as a bag o' rocks. And sometimes, like roaches, they just won't die no matter what kind of industrial strength repellent you use, those suckers just keep comin'. And boy do I try to keep them out of my life. I just want to go about my business, be creative, do my work and be the easy going laid back person that I am. Oh no. The cousins bring their madness and disturb the peace like it's a right of passage. Cousins have the game so twisted they'll have you apologizing to them for crap they started. I haven't had to eat crow in years. And I hate birds. Deathly afraid of them. But the cousins had me go there this week. And when I was making my forced-amends, you could almost hear the cackle and crow of the vultures in the hush of the moment as if I were a fresh piece of meat they couldn't wait to get their claws into. Frickin' harpies. I digress. Ping. Damn there they go again, frickin' email alert. But I'm determined to find some solace in this blog. Not going to let them take this away from me too. Tried to rob me of my dignity, ignore my comments and input, using me as the sacrificial lamb, forcing me to want to give up on the cousins for good. Wouldn't let them. So I'll get back to this blog and ignore them for now. Damn old birds.
So, not a good week for TV watching. Maybe Best Week EVER or The Soup will have found some foolishness for me to get a kick out of. Haven't even taken pleasure in trying to spot some brown pants. Cousins got me rattled. Just make me want to put on my roach stompers and destroy. Maybe some House music and a little Spring cleaning. Time to clear out the closet and make way for some fierce new clothes and shoes. Although I can only drool over some of the shoes. Had two back to back major foot surgeries, haven't been right since. Not good for a person who loves to get on the "good foot". That's it. I need to blast some James Brown and get my groove back.
Try this thing later when I'm feeling less anxious. Less tuned into the madness of the cousins and their fakery and dishonesty, laziness and nerve. Love my family. Hate the cousins.
Cousins come in all shapes and sizes, gender and socio-economic level. Some are smart and some are just smart asses. And some are just dumb as a bag o' rocks. And sometimes, like roaches, they just won't die no matter what kind of industrial strength repellent you use, those suckers just keep comin'. And boy do I try to keep them out of my life. I just want to go about my business, be creative, do my work and be the easy going laid back person that I am. Oh no. The cousins bring their madness and disturb the peace like it's a right of passage. Cousins have the game so twisted they'll have you apologizing to them for crap they started. I haven't had to eat crow in years. And I hate birds. Deathly afraid of them. But the cousins had me go there this week. And when I was making my forced-amends, you could almost hear the cackle and crow of the vultures in the hush of the moment as if I were a fresh piece of meat they couldn't wait to get their claws into. Frickin' harpies. I digress. Ping. Damn there they go again, frickin' email alert. But I'm determined to find some solace in this blog. Not going to let them take this away from me too. Tried to rob me of my dignity, ignore my comments and input, using me as the sacrificial lamb, forcing me to want to give up on the cousins for good. Wouldn't let them. So I'll get back to this blog and ignore them for now. Damn old birds.
So, not a good week for TV watching. Maybe Best Week EVER or The Soup will have found some foolishness for me to get a kick out of. Haven't even taken pleasure in trying to spot some brown pants. Cousins got me rattled. Just make me want to put on my roach stompers and destroy. Maybe some House music and a little Spring cleaning. Time to clear out the closet and make way for some fierce new clothes and shoes. Although I can only drool over some of the shoes. Had two back to back major foot surgeries, haven't been right since. Not good for a person who loves to get on the "good foot". That's it. I need to blast some James Brown and get my groove back.
Try this thing later when I'm feeling less anxious. Less tuned into the madness of the cousins and their fakery and dishonesty, laziness and nerve. Love my family. Hate the cousins.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
And you don't stop
Finally, a moment to myself when I can write. Man have I missed doing this.
So, in my day to day I spend a great deal of time writing for other people. Creating for other people. Planning and developing for other people. Dream realization for other people. Happy to help, but enough is enough already. Most times, get paid well to help while others "sleep" on things. Wake up. When are folks going to have the brass ones to do dreaming of their own. Jeez Louise! I digress.
So the other day, I read the blog about "things white people like" and I got to thinking about what colored folks like to do, and I realized that's been done by every comic on BET's Comicview, so I'll concentrate on my observations I'd like to add to that most clever of blogs: Brown pants. What's with the brown pants? Only white men wear brown pants and Black UPS workers. And white men wear them often, sometimes everyday (worked with a few folks who were guilty of that so these are facts folks!) And not good brown pants. Usually polyester, or wrinkled cotton, or corduroy, or khaki. Khaki falls in the brown family. I don't get it. Go out and compare how many Black men you see in brown pants and then how many non-colored men. See? Huge disparity between the groups. Maybe it's some secret cult uniform. I remember when I was a kid and we had gone to Spain for the first time, Ibiza to be exact. Back in the 60's and the tie-dye thing was big. But we had been out of America for a while, so we were not familiar with the Hippie-fashion trend. And my Mom (smartest and most stylish woman I have ever known) and I were quite intrigued by these shirts we saw popping up everywhere. Like maybe they were in a vacation group and had to wear the same shirt for easy identification. Ha! So my Mom asked or maybe I did. Next thing we had the shirts. But never the multi-colored ones. We had solid- color ones. Blue. Green and a yellow one. I remember wearing it around in Paris after vacation. Folks thought I was cool. But back to the brown pants. I don't understand the fascination. I have my theories. But I'll just go on counting how many brown-pant sightings I come across in a week. That's more fun.
Then I wanted to talk about fake-busy people. When I worked a corporate gig, the thing to do was complain about the amount of work you had and the little time to do it in. I guess if we had spent less time talking about how busy we were and doing the work, we'd have nothing to talk about. We'd be faking doing work because we'd be done with the real still. So now in my self-employed life, the excuse for not returning my calls or failing to remember something promised, or my name even, is blamed on how busy folks are. Usually the fake-busy person is some wannabe-busy and important person. I often have to bite my tongue and keep from cussin' this type of person out. I'm busy too, fool! And you are wasting my time. You're a fake-busy person time-waster is what you really are! Do some real work and get a real life and hump at 12;30am on a Saturday like I do, and then maybe you can fain amnesia and being void of energy and time to call me back because I'll believe you are in to something other than the way! Fake-busy people--go do something.
Now I'll end on the social network thing. Wow. I need to get out more. I belong to all these groups and keep getting invited to more. I can't keep up. It's like a job trying to maintain the profiles and postings and all that jazz. And the folks who use this thing for shameless self -promotion. Get a separate blog or profile for that and quit spamming me! I don't eat mystery meat and as Spam is called: "The meat of many uses", so don't serve it to me! And quit assuming that my day isn't "blessed" and that I don't know that Bill Gates is giving away millions because they saw it on the Today Show. I watch that program 7 days a week, I have NEVER seen Bill on the show talking about giving me money for emailing anything around the world and back LOL!
I digress. The Internet and the social network thing has been a blessing for me. I connected with family I only knew of and heard about, but with whom I now have a genuine connection. Something I needed and had longed for in my real-busy life.
That's it.
So, in my day to day I spend a great deal of time writing for other people. Creating for other people. Planning and developing for other people. Dream realization for other people. Happy to help, but enough is enough already. Most times, get paid well to help while others "sleep" on things. Wake up. When are folks going to have the brass ones to do dreaming of their own. Jeez Louise! I digress.
So the other day, I read the blog about "things white people like" and I got to thinking about what colored folks like to do, and I realized that's been done by every comic on BET's Comicview, so I'll concentrate on my observations I'd like to add to that most clever of blogs: Brown pants. What's with the brown pants? Only white men wear brown pants and Black UPS workers. And white men wear them often, sometimes everyday (worked with a few folks who were guilty of that so these are facts folks!) And not good brown pants. Usually polyester, or wrinkled cotton, or corduroy, or khaki. Khaki falls in the brown family. I don't get it. Go out and compare how many Black men you see in brown pants and then how many non-colored men. See? Huge disparity between the groups. Maybe it's some secret cult uniform. I remember when I was a kid and we had gone to Spain for the first time, Ibiza to be exact. Back in the 60's and the tie-dye thing was big. But we had been out of America for a while, so we were not familiar with the Hippie-fashion trend. And my Mom (smartest and most stylish woman I have ever known) and I were quite intrigued by these shirts we saw popping up everywhere. Like maybe they were in a vacation group and had to wear the same shirt for easy identification. Ha! So my Mom asked or maybe I did. Next thing we had the shirts. But never the multi-colored ones. We had solid- color ones. Blue. Green and a yellow one. I remember wearing it around in Paris after vacation. Folks thought I was cool. But back to the brown pants. I don't understand the fascination. I have my theories. But I'll just go on counting how many brown-pant sightings I come across in a week. That's more fun.
Then I wanted to talk about fake-busy people. When I worked a corporate gig, the thing to do was complain about the amount of work you had and the little time to do it in. I guess if we had spent less time talking about how busy we were and doing the work, we'd have nothing to talk about. We'd be faking doing work because we'd be done with the real still. So now in my self-employed life, the excuse for not returning my calls or failing to remember something promised, or my name even, is blamed on how busy folks are. Usually the fake-busy person is some wannabe-busy and important person. I often have to bite my tongue and keep from cussin' this type of person out. I'm busy too, fool! And you are wasting my time. You're a fake-busy person time-waster is what you really are! Do some real work and get a real life and hump at 12;30am on a Saturday like I do, and then maybe you can fain amnesia and being void of energy and time to call me back because I'll believe you are in to something other than the way! Fake-busy people--go do something.
Now I'll end on the social network thing. Wow. I need to get out more. I belong to all these groups and keep getting invited to more. I can't keep up. It's like a job trying to maintain the profiles and postings and all that jazz. And the folks who use this thing for shameless self -promotion. Get a separate blog or profile for that and quit spamming me! I don't eat mystery meat and as Spam is called: "The meat of many uses", so don't serve it to me! And quit assuming that my day isn't "blessed" and that I don't know that Bill Gates is giving away millions because they saw it on the Today Show. I watch that program 7 days a week, I have NEVER seen Bill on the show talking about giving me money for emailing anything around the world and back LOL!
I digress. The Internet and the social network thing has been a blessing for me. I connected with family I only knew of and heard about, but with whom I now have a genuine connection. Something I needed and had longed for in my real-busy life.
That's it.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
I'm cool like that
Finally, decided to try this blog thing again. Been threatening to do it for some time. Been asked to do it for even longer. Just lazy or scared. Or both. Maybe because I spend a great deal of time writing to earn my keep. Or maybe I got spooked by someone who didn't like my writing and what I had to say. Killed my spirit. Then I read an article today about fear, and how we let it keep us from success and doing the things we were meant to. Best advice from the article was adopting a "so what" attitude. So nobody likes the fact that you do your thing and are fierce. So what. So nobody cares about what you have to say or where you've been or where you're going. So what. So you've done more than you can remember and still have more to do. So what. (Part of my fear of not leaving a legacy makes me do too much.) I like to write. I have something to say and I'm going to say it. So what! I just want to be clever and witty and funny and have this thing read.(My fear of failure) But even if it isn't--so what. HA!
Been on a journey for some time now. From the Village Circa '58, to Paris back to the USA and NY, down to Texas out West and Cali way, down to the Dirty and back home again. Yes, New York is my home and where I was meant to be. Coming back was easy and staying was hard at first. I save that story for another day. That's the part of my journey that let's me know I was meant to stay here, because it showed me what I'm truly made of.
So I guess this must be the right time to start this thing and share a piece of me. My conversations with myself. My observations. My encounters with the "cousins". My wit and wisdom. My how-to-do and become anything. My madness and ideas. My inspirations and shameless self-promotion. My picks and pans. My rants and raves. My love of House (music that is). My secrets to success and lessons from the failures. My fears (I still have some, just don't let folks know I do). And just what makes me cool like that. In case you didn't know: being humble is so 2007! (Thanks Ms. Badu for that how-you-like-me-now so-what-ism!)
Let's start the night off with a little TV recap- I love this season of Big Brother! I don't know who the producers are, or who lit a fire under the casting director's butt, but the drama is to die for! The challenges are still wack as hell, but the backstabbing and drama is worth ever minute of my 3 nights a week of time wasting! Hell, every night I'm glued to the TV. Except Friday. No. I take that back. The Soup and Best Week EVER! and then Free Radio. Then I'm good. Saturday is the sucky night. Guess I should be out clubbin' and trolling for talent. And I will. As soon as summer hits.
OK. That's it. I'm done. Plus I'm tired and I'm not feeling so witty. Read this incredibly clever blog today "Things White People Like to Do"...Frickin' funny. Trying to be like that writer for sure. Just can't do it tonight, but I will bring it. Blow all these fools clear out the water with their pansy prose and gooey gossip. I got some gossip for your a...! OK, OK...I'm cool. I'm out. Thanks for this forum who ever you are who came up with this blogging thingy...
Been on a journey for some time now. From the Village Circa '58, to Paris back to the USA and NY, down to Texas out West and Cali way, down to the Dirty and back home again. Yes, New York is my home and where I was meant to be. Coming back was easy and staying was hard at first. I save that story for another day. That's the part of my journey that let's me know I was meant to stay here, because it showed me what I'm truly made of.
So I guess this must be the right time to start this thing and share a piece of me. My conversations with myself. My observations. My encounters with the "cousins". My wit and wisdom. My how-to-do and become anything. My madness and ideas. My inspirations and shameless self-promotion. My picks and pans. My rants and raves. My love of House (music that is). My secrets to success and lessons from the failures. My fears (I still have some, just don't let folks know I do). And just what makes me cool like that. In case you didn't know: being humble is so 2007! (Thanks Ms. Badu for that how-you-like-me-now so-what-ism!)
Let's start the night off with a little TV recap- I love this season of Big Brother! I don't know who the producers are, or who lit a fire under the casting director's butt, but the drama is to die for! The challenges are still wack as hell, but the backstabbing and drama is worth ever minute of my 3 nights a week of time wasting! Hell, every night I'm glued to the TV. Except Friday. No. I take that back. The Soup and Best Week EVER! and then Free Radio. Then I'm good. Saturday is the sucky night. Guess I should be out clubbin' and trolling for talent. And I will. As soon as summer hits.
OK. That's it. I'm done. Plus I'm tired and I'm not feeling so witty. Read this incredibly clever blog today "Things White People Like to Do"...Frickin' funny. Trying to be like that writer for sure. Just can't do it tonight, but I will bring it. Blow all these fools clear out the water with their pansy prose and gooey gossip. I got some gossip for your a...! OK, OK...I'm cool. I'm out. Thanks for this forum who ever you are who came up with this blogging thingy...
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