Just got back from taking my mother to Venus Magazine's cover party at Soul Café — featuring my man Rockmond Dunbar! *SWOON!* Okay, enough swooning over straight men ... then Moms and I went over to Zen Palate and truly dined. The food there is just amazing!
March 2002 Archives
Ordem e Progresso! Stay tuned for the latest Anzidesign production! And my mother's coming to visit me this weekend! That will be really swell! Even more swell that the new iMac commercial - featuring this cute Black man, y'all. Well, that's swell, but not as swell as Moms ...
Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day for March 19 is:
detoxify \dee-TAHK-suh-fye\ (verb)
*1 : to remove a poison or toxin or the effect of such from
2 : to free (as a drug user) from an intoxicating or
addictive substance or from dependence on it
3 : neutralize
It's cold and grey today, but dreary? Nah — especially when the soundtrack of the morning is the album Todd Terry recorded under the name of House Of Gypsies called Gypsyland ... damn, that's house music! Lots of tribalistic tendencies! Yeah, and good luck trying to find it!
GO BANG, BABY, GO BANG!
I've had some very evil and destructive thoughts today. I know I could be a real asshole if I wanted to be. I'm intelligent enough to know how to REALLY cause some damage. But at what cost? Asking myself that question is what is keeping me from going off the deep end and really showing my ass like I want to ...
“The language of love
has left me stony grey;
tongue tied and twisted
at the price I've had to pay.
Your careless notions
have silenced these emotions.
Look at all the foolishness
your lover's talk has done ...”
— Who's That Girl?, by the Eurythmics
Okay, somebody uses the word "apology" in a sentence. Is a sentence considered an apology simply because it contains an occurrence of some form of the word? Hmmmm, it might be time to give someone else some space, too. Maybe when I'm in the high life again, I'll be worth hanging around ...
As I was walking down 125th Street, whose car did I just happen to run into, parked right in front of The Body Shop? Yup, and I'm glad that he gets the fucking point. Now I can run on, like Oprah!
It's so sunny outside! It must be in the mid to high 50s. I feel so good, but I'm a little sore. During my morning stroll I remembered a dream I had last night — I dreamt that I was walking home from work, specifically from Columbia University, and it was sunny just like it is today. Hmmmm - wouldn't THAT be nice?
I mean, it shouldn't matter that he brought the guy that I suspect that he's currently fucking up into my house. It shouldn't matter that the guy just happened to be in Harlem so he could hitch a ride. And it shouldn't matter that, upon asking about their plans for the rest of the evening, that they BOTH became very shifty-eyed and dumbfounded.
Well, it shouldn't matter, but it does, because I was FURIOUS!!! So, I have to make an executive decision and push him further away than I originally intended. I won't be returning his calls for a while. I don't need to know what he's doing everyday, he doesn't need to call everyday and he won't be stopping by whenever he chooses to. And I sure hope he stops parking his car in front of my house. It was cute for a while, even after we annulled what was going on between us, but it's not cute anymore ...
Yesterday, I began my Corrida ao Brasil! Well, it's starting out more like a caminhada than a corrida because I tried jogging and almost had a heart attack! So, today I did a brisk walk for 50 minutes and I think I'm going to do it again later tonight.
The search for work intensifies. I'm GOING to Brasil in August.
My true love invests long days in navigating the landscape of my soul;
sometimes taking mental notes,
sometimes challenging me with comments or actions,
sometimes doing absolutely nothing
but reveling in the paradox of my beauty.
My true love knows how to make me understand him.
My true love looks into my eyes and tells me the truth,
in love,
even if the prick of its pin might startle me
or make me wince from the bit of pain.
My true love hungers for the sound of my voice
and would never demand my silence.
My true love dissents, occasionally,
but would never suggest that I sacrifice my growth.
My true love is electrified by the thought of my lips.
They don't even have to be doing anything.
The work of my true love's life is to learn my wants and needs,
to give them to me as only he can.
My true love is committed to loving me as I am
even though he knows exactly who I am,
even though he knows that I will change
and even though he doesn't know how.
There is more to my true love than meets the eye for he is not ordinary.
I am the prototype of my true love.
