5 posts from September 2009

Thank you Woffsilog, for sharing this HufPo piece.

Blueprint 3 came out... and well it made me cry three times. Waxed nostalgic for NYC and my old self.

HAD to resurrect this one and pair it with this audio clip though. Not like Jay had seen my shit, but hilarious to me nonetheless.

There are those songs, that you come across where you neither like, nor dislike the artist, but nonetheless the song just hits you a certain way...

I've had a lot of those lately.

Then there are those songs that you find hidden deep in your iTunes library that you forgot were there, again an artist you're pretty much indifferent to– maybe someone put it on a mix for you, maybe you're like me and felt as bad/non-significant as the song might be you may "need it later" for a "never going to happen but I can still dream I'm doing a one woman show" type deal. And that song hits you, hits you hard.

I never really denied the power of music, but I don't know that I take full advantage of its awesomeness. And then, amid finally feeling like I'm on the road to get my head right– despite a crazy summer/last month I remembered this hook.

"Now we can ball seven days, six nights

If that head and that p***y get right
Hey, match ya panties with ya bras get ya shit together
Go get ya hair and nails done get ya shit together"

All I could think was "SANG IT T.I. Sannnnnng it."

Yet another mantra to add to the many I've tried to come up with to, indeed get my head right (I'm pretty sure those lyrics are not accurate, but I don't care. I come from a family that invents their own. I hear what I wanna hear).

I took a mini vacation last weekend and the following learnings helped me get my shit together... though I can't promise it actually involves matching my bra and my draws.

• Experiencing something for the first time, can often ground you and remind you of who you are and what you love. Case in point; Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles.

• Having little faces great you in the morning, saying "Good Morning Auntie Magtonic" while scratching their bellies and yawning" is a pretty rad start to your day.

• Sometimes seeing something abnormal, that you wouldn't normally care about can pull at your inner "smooo mooo" and make you have the excitement of a 5 year old.
  

• Writing your thesis in your bathing suit makes for such a productive day.

• No matter how much you believe this will change, your oldest friend is eye candy for the ladies and will get better service than you in restaurants, so start asking him to use that to get you free drinks or desserts.

• It's okay that you aren't ready to drink in an airport bar alone. According to DG, "you can drink alone at an airport bar once you hit 50. It is actually quite liberating to be a crone. Nobody messes with you and you don't give a shit if they do."

• And lastly, Long Beach Airport, is still Long Beach.

First this... 

I have a confession. I secretly (and not so secretly) idolize Tina Fey. I remember reading an article about her in The Onion a few years ago that said that by the time she was 25 she was already head writer at SNL– a not so on point but close enough dream of my own.

I'm 26 now. Going through it and nowhere near achieving that level of "want" in life. Don't necessarily have the life I want, but oh... oh how I have my sense of humor.

For what its worth though, the last few weeks have left me trying to get my head straight, and I think I'm successfully on that path (more on that later). In the process though, I'm not sure how I would have gotten through any of it were it nor for my ability to laugh.

Examples Include:

A friend suggesting I needed to find "hella appropriate swag" whatever that is.

A Tracey Jordan/Morgan quote from 30 Rock: "Stop eating people's old french fries pigeon. Have some self respect! Don't you know you could fly?"

The following quote: "as the great pamela anderson once said 'writing in a bikini is always better'" (Paraphrased).

But this... this was the best.

Back story: My best friends all live in different states (well, I guess I could say both physically and mentally) than I. I mentioned that when in some sort of crisis there are only 3 that seem to react to me in all the right ways, be it pushing me or leaving me be.

 Result: J-Boog suggesting we play a game wherein we debate what two other people we would genetically combine ourselves with if we had to/could.

Within seconds I randomly chose another ambiguously raced person I know, and Obama to... I believe as I put it "create a super race... just see what the mix would look like."

J-Boog proceeded to go off, saying that it didn't need to have a purpose, if it had a purpose he might as well have tried to become the most amazing basketball player ever.

I went off about combining myself with J-Lo or Catherine Zeta-Jones to get some uber beauty (by my definition), if that's what we were talking about (as he'd turned to think of dashing men to combine himself with). This led to possibly uniting my favorite comedy entities... Tina Fey, Luciell Ball... and so on...

HE then came up with the best combination ever.

"I'd totally combine with Tina Fey... NO..." screamed my Jewish J-Boog. "I'd combine with Andy Samberg (current SNL cast member) and... like an intense gentile...." He paused to think. "OH THE POPE"

It makes no sense, its totally ridiculous. But it got me through a few days of nonsense. So here my friends... after at least two hours of figuring out how to do this... is J-Boog, Andy Samberg and an intense gentile.

There's something oddly sad about it.