Admitting things to myself.

Admitting things to myself.

I'm not going to write about it here.  Because these are notes for me.  I don't need to take notes on someone I'm happy to learn things about.  When I get down to the most vulnerable of feelings about it, I want to be his.  And I want him to be mine.  Not the physical.  That is simply a bonus (I think less of people who use the phrase “added bonus”. Re: “liking your own Facebook status”).  What makes me feel the most vulnerable is the feeling that I want to open things to him and tell him about the world when I feel it.  And I do.  And I just speak and feel and drink in the truth like chamomile tea and get nervous at the same time in those moments we are together.  These are the last things I'm writing about him because I'm going to learn to store it in here [I am pointing to my head].  A memory of slow dancing to Stevie Nicks’ Bella Donna makes me want him to try my mother’s collard greens.  Does any of that make sense?  Nikki Giovanni would ask if this were a silly poem… in that way she says “poem” reminding me of her, at times adorable, Tennessee accent.   And I would remind you that this is not a poem.  These are notes for me.  Notes for me to remember.  And these are the last things I'm going to write about here.  I am eating lunch the day after Thanksgiving, getting insulted by my family in the only way they know how, and thinking about when I’ll get back to see him.  And what song will be playing.  And how I found Sarah’s “Fumbling Towards Ecstasy” in a pile on my music room floor.  It’s scratchy, but it still sounds the same.  All of this is good.  This moment is wonderful.  And when I get down to the most vulnerable of feelings about it, I want to be his.  And I want this to be mine.

I've always been envious of Jessica Lange

On fear, perception, and American Horror Story.

Fearsome is what you may think of me. 

I have been told this before. 

Prone to rants to my therapist, these thoughts of yours used to trouble me. 

My being fearsome is more your problem. 

 

Trust me, it’s just the shoes.

Do I intimidate you?  What are you afraid of? 

Fearful.  Now, that I will never show you. 

I’ll make a sausage stuffing that will reveal so much to you, but you will never be told of what I am fearful.  Surprisingly, if we’d continued in the fashion we were styled (dinners, social gatherings, a happy hour, even the occasional coffee shop), I may have told you a few of them.

When I am an old woman, I shall wear black and call myself Fiona Goode. 

I’ve always been a fan of the macabre, although I do not enjoy scary movies.

This is a life of perceptions.  So, I am aware of what you think of me.  Meh.

Does her name have to be Queenie?

Top 10. A Day Late, and 6'5" in heels.

Saying it.  Top 10’ing it.  Leaving it all behind.

1. There are cinematic pairings that remind me of portions of my relationship with my sisters Melissa H. and Amy Lynn Z-H.  Sometimes I think of us as a spell-casting family looking for and navigating through love as if we were versions of Nicole Kidman and Sandra Bullock in “Practical Magic”.  Other times, and if we’ve remained seated through our first 2 martinis, we could be a ragtag group of unlikely bank robbers lead by a very fierce Queen Latifah in “Set It Off”.  Since I’ve met them, I have had visions of us buying a convertible and bringing utter havoc to some desert region of the country in a mix up of “Thelma & Louise” with “Too Wong Foo: Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar”.  If sisters we are, then sisters we be – as long as I am the Jessica Lange in “Crimes of the Heart” sister.  And maybe the movie hasn’t been written yet.  That’s for the best.  That would mean our story was over and had already happened.  I love these women.  And I respect, honor, and celebrate the thing we will always have.

2. Swimming in a sea of wonderful things to be thankful for over the past weekend, I was still involved in a small hit and run, and I’d like to clear it up now, once and for ever.  Mass texts, individual texts, emails, phone calls, Facebook wall-postings; all of these were used last week to send forms of impersonal well-wishings on TGives to many.  An old friend, who I don’t feel like naming (oddly) reached out to me via text.  The text read:

1. “Boo, I miss you.  I wanted to wish you a wonderful Thanksgiving and to let you know how thankful I am for you.  I hate that I haven’t seen you in forever.  This job is killing me.  Can we fix that soon?  When can we catch up?  I really miss you.  I can’t wait to hear what you did to Curtis and that other fool.”

                                               i.     I thought I had finished weeding through the gossip queens earlier this year.  Alas, a few are still swimming.

                                             ii.     Hopefully, this will be the last time I mention this highly insignificant (only in terms of social hierarchy) situation.

1.     It is easier to make a known “bad-guy” like me continue to be the “bad guy”, than to have the curtain pulled back on yourself to reveal the truth.  Curtis Wiley was caught in a lie.  He and I are no longer friends.  People can stop asking me about it.

3. I have a friend.  His name is Vinnie.  Brother.  Sister.  Best Friend.  Confidant.  Traveling Companion.   Fitting Room Advisor.  Question Asker.  Video Game Player.  Food Sharer.  We love to eat.  It’s probably best that no one ever follows through with our invitations to our annual trip to Rehoboth Beach, Delaware, because the food shaming I feel an outsider would give us is not fair.  We’ve never ordered two meals each.  Never.  If you can ever eat yourself into a food coma at the table with a friend, a friend who will also undo his top button at the table with you, then you’ve found someone who is supposed to be in your life always.  30 days hath November, right?  Well, I’m not doing that ridiculous 30 days of thanks crap that people are doing.  I've never been happier to see December 1st.  There are too many days in the year for me to just section off one and dedicate to how glad I am that Vinnie is in my life.  The ledges I have stood perched upon (balancing ever so carefully atop my already shaky soapbox) have been not so scary knowing that he is in my corner, and I will always be in his.  And even if I do leap from said ledge, I know that somehow he’d make it down to wherever I landed and help to put back the pieces of whatever part of me was destroyed in the fall.  This bond is something to honor every day.

4. I usually bring a book with me to make it through any sort of family, holiday function.  Last week I chose to read “August: Osage County”.  Choosing to read through that Act 2 dining room scene just minutes before Thanksgiving Dinner was, at first glance, not a wise decision.  Who could have imagined dinner would have gone so smoothly?  You don’t usually get your feelings hurt until lunch the next day anyway.

5. For someone who claims not to like people, I certainly do seem to like what I do.  There is a strange thing called "sympathy" when someone walks into your room to get on your table and they have an injury.  Pain and Stress, which are sisters themselves, show up in every fiber of our five minute meeting.  When I see your body relax on my table, hear you lightly snoring, or even see a slight smile on your almost sleeping face, I know I have done my job.  It is more rewarding than I knew it could be.

6. Don’t they all “shock the judges”?  So, why did you really post the clip?  And when can it stop?

7. She WILL show up to something if it’s free won’t she?

1. And stop liking/commenting on things from 3 months ago.  Girl, pick up the phone and say "Hi".

8. Erin Biddle-Sirop and I used to pound the pavement like feminist warriors.  Teammates.  Rebels.  Listening to the best music ever.  I just found a mix tape, and I’m going IN.

9. I see you using Instagram for porn.  I’m not judging you.  I just want you to know that I see you.

10. I’m taking a break from all social media.  I’m taking a break from all social media.  I’m taking a break from all social media.  I’m taking a break from all social media.  I’m taking a break from all social media.  I’m taking a break from all social media. 

1. I had to type it out a few times to make it sound true to myself.  It is unhealthy in a lot of ways.  I like music with instructions in it.  I’ve been pretty damn happy recently, and I’d like to follow what The System said in, I believe, 1987.  “Don’t Disturb This Groove”.  I won’t be deleting any profiles, and there are some things already scheduled to be posted, but these will be done by the end of the week.  I may even take a picture and file it somewhere.  Who knows?  I’m unsure what my rules are just yet.

 

2. I may write a bit.  None of this can be done without remarking that I will miss checking in on the people and things I care about in that way we all do on social media.  I will even miss the people and things we outwardly say we don’t care about, but continue to stalk.  I don’t care what you ate for dinner, or what your Christmas tree looks like, but sometimes I actually do.  There’s the battle.  So, who wins here?  I don’t know how long the break will be or what I will learn.  The “Hey, I can quit anytime I want” speech that most addicts give is all I hope to test for now.

3. If you need me, I’ll be available via email (remember that old nugget) at jjamesj@gmail.com or you could actually call me…if you have yet to block my phone number.

                                               i.     “If you need me, me and Neil will be hanging out with the dream king.” 

Central Park and other reasons to remove your blouse in winter

I think about the honest moments to create.  Then I realize I’m trying to create a moment, thus negating the honesty I wanted that moment to have.   I even found four different ways to type the previous two sentences.  I typed them, then deleted, then tried the next.  I also just lied.  I only found 2 ways, but I still tried. 

So much that we do (almost too much) is postured and planned.  Navigation is tricky and does require some thought.  The spontaneity of things is what grows less and less nowadays.  I can picture it in my head.  Even if it’s as simple as a thought of me sitting in a field in the middle of summer, my shirt off, my shoes off, playing with a blade of grass as it wraps around the bass of an imperfect flower.  My pants are grey, possibly linen.  I’ve taken my sunglasses off.  They are resting on my shirt, which gives the appearance of being folded while lying on the grass next to me.  The glasses were removed to closer inspect the supposed natural flaws of this beautiful (to me) flower.  I see a photograph of this moment in my head.  I conjure it.  I smell the flower so vividly, I am can almost put it into words (I often have trouble describing the smell of something good.  Words leave me.).  This moment happens by chance.  It is the perfect (again, to me) August day.  A Tuesday, perhaps, after a visit to my therapist on the Upper East Side, walking back through Central Park and the sun and the spirit and the heat and the joy and the emptying and filling up of it all moved me to lie in a field and take my shirt off to feel the sun beating down on my back and neck. 

Because I have conjured this and downloaded it to my biological hard drive, does that mean I have fallen victim to the posturing if I choose to recreate the beautiful photograph from my head next August?  I don’t believe so.  It is not posturing.  This is all too fast.  This world.  This technology.  These feelings.  How did that happen, by the way?  Is there that much technology and fast-paced flashiness, that our feelings have had to become more fleeting just to make due/amends with the barrage of passwords, and file sizes, and domain names, and security codes, and electricity that we must take in from around us? 

So maybe I’m just taking notes so I don’t forget.  That’s what notes are for.  If I choose to recreate this beautiful (to me) photograph next summer, I will be sure to let you know.  I will also be sure not to let myself think I’m forcing something, or posing for something or someone else.  And if I continue to be aware of these things, and take my notes (photographs in my brain), and do my homework (dealing with the electricity), who knows where I’ll be when the spirit moves me?  Secretly, I’m hoping to end up lying in a field in Central Park with my shirt off, looking at or for the perfect imperfect flower in my grey linen pants in the middle of a snowstorm this winter.

Today's Top 10... and yes, that's Judi Dench.

Today’s Top 10

1. There are very few black gay artists who want to talk about their artistic process from a place of truth.  I’ve seen several fakers, who are really only fakers because they lack the knowledge to converse about much beyond riffs, vocal “bestiality”, and that Beyonce Knowles-Carter person.  I cannot dumb-it-down to talk about art.  I will not.  For this reason, I will always support black gay artists who speak the truth.  [Learn about my friend Michael R. Jackson]

2. Burping up Wendy’s is one of my favorite emotions.

3. I used to hear “I won’t be able to make it to your party if Larry is coming” from many dear friends.  Recently, I think I’ve done quite well at getting my name put on just the right people’s lips.  Long Live 2013!!  I’m going to miss her when she’s gone.  (The year, not the poverty)

4. An unanswered email shows no home training.  An unanswered text is actually seen by the person you are ignoring in most cases.  As is the unanswered Facebook message.  My ability not to call you out by first and last name when all I’m trying to do is schedule dinner for two supposed old friends to catch up, is called restraint.  #AlmaCheckYourInBox

5. A few years ago, I met and worked with a woman named Raena White, who looked me and a fellow cast mate in the eye and said “I don’t believe in gay.  I mean, you must know that what you’re doing is wrong, right?”  We ceased speaking for the remainder of the contract.  We ceased speaking for the remainder of our unfortunately shared time on this planet.  Currently, she is a “singer” about town with a huge gay following, who has no idea she doesn’t actually believe in them (like we are Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy).  Sometimes I feel like I am the only one who’s stood his ground and denounced her any time her name has come up.

6. If you have to call it ArtPop, it’s neither.

7. I’m learning a great deal about Fleetwood Mac over the last day or so.  That was a band.  A team.  Creating that much art in such close proximity to that much emotion, and having it truly stand the test of time as some of the best music of the last 40 years, is truly a testament.  I couldn’t imagine what would come out of me each day at work, if that much emotionally scarred paperwork were left in the conference room.

8. I talk about both of them enough, but I don’t know if you know this.  The things I’ve learned in this life from Geraldine and Big James have made me who I am today. 

1. Geraldine taught me, and continues to teach me, how to cook.  Like a science.  She is the reason I wanted to learn how to play that weird box with the 88 keys that made a noise called music. 

2. Big James taught me that we were going to change one of the traditional meanings of our name.  One of the meanings of “James”, I believe in some sort of religious setting, was “one who follows” (albeit with a capital “F”).  He taught me at a very young age that it was going to be very important for me to “Lead”.  I think of that every day.  He taught/teaches me to be the best at whatever it is that I want to do.  And not best meaning “better than someone else”.  Best meaning, be the best that you can be…for you…with what you have.  If you think it’s the best, then it is.  He taught me that it’s more important what I think about it, than what anyone else does.  I think that’s cool.  And I get it now.

9. Shonda Rhimes talks too fast.

10. I’ve been spending Sunday in the exact way that I’ve wanted to spend Sunday over the last few months.   There have been naps, and food, and music history, and foliage, and Greek food, and naps, and my cell phone has died (re: DNR), and drives, and mix tapes, and naps, and discussing what you want out of where you are heading, and where you’re heading because of what you want, and cooking, and a dog, and cats, and advice, and art.  And it is for me.  It may not be for you.  If you hear about it and you don’t run away, I thank you.  I love hearing what is for you just as much.  Tell me about your Sunday.

A BONUS…..

11. When you get a text or an email or a phone call from Elliot Roth saying “You need to listen to this –“, You stop what you are doing and follow the directions of whatever is on the other side of that hyphen. 

Also, I am thrilled to take the end of the year and dedicate it to work, reflecting, and getting back to my OWN (both the channel and me).  But here's two little things.... 

(1) Hey Boston, what if I came to you in February?  We're working that out.  Would you come?  

And y'all... This thing that happened below changes me every time I get to sing it.  If you don't follow her, you're rude.  She'll be doing a show of her own at Joe's Pub in early February.  And She and I are working on something together for March.  Stay tuned, NYC.  

(2) Would you come to "The Gospel of Joni"?  

Sidebar....I'm making lotions for Christmas presents.  Get into it!

Today's Top 10... We're back, kids!

I had to take a minute...  But I'm back.  We took the last two weeks off to address some minor issues.  Do forgive.  There's a lot to discuss.  Hirings, firings, run-ins, and worn out welcomes.  Let's get started.

Today’s Top 10

Think of just how powerful we could be if we supported each other even 1/8^th as much as we thought we were in the lead.  If professionalism were the race, art were goal, and ego wasn’t allowed to compete, what would we do with all those extra blue ribbons?

1. I want to walk slower and mean it.  I’ve been practicing over the last few days.  It’s difficult.

2. I recently reprimanded what I believe was a 9 year old, who I overheard saying “Shawty got booty” in reference, I believe, to his substitute teacher.  I am a firm believer that his mother is probably 13 years older than him and has, subsequently, taught him no better.

3. It bothers me that we are discussing the box office numbers of “The Best Man Holiday” and the film’s apparent race issues instead of furthering the discussion on “12 Years A Slave”, which has left me far more effected than anything Morris Chestnut has ever provided.

4. I had “Free-Sample” lunch while passing through the mall yesterday.

1. Also, I stood in line the other night with approximately 12 homeless people on the corner of 38^th and Broadway waiting for free pizza from a shop that was closing at 11PM.  I had two free slices.  And I’m not mad.

5. A clean desk is a dirty mind, which is a terrible thing to waste, like spilled milk, unless you’re crying.

6. Last month, I worked for free (and on my birthday).  This month, I tried to work with some people I thought were a few things; friends, professional, advanced-in-their-careers, not coke heads who used to beat their lovers.  I wonder what next month will bring.  Ooh, Christmas.

1. Recently, a performer/previous guest/surface-friend let me know two things about herself;  1.)  She hides under her bed when her landlord comes looking for the rent.  And 2.)  That she’d have to work tonight.

7. I’m not big on fishing, but if I were to catch a Thursday, I wouldn’t throw it back.

8. Does it bother anyone else that the West Side Highway has traffic lights and FDR Drive is more of a highway?

9. Does anyone know how to remove people who have no business following anything you do from the subscriptions section just to the right of this blog?  I seem to have a hard time finding Google’s “Block This Person For Being Insignificant” button.  Any help would be greatly appreciated.

10. Every time I go crazy, spinning off into a sea of mental anguish and self-loathing, which I’ve learned to swim in during every past attempt at getting to know someone, he does something very simple that seems to calm my self-generated stormy sea.  He knows how important music is to me. Makes me want to sing just as much as he makes me smile.

As a BONUS STATEMENT...

I need more than the measly 30 days the month of November has given me to be Thankful for things.  Luckily, I am more thankful in this life than I am pissed at the stupidity of these ridiculous Facebook statuses.  I'm not taking 1/12 of 365 days just to tell you what I'm thankful for.  It seems like it would be cooler to say thank you every day.  So, that's what I'm doing...and not on facebook, and sometimes not even typewritten.  I'm saying things out loud.  I want you to see it in my face.  This morning, I've got two.  I'm thankful for breakfast.  And for you.

Today's Top 10.

Today’s Top 10

1. It’s getting on that time of year where if you don’t put your scarf on before you put your earphones in, you’re going to be mad every few temperature changes.  There’s really no winning.

1. If you put the scarf on first, the headphones come out to remove the scarf because it’s too warm in the subway station.

2. If you put the scarf on second, your headphones become entangled in a web of trickery and deceit when you try to remove them to throw shade at the barista who didn’t understand the order you thought you clearly yelled.

3. My therapist is still on vacation.

2. The other day, I sat next to a gentleman on the Path Train reading a book untitled “G-String Dreams True Confessions”.

3. People talk about my posture.

4. Escaping New York, Manhattan, tall buildings, the sound of traffic and street squeals is easily done.  There is calm, and quiet, and the appreciation of a good smile just a few miles outside of this mess.  And yes, you should bring the dog.

5. There is even cattiness in the supposed zen of a day at the spa. 

6. I’ve been recreating some of the conversations that came up, if I was getting into trouble when I was a little kid…

·      Mom:  Who are you yelling at?

JJJr:        I’m not yelling.

Mom:  Oh, so you’re calling me a liar?

Another….

·      Mom:            Who are you yelling at?

JJJr:      Nobody.

Mom:  Oh, so I’m nobody?

7. I make pretty good chicken soup.

8. My friend George is a YouTube sensation.  There is actually justice in the world (wide web).

9. I firmly believe that Halloween and St. Patrick’s Day are approximately 10 degrees warmer to all white people.
10. At age 38, I can solidly say that my desire to grow up to be Judi Dench, a desire I unearthed as a teenager, still stands true.

Today's Top 10

1. Does anyone have one of those new colored iPhones?  I’m sorry.  iPhones-of-color?

2. On the way to our first date, walking from the Path train, along that dark end of Christopher Street, I befriended a drag-ish queen named Beyondre.  Can someone please remind me of that years from now?

3. I hate the word “Beast”.  It is not a compliment on someone’s vocal prowess or talent or acting ability or dancing.  It really isn’t.  It is an insult. 

1. But I guess if you don’t know any better...  Like speaks to dumb.

4. Creativity doesn’t know if the lights are on or off.  We can still get creative in the light sometimes too.  Now, I know the original torch song was written from burning some old lover’s shit*, but there’s a whole ‘nother kind of art that comes outta pointing yourself toward happy every now and again.

 *

1. This is not happy…But the art created out of it, has made me very...
2. ….it IS trash.

5. Starting a clothing line has always been a dream of mine.  Secret – there is a sewing machine in my childhood room, on which I learned to sew at probably the age of 12.  My first creation was a pattern I purchased with my allowance money.  I believe it was a Butterick pattern.  I wonder where those MC Hammer pants I made ever got to.  They were the most amazing shade of green.

6. I spent much of yesterday (and will spend most of today) recording backup vocals…for myself.  Sing with yourself.  It’s fun. 

7. I am presently re-reading Gloria Naylor’s “Mama Day” (She wrote “Linden Hills”, for you intellectuals who like the similarities to Milton’s “Paradise Lost”.  She also wrote “The Women of Brewster Place”, for those of you who like Jackee).  There are several spells and voodoo concoctions mentioned throughout the story.  I’m practicing for Halloween.  

8. Listening to new music.  Listening to a new friend.  Listening to the sound of a midmorning nap.  Listening to laughter.  The anticipation of getting to listen.  Of getting to share all of these things all over again each time I see you.  Running through my mind the last month or so.

9. My therapist is on vacation until mid-November.  In Italy.  Please leave your phones on.

10. My neighbor, who puts out, and her boyfriend, who puts it in, just bought a dog.  

Y'all...these notes I'm taking are just for me.  I get tickled if you actually read them, but I've gotta keep notes of all the voices in my head (as per the request of my attorney), so don't mind me.  Los Angeles and a lot of recent events have put some new things on the table that I can't wait to share with y'all.  If you are around next month, you should come celebrate with me at the party I'm throwing.... Here's some light info about it.  I'll talk to y'all later.  I'm gonna get back to this discussion we're having over here entitled "Cat Fur".

  

Today's Top 10

I was a day late, y'all.  Look....I'm on LA time this week.  Better late than pregnant...

1. “Cleavage & a Grey Beard” – possibly the title of my first album.

2. I get to talk to him every day.  If asked how I liked those apples, I would just smile and simply walk away.

3. Upon learning of the passing of someone so young, no matter how troubled their even younger time with you may have been, find a way to honor and acknowledge.  I chose.

4. Bottoming your way to the top.

5. I take myself and what I do so/too/very seriously.  There are some people in the wrong position who don’t/won’t/can’t.  I’ll miss them for other reasons though.

6. They are a set of the most beautifully striking eyes that, when set upon, my shoulders can’t help but relax.

7. Traumatic and heart-shaping things have happened to me for the last 3 years each time I’ve come to Los Angeles.  A heart-working (and sometime wrenching) event for each year.  That’s just math.

8. I got to talk to a woman who was in the audience of my show this past weekend.  She saw me do my thing at the same theatre over a year ago, but we hadn’t had the chance to meet until after this most recent performance.  She asked me how my mother was doing.  And she said “Hey, between you and me, I  can tell…something’s got you feeling kinda happy” as she jokingly jabbed me in my side.  She is an older woman…clearly with impeccable taste.  I’m always surprised when people listen.

9. “His penis looked like a replacement button on an Easter bunny.” ~ ?

10. Words of advice given to a girlfriend of mine over brunch recently:  If his balls aren’t in your mouth, then put one in his court.

Today's Top 10

1. If you keep talking about Miley Cyrus, it won’t go away.  Just like we did with Sinead O’Connor in the first place.  Shut up, everyone!

2. I’ve been walking by well-dressed people as I faintly whisper “Killing it” for years now.  A woman in the east village walked by me yesterday and I heard her say it to me.

3. The government is closed.  What are you doing?

4. Doesn’t it seem mathematically impossible that the person in charge of “Glee” has also given us the brilliance of “American Horror Story”?

5. When you were a child…and ate at places like Burger King... Did you ever take a few of your French fries and put them on your burger?  They now charge to do it for you.  There is a French fry burger.  Google it.

1. Take a minute and read about Satis-fries too.

6. Smile first.  Before you open your eyes.  Especially if you feel someone grab your hand.  It all depends on what song is playing at the time though.

7. Grown folks standing in the corner of over priced bars, wearing second hand clothes, too much make up, and smelling like the faint scent of homelessness (re: Aged Hipsters) can still be a clique… if you let them.

1. Have you ever walked into a room and caught people talking about you?  Children cover it up better than adults.

8. I will be in Los Angeles tomorrow.

1. And I think Nashville in the spring sounds lovely.

9. Searching for a teammate still implies the playing of a game.  How about just having someone on your side?  Make sure you only do that for the right people.

10. “Lick it right the first time or you gotta do it over.” – Lil Kim

Notes: Tales From The Table

Most of what I do here is a note-taking.  There are always 6 or 7 different stories brewing my balding head.  In order for me to include them in a coffee-table book or whatever, I have to write some of it here.

I have been working as a massage therapist for almost a year now.  The women and men that I meet in this environment are fascinating, and will make it into some story I tell some day.  I take notes on them.  This is one of those instances.

Tales From The Table:  Jasmine

A regular customer of mine (since March), came to see me yesterday.

She always divulges too much information.

In the elevator from the locker room to our massage room on her first visit, when I asked her if there were any areas she's like me to focus on, she replied "Well, my boyfriend proposed to me last night."

"Congratulations" I said.

She continued, "and I told him no.  I think I'm making a huge mistake."

I said "So, the first thing you did was come to the spa?  Great!!"

"No," she answered, "The first thing I did was call my shrink.  Then I came to the spa.  So, I guess you can work on whatever you want."

Too much information.

Yesterday when she came, nothing happened in the elevator.  I got her to the room.  Told her I would step out for a second to let her get undressed.  I let her know that when I return she should be face down and under the sheet.

When I returned, she was face up, naked, and on top of the sheet.  Seeing the shock on my face, she said "Well, I just had Botox a few hours ago and I don't think I should be lying face down."

Today's Top 10

1. I’ve been talking to strangers recently.  Coffee shops.  The bank.  Laundromat.  And not in any weird way.  “How’s that book?”  “Great jacket.”  Small talk.  It’s no more than 3 minutes.  Smiling can be wonderful.

2. A mutual friend and I share a former friend of mine.  She confessed to me that she often fears the day she too will be let go.  I told her to call me when she stops worrying about that.

3. I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night.  4:AM recently.  Tea tastes so much better at this hour.  And it’s amazing what can come out of a keyboard with a good set of headphones.

4. I don’t miss the way you used to throw yourself at men.  You scared off half the white boys I know.

5. He has a dog.

6. At least 3 times a year, I try to reinvent my recipe for collard greens.

7. I’ve never once denied who I am.  And I don't mean that in any sort of anthem-type, poetic stance.  I can truthfully say that I have never in my life denied any portion of myself.  If you came expecting something else, that’s actually not my problem. 

8. I miss the relevance of MC Hammer.  “Turn This Mutha Out” is still my jam.

1. Recently, I’ve been lyrically studying the genius of MC Lyte… the original.

9. And all we have seems to be RuPaul.  Putting on the heels, and the lashes, and the gowns, and the wigs may be all right for some.  It’s the clown, the Mandingo, or the thug I guess.  What about those who like to secretly translate German lieder just for fun?

10. There are characters that live in my neighborhood with names like Orange, Housedress, and Nosy Pam (R.I.P.).  They are the reasons I sing with the windows open. 

Today's Top 10... (and a little extra)

1. If 2 birds land in your hand early, do you still get a worm in your bush if you only use the 1 stone?

2. What is with white people, September 1^st, and pumpkin-spiced anything?  It’s just like the walls come down on that day.

3. I’m compiling a group of Deletion Letters that I will be sending out in nicely wrapped boxes as Christmas presents this year.

4. “Art is art.  Short for artificial.  Good art, the art of art, is about being as real as you can under these artificial circumstances.” – Joni Mitchell

5. The common misconceptions that I am angry, regretful, guilty, fearful, worried, judging, competitive, or looking to place blame, usually come from …Scaredy Cats.

1. Haha, I called you Scaredy Cat.

6. Have you ever felt “compelled” (direct quote) to betray a friend?  I never have.

7. Distractions can be nice.  I spent the weekend at a wedding in Provincetown.  Most of yesterday was spent in a car with my best friend.  My evening, sitting in my room listening to the modern day equivalent of a mix-tape…in every sense of the word.  Remember the absolutely ridiculous times through which you still smile.

1. Also, if he makes mix tapes, he’s gotta be pretty cool, right? 

8. Each spring, since I was a senior in college, I have re-read “Valley of the Dolls”.

9. It is completely possible that Candy Crush causes hemorrhoids.

10. I do not like the word “partner”.

A Bonus #11…Because I felt like it.

11. Anyone who can give me a valid reason for liking your own Facebook status, please respond with said reasons in the comments section below…if you have time, as I would assume liking your own Facebook stati can be a rather cumbersome job.

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My Last "Last Tuesday" event is tomorrow night.  It's with the LEGENDARY Amber Martin.  We're trying to dedicate the evening to the women of the 80s and the men who made them drink.  Come see us at Duane Park at 8PM if you can.  It's free, y'all.  

The 80s got me remembering this ditty I did earlier this year with MCDB!!  Girl, where are you?  Should we try the 90s next?

Don't you wanna?

Don’t you wanna?

Don’t you wanna be moved by somebody?

            Not picked up and thrown across the room

           

                        Although, I know some of you little bitches are into that.

Don’t you wanna be moved by somebody?

            Somebody to grab you by the friendly parts

                        Instead of just grabbing you by the back of your head

Don’t you wanna be moved by somebody?

            Instead of just letting them place an ashtray in the small of your back

Don’t you wanna be moved by somebody?

            Because the subway alone can be an awful place to try to fit in.

Don’t you wanna be moved by somebody?

            Instead of being so angry all the time.

Don’t you wanna be moved by somebody?

            By the way he walks into, out of, and across the room.

Don’t you wanna be moved by somebody?

            By the way he cooks for you?

            Because dividing recipes in half was getting to be no fun.

                        And he understands that you just don’t like chocolate.

Don’t you wanna be moved by somebody?

            By the light he brings into your world.

                       

                        Cuz it was getting awfully dark there for a second.

                                    & being a love-sick Queen didn’t even work for Cleopatra

Don’t you wanna be moved by somebody?

Don’t you wanna be moved?

Don’t you?

What’s the answer?

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In an effort to get through these next few months, things have got to be compiled from a variety of sources and kept like doggies in a row.  Is it doggies?  I thought it was ducks at one point?  

Organizing thoughts from different receipts, napkins (I still do that) and legal pads of paper (I also, still write, but only because my pen collection is rivalrous), is only arduous when I compare it to my recent attempts at [re]organizing my OkCupid and Match.com profiles.  

I realize I'm asking a series of questions.  

Do I move you?  

Do you move me?  What color are his eyes?

However do I want it?  Try to put his smell into words.

Don't you want to be moved by somebody?  

At a time of day when the horizon isn't important - maybe noon, I may also question these:  

Did she settle?  They must lie silently in bed.  

Did you see his smile when he said they were opening up their relationship to a third?  

There's no way he really wants that.

I found it was easier to study others instead of paying attention to myself.  And it's left me perplexed.  I'm not impressed by what I find.  The research.  The excavation.  The cream of the crop seems to be rapidly curdling.  

But it's sometimes comical for a fool like me to believe in faith.