sketch of my hand

I realize I have my mother's hands, and my grandmother's too.

I mean, I love them... but this realization is not a pretty one.

Sabotaging a new relationship

I'ma throw a few words out there , perhaps there's stickiness

Caveat: I spent last night listening to Barry White, Motown Classics and Old school Hip-Hop on a street corner while having a Heineken... Methinks it might color the tempo of the thrown words... hee hee

There's something wrong.
I feel a game comin on
I'm not one who leads people on
So i pay attention if my intuition's strong.

It's nothing specific. If it were I could put my finger on it, describe it, prescribe for it.
I can't.

I like you. A lot.
Perhaps our friendship was made for something different.
The cosmos banged us into each other so I could teach Alexis French
or acquire shoes to give away
or for money reasons
a different kind of season...

Maybe it's a timing thing... or a Rhyming thing :-P

I want to discover and kill the wrongness,
but I also refuse to prolong, when something is wrong.

So what does all that mean?
I'm not easily hurt, but I know what it feels like
I'm not a game to be played; regardless of how glorious the endeaver.
The ending is always the same.
There's a winner and a loser.

I Have No Words.

This woman, a fellow legal practitioner and writer; is arguing there is no evidence of torture.

Seriously; you have to help me find the words...

Update: found some from a Holocaust survivor in a response to that drivel, so I'm stealing them.

"Obeying the law doesn't necessarily mean behaving humanely. Laws can be
inhumane too, and it is up to every humane person to disobey laws that seem
otherwise."

Props well deserved

Ta-nehisi is a beautiful writer and friend of the Family. This is a blog to put on your favorite list darlings. (I've been reading him secretly forever, but his latest post featured NEW EDITION! it's time to come clean)

http://ta-nehisicoates.theatlantic.com/

Fast food joints need to bring back the all-you-can-eat-buffet. It;s not the way I eat, but it;s the way a lot of people luvvvvvvv to eat. It's been a while, so they should bring it back.

Your Darling Scrub.

Today is Lincoln's 200th Birthday...

Pennies everywhere! But what I find interesting is that it's also Darwin's 100th B-day.

I have complicated feelings about Darwin, considering "Origin of the Species" is just shorthand for the real title, "On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life."

Favored Races... lawrd.

Just for fun...

indulge...

Your darling Scrub :-P

I met the most impossible man

One can't help for whom they fall.
I love the way he grabs my waist.
I love the way he looks upon my face.
But I hate that he yelled at, then kicked his dog.
--Me

I like him. I have friends just like him he would love and identify with. But Ex-lovers? Not so much. It has less to do with him than it has to do with me. I feel comfortable being treated a certain way. And the way does not involve courseness; he's very course. He likes attention, a lot of it. If we were just friends it'd be funny, but I don't like to present myself in such a manner, since dating someone reflects on us I'd really prefer if he'd quit it. I've gotten the feeling he's brought folk around me simply to show off. Ugh. I don't want to be the story a guy tells to his friends. He called me a "Becky" once in front of one.

"Becky"? Seriously?

I don't like shopping, or flashy clothes. I love my Hip Hop, but I take it in measured doses and not at level 11 if someone else is in the car. Especially not through residential neighborhoods late on school nights. I'm pretty confident he'd refer to me as a Bitch or a Ho to his brothers when I'm not around. Once, I heard him carry on a phone conversation with one of his million "cousins," right? Oh my God. I have no words...

Yes I do. These are grown ass men gossipping worse than a damn church quilting club.

I'm more comfortable with someone who acts like a gentleman. Not because he's with me, just because that's the way he treats people. Everybody, even the check-out girl at the bank; even the troll on the street; even his girl when no one is watching; even his boys and his family.

Sigh.

So what does all that mean?
I don't know.
I do know I'm a strong woman who likes a strong man.
I do know we seemed to have a lot in common.
I do know that I like him.

It's nuts not to give it a shot but I can't promise it won't irk me. He watches FOX NEWS! C'mon! I'm not a bitch for being highly offended! Fox News!

Uh huh. If the fact he often graphically opines OUT LOUD about my body parts doesn't move ya, I bet the Fox-News-watching-thing gets you on my side. uh huh...

I digress.

I've asserted all this very explicitly to this guy; But he's a damn knuckle-head, so I don't know if it really sank in.

I guess the next move is his. I wonder if he's willing to up his game a little...

:-)

I'm a Nut

I've been one for a longtime; and my nuttiness runs my life so much... It has it currently paralyzed. For example, I don't know how to have a decent relationship. My nuttiness won't go away, and it demands I sabotage everything. It has other qualities: I prefer a lie to the truth, I self medicate; I'm one of the smartest people I know but it's been 8 years since I've held a job.

Don't get me wrong... I'm my favorite person even though I have these issues. But I acknowledge I'm a fuckin nut. I also acknowledge I have got to alter it enough to get some non-nutty shit done. In other words, I have to change enough to be an amazing nut as opposed to a fucking one.

Winning is not a sometimes thing, it's an all the time thing. You don't win once in a while; you don't do things right once in a while, you do them right all the time. Winning is a habit. Unfortunately so is losing.

-Vince Lombardi

My nuttiness aside, I believe the idea that we are in control of our thoughts. That our thoughts lead to our actions and action determine results.

I, your darling lunatic need different results. So that requires different actions, But the only way to do that is through my thoughts-- and my brain is nutty...

Therefore I have to adapt my non-nutty parts enough that my actions are different despite the nuttiness that ain't going no where. And if Vincy L is right one of the reasons I'm in this position because I've been a "once in a while" kind of nutcase.

I've chosen to become a "win all the time nutcase;" I can do it too because there are areas where I do: my smile, my curiousity, my drinking, my intuition... But there are a list of areas where I need to win all the time: Choose a passion, choose a career, just get a friggin job; step up my image; follow through in my relationships; repair my relationships; read my mail; make some money; control the money I make... I could go on and on.

Hold onto your hat.

Your Darling Scrub.

Finding Your Place

Alright, so just like blogs, careers should be based on your interests, identity and point of view. So this blog is about: Media I find funny; Politicians I find funny; Law; Art; My eratic sense of zen; The New World Order; Making the world a better place; Caribbean culture; Subjugation; The Hood; The people I meet; and Sex.

Question - How the hell do I parlay these into a career?

Cuz I gotta get one of those...

My Present to you, Merry Christmas Eve!

SCAN, The Secret Council of American Negros, your council, is found at http://since1865.blogspot.com/ . Prepare yourself for endless enjoyment.

One of the functions of your council is to take out folk who don't know how to act. Left of the blog roll, you'll find a list of "the fallen" which includes some of our favorite personalities to gab about (Kwame Kilpatric, Debra Lee, Wesley Snipes, Sherri-the-black-idiot-on-the-view, Bobby Brown, the NAACP...)

In addition to getting reports from it's spies and operatives; your council hosts regular meetings where y'all get together to combat major-league bullshit. The HNIC's identity is a secret, but the rest of the attendees will be familiar to you. One of my favorites is a September transcript of a board meeting called "the race card" where Mitt Romney and Al Sharpton are brought in with burlap sacks over their heads. Michelle Barnard is disgusted SCAN's even contemplating using the race card to help Obama. She describes it as the "Nuclear Option" and is totally over it. Mitt coquetishly asks what they're talking about, Al Shartpton elbows him and hillarity ensues (Al's application to your council keeps getting "lost," so he's trying to be well behaved... tee hee; just read it)

There's also the "Palin issue" which you deal with pretty actively and bring in the big guns. Zahara Jolie-Pitt is your youngest badass spy installed into the Jolie-Pitt household to wreak havok on the mainstream entertainment industry on behalf of the cause... Ooh ooh ooh.. Another great dialogue: the briefing Condaleeza Rice gives Barack Obama. sigh...

If the idea of a real-life organization of this magnitude wasn't so appealing, I would find it ridiculous, but these guys hit so many truthful notes, the shit just cracks me up. Seriously. I hope you enjoy it:

Good health to your people over the holidays, If given the opportunity I suggest ya slap a kiss right on your father's mouth :-) Scrub

I'll Pass

When men speak of love... I'll pass
When they assert power is an aphrodisiac, I'll pass
When people speak of intellect. I'll pass.

What I love is the way my hair falls across my eyes.
What I love is the softness of my own skin.
I love the phrase "navel gazer;" that's what I am

I understand it's not enough to live. But it's what I have right now.

It's what gets me through the drunken mornings and the drunken days.

It's what I have.

My Aggressive Side

Sometimes I appear to give up, give in, give over and just say "Come get me." It's always when I'm backed in a corner, and it's always when I'm at my best.

"Come get me." Whether it was on cross-ex in a fake trial, or a confrontation with someone I love, whatever. You got a problem with me? "Come get me."

The one thing I can say about me: the guy/girl never ever won. I never ever won either, but dammit, they never did.

Come get me.

The Papers finally made mainstream media

Man oh man, I bet you have great thoughts on this. Happy hump day.

Ok. If you had known me through the legal study years of my life, I'm sure back in the day you would have indulged me to one of my rampant discussions of the Torture Papers. Which I found not only academically instructional, but holy-shit-fascinating. I was uber-brand new to the legal game, and never seen raw documents before, so I figured, "with so many smart people around me, the Papers were beyond me too." It was clear as day the shit was illegal... but there had to be some bona-fide reason they are getting away with it. Cuz Americans were TORTURING PEOPLE and y'all just don't do that.

At any rate, years later, the subject is coming up mainstream again in the wane days of your President. Question: Is anyone new going to jail for this, and is it possible the practice is gonna stop?

I'll take the damn bar and a law gig just to help out if it is.

Sigh

good one

"It's impossible not to fall a little bit in love with you"

Got this one from some TV show :-)

"Men are lazy. Even if there is a great meal across town they'll usually reach for the nearest donut"

Of course this little diddy was uttered in response to the wonderment of a man stepping out on an inconvenient but fantastic woman with the local troll.

Tee hee...

But is the sentiment true? What assumptions is this idea based on? Why do I find it hillarious? Are there Historic examples? do I have personal examples? Why is this even important? Is it?How does it effect me, my relationships, my love?

I'm not quite so cynical. I kind think if he's looking for something a donut can't give him, he'll make the trip.

The assumption question was a good one though. (1) that this laziness only speaks to men (2) all men tend to have this trait, and thus are the same (3) there's a difference between a great meal and a donut (4) the analogy of food to women is valid. in other words, he's eat one way ergo, he'll fuck according to the same paradigm...

I've Got This Hood Habit

I reside in an urban area 1 mile from downtown and 1/3 mile from the water in the city where I Live.

Now when I say urban, I mean the Hood.

I'm broke so I usually stick close to home and walk everywhere; to the water, downtown or just around the hood when I feel like it. When I walk around I stand out. There are many neighborhood peeps who walk but they aren't shlepping around Ralph Lauren totes full of writing stuff and strolling. They are looking for a fix, not inspiration to write about.

I thought by now they'd be used to me. It's been months, but I still attract a lot of attention.

Now I don't mind talking to people. In fact, I know everyone in the hood (to many a snob's disgust.) But the attention gets more intense once I open my mouth. The conversation is always some variation of:

Them: Yo ma
Me: wassup, hello
Them: Dayummm
Me: Well you have a nice day.
Them: Hole up, Hole up
Me: I'm actually on my way- C-ya
Them:Whay you from? You talk white
Me: smile
Them: Whay you from? You ain't from here.
Me: There you go
... and on and on and on

Now the conversation is old but not bad. It's that as I start strolling away, inevidably they follow and start getting louder and louder. That part's urksome. Safety becomes more of a concern the closer a motherfucker gets to you. Moreover, everyone watches everything. Negros following you around really gets the hood talking.

But no on is gonna stop me from walking in my own neighborhood dammit. So I have this habit. I talk to myself on a dead cell phone. No one will interrupt you if you are talking on the horn.

Now, I can still be polite and wave or nigga-nod to everyone on the street. (everytime they call me "red," it tickles me) I can stop and talk if I want to, and there's the added benefit of letting me talk out the thoughts in my head.

Yes. I understand talking to myself is neurotic. Even with a prop.

But it works.

;-)

I'm in love (stop rolling your eyes)

Favorite quote of the day.

“I just don't know if O [Obama] can keep hold of the leash with so many wolves on the end of it.” (responding to Christopher Hitchen’s opposition to the possibility of a H. R. Clinton Secretary of State. Hee hee)

I’m in love with a guy who would love the above quote. He’s fabulous. Smart and tall and sweet and a gentleman who doesn’t mind letting me have my way. He let’s me admire his aggressive side, while admonishing me for having a submissive one.

Him: “You should be careful. Someone might take advantage of that.”

Me: “Backatcha buddy”

I know I know… Rock Star.

He’s big-and-huge-and-tall.

He inspires me to write things. (Not a bad writer himself.)

He took me on a ferris wheel before dinner once. He always picks a great bottle of wine. He kissed me for the first time at my favorite club on the beach, on a white couch, while some Asian guy was spinning hip-hop in the corner, an afro-cuban band was warming up downstairs. His compliment about my smile was what did me in… but I had a crush on him from the moment I laid my eyes on him... I didn't need much convincing.

The second time was at my favorite club mainland. This time, the leather couch was black. The DJ was spinning old school, and poetry was warming up upstairs.

He took me to a Brazilian bar-b-que. Holy mackerel! Meat and wine. He asserted, “Don’t mess with any of the green stuff” referring to the salad bar. He ordered the carrot cake, and Icewine “in honor of me.”



After closing the place down, in the parking lot, we had the sexiest political conversation in existence.




I shit you not. Test me on it. I'll put it up against anything. He asserted it was the funnest political conversation he's ever had... but that it was more appropriate for late-night-showtime than Meet-the-Press.




hee hee.


How can you not fall a little in love with a guy like that?

He let me wheel around his Escalade after the second time at the Brazilian place. He was concerned… but tried not to show it. Hee hee.


He’s willing to eat my cooking—after a little brow beating. I demanded to make him a meal for his birthday.

I dig him.

(Update: I injured his brand new car... yikes. I'll write about it once I get over the shock)

You're invited.

My mind wandered to a pair of family traditions my father rocked: Christmas Eve breakfast and Christmas Brunch.

For December 24th. He makes pepper-pot.

Warning. This Breakfast is hard core. Pepper-pot is rustic and meaty and mollasses filled. It's Guyanese in that half the time you have no clue what kind of meat your eating, but it always has massive bones to knaw around. Don't even consider silverware, it's eaten with wonderbread. The more people you have in your company the better; but get it while you can get it... cuz the four of us (my brother, two younger sisters, and I) can kill an entire pressure cooker full in one sitting.

Told ya. There have been good natured fights and injuries.

Christmas brunch is civilized in the classic British-Guyana tradition. Unlike the previous morning's free-for-all, you're clean and dressed. Dad's Garlic Pork is the standout on the menu. Good garlic pork is marinated for a month in some brine you can clean space shuttles with; but you can get away with only marinating it for a few days if you're feeling lazy. It's white and fried, and no bones at all. The taste is intense.

Yummy.

As my family changes, I hope the four of us, (my older brother, two younger sisters and I) continue the pure raucus that is pepper-pot and the gratitude to be among the ones you love that is garlic-pork.

It's about time to start the marinate for December 25th.

:-P

Are you as politically aware as Sarah?

The Sarah-Palin-thought-South-Africa-was-the-southern-region-of-the-country-Africa thing made me gaze at my own navel and wonder if I have the common knowledge required to be politically saavy. So I nosed around the web to see if there was some kind of meter-stick to measure.

et voila.

The Pew Research Center for the People & the Press published a report, a Political Knowledge Update. The conclusion, "Most of the Public Is Familiar with Key Political and Iraq Facts"

It suggests that you take the quiz of questions for yourself before you actually read the report.

So, really really really hoping that I'd never embarrass myself at parties the way SP did on international television, I took the test to see if I was bright.

Apparently I am :-)

I don't mean to brag but I'm over the 80% tile compared to the rest of you yahoos.

More after the jump

Unfortunately, according to the report, the national average for women was below the national average at 39% (on one hand it means I'm doubly as smart as the average woman in the area, the bad news is that it's fuckin 39%!!!)

Of course, the Pew reports that the average person does not know enough, they normally pay attention as does the media. and as the war wained less knowledge was absorbed/learned/accumulated.

interesting. I wonder what Sarah would have scored.....

OH... that's it. she brought the average down. we should tabulate it like ice skating, you know you can drop her score as low (and mine as high, hee hee) and just average everyone elses... then I bet we wouldn't be losing to the boys.

so there!