Monday, June 30, 2008
Philly Bound Comes New York
This morning as I washed my hair, I was sort of stressed…well maybe stressed is a little strong. I, more or less, was date worried. I bought a different shampoo and conditioner…since it’s the summer I wash my hair if not every day than every other day because I…glisten…on the regular in this damn humid weather, I needed to go to a daily moisturizer. So I am washing my hair hoping that it doesn’t make my hair all weird and frizzy…and also that the scent matches with my body.
I got up at 6:30am even though my date wasn’t until 1 in the afternoon. I wanted to make sure that I looked…good. So hair did with curls that lightly fell down my back and sat on my shoulders. I felt like I looked…good. This Saturday was going to be 90…and humid with a chance of thunderstorms. I needed to find an outfit that was going to be cool but…cute…not cute... but not sexy…but something to bring attention to myself.
I settled for a sundress that really did nothing but exposed all types of feminine parts…mounds of lush bronzed softness.
I got up at 6:30am even though my date wasn’t until 1 in the afternoon. I wanted to make sure that I looked…good. So hair did with curls that lightly fell down my back and sat on my shoulders. I felt like I looked…good. This Saturday was going to be 90…and humid with a chance of thunderstorms. I needed to find an outfit that was going to be cool but…cute…not cute... but not sexy…but something to bring attention to myself.
I settled for a sundress that really did nothing but exposed all types of feminine parts…mounds of lush bronzed softness.
As I stood in front of the mirror looking at myself for the umpteenth time…I reached up and ran the palm of my hands across them…they pretty much were screaming for attention. Good lord, I can’t see how he’s not gonna be tempted to repeat the action. That’s not what I was going for when I picked out the dress…but the other sundresses need to be handwashed…and…ummm, I don’t know how to handwash. I mean…do you scrub or not scrub?…do you ring?…do you soak?…what?!
Either way, it was too hot for any more clothes, less was best…so…he was going to have to be tempted. Poor, poor man.
Wrong. It was all wrong and wasn’t flowing. An omen? No…but…let me not start in with that…stay positive and everything will work out positively wonderful.
Wires got crossed and I came from Harlem to Canal street…he was on Canal and headed up to Harlem…I told him I’d stay in the village and wait for him there, told him what stop to get off and…again, wrong, all wrong…
I know me and my mean ass slick mouth…if I was gonna have to wait for this non-directional non-planning man…then I am gonna need a drink. Caliente Cab (yes, the same one I treated Fireman to on his birthday)…was right around the corner…I had a big margarita and table made guacamole for two… and then I just sat at the bar by the window…waiting.
I forgot that it was Pride weekend…so as I sat in the middle of the village during gay pride weekend…it wasn’t surprising that the group of 7 lesbian sistas sitting by me at the bar would try and …well…do what you do when you are at a bar drinking alcohol with friends…I wasn’t in the mood to even be nice…but I smiled and said no thank you.
He calls me to let me know he just got out of the taxi and I look up and there he is…walking across the street…smiling. He doesn’t see me but I see him and I am just staring at him…eating him up with my eyes, just as I am eating my chips and dip. He makes me smile, my pussy tingle, and makes me want to declare my love…that could one day come.
I order him a margarita because…it’s hot as hell. So when he walks in...he smiles…big and bright and it’s for me. He tells me, "You look gorgeous." I blush, then I hand him the big glass of liquor and silently hope I can get him tipsy enough to …touch him…covertly while he’s inebriated. So what! His body needs me to touch it…it’s silently speaking to me, telling me to just reach out and…squeeze his arms and caress his thighs and lick his lips and …bite him.
Either way, it was too hot for any more clothes, less was best…so…he was going to have to be tempted. Poor, poor man.
Wrong. It was all wrong and wasn’t flowing. An omen? No…but…let me not start in with that…stay positive and everything will work out positively wonderful.
Wires got crossed and I came from Harlem to Canal street…he was on Canal and headed up to Harlem…I told him I’d stay in the village and wait for him there, told him what stop to get off and…again, wrong, all wrong…
I know me and my mean ass slick mouth…if I was gonna have to wait for this non-directional non-planning man…then I am gonna need a drink. Caliente Cab (yes, the same one I treated Fireman to on his birthday)…was right around the corner…I had a big margarita and table made guacamole for two… and then I just sat at the bar by the window…waiting.
I forgot that it was Pride weekend…so as I sat in the middle of the village during gay pride weekend…it wasn’t surprising that the group of 7 lesbian sistas sitting by me at the bar would try and …well…do what you do when you are at a bar drinking alcohol with friends…I wasn’t in the mood to even be nice…but I smiled and said no thank you.
He calls me to let me know he just got out of the taxi and I look up and there he is…walking across the street…smiling. He doesn’t see me but I see him and I am just staring at him…eating him up with my eyes, just as I am eating my chips and dip. He makes me smile, my pussy tingle, and makes me want to declare my love…that could one day come.
I order him a margarita because…it’s hot as hell. So when he walks in...he smiles…big and bright and it’s for me. He tells me, "You look gorgeous." I blush, then I hand him the big glass of liquor and silently hope I can get him tipsy enough to …touch him…covertly while he’s inebriated. So what! His body needs me to touch it…it’s silently speaking to me, telling me to just reach out and…squeeze his arms and caress his thighs and lick his lips and …bite him.
I need a moment….
He’s brought me a present…a book. TheWarOfArt. I do heart him…but I won’t let him know…but as he talks all I want to do is reach out and play in his locs…so I do. I rested my hand on his thigh. And he takes my hand and massages it as we talk about where we are going to go from there. We take liberties…me more than him but him none-the-less. It’s all very comfortable…and I cherish comfort over love…which makes him and I…perfect in my mind’s eye.
Street fairs and window shopping, he casually takes my hand and holds it…like its natural…like he’s done this before…with my hand…in another place…another time. We walked to the spice and herb store…and the smells of cumin, mint, lavender and rose hip engulfs us as we walk in and … it just adds to the spell. The owner looks like some ancient Wiccan as 2 cats wander the store looking for familiars…it’s probably the mix of the strong ass margarita and the fact that in the last 48 hours all I have eaten was lettuce with lemon juice, that has me thinking of conjuring up love spells as I sift through herbs.
We make our way across Avenue of the Americas, over to Washington Park…we have to walk through there in order to get to the restaurant that I want to take him to. Hand and hand, slight breeze…all I hear is the low murmur of background voices…he’s my focus right now, today…as a small trio plays music over by the benches…and then it sort of hits us at the same time and we stop and look at eachother…and the trumpeter is in the middle of Miles Davis’s Once Upon a Summer Day…now if that isn’t some sort of sign…I just don’t know…
He asks me if I know the song, I do…I tell him I have the album at home…and he starts to hum along with the trumpet…and he casually leans me against the fence and he kisses me…small kisses…soft lip kisses…that make me pull away and turn my back because…damn…am I really acting like this is brand new to me?!!
We make it to one of my fav restaurants and order a bottle of wine and a plate of formaggio…then we order separate gourmet pizzas and nosh on eachothers food as we talk…about what? Not sure but his mouth is moving and…my mouth was moving…we were there for 2 hours…but I must not have been paying attention…or unable to stop thinking about his lips on me…’cause I don’t know what that man said.
It starts to pour…no…pour…thunder starts and as soon as it booms…it makes my pussy contract because as you know…thunder and lightning are sexy to me. Without him knowing he endears himself to me even more when...He smiles to himself and says, "I think thunder and lightning are sexy." Now...that is a sign! No man has ever said that to me without me saying it first and then usually just agreeing... It's almost too much.
So I am sitting across from him in this crowded restaurant and my pussy has just…well, it was raining and wet outside and…now as I sat in my chair, it was wet inside too. We can’t leave because it is coming down that hard…so I am wanting this man, in a crowded restaurant and a glass of wine and the smell of basil in the air and his lips…well, I sort of stood up and leaned across the table and kissed him a slow, soft dry kiss…he put his hand on my cheek and kissed me back. I sat down…and I was drunk…but not from the wine.
I. Honestly. Think. I. May. Be. In. Love. Ha!
The rain subsides and we decide to leave…thinking we’d take a taxi to the theater but…we walk up the street and I decided to stop and buy two bottles of champagne Charles Heidsieck, because...well, I’m out. So we stop off at Astor Place Liquors and he tries to buy my champagne for me…but I don’t allow it. Now that is a bad omen. We get caught in another spurt of thunderstorms and all that worrying about my hair this morning…well, seems pointless now.
So we are walking along Broadway and a few blocks from Union Square just casually talking as he again holds my hand… he stops and tells me to look up…there framed between two skyscrapers is a rainbow. I have no idea the last time I saw a rainbow and I am pretty sure it wasn’t in New York…he says it’s a prophecy.
When we part ways…he asks me to come to Philly this coming weekend, I tell him I’d have to make it the following weekend…
He tells me that he is 78% wonderful and that he only gets better…tells me he wants me…he’s going to show me that he is the one for me. Now normally, I hear this type of thing and it turns me off and has me rolling my eyes, especially on a first date…I mean after hearing that enough times and then ending up with men who’ve over stayed their expiration…well…
I am sort of happy that he is up for putting in work…’cause lord knows…Bloopty is something close to wonderful…but I can be mean as hell sometimes…most times.
Now that I am at the end of my tale…I have to tell you this. As much as this was the perfect date, with the perfect man, on a perfect summer day… I don’t want him for mine. Plus, he owns cats. I can not do cats. At all. He knows how I feel about them and told me..."we can work that out in time"...
I. Honestly. Think. I. May. Be. In. Love. Ha!
The rain subsides and we decide to leave…thinking we’d take a taxi to the theater but…we walk up the street and I decided to stop and buy two bottles of champagne Charles Heidsieck, because...well, I’m out. So we stop off at Astor Place Liquors and he tries to buy my champagne for me…but I don’t allow it. Now that is a bad omen. We get caught in another spurt of thunderstorms and all that worrying about my hair this morning…well, seems pointless now.
So we are walking along Broadway and a few blocks from Union Square just casually talking as he again holds my hand… he stops and tells me to look up…there framed between two skyscrapers is a rainbow. I have no idea the last time I saw a rainbow and I am pretty sure it wasn’t in New York…he says it’s a prophecy.
When we part ways…he asks me to come to Philly this coming weekend, I tell him I’d have to make it the following weekend…
He tells me that he is 78% wonderful and that he only gets better…tells me he wants me…he’s going to show me that he is the one for me. Now normally, I hear this type of thing and it turns me off and has me rolling my eyes, especially on a first date…I mean after hearing that enough times and then ending up with men who’ve over stayed their expiration…well…
I am sort of happy that he is up for putting in work…’cause lord knows…Bloopty is something close to wonderful…but I can be mean as hell sometimes…most times.
Now that I am at the end of my tale…I have to tell you this. As much as this was the perfect date, with the perfect man, on a perfect summer day… I don’t want him for mine. Plus, he owns cats. I can not do cats. At all. He knows how I feel about them and told me..."we can work that out in time"...
"It doesn't matter how fast or slow you go, if you are headed in the same direction"
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
ALL ABOARD: Next Stop...Philly
A week ago, I was at Penn station…just passing through as I made my way to 32nd to meet up with a friend for lunch at one of the Korean BBQ restaurants that fill the 3 block radius of what’s known as Koreatown.
I wasn’t walking fast but I was walking quicker than my usual California stroll that I am sure upsets the real New Yorkers that have to walk behind me. I usually come up from the ground on the corner of 33rd and 8th Ave to walk the length of the block of Penn Station/Madison Square Garden outside rather than be huddle together making our way along underground like ants burrowing along in separate direction but with one purpose; not today.
I decided to cut across underground and come up on 7th Ave and 32nd. It’s always so crowded because what houses the 34th street stop for the A train…is also the home to the NJ Transit trains and Amtrak…way too many people in that place, not to mention the office buildings on top and MSG.
As I make my jagged path to the other side of the station…
Standing directly in front of me looking at nothing in particular…stands a man.
I looked at his side profile…and smiled. From a distance, I casually walked around to the front of him…and smiled…harder.
I walked up to him and as I am walking towards him…he finally notices me. Straight face and straight back…he see’s me; he isn’t looking at me.
My 5’5 self walked up to his 6’2 self, and I say very casually…
“I wanted to make sure that I didn’t pass up this opportunity to be a tad bit shallow…and also to let you know what I think…you sho’ is nice to look at. I…just wanted you know that someone out there smiled and recognized that you are a beautiful black man.”
He just looked at me, surely thinking that I am a bit off and knowing New York does have a few crazy people, thinking I must have lost my yellow bus group…
And then... he smiled…a huge big beautiful smile.
“Ah see, what more could I ask for, that’s all I wanted was to make you smile.” I turned to walk away and he said…
“So this is what you do, you go around letting men know that they are beautiful?”
I sort of chuckled to myself because…he’s gonna make me stand here and talk to him when lawd knows…I can barely stand to look at him…because he really is that beautiful to me.
So I’d been bold, started out bold and even silly…so there was no way I could act the shy girl now…
“Well…yes, as a matter of fact I do. If I find you attractive that is. Not just any ol’ man ya know.”
“I don’t live here, my train is delayed. I am from Philly. I am a professor at Such N Such University teaching Such N Such…I am telling you this so you feel more secure about… Well, would you be open to coming to Philly one day so I can show you around?”
I paused, weighed and measure my next words…
“I am not good at long distance conversations… But yes, a guided tour around Philly and a good meal before I came home would be something I could do.”
“I knew you’d say that, you seem like the type for an adventure…and good company.”
I was 5 minutes late getting to lunch. I had to explain my tardiness…and I started it out with…
He was tall, dark and handsome with locs down the middle of his back and wire rimmed glasses and a book in his hand…after finishing my story
She said, “Bloop, I could never do that!”
“Girl, I don’t know I am going to do those things until the words are falling off my lips. He was next to perfect. If that doesn’t happen to him often, it should.”
I didn’t realize until a few gulps of cold water later and she and I looking at eachother that I was actually…anxious. We just looked at eachother and started giggling like two school girls crushin’ on the star basketball player.
*Tomorrow I’ll show you why…he’s gonna make me fall in love this summer*
I wasn’t walking fast but I was walking quicker than my usual California stroll that I am sure upsets the real New Yorkers that have to walk behind me. I usually come up from the ground on the corner of 33rd and 8th Ave to walk the length of the block of Penn Station/Madison Square Garden outside rather than be huddle together making our way along underground like ants burrowing along in separate direction but with one purpose; not today.
I decided to cut across underground and come up on 7th Ave and 32nd. It’s always so crowded because what houses the 34th street stop for the A train…is also the home to the NJ Transit trains and Amtrak…way too many people in that place, not to mention the office buildings on top and MSG.As I make my jagged path to the other side of the station…
Standing directly in front of me looking at nothing in particular…stands a man.
I looked at his side profile…and smiled. From a distance, I casually walked around to the front of him…and smiled…harder.
I walked up to him and as I am walking towards him…he finally notices me. Straight face and straight back…he see’s me; he isn’t looking at me.
My 5’5 self walked up to his 6’2 self, and I say very casually…
“I wanted to make sure that I didn’t pass up this opportunity to be a tad bit shallow…and also to let you know what I think…you sho’ is nice to look at. I…just wanted you know that someone out there smiled and recognized that you are a beautiful black man.”
He just looked at me, surely thinking that I am a bit off and knowing New York does have a few crazy people, thinking I must have lost my yellow bus group…
And then... he smiled…a huge big beautiful smile.
“Ah see, what more could I ask for, that’s all I wanted was to make you smile.” I turned to walk away and he said…
“So this is what you do, you go around letting men know that they are beautiful?”
I sort of chuckled to myself because…he’s gonna make me stand here and talk to him when lawd knows…I can barely stand to look at him…because he really is that beautiful to me.
So I’d been bold, started out bold and even silly…so there was no way I could act the shy girl now…
“Well…yes, as a matter of fact I do. If I find you attractive that is. Not just any ol’ man ya know.”
Didn’t think it was possible…but his smile this time, was brighter and he too chuckled.
“I don’t live here, my train is delayed. I am from Philly. I am a professor at Such N Such University teaching Such N Such…I am telling you this so you feel more secure about… Well, would you be open to coming to Philly one day so I can show you around?”I paused, weighed and measure my next words…
“I am not good at long distance conversations… But yes, a guided tour around Philly and a good meal before I came home would be something I could do.”
“I knew you’d say that, you seem like the type for an adventure…and good company.”
I was 5 minutes late getting to lunch. I had to explain my tardiness…and I started it out with…
He was tall, dark and handsome with locs down the middle of his back and wire rimmed glasses and a book in his hand…after finishing my story
She said, “Bloop, I could never do that!”
“Girl, I don’t know I am going to do those things until the words are falling off my lips. He was next to perfect. If that doesn’t happen to him often, it should.”
I didn’t realize until a few gulps of cold water later and she and I looking at eachother that I was actually…anxious. We just looked at eachother and started giggling like two school girls crushin’ on the star basketball player.
*Tomorrow I’ll show you why…he’s gonna make me fall in love this summer*
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Sunday Up In Harlem
I wanted to complain about my weekend…you now, ‘cause that’s just what I do.
Even if it was some half way shit…Sunday made it all whole. I could have done without Friday and Saturday…wait…let me think…Saturday? Saturday was general conversation with the Little Jamaican who stopped by just to talk writing. Saturday eve had me surrounded by the spoken word, hosted by Organized Noise, in the presence of CAPCity, BGood and LoveBabz, with the protégé of Smooth.
But Sat night…well damn…now, I am not all the way clear on what had happened. I do know that 2 glasses of wine, 4 shots of patron and one vodka and cran later… I have no fucking idea how I made it up the brownstone steps, didn’t call any miscellaneous dick to come fondle my love bud, put jammas’ on and not wake up throwing up my guts from a hang over.
Sunday morning…Immean, Sunday afternoon…I was laid across my bed…PJ’s on the right way… not backwards as they sometimes have been…one foot hanging over the edge and head and arms hanging over the opposite side. I knew it was past time for me to be at church…and the way my body was marinating in Patron…no way I was going to sit up next to sista so-n-so smelling of stale alcohol and the faint essence of someone’s blunt still crawling through my strands of hair.
I rolled myself over to look at the clock with one eye open...and oh shit...It’s 1:20 in the afternoon…and I have got to be somewhere by 2:30… How I manage a shower, iron clothes, fix hair and apply some make-up and get out the house in a taxi by 2:15 I’m not sure…but 2:32, I am ringing the gate; the door; the doorbell to my final destination with blood shot eyes, looking more beautiful than I felt with my feet squeezed into brand new shoes…
Who have I become?
For the day…I was that chick.
Basking in all that Harlem used to be.
Feeling like this is how Miles got down. How James Baldwin, W.E.B., Ma Rainy, Zora Lee and Langston must have felt when they’d have their black collaborative get-togethers. I am on 116th at this man’s penthouse taking in the sounds of Miles as he tells me about his book Miles & Me being made into a movie… 35 of us congregated together...and I just sat back and listened to the quiet murmurs of black authors and activist, mentors and journalist talk shop and talk nice. We listened to Susan L. Taylor, her encouraging words as she answered our questions…and listened to her soft voice that touched my spirit. I am in a room full of talent and when I say talent…
I think I was the only one there who didn’t know anyone. I showed up at 2:30 but event wasn’t suppose to start until 3…so I am first…and early…hung over…but I am taking it all in and the ambiance is almost more than I can handle because…it just feels like I could have been living my life back then…
I could have been a part of that Harlem Renaissance… right here, right now, that day.
Even if it was some half way shit…Sunday made it all whole. I could have done without Friday and Saturday…wait…let me think…Saturday? Saturday was general conversation with the Little Jamaican who stopped by just to talk writing. Saturday eve had me surrounded by the spoken word, hosted by Organized Noise, in the presence of CAPCity, BGood and LoveBabz, with the protégé of Smooth.
But Sat night…well damn…now, I am not all the way clear on what had happened. I do know that 2 glasses of wine, 4 shots of patron and one vodka and cran later… I have no fucking idea how I made it up the brownstone steps, didn’t call any miscellaneous dick to come fondle my love bud, put jammas’ on and not wake up throwing up my guts from a hang over.
Sunday morning…Immean, Sunday afternoon…I was laid across my bed…PJ’s on the right way… not backwards as they sometimes have been…one foot hanging over the edge and head and arms hanging over the opposite side. I knew it was past time for me to be at church…and the way my body was marinating in Patron…no way I was going to sit up next to sista so-n-so smelling of stale alcohol and the faint essence of someone’s blunt still crawling through my strands of hair.
I rolled myself over to look at the clock with one eye open...and oh shit...It’s 1:20 in the afternoon…and I have got to be somewhere by 2:30… How I manage a shower, iron clothes, fix hair and apply some make-up and get out the house in a taxi by 2:15 I’m not sure…but 2:32, I am ringing the gate; the door; the doorbell to my final destination with blood shot eyes, looking more beautiful than I felt with my feet squeezed into brand new shoes…
Who have I become?
For the day…I was that chick.
Basking in all that Harlem used to be.
Feeling like this is how Miles got down. How James Baldwin, W.E.B., Ma Rainy, Zora Lee and Langston must have felt when they’d have their black collaborative get-togethers. I am on 116th at this man’s penthouse taking in the sounds of Miles as he tells me about his book Miles & Me being made into a movie… 35 of us congregated together...and I just sat back and listened to the quiet murmurs of black authors and activist, mentors and journalist talk shop and talk nice. We listened to Susan L. Taylor, her encouraging words as she answered our questions…and listened to her soft voice that touched my spirit. I am in a room full of talent and when I say talent…
...it’s still not just talent…
it’s vision, it’s hope, it’s a call to action, it’s all those things that make up the reasons we are drawn to that black man running for President…it’s here in this place too and I am surrounded by the positive, sitting in one of the most famous and oldest apartment buildings in Harlem; Graham Court…on a nice summer afternoon as it lightly rains, bringing that summer rain smell as we discuss SLT’s book and about mentoring our young black children.
I think I was the only one there who didn’t know anyone. I showed up at 2:30 but event wasn’t suppose to start until 3…so I am first…and early…hung over…but I am taking it all in and the ambiance is almost more than I can handle because…it just feels like I could have been living my life back then…
I could have been a part of that Harlem Renaissance… right here, right now, that day. Seemed like everyone there had written a book, was writing a book, had had a book made into a movie…and here I was…little ol’ me…writing my blog. Not even the kind of blog that you can tell people about…
I need to stop being so personal!
I was inspired to act, to move, to just do something other than what I have been doing…and because of that…I opened up.
This morning, I opened my email and I had 4 emails from people I had met… it wasn’t just lip service… they wanted to encourage me.
This is the second time I have been encouraged to move outside myself to make something of myself. I passed on the chance with Si..mon 'N Sch..uster last year…but it’d be 10 times foolish to pass on another, but quite different, opportunity again.
Easy, breezy, cool up in Harlem.
I need to stop being so personal!
I was inspired to act, to move, to just do something other than what I have been doing…and because of that…I opened up.
This morning, I opened my email and I had 4 emails from people I had met… it wasn’t just lip service… they wanted to encourage me.
This is the second time I have been encouraged to move outside myself to make something of myself. I passed on the chance with Si..mon 'N Sch..uster last year…but it’d be 10 times foolish to pass on another, but quite different, opportunity again.
Easy, breezy, cool up in Harlem.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Cherry Juice
I love cherries. No…Really I do...
…it’s like manna from heaven for me. That and sweet oranges and pluots. In general I just love fruit…but cherries…
Yummy in my tummy.
So the Little Jamaican bought me a gang of fruit… and well… I’ve been eating cherries. A lot of cherries.
I was eating cherries on the ottoman, on the couch…and even in my bed
I am sorta greedy and gluttonous when it comes to cherries… rushing to eat ‘em…liking the sweet firm cherries… the dark ones with the dark red juice…
I bit into a juicy cherry…
The other half of the juicy cherry?
Fell onto my bed…onto my sunshine yellow sheets…
Right between my legs…
I don’t know if men know what that means…
I can’t remember the last time I had a red spot on my sheets. Had to be right around the first time I had a red spot between my legs. Me being brand new to being a woman and all...
And for no reason whatsoever, I feel real triflin’ dropping my sunshine yellow sheets off at the laundry… and them seeing the big red spot in the middle of my sheets.
Believe me when I say... they aren't going to know the difference between yummy cherry juice and monthly cherry juice...
I’m debating if I am going to throw those suckers away or breakdown and wash my own damn sheets.
I don’t think I have washed my own clothes in about 3 years.
Either way, I am pretty sure I ain’t having the Spanish lady doing my clothes this round. I may even go to a different wash house…just in case.
Sidenote: Has anyone seen My Brother’s Wedding? It’s a black movie from back in the 70’s… parts of it are hilarious. It's a good movie...slow but good. Please see it if at all possible.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
To Old To Teach
“Usher is sexy as fuck… I don’t even think he is all that attractive but there is something about him that makes him sexy. If my man walked up to me and whispered in my ear…C’mere and let daddy show you what it feel like…he’d get the panties right there on the spot!”“Well maybe if your man knew that you’d make love in the club…he might.”
“Maybe if my man was to make a move…he’d know that sexing in the club isn’t something that’s brand new.”
“Wait! You’ve had sex in a club? You’re a freak!”
“I’m only a freak because it wasn’t with you…”
There is something to be said for an expert dater…
They know what to say and when to say it…they know when they are suppose to step up and not hesitate. They know when to be assertive and how to massage a situation that can be emotional …or volatile. They know where to go and how to dress, they know how to order what wine with what entrée. They’ve paid attention and perfected the two-step that dates tend to dance to, where to touch without being offensive, when to kiss, and have paid attention to the little details that most wouldn’t. They always have a story when there is a lull in the conversation…usually some funny antidote to relax a person. They have topics to encourage conversation…and if the other person is on par with their skills…it becomes a game of wits...which leads to the good part…the chase.
You see, at my age…I don’t want to have to teach anyone anything new. I am not into training anyone as if they were some pet animal. As much as some women spout off at the mouth about that action… fuck that, your grown and I am grown and this dating game is nothing new to either of us… don’t hesitate now!
I need for my date…my man…to PAY ATTENTION.
Maybe my expectation is too far up there but really… mid 30’s and on…I just expect a man to have paid attention to a woman that he has been dating… or if he loves women as men say they do…have you not taken the time to cultivate that talent to be able to gauge the tone of a conversation, the subtly of being arrogant yet cavalier, being a flirt and a gentleman all rolled up in one?
Sunday, June 15, 2008
My Daddy
I know no better man than my father.
With all his awesomeness…and with all his faults… the love this daughter has for her father is insurmountable.
For those that have been reading me…way back from my first blog, the 2nd one and this one…know that I have a great love and respect for my father. I am proud to be his daughter.
For me,
He is everything good that... is, could be, or will be…
In honor of my father…I want to introduce you to him…
With all his awesomeness…and with all his faults… the love this daughter has for her father is insurmountable.
For those that have been reading me…way back from my first blog, the 2nd one and this one…know that I have a great love and respect for my father. I am proud to be his daughter.
For me,
He is everything good that... is, could be, or will be…
In honor of my father…I want to introduce you to him…
(my daddy and I camping...1970's)
Because of my love for him…and being proud of who he is…I have written about him. My story has been published in an anthology about Black Fathers. Please feel free to buy the book and hopefully you will see why I love him and honor him, as well as encourages and inspre all fathers out there.
Our Black Fathers: Brave, Bold & Beautiful
We come from a strong tradition of storytellers. Therefore, it is contingent upon us to ensure that our father's legacies are preserved and expose truths rarely revealed about the tremendous beauty, strength and importance of Black men who loved us --- Our Black Fathers: Brave Bold and Beautiful!
The image of Black men floating up from the depths of muddy bayous and rivers, and dangling limply from the boughs of old Magnolia trees, life brutally siphoned from them before their time, is a painfully haunting reminder of the brutality they have endured. That same emotion surfaces when Black men are called "boy" and treated as invisibly as author Ralph Ellison wrote -- the constant flood of racial degradation never ending.
When lesser men would have given up, our black fathers soldier on, proving that they are more powerful and brilliant than those who oppress them and seek to negate their promise.
The saga of legions of Black men on any continent where they've existed, is too often about dreams denied and lives unrecognized for their worth. The truth about what I knew about my own late father's empowering significance, and other men I had witnessed, spawned an idea for a book. When Anita Royston (co-author of Our Black Fathers: Brave, Bold and Beautiful), relayed her enthusiasm when recounting her own positive relationship with her father, we knew that there were other unsung heroes (living and deceased, from generations past and present), who had positively impacted their children's lives. Thus, it became critical for their posterity, to reveal their stories and dispel the myth that unjustly depicts all, or most fathers of African descent as absent and unaccountable. Their stories of love, wisdom, survival, setbacks, fears, frustrations and successes despite a burgeoning storm of racial oppression must be heard!
HAPPY FATHER’S DAY TO MY DADDY…
...and to all the FATHERS.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
12:1
You all know why I do this...
To stay sane.
Not that I think I am insane...but then most that are don't think they are. But I'm not dammit!
I don't think.
On my ride from Nanjing to Wuxi I had a long talk with myself...
I wrote and made lists and came to some desicions about what I was going to do with myself when I got back to NYC.
But as you all know me... I made the deciscions without really peeling back the many different layers. It's that part of me that likes to keep things light and not really see that only I am responsible for my own life. Being a surface thinker allows me to be irresponsible and depend on other people. That I have been knowing for some time now... probably forever. I just don't speak on it often because again... it's my avoiding that makes me the adorable mercurial and etherous person that they say I am. Ha!
So as fields of crops are passing by me and I am seeing how simple people live and how I (American) take so much for granted and how...unnecessary most material things are...I felt that the things that had been important to me... seem so trivial in the big picture of what I need in my life to make me happy. Really happy.
I had plans for myself and even though I have only been home for 3 days...seems as if I have settled back into being... in a self imposed exile. I haven' even started the things I planned.
I haven't been sleeping... last night I fell asleep at 7 this morning...yesterday it was 5:30 and the night before that it was 4:30. I knwo that I am worried... stressed about what I am doing ... I feel sort of silly even being worried over anything...especially after seeing how the farmers lived along that stretch from Nanjing to Wuxi.
I realize that I have been ungrateful and that I have not appreciated what I had or those around me.
I am also aware of who has been appreciating me.
It's been thundering for the past hour...has yet to rain. I had plans... it's 4:38 and I haven't left my bed today.
I am about to save myself.
I'm about to head to the movies.
Yesterday I got the ghetto nails...I didn't cut them down so they are long...but I also got a design put on them. Now besides french manicure I keep my nails simple...either a red or a pinkish clear polish...basic and professional. Well since I am not working, I figured that I can be as ghetto as I wanna be. Well, I don't think I have it me to be I Love New York ghetto...but I think I can represent my hood of E. Oakland...lol
Sidenote to the Women: In China men out number the women. Finally, a place were I am an asset.
To stay sane.
Not that I think I am insane...but then most that are don't think they are. But I'm not dammit!
I don't think.
On my ride from Nanjing to Wuxi I had a long talk with myself...I wrote and made lists and came to some desicions about what I was going to do with myself when I got back to NYC.
But as you all know me... I made the deciscions without really peeling back the many different layers. It's that part of me that likes to keep things light and not really see that only I am responsible for my own life. Being a surface thinker allows me to be irresponsible and depend on other people. That I have been knowing for some time now... probably forever. I just don't speak on it often because again... it's my avoiding that makes me the adorable mercurial and etherous person that they say I am. Ha!
So as fields of crops are passing by me and I am seeing how simple people live and how I (American) take so much for granted and how...unnecessary most material things are...I felt that the things that had been important to me... seem so trivial in the big picture of what I need in my life to make me happy. Really happy.
I had plans for myself and even though I have only been home for 3 days...seems as if I have settled back into being... in a self imposed exile. I haven' even started the things I planned.
I haven't been sleeping... last night I fell asleep at 7 this morning...yesterday it was 5:30 and the night before that it was 4:30. I knwo that I am worried... stressed about what I am doing ... I feel sort of silly even being worried over anything...especially after seeing how the farmers lived along that stretch from Nanjing to Wuxi.
I realize that I have been ungrateful and that I have not appreciated what I had or those around me.
I am also aware of who has been appreciating me.
It's been thundering for the past hour...has yet to rain. I had plans... it's 4:38 and I haven't left my bed today.
I am about to save myself.
I'm about to head to the movies.
Yesterday I got the ghetto nails...I didn't cut them down so they are long...but I also got a design put on them. Now besides french manicure I keep my nails simple...either a red or a pinkish clear polish...basic and professional. Well since I am not working, I figured that I can be as ghetto as I wanna be. Well, I don't think I have it me to be I Love New York ghetto...but I think I can represent my hood of E. Oakland...lol
Sidenote to the Women: In China men out number the women. Finally, a place were I am an asset.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
...and you say what????
So what if I am out of the loop and probably a few years behind on the Facebook thing...shut up!
I uploaded some pictures last night ...
SIDENOTE: I text so much and abbreviate everything...why did I almost just forget how to spell "pictures"...WACK! But "pic" is so much faster...lol
...and then it must have took me another hour just to figure out how to edit it them!....and looking for friends?....Fuggetaboutit!!! I figured I'd sit and try and navigate it this morning...another wack move because I still can't figure it out.
On to more important news...
I am taking the boys to the Oakland A's and Yankee game tonight...our last night together before I head home...after being gone for almost a month. Oldest is a Yankee fan and Youngest is an Oakland fan...much smack has been said between the both of them.
I have been spending money like it is going out of style...like it's the thing to do...like I GOT A DAMN JOB!
I thought I asked the Little Jamaican to deposit a check for me...but I hadn't...so let me just say..I am so glad he didn't because it will be nice ot go home to a check that's just waiting for me. On Thursday I have plans and as I was making the plans I was thinking... haven't I had enough trapezing around..shouldn't I just relax?! I have had my first sunburn of the summer...and it's hurts and itches. budda, I'mma be a nice almond brown...or is that cafe latte brown...or is it more like the ginger ale brown I always thoguth I was to begin with...whatever...so amny browns out there...let's just say I'mma be one of them.
So apparently I am not in the know as much as I think I am...
The first time I had absinthe was in New Orleans with Keith... On a late night when most were down on Bourbon street... I watched her pore it over a sugar cube, watched her melt it with a lighter, watched it strain into my glass... thought it was all mystical on a secluded cobble-stoned street in a misty New Orleans. I felt all voodoo-ish as she concocted me a drink that say...Marie Laveau might have been proud of..although she'da probably added some powder to make me become a zombie or something. Actually, whoever this bar mixologist was...she had me fucked up...and Keith. That was my first experiment with the devil's brew of absinthe.
Anyway, Absinthe is legal now...as of last year...so it can be sold in the US again. The great minds over at Tailor have coime up with an absinthe gummi bear....!
So you know...I am going to ahve to make my way over there and try me a few. I was told that after 4 of them that you can't standup. C'mon now...4 itsy bitsy gummi bears??? Well, I'll report back.
Still in Okaland until tomorrow at 1:25pm...touch down at JFK at 10:15pm...in my bed at 11:00pm. All I know...is my sheets better be clean and I better have some groceries in my refrigerator. I ain't playing SON!
Friday, June 6, 2008
Part 2 Slish/Slasher...
I said I would continue with my story but...I had actually forgotten until this morning...when I was kindly reminded that it needed to be finished...
Read back here for first part of story...
So without further adeu...
~~~~~
CA says....."I like you."
....and then he did this little growl thing in my ear.
I laughed and thought it was cute... no, sexy! Thinking that this man and I MIGHT just hit it off DESPITE the fact of him being shorter than me. After all, I love a man that is aggressive and a little nasty....and those kinky animal noises had me tingling in anticipation of where this could go.
The three of us start walking into Dewey's but Slish being Slish...knows e'ery mutha and their mother...so he stops to say hello to a few people on our way in....which leaves me in the vice of Corp America once again...........unattended by Slish.
"Have you been here before?"
Bloop: "Naw, but Slish talks about it all the time."
"I hate this place."
Bloop: "Then why did you come?"......
....at this point CA looks at me like I wasn't suppose to ask that question...it dawns on me after I say it that this muthascooter came because I WAS COMING. Ugh!, I can be so dense sometimes. Was this a set up?
The plan was for just Slish and I to hang out and at the last minute CA decided to come.......or so I thought.
I don't mind but then I DO mind...'cause that means that I am on stage tonight. FUCK! No more being me...now I gotta be fun, cute, witty and clever....da hell?!! Usually when I try to be these things...I usually come across as being corny...grrrreat!
We get inside and head upstairs. From the little that I could see, Dewey's seems like a pretty cool spot to hang out. I've wanted to go back a couple of times but 1) Slish and I always end up back in Harlem and 2) I don't know the other reasons....lol
Now...I am gravitating more towards Slish because I know him...and so I defer to him in all things (I even do this now.) In saying that...I felt that I was waiting on Slish...I mean if he stops to talk to someone then I stop. If he goes up stairs then I go upstairs. If he's ready to go then I am ready to go.........it is what it is. The reason I bring this up is because we get upstairs and Slish introduces me to a few guys. These guys see me come in with 2 guys....CA has very conviently set it up so that for the first part of the evening I am standing either by his right leg OR between his legs (we were standing at a bar) YET I defer to Slish for everything. I want a drink I tell Slish. I need to go to the bathroom I ask Slish where it is. I am hungry, I tell Slish.
Now e'eryone is wondering who the fuck am I with?!?! I let CA whisper TO CLOSE to my ear, I let him rest his hand on my thigh when I sit down in the barstool, I let him make innuendos, he takes ownership as he puts his arm around the back of my chair and plays in my hair, I let him think that it's all good in the hood. At the same time I am looking for Slish. He steps away and talks to friends, yet comes back to make sure I am taken care of...asking if I need another drink or anything. Now I AM starting to see what they are looking at....looks like I am being shared by these two men. Aw Hell No!! Well maybe.....
One friend that I am introduced to is a comedian...I guess a very well known comedian, although I've never seen him or heard of him. He's making jokes and at some point during the evening...he asks Slish if I am with him. Slish says no, then he poses the same question to CA...CA says no but then looks at me, as if to ask me if that was the right answer....huh? Of course that calls for the Scooby Doo look.
...Big Comedy then proceeds to ask me if I am with ANYONE....well aaaaa...no. So Big Comedy sets his sights on me.....grrrrrreat. If I am not interested in short guys...guess how I feel about short CHUBBY guys?
Jokes are being tossed around and Big Comedy has tons of stories about he and Slish to tell. He is funny so we all are laughing our asses off. Big Comedy drinks nothing but water, I am having my Grey Goose with the splash of cran, Slish is drinking some pimp juice (don't ask, he always has some special drink that the bartender has made specifically for him) and I have bought CA a glass of wine (sorta pretentious to have wine in a bar and your a dude...but hey! you like it, I love it).... After a while we see that nothing is going on in Dewey's and we are feeling like we need to be surrounded by people of our persuasion.....black folks...so someone suggests The Den...it's a plan and we head out the door on our way........
We get outside and there is confusion about cars and who is riding with who....Big Comedy doesn't know where The Den is and I ALWAYS leave with who I came with.
.......so CA had a decision to make.....
He pulls me to the side and ask me to ride with him and Big Comedy. Now had Corporate America drove, I would have ridden...rode...caught a ride...lol with him but since Slish drove and I KNOW Slish....me riding with new booty Corporate and new friend Big Comedy wasn't gonna happen.
I tell CA that I am gonna ride with Slasher, oops I mean Slish...............he asks me if I am sure. Bloop:"Yes, I am sure." Am I really coming or is Slish going to drop me off at home?
Bloop:"I am really coming." CA says, "I really want to talk to you, so come."
Bloop: "Ok African! I said I was coming now stop being a bitch and let's go!".......(that part was paraphrased..lol)
Off CA goes with Big Comedy...and Slasher and I get in the car.
It took Slasher and I an hour and a half to get uptown....which would have normally been at the most a 30 minute ride. Where and what Slasher and I did and talked about is completely lost to me AND HIM. Why it took us so long, WE have no idea. Although, I do remember us talking about my ex being there since he had been making MY new spot his new spot all the sudden. Slish semi knows the ex...secretly...so we were both talking about the chances of him being there, which would not have been good........'cause he IS my ex but then again on the other hand...he's NOT my ex........ (that's that Jedi mind trick female logic)
In MY defense.....I had 2 grey goose and crans, 2 shots of something and half a glass of Slish's special concoction. I was fucked up. I was more than fucked up, I was fucked the hell up!
I walked up in The Den to find.......
.........CA was sitting in the booth with his arm around this drop dead gorgeous chick. It would seem that I lost out on my chance for some new ass for the night........
..........or so, that's what I thought until..............
Read back here for first part of story...
So without further adeu...
~~~~~
CA says....."I like you."
....and then he did this little growl thing in my ear.
I laughed and thought it was cute... no, sexy! Thinking that this man and I MIGHT just hit it off DESPITE the fact of him being shorter than me. After all, I love a man that is aggressive and a little nasty....and those kinky animal noises had me tingling in anticipation of where this could go.
The three of us start walking into Dewey's but Slish being Slish...knows e'ery mutha and their mother...so he stops to say hello to a few people on our way in....which leaves me in the vice of Corp America once again...........unattended by Slish.
"Have you been here before?"
Bloop: "Naw, but Slish talks about it all the time."
"I hate this place."
Bloop: "Then why did you come?"......
....at this point CA looks at me like I wasn't suppose to ask that question...it dawns on me after I say it that this muthascooter came because I WAS COMING. Ugh!, I can be so dense sometimes. Was this a set up?
The plan was for just Slish and I to hang out and at the last minute CA decided to come.......or so I thought.
I don't mind but then I DO mind...'cause that means that I am on stage tonight. FUCK! No more being me...now I gotta be fun, cute, witty and clever....da hell?!! Usually when I try to be these things...I usually come across as being corny...grrrreat!
We get inside and head upstairs. From the little that I could see, Dewey's seems like a pretty cool spot to hang out. I've wanted to go back a couple of times but 1) Slish and I always end up back in Harlem and 2) I don't know the other reasons....lol
Now...I am gravitating more towards Slish because I know him...and so I defer to him in all things (I even do this now.) In saying that...I felt that I was waiting on Slish...I mean if he stops to talk to someone then I stop. If he goes up stairs then I go upstairs. If he's ready to go then I am ready to go.........it is what it is. The reason I bring this up is because we get upstairs and Slish introduces me to a few guys. These guys see me come in with 2 guys....CA has very conviently set it up so that for the first part of the evening I am standing either by his right leg OR between his legs (we were standing at a bar) YET I defer to Slish for everything. I want a drink I tell Slish. I need to go to the bathroom I ask Slish where it is. I am hungry, I tell Slish.
Now e'eryone is wondering who the fuck am I with?!?! I let CA whisper TO CLOSE to my ear, I let him rest his hand on my thigh when I sit down in the barstool, I let him make innuendos, he takes ownership as he puts his arm around the back of my chair and plays in my hair, I let him think that it's all good in the hood. At the same time I am looking for Slish. He steps away and talks to friends, yet comes back to make sure I am taken care of...asking if I need another drink or anything. Now I AM starting to see what they are looking at....looks like I am being shared by these two men. Aw Hell No!! Well maybe.....
One friend that I am introduced to is a comedian...I guess a very well known comedian, although I've never seen him or heard of him. He's making jokes and at some point during the evening...he asks Slish if I am with him. Slish says no, then he poses the same question to CA...CA says no but then looks at me, as if to ask me if that was the right answer....huh? Of course that calls for the Scooby Doo look.
...Big Comedy then proceeds to ask me if I am with ANYONE....well aaaaa...no. So Big Comedy sets his sights on me.....grrrrrreat. If I am not interested in short guys...guess how I feel about short CHUBBY guys?
Jokes are being tossed around and Big Comedy has tons of stories about he and Slish to tell. He is funny so we all are laughing our asses off. Big Comedy drinks nothing but water, I am having my Grey Goose with the splash of cran, Slish is drinking some pimp juice (don't ask, he always has some special drink that the bartender has made specifically for him) and I have bought CA a glass of wine (sorta pretentious to have wine in a bar and your a dude...but hey! you like it, I love it).... After a while we see that nothing is going on in Dewey's and we are feeling like we need to be surrounded by people of our persuasion.....black folks...so someone suggests The Den...it's a plan and we head out the door on our way........
We get outside and there is confusion about cars and who is riding with who....Big Comedy doesn't know where The Den is and I ALWAYS leave with who I came with.
.......so CA had a decision to make.....
He pulls me to the side and ask me to ride with him and Big Comedy. Now had Corporate America drove, I would have ridden...rode...caught a ride...lol with him but since Slish drove and I KNOW Slish....me riding with new booty Corporate and new friend Big Comedy wasn't gonna happen.
I tell CA that I am gonna ride with Slasher, oops I mean Slish...............he asks me if I am sure. Bloop:"Yes, I am sure." Am I really coming or is Slish going to drop me off at home?
Bloop:"I am really coming." CA says, "I really want to talk to you, so come."
Bloop: "Ok African! I said I was coming now stop being a bitch and let's go!".......(that part was paraphrased..lol)
Off CA goes with Big Comedy...and Slasher and I get in the car.
It took Slasher and I an hour and a half to get uptown....which would have normally been at the most a 30 minute ride. Where and what Slasher and I did and talked about is completely lost to me AND HIM. Why it took us so long, WE have no idea. Although, I do remember us talking about my ex being there since he had been making MY new spot his new spot all the sudden. Slish semi knows the ex...secretly...so we were both talking about the chances of him being there, which would not have been good........'cause he IS my ex but then again on the other hand...he's NOT my ex........ (that's that Jedi mind trick female logic)
In MY defense.....I had 2 grey goose and crans, 2 shots of something and half a glass of Slish's special concoction. I was fucked up. I was more than fucked up, I was fucked the hell up!
I walked up in The Den to find.......
.........CA was sitting in the booth with his arm around this drop dead gorgeous chick. It would seem that I lost out on my chance for some new ass for the night........
..........or so, that's what I thought until..............
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Peeing, More Walking...and Chinese Torture?
See, no one told me... so it is my responsibility to tell y'all. Two things when it comes to women using the bathroom in China...
1) Bring your own toilet paper...and have it handy for each and every bathroom you go to...even if it's a restaurant.
2) Be prepared to squat...literally...doesn't matter if it's a 5 star restaurant. Now, some may have conventional toilets...but again...just be prepared....
This pic is out side of the bathroom in the Forbidden City. Some of you may remember the movie... The Last Emperor...the movie was filmed mostly in this ancient/historical city.
(Sign was probably not apart of original city...lol)
This is a pic of the space I had to shoot for (pee in). I fortunately did not run across a stall that someone had #2'd in. 'Cause had I... it'd just sit there until the timed flush would have gone off and everyones waste would be carried away.
Now when I say waste..I mena bodily waste. Not toilet tissue you use to wipe with. Toilet paper...used...goes in a small waste basket in the corner. You aren't suppose to flush the toilet paper... Chinese plumbing is not so good...and they are afraid that toilet paper will clog up the system. Again...this is in every bathroom you go to...whether restaurant or not.
Which I might add...leaves a horrible smell in the bathroom...which means that there is usually incence burning.
I know I am suppose to know where this is...and I do, it's in my notes somewhere... This is the Tomb of Dr. Sun Yat-sen. Very beautiful color of blue...
Agan... it consisted of me walking...and walking ...up lots of stairs...
...and walking...
To see this guy... which is a very impressive statue...
...and I am pretty sure I wasn't suppose to take this picture below...as you will see...I took many picture I am sure I wasn't suppose to take. Then again....I have over 1000 pics so...maybe you won't see it.
Here is the view looking back down at the gate I originally started at... you actually have to click on the pictre to make it bigger to see where I actually came from...lol
In the Forbidden City... There are a ton of signs like below...I took pictures of several of them...I think I will put them in frames and hang them by the doorways to certain rooms in my home...:)
Here is a shot of the Forbidden City as I am coming into it...actually...I have walked a great distance before I took this picture.
I just thought this was cruel and unusual treatment...
1) Bring your own toilet paper...and have it handy for each and every bathroom you go to...even if it's a restaurant.
2) Be prepared to squat...literally...doesn't matter if it's a 5 star restaurant. Now, some may have conventional toilets...but again...just be prepared....
This pic is out side of the bathroom in the Forbidden City. Some of you may remember the movie... The Last Emperor...the movie was filmed mostly in this ancient/historical city.
(Sign was probably not apart of original city...lol)
This is a pic of the space I had to shoot for (pee in). I fortunately did not run across a stall that someone had #2'd in. 'Cause had I... it'd just sit there until the timed flush would have gone off and everyones waste would be carried away.Now when I say waste..I mena bodily waste. Not toilet tissue you use to wipe with. Toilet paper...used...goes in a small waste basket in the corner. You aren't suppose to flush the toilet paper... Chinese plumbing is not so good...and they are afraid that toilet paper will clog up the system. Again...this is in every bathroom you go to...whether restaurant or not.
Which I might add...leaves a horrible smell in the bathroom...which means that there is usually incence burning.
I know I am suppose to know where this is...and I do, it's in my notes somewhere... This is the Tomb of Dr. Sun Yat-sen. Very beautiful color of blue...Agan... it consisted of me walking...and walking ...up lots of stairs...
...and walking...
To see this guy... which is a very impressive statue...
...and I am pretty sure I wasn't suppose to take this picture below...as you will see...I took many picture I am sure I wasn't suppose to take. Then again....I have over 1000 pics so...maybe you won't see it.
Here is the view looking back down at the gate I originally started at... you actually have to click on the pictre to make it bigger to see where I actually came from...lol
In the Forbidden City... There are a ton of signs like below...I took pictures of several of them...I think I will put them in frames and hang them by the doorways to certain rooms in my home...:)
Here is a shot of the Forbidden City as I am coming into it...actually...I have walked a great distance before I took this picture.I am just pcking random pictures...from different cities.
Hopefully you can follow along and understand my ramblings.
I just thought this was cruel and unusual treatment...All the other toll-booth workers were in the boothes...he was sitting outside his. And it is damn hot in China...damn hot!!
I am officially back on US soil... I swear fa-gawd...if I neva eva have chinese food again it will be too soon. Breakfast, lunch and dinner...chinese! And y'all can't even imagine some of the stuff I was eating...hell, to be honest, I don't know what I was eating. We got to Shanghai...and I had my first McDonalds hamburger after 8 days of non-stop chinese. I don't even like fast food but I swear that was the best tasting hamburger ever made. The last 2 days in Hong Kong I only had water, coffee and tea... I just couldn't bring myself to eat anymore.
I am officially back on US soil... I swear fa-gawd...if I neva eva have chinese food again it will be too soon. Breakfast, lunch and dinner...chinese! And y'all can't even imagine some of the stuff I was eating...hell, to be honest, I don't know what I was eating. We got to Shanghai...and I had my first McDonalds hamburger after 8 days of non-stop chinese. I don't even like fast food but I swear that was the best tasting hamburger ever made. The last 2 days in Hong Kong I only had water, coffee and tea... I just couldn't bring myself to eat anymore.Yes, yes, I know I was in China and I know that I shouldn't have expected anything other than that... but I was hoping for something...anything. Oh well...let's hope eating very little, since I couldn't hold the damn chopsticks right...and all my food falling out between them...hence it taking me longer than anyone else to eat...which made me frusterated...which meant I was too mad to eat!!!...has shed some pounds of my 350 lbs body frame.
I still don't get to sleep in my own bed until the 11th. Until then...I am in Oakland Califor-NI-A.
B~E~Z
I'm out!
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
They Got Me Walking
I looked and was like...I can do that...after all...I am a hiker...a rock scrambler...
I made it. Let me tell you this though... my ass is more outta shape than I thought. I seriously thought about just staying in China...up on the Great Wall. THAT'S how sore I was.
Coming down you'd think wuld be easy...NOT. Because your legs are used to climbing up...going down is harder...your legs start to shake like they are giving out. I usually only feel this way after a good sex round... all wobbly in the knees... this isn't quite along those painful/pleasurable lines...
I am not sure how many gardens we have gone to..but A LOT. They are all beautiful. Not parks...but gardens.
I also have to mention ALL OF THE BUDDHA TEMPLES we have gone to. Here is a warrior of heaven protecting the gates of Heaven.
And in case you were wondering... Jackie Chan has his own coffee shop. Wack coffee. Shhh, don't tell him I said so...he might hand chop me in the neck after he drop kicks a couch at me.
More to come...
I made it. Let me tell you this though... my ass is more outta shape than I thought. I seriously thought about just staying in China...up on the Great Wall. THAT'S how sore I was.Coming down you'd think wuld be easy...NOT. Because your legs are used to climbing up...going down is harder...your legs start to shake like they are giving out. I usually only feel this way after a good sex round... all wobbly in the knees... this isn't quite along those painful/pleasurable lines...
I am not sure how many gardens we have gone to..but A LOT. They are all beautiful. Not parks...but gardens.
I also have to mention ALL OF THE BUDDHA TEMPLES we have gone to. Here is a warrior of heaven protecting the gates of Heaven.
And in case you were wondering... Jackie Chan has his own coffee shop. Wack coffee. Shhh, don't tell him I said so...he might hand chop me in the neck after he drop kicks a couch at me.
More to come...
