Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Randomness of He and I
I just sat there and tried to not make eye contact with anyone. I probably looked real simple-minded to the average person walking down the street but I couldn’t help it.
Apparently my [un] covert way of avoiding people only really works in my mind because as I sat out on the stoop waiting…and waiting…a guy came up and asked me what I was mixed with.
Now just for politically correctness and over all couth…one should not walk up to another and ask them what they are mixed with. At least not at the age that I am now…and at the age that he was also…but I forget...I am sitting on a stoop...in Harlem.
This is going to sound odd…
But I hate looking different sometimes. I never really even thought about what I looked like until I moved to the east coast. But, I am constantly reminded that I am not the same. And to be even more complicated…of course I don’t want to be the same as everyone else but I don’t want to be approached because I am not. Or maybe I do. Whatever.
My Saturday was filled from top to bottom and I honestly hadn’t even thought that I’d be in the streets all day. I got up and took my time to get out because …well I am lazy as shit these past days. I knew that I had 3 things planned and wanted to make sure that I had at least an hour nap in between activities 2 and 3. Ummm, no.
I got out and dressed to show skin…it was sunny and I still I haven’t made it to my expected tan for the summer so I have been trying to be in the sun as much as possible so I could be as brown as possible…although my brown usually has a red undertone…wack. On one shoulder was my purse and the other my grass mat and folding chair…and before I made it down my 4 floors I was sweating like a ….[I refuse to compare myself to a pig.] And honestly, do pigs really sweat? So I walked up the block to the Harlem Book Fair and tried to get in the mood. Mood for what? Mood for ghetto lit being thrown my face. When I first started going to the book fair it was down on 125…since then it has moved up to 135th and it was at least 5 blocks long. Now it’s regulated to 2 blocks and the Schomberg. Disappointing. One block was for ghetto lit with a few [very few] tables for legit writers…and the next block was food and vendors. I walked in and walked out. I used to buy a good 7-10 books when I’d to go to the HBF…Saturday I walked out with not one single book. I’d much rather go into B&N and find a book worth substance than “support my black brethren and sistern”. Which in and of itself is sad. But I just can not support a shuffle and jive event like HBF. I can not say that I will even go back to HBF next year. Year after year I have gone and year after year it has gone down…down…down.
I left there and had to high-tail it to see QTip at summerstage. Can you be sun-logged? I have spent a good majority of 90 days in the sun and I am thinking I am having the raisin skin syndrome… and I am still struggling for a tan. Like a real tan…they say dsrker the berry, sweeter the juice so…me being the lighter side of ginger ale I figured I try and get a little sweeter. I can’t say that it’s working. I was hoping for a color that would carry me into the winter months…
From Central Park I headed back to the house to get changed and showered for the next phase of my Saturday. That didn't happen because...I was locked out of my apartment. So sticky, sweaty and summer dress me, had to go to function without nary a drop of water on me to make me feel all clean and shit. So...this is why I was sitting on my stoop while being assulted by random dudes asking me about my damn heritage. It was there, on my stoop, that I had to wait for the Fireman to come and pick me up…to head to BB Kings.
On his way over he called me and aske dif I would spend the night but…eh, I am cool with spending the night and having to wrestle or catch an attitude. I am not sure I am ready for whatever and whatever with this particular person isn’t really a stay or leave situation. I care about his heart and right now…I am in no position to play with it. Actually, I have never played with it. Matter of fact, I have always stepped away from it to safe guard it. I consider him my friend. Nothing less and nothing more. So I am not going to fuck around and take in his goodness just because I am on some other shit right now. This is the area that Slish wanders into when he is deciding [ordering] I should…sloooow dooown. Which isn't needed because I know when to step back and take a look around and realize that things aren't what they should be...
We went to the “concert”, ate and enjoyed the music, food and company and then I asked him to take me home. I could tell that that wasn’t his plan, that he wanted to try and convince me to lay in his bed but I looked at him as if to say...please don't make me have to be a complete ass…but he understood. Sort of.
He took me home and although it isn’t what I want it to be right now, it is still my little sanctuary.
I set my alarm because I knew that I had to be up and ready by a certain time to join him for brunch the next morning...
I spoke to my father the other day, I wanted to wish him well and remind him to send me his itinerary…he is off to Ecuador for two weeks…
As we talked, he told me that he had deleted all the graduation-week pictures that had Dude in them. At the time I said that I had to go through my pic album and start deleting too…but when I opened up my pics…I realized I was going to have to keep some…because most of the pics from that week in California…well he’s in the pictures with the boys in some way. And there is no way I am deleting pictures of my boys.
When he came by to get his stuff a few weeks back…I’d made a cd of pictures for him, of him. I didn’t label it on purpose and to think of it…he probably hasn’t even looked at the cd. I don’t know…my friends have said that I was too nice in even doing that but…fuck it, I have never been one that was into tit-for-tat…I knew I had pictures that he didn’t have and not just of him but his niece and his cousin so I put them on the cd as well. I am pretty sure I put other random pics on there because I was trying to hurry, so selecting all to copy was easier than doing one at a time.
Well…the other day I was going through my cell and I realized I had pictures of him from the inaugural ball, sitting on my couch naked from when he came to my house one morning wearing nothing but a trench coat [lol], him laying on the bed at the Ritz-Carlton in Philly and other random shots…well, I emailed those to myself and then deleted them from my phone… I don’t know why I haven’t deleted them completely. I am sure that part of it is because of certain memories of places…but the other part is because I still haven’t completely gotten over the fact that I got played in the end. I could delete the pictures but it wouldn’t delete the memory so…I’d like to think that some, if not most, of those pictures that show him and I smiling…I’d like to think that it was real at that moment even if it was a lie as a whole.
Blah!
I know there will come a time that I will trash them but I have actually got a huge 2 year library of photos of him and I…
I could, at the very least…move all those pics into one single file and just hide it somewhere…ah…I don’t know. Fuck!
Apparently my [un] covert way of avoiding people only really works in my mind because as I sat out on the stoop waiting…and waiting…a guy came up and asked me what I was mixed with.
Now just for politically correctness and over all couth…one should not walk up to another and ask them what they are mixed with. At least not at the age that I am now…and at the age that he was also…but I forget...I am sitting on a stoop...in Harlem.
This is going to sound odd…
But I hate looking different sometimes. I never really even thought about what I looked like until I moved to the east coast. But, I am constantly reminded that I am not the same. And to be even more complicated…of course I don’t want to be the same as everyone else but I don’t want to be approached because I am not. Or maybe I do. Whatever.
My Saturday was filled from top to bottom and I honestly hadn’t even thought that I’d be in the streets all day. I got up and took my time to get out because …well I am lazy as shit these past days. I knew that I had 3 things planned and wanted to make sure that I had at least an hour nap in between activities 2 and 3. Ummm, no.
I got out and dressed to show skin…it was sunny and I still I haven’t made it to my expected tan for the summer so I have been trying to be in the sun as much as possible so I could be as brown as possible…although my brown usually has a red undertone…wack. On one shoulder was my purse and the other my grass mat and folding chair…and before I made it down my 4 floors I was sweating like a ….[I refuse to compare myself to a pig.] And honestly, do pigs really sweat? So I walked up the block to the Harlem Book Fair and tried to get in the mood. Mood for what? Mood for ghetto lit being thrown my face. When I first started going to the book fair it was down on 125…since then it has moved up to 135th and it was at least 5 blocks long. Now it’s regulated to 2 blocks and the Schomberg. Disappointing. One block was for ghetto lit with a few [very few] tables for legit writers…and the next block was food and vendors. I walked in and walked out. I used to buy a good 7-10 books when I’d to go to the HBF…Saturday I walked out with not one single book. I’d much rather go into B&N and find a book worth substance than “support my black brethren and sistern”. Which in and of itself is sad. But I just can not support a shuffle and jive event like HBF. I can not say that I will even go back to HBF next year. Year after year I have gone and year after year it has gone down…down…down.
I left there and had to high-tail it to see QTip at summerstage. Can you be sun-logged? I have spent a good majority of 90 days in the sun and I am thinking I am having the raisin skin syndrome… and I am still struggling for a tan. Like a real tan…they say dsrker the berry, sweeter the juice so…me being the lighter side of ginger ale I figured I try and get a little sweeter. I can’t say that it’s working. I was hoping for a color that would carry me into the winter months…
From Central Park I headed back to the house to get changed and showered for the next phase of my Saturday. That didn't happen because...I was locked out of my apartment. So sticky, sweaty and summer dress me, had to go to function without nary a drop of water on me to make me feel all clean and shit. So...this is why I was sitting on my stoop while being assulted by random dudes asking me about my damn heritage. It was there, on my stoop, that I had to wait for the Fireman to come and pick me up…to head to BB Kings.
On his way over he called me and aske dif I would spend the night but…eh, I am cool with spending the night and having to wrestle or catch an attitude. I am not sure I am ready for whatever and whatever with this particular person isn’t really a stay or leave situation. I care about his heart and right now…I am in no position to play with it. Actually, I have never played with it. Matter of fact, I have always stepped away from it to safe guard it. I consider him my friend. Nothing less and nothing more. So I am not going to fuck around and take in his goodness just because I am on some other shit right now. This is the area that Slish wanders into when he is deciding [ordering] I should…sloooow dooown. Which isn't needed because I know when to step back and take a look around and realize that things aren't what they should be...
We went to the “concert”, ate and enjoyed the music, food and company and then I asked him to take me home. I could tell that that wasn’t his plan, that he wanted to try and convince me to lay in his bed but I looked at him as if to say...please don't make me have to be a complete ass…but he understood. Sort of.
He took me home and although it isn’t what I want it to be right now, it is still my little sanctuary.
I set my alarm because I knew that I had to be up and ready by a certain time to join him for brunch the next morning...
I spoke to my father the other day, I wanted to wish him well and remind him to send me his itinerary…he is off to Ecuador for two weeks…
As we talked, he told me that he had deleted all the graduation-week pictures that had Dude in them. At the time I said that I had to go through my pic album and start deleting too…but when I opened up my pics…I realized I was going to have to keep some…because most of the pics from that week in California…well he’s in the pictures with the boys in some way. And there is no way I am deleting pictures of my boys.
When he came by to get his stuff a few weeks back…I’d made a cd of pictures for him, of him. I didn’t label it on purpose and to think of it…he probably hasn’t even looked at the cd. I don’t know…my friends have said that I was too nice in even doing that but…fuck it, I have never been one that was into tit-for-tat…I knew I had pictures that he didn’t have and not just of him but his niece and his cousin so I put them on the cd as well. I am pretty sure I put other random pics on there because I was trying to hurry, so selecting all to copy was easier than doing one at a time.
Well…the other day I was going through my cell and I realized I had pictures of him from the inaugural ball, sitting on my couch naked from when he came to my house one morning wearing nothing but a trench coat [lol], him laying on the bed at the Ritz-Carlton in Philly and other random shots…well, I emailed those to myself and then deleted them from my phone… I don’t know why I haven’t deleted them completely. I am sure that part of it is because of certain memories of places…but the other part is because I still haven’t completely gotten over the fact that I got played in the end. I could delete the pictures but it wouldn’t delete the memory so…I’d like to think that some, if not most, of those pictures that show him and I smiling…I’d like to think that it was real at that moment even if it was a lie as a whole.
Blah!
I know there will come a time that I will trash them but I have actually got a huge 2 year library of photos of him and I…
I could, at the very least…move all those pics into one single file and just hide it somewhere…ah…I don’t know. Fuck!
# posted by Blah Blah Blah : 9:27 AM
Sumptin To Say:
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Ugh. I hate when people ask me what am I mixed with. I usually tell them Jack Daniels.
The CD was nice of you. Not too nice I don't think; just coming from a place of finality and not bitterness. They don't have to be one and the same.
You'll delete when you are ready.
The CD was nice of you. Not too nice I don't think; just coming from a place of finality and not bitterness. They don't have to be one and the same.
You'll delete when you are ready.
What are you mixed with? Geez. People ask my son that same question. When he was little I told him to say "nothing".
Unfortunately, B&N is getting overrun in the ghetto lit dept too.
You are much better than me. Because I have been known to violently destroy every single picture. I don't want any reminders of how I was played. The mere sight of his fat face in a photograph made me want to hit somebody.
Yeah, I got major anger issues.
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Unfortunately, B&N is getting overrun in the ghetto lit dept too.
You are much better than me. Because I have been known to violently destroy every single picture. I don't want any reminders of how I was played. The mere sight of his fat face in a photograph made me want to hit somebody.
Yeah, I got major anger issues.
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