good to me in the nc

this time last week i was having a pretty fantastic vacation in north carolina. was fortunate to meet up with two chicas in the area…my good good friend from yesteryear…renown dream follower em and new fiery silly chica…who was more the navigator of all my good fortune. if i am telling it right, about this time i was at a high-end japanese dining establishment called mt. fuji in brightleaf. dining and sipping a plethora of drinks offered by some new found friends who treated me like family. a super cool little one (r) and a few others….even a pj harvey-esque aussie on her way to the nyc.

we all seemed to have a kinetic energy…one that had been lost on me for a minute. officially i tasted sake, a cherry bomb, sangria, champagne, plum wine, sushi and calamari. tasted, meaning one small sip for the most part…not typically a drinker of anything but an occasional glass of wine…i had a blast…tasting.

i am still high on the fumes of having had a whirlwind of fun. i even danced a bit at the club…which is a rarity for me…a tall geeky girl who feels stared at, goofy and shy while shaking it (even in my own mirror, sometimes) not this time though…maybe mtv/bet dance videos and rewinds on youtube are beneficial after all. DDR and ’save the last dance.’ janet’s ‘pleasure principle’ video…and daydreams.

i am actually quite astounded at the silliness, fun and overall love feast. i think i’ve been hugged on and cheek kissed more than i ever have in my life by a group of truly genuine folk. i can’t wait to do it again.

north carolina was good to me.
and i was good to it.

special thanks to the navigator…special special…special thanks for being soooo kewl.

raisin pumpernickel

by Marge Piercy

You shine, my love, like a sugar maple in October
Like a golden-orange overarching blaze of leaves,
each painted its own tint of flames
tossed on the ground bright as silk scarves.
So are you happy.

My curly one, my stubborn fierce butter,
down with the head and charge all horns
and the blattering thunk of bone head on bone,
the smoke and hot rubber stench of overheated temper.
So are you angry.

The tomcat is a ready lover. He can do it at dawn
when the birds are still yawning, he can do it
while the houseguest walks up the drive, do it after
four parties and an all-night dance, on a convenient floor.
So are you able.

Your love comes down rich as the warm spring rain.
Now it charges like a tawny dark maned lion.
Now it envelopes me in wraiths of silken mist.
Now it is a thick hot soup that sustains me.
So are you loving.

You’re an endless sink of love, a gaping maw
into which I shovel attention like a soft coal
into an old furnace; you’re a limitless love source,
a great underground spring surging of rock
to feed a river.

You cry your needs, bold as a six-week kitten.
You’re devious as a corporate takeover and direct
as an avalanche. What ten years into this conversation
commands my interest? You’re still the best novel
I’ve ever read.

Secretly we both think we are bred for each other
as part of an experiment in getting dreams made
flesh and then having to feed on the daily bread
of passion. So we die and die with loving
and go on living.

the beat may drop but not like all the others

i sorta got into it today with a work pal. it started when i spoke to her about my friend and his girl being turned away from a local bar here in columbus, ohio because he had on timberlands.

her theory was that bar owners have a right to turn back anyone because of dress. and i said something about the people in the bar wearing flip flops. her answer was that flip flops were okay…with long pants. my initial problem is that these rules are culturally bias. it’s okay to say that the owners don’t want jeans, or tennis shoes or hats. but to specifically say no timberlands but yes to flip flops. yes to ball caps but only ones with the bills curved and not flat. no chains. no baggy jeans. tank tops but no team jerseys. to me…that’s where i see a cultural bias. and the person i was talking to supported it because she believes that behavior fits the dress…assuming she means that people who wear baggy jeans, timberlands and flat bills act a certain way. bullsh*t!!! that’s racist.

so…our conversation evolved somehow onto kanye west. she can’t stand kanye because she says he whines and complains. she said he should make better records if he’s upset he doesn’t win an award. i don’t care what the hell kanye west complains about…my feeling is that kanye west has released such a magnificent artistic body of work that he can say and do whatever he wants. as long as he sounds good to me…i will continue to buy his albums. there are a few artists whose albums i’ll buy only because i know a new one is out…i don’t have to hear any cuts off of it…kanye is one…john mayer, another….lauryn hill, especially if she ever releases anything else. erykah badu…red hot chili peppers…john legend.

then she goes into saying that kanye should do something and stop complaining. help people and stop complaining. so i asked her if her dude, kenny chesney did anything. i told her that kanye has a charity, an outreach program. and i suggested we challenge each oher.

so here’s the challenge: we both had to pick and submit to each other a list of 5 artists/groups. her genre strictly country/top 40. my group hip hop/rap/r&b. we must research their charity work and submit it to each other by lunch tomorrow. the winner has to buy the other…a t-shirt. i’m thinking i could buy her a college dropout tee. ohhhh, we shall see.

 

office play

one morning as i sat down at my desk at work i see a box that says ‘forks and spoons’ on it alongside a tainted arsed looking container of freakin’ vanilla-chocolate yogurt. the expiration date is crazy old and inside the box are two spray painted christmas ornaments. this is my office play. a crazy work friend and i have had this fiasco going back and forth. the box is still in my overhead…and i’m waiting for the perfect opportunity.

the ornaments are medals our teams got for a winter olympics psuedo-office game our entire department played around the holidays. my team won…hence the gold…her team won second place…silver. so presently we find time during the day, sometimes week to make the medals appear in each other’s cube space…with the other finding it at some random moment in some random place. my best feat was slipping it into her coat pocket one friday, and she happened to discover it while out of the city at a game. her best was when our co-worker who smells sooooooooo good…everyday walked up to me wearing both medals. my second best was putting it in her lunch bag with a hideous picture of a movie monster she hates…so….yeah, one of the medals is chipped…she claims she dropped it on the kitchen floor of her home after seeing the picture…we named the monster a pharmaceutical drug name. her second best was beneath two jank smelling pieces of bread.

my next plan has to be big….so, i’m still thinking.

from december to now the game continues…and with this idea…the rest of my outsourcing days will be played out in utter mischief.

feel free to share you office play…and drop me an idea.

my neighbor’s crack

i like my neighbor. he’s a nice guy. talkative, friendly, has an obama sign in his yard. his kid is adorable and although i don’t see his wife much, she seems pretty cool. he cooks out when there’s snow on the ground which i think is diff. but alright. i can appreciate the whole grill smell thing during the winter. i’ve even pet his pet…lizard er something and i’m not a big fan on reptiles. and i let him explain to me what the thing eats and stuff. BUT i would venture to say that i’ve seen my neighbor’s butt crack more than any other butt crack ever. for some reason he likes to bend down outside and i end up catching the…tail end of things. right now i think it’s pretty funny and it’s hecka random. my neighbor’s crack. how would i describe? um, lesse, it’s … well, he’s a white dude…a tall white dude and his crack, not that i’ve seen many butt cracks in my life is rather normal and healthy looking. i’ve never gotten really close…but it does appear soft…the area surrounding…probably well moisturized and i think he’s athletic. so usually when i finally release something into the atmosphere the consistency of it sometimes flutters away…we shall see…not that i really mind…but we shall see…