'O8ama.

I am voting for Barack Obama, so do not try to convince me otherwise.  I'm sick of folks. Seriously, some people just want to talk.  The only valid argument that I've heard against him is the whole "race doesn't matter" chant (see Tavis Smiley, Cornell West), but even that's kinda...ehh...

Give me all the bullshit you want to feed me about why he can't be president, but you'll never convince me that Hillary is the better candidate.  Period.  Smarten up.  I'm probably the most feminist person that most of you know.  Ninety percent of the time, I'm going to be for the woman in most situations. I just think women are generally smarter.  But in this case, I wish the men of the world could experience one day as a woman in the work place and understand what that's like. Everyday is a fight as far as I'm concerned.  I don't even want to imagine going to work with the type of people that are drawn to politics as Hillary Clinton.  And while race is much bigger an issue, being larger and more complex, people are more sensitive to it. They tiptoe around it. They know it's wrong. Obama is living proof.

Purely based on what's been done so far, can you imagine Hillary as president? Don't tell me it's about "the issues" again, thanks.  They are virtually the same candidate, they're just trying to create more differences than there actually are so people can feel like they're making a choice. If she wins, all we will see in the media is crap inferring that she's a bitch, bullshit about Bill and shit that happened in the past. Somebody on ABC I think it was, asked her yesterday if she thought she'd be able to "control" her husband.  Wait, what? Have they ever asked that of any other possible-candidates spouses? I wonder?

And yea I get that Bill is such a highly public figure, so that changes things.  But does it really? Bill is going to do Bill, regardless--believe that.  And why shouldn't he?  That's why we love him. It's intriguing. And on top of that, he has that whole "I'm not even cute, but still dead sexy" thing going.  It's sooo distracting.  And when you think about it in terms of her candidacy and them both being two very strong-willed individuals.  It's like how does this really operate behind closed doors?  We know they're in cahoots together and that Bill has never been "out of control" like they portray him to be.  But you can't just take him out of the equation.  The question then becomes should we have to though?

That's a whole 'nother subject but the point is: nobody's gonna give a crap about her agenda. PLEASE, spare me.

I'm not saying it can't be done, but it will be a challenge.  One far more difficult than the one Obama would have ahead of him.  And besides that, he's just such an inspiration.  He makes people believe shit that most of us hadn't thought was even possible.  Imagine what type of power he could potentially have if all goes well.  Imagine the possibilities.

People are such scared little sheep. It never ceases to amaze me the depth of the campaigns that the media has actually used to convince a sizable amount of black people that Hillary is thinking about their black asses more than Obama is.  Girl bye.  I'm not voting for him JUST because he's black, but ask yourself are you NOT voting for him because he is? Sad!

I totally get the whole "I don't talk about politics or religion" thing that people say now, because I'm at a breaking point.  I can't cope.  I feel so totally repulsed by black people who help create arguments against Obama.  So I'm just not speaking on it anymore in conversation. I'll just berate all of you here and remain ignorant to those who actually agree with these amazingly well-concocted baseless arguments.

An LJ friend read my mind:

Dear Coloreds,

I was a hard nut to crack, but I imagine it was inevitable.

I quit black people.

It is over.

It was a tumultous love affair at best anyway and in my old age I am more enamored with a more sedate, satisfying love.

I got up this morning and heard Tom Joyner for the first time in about a year. His take on the debate? That Barack's got the black vote but he can't win the white vote with all that yelling he did last night.

Wait? I thought the problem was that he had too much of the white vote and needs to earn the black vote?

And then I hear their interview with Bill Clinton from a week or so go where they let him run their damn show and tell black America how we should think and vote. Not one of them asked him a substantive question. Not one of them opened their fucking mouths as he chastised the media for not attacking Obama's hopeful politics. Not one of them.

I get it. Bill has been good to them. He gave them unfettered access to his white house and so now he gets to call in his favors. Strange bedfellows this thing makes of niccas and media whores and political dynasties.

But you know what? I'm through. A guy called in to the show and gave them the what for I would have given them. he told them they'd drunk the first black president kool-aid and they are holding this black man to a different/higher standard simply because he is black.

Then there are self-proclaimed revolutionaries around here talking about how a black president actually sets back the cause of...what, exactly I'm not sure, but the logic being anything that can be construed as progress undermines some "movement". Cause, um, progress wouldn't be the aim of any "movement"? Or something like that.

If that's not self loathing and racism then i don't know what is.

You've broken my heart enough. A girl has to think self-preservation.

So niccas win. I'm through. Y'all win. You right. We ain't never going to have a black president - to prove yourselves right you better make sure it never happens.

Go ahead. I'ma practice my yoga and wait for the karma wheel to come rolling back around.

I just hope massa is as good to y'all as you seem to remember him being. It's a different world now. But, hey, as long as Bill plays the sax and Hillary can mist a white woman's tear--I'm sure that's all that matters.

No Love Lost,
T.
________

PS  If you go to http://pentdego.com/obama.aspx you can put anything on the poster above, except when you put anything pertaining to his race, it replaces it with "progress." So clever.

A half a million dollar car and some house shoes.

It must suck to have access to all of the most talented and fabulous designers in the world and still know that you'll just end up looking like the president in drag. It's like when you see people like the rapper chick in Keyshia Cole's Shoulda Let You Go video. Like wow, you're in full professional make up and you still look like you just got out of jail. It's crazy when you think about how crazy-looking they must actually be. How embarrassing.

1.Vera Wang 2. J. Mendel 3. Arnold Scaasi 4. Carlos Miele 5.Amsale 6. Carmen Marc Valvo 7. Angel Sanchez 8. Badgley Mischka 9. Nicole Miller 10. Lela Rose 11. Marc Bouwer 12. Oscar de la Renta

Anywho, getting married sounds so fun. Being married...not so much.

I gotta say I'd take any of these dresses.  Normally I would say that Vera Wang gowns are overrated, but #1 is fierce. #12 is also probably amazing if it wasn't so faint.  Oscar De La Renta dresses always make models look so feminine and slim...but still shapely.  I love that.  

I also love how the chick Oprah put on is right up there in line with all these well-established designers.  That's real networking for you. I needs me summa that.

PS June--this post is for you!  ;)                   

Oh hi Dr. Phil.

Why am I a grown ass woman in my pajamas, with one contact in, standing at my computer clapping, pumping my fist and screaming YES and THANK YOU every other minute? A frickin Kennedy? Comparing Obama to JFK?  I don't care if his head does look like it's about to snap off his neck, this is amazing.

Good morning y'all!!!
This is YOUR week!!!
And today could possibly be the best day of your life!

The possibilities are endless!

K, sorry.  Too much sugary coffee.

They call the meek you whose feet are on the ground.

I'm a recovering selfaholic.  I used to be amazingly, painfully, disgustingly selfish.  It didn't matter what it was--a bag of chips or homework I'd done or just general knowledge that you didn't have--if it was mine, you wasn't getting it sucka.  And if you had it and it was popular/cute believe I would have it tomorrow.  Essentially, I was a prick. And in my mind at that time, if you didn't like me you were stupid or jealous.  And while I still basically feel this way (I SAID BASIC), back then these were facts of life.  There was no grey area (now I can recognize when I've given people reason to not like me). I'm amazed that I had any friends. It used to floor me when people would do nice things for no reason.  I just didn't get it. It sounds so stupid, I know.  But that is the only way I know how to explain that truth. I think I just grossly wanted to outdo everybody.  I NEEDED to be one up on everyone at all times. It was exhausting.

And my poor first, real boyfriend. I was about to say bless his soul, but his soul is on its way to hell and I don't want to interfere with what fate has planned so, I'm going to keep it moving and say I'm just glad I can look back on those guys and appreciate how much some of them had to have liked me cuz I really did not give a fuck. I thought I did at the time, but I didn't. I didn't know how to put forth effort. I didn't know what it actually meant to care about someone else. I didn't know what my actions should entail. It was my world, you were just in it. No hard feelings, I'm sure.

Now that I know better, I try really hard to do better. One day some years ago, I sat down and said to myself, "Self, do you really care about the damn ice cream?  Who cares if Aura ate it all?  Seriously?  Are you fucking kidding me right now? Yea, it's inconsiderate, but you don't care. You really don't. You didn't even pay for it." I'm up here losing my fucking mind behind two scoops of ice cream. That let's you guys know just how big my problems were back then. If ONLY I knew then...

What I know now is that giving what you can without sacrificing yourself totally just might be the key to having a happy life. So it's really all selfish in the end, I guess.  When I put it that way. But still everyone's happy here.  This realization has changed my world more than I can ever explain while still keeping your attention.  

Now, I'm not saying I'm totally cured.  If you drink the last Coke, I will break your face.  But overall, I'll go with I'm at 95.5% recovery.  Ok 90%.  As with alcoholics, I guess I will always be recovering once I've been to the darkside. Sometimes I still hide a little food when I know my brother's coming around.  Sometimes I'll keep my eye contact straight when I see a homeless person. Every now and then I won't let someone over in traffic. Occasionally I'll catch myself lying about something small inadvertently. (NOTE: If it feels like I'm lying, act outraged about it and I'll immediately say I don't know why I just said that. Please, come, have the last bag of fruit snacks.) When I'm not thinking, I still default back sometimes, but I'm trying really hard. I'm almost there.

I don't care about anything--but in a good way.  I don't care about anything to the extent that I'm not about stop you from having what you want if I have anything to do with it. Especially if I ain't using it. Girl, here.  Of course I still have to be my main priority, but if it'll make you happier than it's made me--it's yours. You can have the clothes off my back. Just remind me that I'm not that into them and need to make room for some new crap-I'm-going-to-be-over-next-month anyway.

The wild thing is that now it's made me keenly aware of when people are like the old me.  It's much, much easier to be mean and not do anything extra for anybody.  I think it comes very natural to certain people,  but it's just plain immaturity. And while it's harder to be nice, it becomes second-nature once you realize how wrong you are.  That's the crazy part about it. You just have to think about it.  I don't think it's possible to ever really love anyone when you're that way. I'm generally genuinely ridiculously happy when fabulous things happen to other people. I can say that while it's definitely harder to be nice, especially not all the time, it pays off.  It all comes back.  Plus you can recognize that same niceness in other people and help each other out. It makes life wonderous. I'm free. Do the right thing people.  All that stuff we learned in kindergarten was the truth.  Honesty is the best policy...do unto others...don't take kindness for weakness...all that. Somebody genius tried to prepare us early in life and some of us listened and some of us thought we knew better.  Man in the mirror. Nothing but the truth.  It'll be all worth it if when I die at least ONE person would write something like this about moi:

One night, as I’m standing on LaSalle Street in Chicago, trying to line up a shot for “The Dark Knight,” a production assistant skateboards into my line of sight. Silently, I curse the moment that Heath first skated onto our set in full character makeup. I’d fretted about the reaction of Batman fans to a skateboarding Joker, but the actual result was a proliferation of skateboards among the younger crew members. If you’d asked those kids why they had chosen to bring their boards to work, they would have answered honestly that they didn’t know. That’s real charisma—as invisible and natural as gravity. That’s what Heath had.

Heath was bursting with creativity. It was in his every gesture. He once told me that he liked to wait between jobs until he was creatively hungry. Until he needed it again. He brought that attitude to our set every day. There aren’t many actors who can make you feel ashamed of how often you complain about doing the best job in the world. Heath was one of them.

One time he and another actor were shooting a complex scene. We had two days to shoot it, and at the end of the first day, they’d really found something and Heath was worried that he might not have it if we stopped. He wanted to carry on and finish. It’s tough to ask the crew to work late when we all know there’s plenty of time to finish the next day. But everyone seemed to understand that Heath had something special and that we had to capture it before it disappeared. Months later, I learned that as Heath left the set that night, he quietly thanked each crew member for working late. Quietly. Not trying to make a point, just grateful for the chance to create that they’d given him.

Those nights on the streets of Chicago were filled with stunts. These can be boring times for an actor, but Heath was fascinated, eagerly accepting our invitation to ride in the camera car as we chased vehicles through movie traffic—not just for the thrill ride, but to be a part of it. Of everything. He’d brought his laptop along in the car, and we had a high-speed screening of two of his works-in-progress: short films he’d made that were exciting and haunting. Their exuberance made me feel jaded and leaden. I’ve never felt as old as I did watching Heath explore his talents. That night I made him an offer—knowing he wouldn’t take me up on it—that he should feel free to come by the set when he had a night off so he could see what we were up to.

When you get into the edit suite after shooting a movie, you feel a responsibility to an actor who has trusted you, and Heath gave us everything. As we started my cut, I would wonder about each take we chose, each trim we made. I would visualize the screening where we’d have to show him the finished film—sitting three or four rows behind him, watching the movements of his head for clues to what he was thinking about what we’d done with all that he’d given us. Now that screening will never be real. I see him every day in my edit suite. I study his face, his voice. And I miss him terribly.

Back on LaSalle Street, I turn to my assistant director and I tell him to clear the skateboarding kid out of my line of sight when I realize—it’s Heath, woolly hat pulled low over his eyes, here on his night off to take me up on my offer. I can’t help but smile.

PS I don't get the video either.

Dance Party Friday!

I rewound this too many times. Queen Latifah owns everyone in the video.  Heidi Klum is also quite hysterical around 1:05. Happy Friday.  It's been a long, long, long, long week.  Need sleepy. I'm beat.

Is it odd to have a crush on someone after they're dead?

I think this video is one of the funniest things that I've ever seen. "I'm scaredddddd." He is horrified. It cracks me up every time. He saw pending death and scared the crap out of the "Hi Eeyore" kid.

Hoes don't wear coats.

I am thankful for Martin Luther King. I went to work today than instantly felt disappointed in myself, so I left. I didn't want to forsake the man, he helped make it possible for me to exist in the capacity that I do and be at work today. Who am I to disrespect the movement and all of the smart people that made today a legal holiday? Who do I look like? A Hillary supporter? I mean, we don't work on Christmas do we? I keed! I keed!

I read an interesting article on CNN about how the memory of MLK is being oversimplified and how it's important to remember that he was villified in his time, not hero-ed as he is today. Reading is fundamental.

That article put me in the spirit.  In light of that spirit, I'd like to announce that a mix of Whoopi Goldberg, Carol Alt, Oprah Winfrey, Ivanka Trump and Steve Jobs would be the ultimate person.

Bill could've used some of my spirit today.  Note him nodding off to the left side:

Not smart Bill!!! Hillary is going OFF when she gets home!

Next, I would like to bring the following people to justice:

The asshole squating on the left side of the above photo.  Why isn't this illegal? We are all going to hell.  She's fricking pregnant.  She's not dressed like a hoe, even though she doesn't have a coat on.  I'm comfortable with assuming it's pretty warm in LA.  All of these things seem to add up to a totally unwarranted intrusion.  I don't know what's more disgusting--that this happens or that if she hadn't been wearing any underwear that's all the media would care about. Where are we going with this?

Oh I know where!  Jamie Lynn Spears and Vanessa Hudgens should be arrested for being socially and personally irresponsible.   They need to be punished.  The babies are realizing that you can actually get pregnant if you're not married.  This means that they're thinking about sex. And ohmigod is that the chick from High School Musical's vag?

JUSTICE NOW!!!

I would also like for people who make statements like: "Some people say the way you vote in November will determine if you are more racist or more sexist," (Joy, The View) to be included in this group.  She said that shit all on MLK day.  If I was white, I'd call her unpatriotic.

I was additionally going to suggest that we bring Eve to justice for those nakee lesbian pictures that I just viewed, but Whoopi stopped me by reminding me that as women, we shouldn't look to tear each other down.  As women we stand by women who have made mistakes.  So that's what I'm doing.  I'm realllly fighting the urge to link to the pictures. Ohhh it's killing me...*humming an old feminist spiritual* ...(Google is your friend.) 

How embarassing.  I know folks are in the closet...but damn. Certain things just can't be unseen.  Eve fingering some chick, giving head to some chick in a threesome with all girls, getting head from a chick--ranks up there.  I hate how I'm desensitized to everything.  It upsets me that I recognize everything that is going on in those photos and am not cringing.

Sometimes I wish women were still outwardly (and inwardly, but mostly outwardly) naive.  I wish it wasn't popular to be a slut.  I wish it was cool to be classy.  And I wish that we had better fashion to define my generation--similar to that that existed in the 60s.  Especially for men.  I don't really think it's fair that I mostly have to go to church to see a guy in a suit on a regular basis.

MLK would not be pleased.  Sing sing celebrate.

This is how you pose.

I've been trying to teach myself Photoshop for a couple months now. It's a slow process. I need to just take a class. This is what I made today.  I LOLed.

It's too late to apologize. (Re: Bob Johnson). It's too late.

I won the lotto today.

Live for nothing or die for something.

I LURVE Britney Spears.  At any age.  18, 21, 25.  I don't care what you think.  She is thebomb.com! I say all this to say that the media are FUCKING CRAZY, son.

I don't even know where to begin.  I want to begin with the picture, but I don't want that crap on my blog, so here it goes:

NOT SAFE FOR WORK OR LIFE.

Britney Spears is "not pregnant" and the paps took a picture of her full, nasty bloody pad under her skirt as proof, then they actually put it online for everyone else to view.

The world is burning to the ground.  That is just too damn far.

WHO WEARS SHORT SKIRTS AND WHITE PANTIES WHEN THEY'RE HEAVILY ON THEIR PERIOD......???

I think this is also a fair question.  But enough is enough.  I could blame Britney here, but I don't.  I blame the paps.  Because they also take pictures like this:

This fuck actually took a picture underneath her skirt.

I'm not going to play her and waste everyone's time by pretending I think what's happening in that picture is insane.  I mean it definitely is gross, but it's more careless.  It happens (not since I've been grown, though.).  I have specific panties that I wear on the 2nd and 3rd day in case this happens stored way in the back of my drawer.  And then the rest of the days I'm wearing black ones just in case.

Beyond that, I feel terrible for her.  This is someone's MOTHER.  Can you imagine? Pictures of your mom out for everyone to see like this?  If this was anyone else we'd act like it was a mistake that we should have sympathy for them for.  I'm not excusing her behavior.  I'm just saying we've all been Britney Spears.  I've had a bad breakup and then went and overexaggerated the greatness of my life to prove to whoever (at the time, I was thinking it was him) that I'd moved on.  I've tried to make rebound boy into my husband. I've played the pretend-to-be-crazy to get my ex-boyfriend's attention card.  And really, if I had access to her facilities, I definitely would've went to a motherfucker's house with an umbrella for his ass.  Sue me, I make $700,000K + a month and I don't do shit.  YOU GON PAY.

Even when I wasn't having personal issues, I've been Britney Spears.  Three summers ago, Stef and I used to leave the house looking ridiculous running some "quick errand" all the time.  Stef would have her headwrap on, her grey scoop neck shirt (that really could be dressed up if paired with the right pants), the shortest yellow (or green...or pink...or whatever was left that I hadn't stolen) shorts that you've ever seen, ugg boots, a piece of tape stuck to her mouth--her license in her back pocket, carrying a cellphone, keys, a huge styrofoam cup full of her LaBamba uptownish-drink (that lasts her all day, she'll tell you) and a wallet in her hands.  Then I'd be right behind her with my drunken master bun, a tank top, sofies, a shoe with a heal on it and a big ass shiny purse.  We'd go throbbing down the street in her little ghetto Corolla with the black tint on the windows, rims on the tires, the thump in the trunk and way-cool-guy-looking lights looking absolutely crazy.

And don't let it be cold outside.  We'll wear a scarf as a shirt on your ass (or maybe that's just me...). Just for no reason. We will come out the woodwork with some outfits (I love us.). Just whatever is laying around. Doesn't matter whose it is (although it's most often Stef's ;)). Black leggings + brown boots + tank top + ...that's enough to form the point I'm trying to get across.

But don't get me wrong, if I was being stalked by the paparazzi, I'd get fly on their asses all the time.  But if they were following me like they follow her, there would definitely be times when they'd catch me slipping.  And then I'd just get annoyed and say to myself "girl bye, I am not bout to change my clothes and put on no makeup to go to no Starbucks," which is probably similar to how it all began.  She saw how much attention it got her--so she exaggerated it.

The media needs to lay off.  The chick has problems.  Do you know how messed up you have to be to have your kids taken away from you?  Nancy Grace said it best "you've got to be dressed in nothing but a thong and platform heals, lying on the courthouse steps shooting up heroine." Britney is on real drugs.  She is mentally ill. No one in their right mind would live their lives this way.  But she's not stupid.  I don't believe for a second that she's as dumb as they try to make her to be. This "Finalpixx" company that has show up out of no where with all these "exclusive" pics?  Yea.

The other day I saw some photographer yell "you're hot!" to her, and she responded something like "you're mean, because you're being sarcastic."  So because she's aware of what's happening, and still doesn't give a crap, everyone needs to see that they need to leave crazy to her own devices.  We don't need to see this.  We don't need to know that she uses a gas station bathroom everytime she leaves the house.  She will literally do anything to have ALL the attention.  Literally. Anything.  I couldn't believe that whole stand-off crap she pulled the night Obama won Iowa.  Coincidence?

That would be wild if it turned out Britney had it in with the government 50 years from now.

Because I feel this way, I know that I should stop giving it an audience.  But I can't help it.  I can't look away.  I don't know how to end this.  The end.

I'm down with the swirl.

Cannot stand Bob Johnson.  I came here to curse him out.  I had my assault all perfectly outlined in my head. And then I heard Rush Limbaugh, of all people, say:

"Rangel, Bob Johnson and other uppity Black leaders are trying to keep Obama down because he isn't a made man, not made by them that is."

And my argument is summed up in one sentence.

I am also blindly in love with John Mayer.  I wish that he would allow me to have his babies.  Every time I hear "Your Body is a Wonderland," I feel high.  It makes me weak in the knees.  I saw this on his blog today:

Dear Dallas and Surrounding Areas,

This isn't a sports blog, and it isn't a publicity stunt. (but have at me if it feels right.)

This is about doing what I think is right as a person, in this case speaking my mind.

I have never known anyone to have more pride in their home state and their upbringing in it than Jessica Simpson has in Texas. I don't really follow sports, but I have played some of my biggest and best concerts in your state, and having witnessed how dynamic the spirit there is, I'm betting emotions are running high right about now.

All witty barbs, blogs, and fashion policing aside, that girl loves Texas more than you know. It's one of her most defining traits as a person. So please don't try and take that away from her. (You probably wouldn't be able to, but it's less work for all involved.)

I just thought it would mean something coming from the guy who has the absolute least to gain from this. And if I'm out of line in having written it, too bad. I can spare a Wednesday's worth of bad press if it means sticking up for a good soul.

JM

So classy.  The last line, so perfect.  One of the sweetest things I've ever read.  It was titled "Don't ex with Texas," so clever.  Also filled with much win in making it apparent that he was the dumper in their little situation.  John Mayer, love me.

Women who seek to be equal to men lack ambition.

I really can't stand any of my ex-boys.  It's so odd to go back to any point in my life before now and imagine myself with some of those fools.  It's utter confusion in my head.  Crazy questions all swirling around at once.  Why was I ever with him? Why? Wait...really why?  I had nothing in common with any of them.  And that somehow makes me think that I didn't really know them at the time.  Or myself, really.  I was just being ridiculous.

Which is why I wish none of them would ever contact me.

Or die.  That could work too.

I keep getting trapped in these "nice guy" relationships. That shit is over. I don't like nice guys. I like guys that make fun of people in their heads with me and get my jokes. That I don't have to worry about coming off mean around. I don't know how it was that I kept getting into that same space repeatedly.  Such a bizarre occurrence.  I guess I just kept missing the point.  Or maybe I've just changed that much.  Anyway.

Speaking of completely disconnecting certain thoughts from my head and going the total opposite direction, I'm really wanting to abandon my blog.  I don't know.  But I took Makia's (there ya go boo!) Facebook message today as a sign that I should keep going.  I feel like I need something extra here.  I feel boring.  Stef says I need a theme.  I don't know what I think right now.

Sometimes I work really hard to get certain things, then decide I don't like it.  It's like I like the work or something. But we know that can't be right.  I guess I just like to win.  Then once that happens, I like to go win at something else.  It's crazy really.

Also speaking of crazy, tomorrow's my first day waking up for a 9-5 in over a year.  The vacation is over.  Let me get in the bed.

Gmail funny quote of the day. YES.

Are we all people of color, just trapped in skin tones?

So, I'm sitting here looking like this.  Yes, yes.  I'm thinking about how much I don't want to start work next week.

I honestly, plainly, simply and accutately cannot stand working. Cannot STAND. I think I'd rather drown than work for some more years regularly. For awhile, I've tried to convince myself that its certain things about working that I don't like. But now I'm coming to terms with the fact that I just do not like it. Everything about it. People say, na you just don't like working for other people. No, I actually just don't like working. Period. And I know this now because I've been in nearly every position at jobs at this point. I've had a shitty boss. I've had a demanding boss. I've had no boss. I've set my own schedule. I've worked a 9-5. I've worked at 4-12. I've actually enjoyed the job that I do.  But it's STILL a hassle. I mean, what else is there? I just don't be feeling that shit.

Maybe if I was rich I'd feel better about it.
This is unlikely.
But I'm about to test it out. (:)!!!)

Sometimes I have these amazingly perfect days.  Today was one of them.  The last one I had was back in May. I seriously had it all for like a day. New job. New house. Same great friends. Family was doin fine. And I actually had a crush on somebody (which never ever happens).

I can't figure out how to wrap this up. I'm very much missing somebody right now out of no where. I feel embarassed even though no one else knows. And I think I'm putting it into the universe because he keeps finding his way into convos that I have with other people. It's the strangest thing. It's odd. Now that I've typed that, I'm going to put myself back into denial.

I suppose I have a really loose
interpretation of "work," because I
think that just being alive is so much
work at something you don't
always want to do.
- Andy Warhol

What you TOLERATE you PROMOTE.

"I have to remind myself sometimes that people are really mentally ill."

Rita said this to me today and truer words were never spoken. What a great way to look at fucked up people.  I mean, it's true.  You can't get mad at a retarded person for being retarded.  It explains how crazy people really believe what they're saying and doing. It's genius.  It keeps you in the light. I'm using it henceforth.  That's my entry for the day.

This blog thing is becoming like work.  :(

When worst comes to worst my people come first.

I don't understand a black person who doesn't intend to vote for Barack Obama.

It's wrong on so many levels.  It really irks me.

The president is nobody.  He's just a place holder essentially. And even if he wasn't, the next president will have to fix a problem that will take longer than his/her presidency to sort out. So even if the person elected does everything that they can possibly do, there is only so much that they can change within that span of time. And let's be real, all three Democrats will pretty much do the exact same thing more or less.

Then there's the "he's inexperienced" argument.  It really surprises me when young people of all people say this. Anyone with half a brain that has been trying to get ahead in the workforce knows better.  Think of all the old stupid people running shit real old school right now.  Not hiring young people who know better because we've grown up with certain things that they didn't.  We've had better education.  The average smart person can master any job, I don't care on what level we're talking.  Any experience is enough experience.  Any candidate will have enough people in his corner to stop him from making an "inexperienced" decision.   Sometimes inexperienced is just what these old folks need to bring a fresh perspective to things to make them better.  And did Bush have this so-called experience?  Because...

Yea. And when exactly will we ever get this opportunity ever again in life?  Why even test that out?  Come on.  There's too many variables that would prevent this from ever happening again.  Petty variables.  For one, we all know that if Obama was dark-skinned, he wouldn't have a chance in hell.  Why put off 'til tomorrow what you can do today?  Do you seriously believe that if the situation was reversed that white people would not vote for the sole white candidate?  Please, that would be a no brainer.  He wouldn't even campaign.  White people would come out in droves.

Most importantly though, this isn't about race.  Everyone who knows me knows that I am the #1 person that hopes everyday that someday people will see people as just people because that's all everyone is.  We should really be separated into groups of crazy and more crazy.  But people just make it about that for the obvious reasons that I just mentioned.  Him being black is just the icing on the cake.  He's capable.  He's inspiring.  His wife is fierce (as I am of the belief system that a man shows his intelligence in his choice of woman).  I mean, when you see Obama on TV, it's not like it was when Jesse Jackson was running.  You don't get the feeling that this is a "black thing".  He's just like any other candidate.  He actually has a fighting chance of winning.   And you're gonna stop another black person from becoming president?  Are you fucking kidding me? You're gonna help create another barrier for your future children to have to knock down?  People act like it's about the issues, but at the end of the day, NONE of these people give a crap about us. It's about them. So why not at the VERY least elect a symbolic figure?

This is a movement. This is progress.  Or at least the appearance of progress.  And even that's enough for me.  This is giving your future babies inspiration that they are actually American, and not some second-rate ass citizen.  This is a dream actualized for old black people everywhere.  People died for this to even begin to be possible.  Call me dramatic, but not voting for him is like saying ef the Civil Rights Movement.  I'm tired of people saying "I'm not voting for him just because he's black, that's stupid." Only in a world where racism doesn't exist is that argument acceptable.   And we're not there yet. We owe it to ourselves.  ALL of ourselves. Black, white, asian, latino, everyone!

After re-reading everything I just wrote, I realize that my entire argument seems very basic and elementary.  But I really don't think people are thinking of it in its most basic form.  Come on black people.  We gotta do better.  If we don't do for ourselves, who will?

All I want to do is shoot you and take your money.

                                

That video absolutely made my day today. 

I've been trying to update this thing for like 16 years now and it's just not coming to me.  I spent the day cleaning like somebody I didn't know was coming over.  Then  I watched the Great Debaters (great movie!) and went a little more crazy about having to go into work again next week.  I guess I feel like I've sold myself out.  But I need the money--mainly to finish renovating my house.  And for vacations.  Mmm...I'd like to get my car detailed as well.  And update my winter clothing, get some of my work framed, buy more furniture. And shoes. Camera lenses...

...yea. I guess I need to be realistic.  But it still feels wrong.

Sometimes I just really wish I could get shipwrecked on some random island Blue Lagoon-style.  Just me, my tanned-ass man, some leaves and some fire.  Laying in the sun all day, keeping my skin a rich brown.  Hair all over the place. Getting crazzzzyyyyyyyy elevated.  As in engaging in deep conversation, of course (wink).  Wonderful weather. The only goal here is to stay alive. Supreme relaxation.  

Except when it would come to having to catch whatever I was going to eat--that would be a huge headache.  Lord knows I'm not eating nothing that just came out the bushes.  I get horrified when I'm eating chicken and the bone is broken.  I'm to the point where I don't even separate the wing from the leg. I can't even put my mind in that space. 

I'm also definitely the person who (back when I used to eat them) would use a measuring cup to measure exactly 2 cups of water to put in the ramen noodles.  Okay.  So it wouldn't be no..."let me just throw something together right quick"...no. When it comes to I don't know...catching a fish and then grilling it over the fire...yea, that's a stretch.  I'd probably die of starvation trying to live on coconut water.  I'd last a solid week. So maybe that wasn't exactly how it plays over in my head.  That'd be a helluva week though.  But you get my drift.

In 2008, there's just so much that needs to be tried before I get a certain age.  It's an everyday race.  It's like I don't want to be old having kids.  But I also, don't want kids right now.  I want to have my own money before I get married, but if I do that I'll once again be old and having kids.  I want to have a family, but I don't want to procreate with these nutty fools.  I want to still have fun and relax the whole time.  I want to travel everywhere.  I have to meet the right people.  I have to keep growing and learning.  For some reason, I always want to have the freedom to up and move away at any given moment.  I wanna do what I want, but then I want to have a man.  I don't want to get stuck in any one place for too long with a whole lot of nothing happening.  Then your friends got problems too, so you can't really bother them with all this crap.  Then they need your help too.  On top of that, I have to brainstorm something crazy on how I'm actually going to get the money in the first place.  And you just know if you get past those obstacles, your family is gonna come outta no where with some wild drama that you just really want to pretend isn't happening.  It's too much.  People are crazy, son. The task is too daunting!!!  JOB OVERLOAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And y'all already KNOW what time it is when it comes to me working in the first place.  Strong aversion.  There's no happy middle here.  I have to go hard or not go at all.

This is how people become certifiable.  Too many jobs.

So...I say all this to say...I really don't know how I'm going to do it all and maintain a 9-5.  It's going to be a pure act of God.

Another qualude and he'll love me in the morning.

I enjoy going out with my friend Nick so much.  It's always, always a good time.  He's opened my eyes to a lot of shit. Case in point, the photo above.  Now, this person "performed" at a gay bar.  If I'm a gay male...what do I want with someone who has boobs?  Of course when he stood up his balls were cold chilling under that skirt.  Stef said she thinks stuff like this is for the straight people that attend these places, but I think we were definitely in the minority there. So, I don't get it at all.  I'd ask Nick, but I don't want to come off annoying.  I'm intrigued.  I think it might be similar to asking black people if we are capable of tanning. Which isn't a totally inappropriate question, but for me is like wondering if I get wet when I get in the shower. Why wouldn't I?

But everyone likes boobs, right?  So maybe it's the same deal.

That guy's hair on the right is so disgusting.  Eck.

Life is so much better with interesting friends that are a lot different from me, but aren't.  If that makes any sense.

Along those same lines, Keith loves me like he should.  If I was in Cali right now, what wouldn't I do?  A few things actually, but I will work on putting a fresh pair of socks in the mail. ;) It's all because of youuu. He assisted in getting my domain name today so I can feel like I have a proper blog. Now it's CeeGeeLee.com! Yay me! I'm way too excited right now. Diwajdioajiawdiwrrfjwflawd!!! Ooo yea.

PSA #1

I love when I network with the right people.  Got hired for a job I didn't even apply for today. And to that I say:

They said this day would never come (Obama, FTW).

I love the way having a Christmas tree around makes my house feel.  Rita and I took mine down today and it made me sad, so I took this picture of my favorite ornament that my mom made out of this door decoration that I had.  It turned out pretty cool.  If you'll notice, you can see me in it.  And Rita too over there.  That was probably right about the time that she belittled my sad feelings and said "girl bye, thats life, seasons change," and I realized and agreed that I needed to move on and now I have.

Lately I've been thinking maybe I want to try being a screen writer.  I'm going to loosely write a Curb-Your-Enthusiasm improvised type script and try it out as a youtube video.  A lot will depend upon who I can get to help me do it.  But that'd be so fun if I could do something really smart in that area.  I feel like one of my callings in life is to remind the world that black people are regular people too. The media has taken stereotypes of us to a whole other level. Especially for black women.  They are dragging us through the mud.  All of those VH1 shows burn me up. Seriously.  There's a large amount of white people (and asians, hispanics, etc.) that have never ever met a black person in life. They see that on TV and think that's what we are.  

And don't EVEN get me started on this whole non-coverage of the members of B2K being ANALLY RAPED by someone else in the public eye?  Girl, please.  Black people everywhere should be very concerned.  A member of 98 degrees comes out and says their Lou Pearlman was doing them up the booty at the age of 11 and there's no story there? Come on.  They're camping out in Nick Lachey's front yard straightaway.  AND his parent's house.  Early. Dateline should've been on this like white on rice (© my mom).  Are we catching predators only if they fit into the context of their hilarious show?  Britney Spears *almost* falls and its all over CNN, you know? That's just blatant. What more needed to happen here in order to get coverage? Now I have to go to gossip blogs to be updated on shit that mainstream media outlets don't cover (even though a part of me wants to say that that's pretty fricking cool)? Hello? Is this thing on???

(steps down off my soapbox for the evening) So definitely.  If I could do something to curb even the tiniest bit of all of this, it'd be superhuge.  I'm going to see if I can finagle being that type of writer.  That'd be dope if it just randomly came naturally to me.  I'm gonna play around and do a lot of risky random shit this year.  Hope over fear.  Something is going to work.

Is this the wrong way to think?

I really don't like to work.  Well, let me rephrase, I don't like going into work.  It's a hassle and a waste of time for me and moreover totally unfun.  So I've opted to stop doing it.  The whole idea is so outdated.  All of the 9-5 jobs that I've ever had did not necessitate 8-hour workdays. They'd wear me out all day, then I'd come home and not even feel like thinking.  I need to have time to think. Yes, I know this is stereotypical 24-year-old talk, but whatever you want to say. I am not having that shit.

I used to spend an inordinate amount of time complaining to people about how much I hated my cube jobs to basically help them convince me into living my life how I want.  But now, I really don't care, so I just keep it real.  People say all the time, "girl, you need a REAL job!" Do I?  Or should I say did I? Now I just say "I can't get with that shit."  And leave it at that.

So now, I work really hard for short periods of time, then quit everything and relax for as long as possible (i.e. until I'm poor again).  Right now, I'm on one of my hiatuses.  I quit my last full time job back in October and have just been working on my photography, waiting on some inspiration and trying to get into a healthy writing schedule.

I am loving how it's all coming together.  I have a need to control most things, so this is great. Like, tomorrow is Thursday.  And because I hate Thursdays, I'm just going to decide that it's Saturday and act accordingly.  It's really kind of stupid though because then Friday sort of turns into Sunday and that would be like I work on Sunday, which I hate, since I work on Fridays.  I'm also fixing to make all Mondays an extension of Sunday for the rest of this year too. Umhm! 

Just trying to keep it simple.  My goals are to afford everything I want and live life on my own schedule.  Writing and journalism just happens to be my forte so I'm going with that because it takes less effort in the skills-I-need-too-learn department.  It's more about cultivating what I got.  I know for sure that I was not put here just to work and pay taxes, so I just focus on what works for me and not what I "should" be doing.  

I do what I feel like doing.  I have a good time...sipping pretty drinks and wearing awesome sunglasses and shoes.  These things make me happy. You might call it shallow, I call it simple.  I don't stress myself out in that category anymore.  I'm easily pleased these days. If it happens, it happens.  If it doesn't, I'll be great in some other walk of life.

Ok this is getting too personal and taking the fun out of everything. That's enough background check for forever. Tomorrow, we stay in the light and in the present.  Must say goodbye, Jeopardy! is starting and I usually own the entire first round. Smoochies.

Here I am to save the day.

I like to write.  So, I had a blog over on MySpace, but I really wasn't into it.  Anything about it.  The type-face, the font, it not working properly on my Mac, all the free advertising I'm giving with it, etc.  I need options, man.  Even if I opt to not use any of them.  I understand and like the community and all, but I guess I've always felt that if I was to put my feelings up for everyone to see, it should be on an ad-free site.  Rupart Murdoch = rich enough.  I could go on.  I've alleviated some of those problems by moving to blogger, but ginalee.com has still not come to fruition.  So until I'm there, I'll be here. 

I'm intending to keep this blog up until the day I die.  It'll be cool to document everything and be able to pinpoint "when it all began" so to speak.  Because...I'm about to do some huge things.  I have a lot of ideas for this particular thing, but we'll see how it goes.  Videos--a pic a day would be cool.  I want to update this daily, but I also don't want to commit to anything too daunting.  We'll see.  I'm going to attempt it. This site allows for a lot.  I'm pretty impressed.  

Had a cool New Years. Stef is down from DC.  She decorated my house to keep us "in the spirit" for as long as possible.   Peep the cool living room chandelier type thing. Yeeeeaaaa. You HATE that shit (© Amp).  It looks fantastic. For this reason, we are rehaving New Years tonight. Starting now.