It’s Like Hazy Days, Man

So I haven’t really been posting much, mainly because I’ve been working. And I’m trying not to blog about work for a few reasons. One, because I really like  my job and I have this nagging feeling that someone from work might stumble across it and read something a little too interesting for my liking. Not interesting as in I outright hate anyone at my job, there are a few people I’m not crazy about and would love to make fun of, but then there’s also one person I feel the exact opposite about but I would be in so much shit if anyone found that out. So I’m keeping my lips sealed. With a capital ‘S’.

I was seriously going stir-crazy cooped up in my house for so long, so yesterday I got paid and finally went out with a friend. There was so much beautiful weather yesterday we ate out on the patio at Jack Astor’s. The waiter was cute and kind of inveigled us to order something alcoholic, so we got these fruity martini’s. When I showed my ID he totally said, ‘beautiful!’ but I’m not sure he meant it as ‘beautiful’ as in great or ‘beautiful’ as in an adjective for my face because I would be tipping him later on. By the time I was done my drink I was kind of mellow and chose to believe the latter.  I bet that bitch could smell lonliness.

Then we went and saw ‘The Hangover’ which was funny and not too much of a guy gross-out fest. So let’s just say I didn’t have high expectations for it, so it met them. When I got in, I realised the house door had been left unlocked and my entire family was fast asleep inside. I considered waking my parents up and giving them a lecture on safety, but then I rethought that. Afterall, who could possibly get them? The cows? The newly growing corn?

I honestly wish I didn’t live in the ass-end of nowhere and didn’t have to drive to go out and have a good time. I swear, when I move out, it’s going to be to an area where I don’t have to drive to get my groceries. No matter what kind of shoe box I have to live in.

I’ve been looking for a second summer job, but to no avail. I have about two months left in my summer so I’m wondering, honestly, what kind of chance I have. Though I’m not too freaked out about where I’m going to get money during school – because the fall/winter season at the theatre is going to be busy. So if I juggle that just right with school I can survive. Maybe do a little better that survive if I’m smarter than last year.

So we’ll see. For now I leave you with the perfect summer song:

Parle à ma main

Ta position favorite?

Talk to the hand.

Doppelgangers everywhere.

These videos make my life.

The Amusing Aspects of Being A Black Girl

There are many, but I have narrowed down a few important ones, in no particular order. Because some are just equally amusing.

1. The Other black girl: This never fails to happen when I’m in a situation or class with only a few other black people, so you’d think this wouldn’t happen. It’s so hilarious the way it absolutely never fails. I can always expect that eventually I will be called by the Other black girl’s name. Despite the fact that she’s 5′9, has curly hair, no glasses, and a more sophisticated wardrobe. Basically as opposite from me as you can get. Except we both have dark skin. So amusing. I usually correct them and act like it never happened. But I totally get that it can be difficult sometimes, that you have to squint real hard to be able to tell us from the rest of our minority group because we all have dark hair and eyes and sometimes skin, so you’d have to actually hang around us or care about us to be able to discern that we all have unique facial features and body types.

2. Terms of endearment: There have been times, in speaking to me when people often feel the need, no the compulsion to do this little amusing thing. It’s like they see it on TV and they HAVE TO TRY IT OUT. It’s like they can’t help themselves. Calling me ’sister’, ‘girlfriend’ or ‘guurrl’. It’s funny the first few times or in jest if I know you, but if I’ve been talking to you for all of ten minutes or we’ve just been introduced or you do it every time I see you it becomes super amusing.

3. Baby Drama: This is one of the ones I find totally amusing. It’s when people think it’s cool to make baby mama jokes about me! At the most appropriate times! After I’ve talked to a boy, ‘ooh, is this your baby daddy?’ ‘um, meet my project partner’. ‘20? shouldn’t you have been pregnant by now?’ ‘totally, right after I hop on that welfare application’. SO AMUSING.

4. Culturally related questions: Here are some highly intelligent queries that always bring me amusement, ‘Have you ever been in a gang?’ or ‘Have you ever seen a drive by?’. Usually after they find out I’m Jamaican, ‘Have you ever smoked weed?’ Sorry, but the answer is no to all. Another intelligent question, ‘why do black people have their own history month?’ Since you asked, in a nutshell, blacks were the largest displacement of a people in history, and with such a large displacement of people guess what else is lost? Thousands of years of tradition, culture, and oh yeah history! The past 83 years of black history months have been to compensate for that. In a nutshell.

5. All the Consideration for my feelings: You know what question I really get amused when people ask? ‘Why are you so angry?’ or ‘why are black women so angry?’ Silly you! I’m not angry. Why would I be angry? Afterall, it’s a question you already know the answer to. Really, after I open my mouth to answer, you never fail to cut me off because you never actually wanted to hear my point of view you just wanted to lecture me on YOUR opinions on how we black women need to smile more and fix our attitude. I’m not angry, I smile politely, nod my head and listen to you because I am amused. By your punk ass questions and opinions. So much so that I want you to just bend over and fuck yourself. See? Amused.