Monday, June 06, 2005

Tidbits of Me...100 Times Over

My reading style is crackish. As I traverse the world of bloggers on the web, my eyes flit over entries, and stop only when I say catch words that make me giggle (I won't tell you what those are, because I don't want you to start lacing your posts with these words just so I can stop and read 'em.) But I keep seeing this annoying, little informative list err'ywhere. So I'm fi'n to try my hand at it.

100. I'm fickle as hell.
99. I have a deep-seeded compulsion: I buy things in 2's. Or multiple's of 2.
98. I don't hear so good in my right ear. Not quite deaf, but not so good.
97. I'm relationally ambivalent. Meaning...any of them niggas will do.
96. I'm so over love.
95. I'm so over extreme acts of emotion on any level.
94. I'm so over wedding pageantry. What a waste of money. "I had a big wedding!" Yeah. But you moved into an apartment with your new husband a week later. *blank stare*
93. My biological clock is busted. Cuz I could give a fat baby's BM ball if I get married or have a kid.
92. Ironically, I'm incredibly domestic. I make a great wifey.
91. I wish I could have a husband and a boyfriend. At the same time.
90. There's the ambivalence. See?
89. If you're lucky, you'll get turned out -- sexually -- at least once in your life.
88. I've been turned out twice.
87. I still crave each one of them.
86. They both could hit it. Extensively. Without a break. For weeks. Months, even.
85. They both are married now.
84. My loins flip the bird at my morals. Daily.
83. Let that be the reason why I can have no contact with either of them.
82. I've had an affair with a married man before.
81. The experience taught me to "Never say never."
80. The thing that you say you will never do, is the thing that is most likely to present itself as an opportunity to do.
79. I'm lactose intolerant. Like a muthafucka.
78. I talk on the phone while I'm sitting on the toilet.
77. Yup, when I'm making a dump too.
76. I don't have alot of hang-ups.
75. I don't trip about things that happen naturally.
74. I do faint when I see blood though.
73. Not my own though.
72. I wish I was 10 years younger.
71. That way I could have relations with some more men that I meant to screw along the way.
70. I'm obsessed with big.male.hands.
69. No, not long, spindly fingers, can palm a basketball hands.
68. Big.thick.juicy.fingers. that look like the nigga is holding a 5-pack of polska kielbasa.
67. I get butterflies in my stomach when I see a man with big.juicy.thick.fingers.
66. I can't stop looking at them.
65. Size matters to me.
64. I realize right now...LOL...that I have quite a few obsessions with men.
63. I love hairy, bowlegged, thick-thighed, big.juicy.fingered kneegrows.
62. I love to kiss a man with a beard.
61. I love to kiss, period.
60. I'm probably one of very few women that can detach completely. Sexually.
59. I like to sleep alone.
58. I've been detached to the point where I lose interest in the middle of sex, and start imagining the big.juicy.fingered kneegrow from the record store, blowing 'Round Midnight on my instrument.
57. *hee hee*
56. I feel the lack of a motherly influence growing up.
55. I'on never know what's liable to come out my mouth.
54. I still like to watch fights.
53. Yeah, I like prizefights. But I mean...street fights. LOL
52. If I get a taste for something, I can eat it everyday, 3 times a day for weeks.
51. I have the sense of smell of a dog.
50. Well, actually, I don't. But you'd be amazed at how accurately I can decipher smells.
49. ...and tastes for that matter.
48. I'm a Taurean, and we have heightened senses, when we are in tune with them. 47. Far more than any other Zodiac sign.
46. I love skin.
45. Because of this inordinate "like" for skin, I'm jive obsessed with my skin. LOL
44. I have enough soap, lotion, and smell-good to clean, moisturize and perfume Maryland's collective ass.
43. There are worse things I can be into. *hee hee*
42. I really don't care what other people think of me.
41. I mean, really don't.
40. People are drawn to me for some odd reason.
39. At any given time, I have more friends in my social circle than I can manage equally.
38. My inner sanctum remains finite.
37. I don't have a best friend -- just a caliber level of friendship that one reaches upon gaining my admiration, respect, trust, and in most cases...awe.
36. I'm enamored -- platonically and asexually -- with my best friends, I'd say, on some level.
35. Or at least with that one particular trait, upon which the bulk of their value rests upon (to me). That one thing...that complements me perfectly.
34. Each one of them has it.
33. I've wished death on one person, and he died.
32. I remain unrepentant about it.
31. I'm re-teaching myself to like the heat.
30. Because I categorically do not like the heat.
29. Black people should like heat though, right? LOL
28. I could watch Forensic Files and the First 48 consecutively. One after the other. Forever more.
27. I'm struggling here.
26. I don't know how to swim.
25. I don't believe that smoking is a dealbreaker.
24. I have never been left because I "smoked." LOL
23. People are such liars.
22. I never could understand why people couldn't dislike something without trying to impose that dislike upon the expectations and behaviors of their loved ones.
21. So don't like cigarette smoke. And I smoke. Don't be around me when I'm smoking then. Duh. LOL
20. That didn't even fit.

...ugh. I ran into a mental pothole, and I'm tired of looking at this list, so I'ma post it...incomplete. I'll finish it later when I have something more to say about myself.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Tu che di gel sei ginta

Tu che di gel sei ginta (Sung by unknown soprano)

Tu che di gel sei cinta,
Da tanta fiamma vinta,
L'amerai anche tu!
Prima di questa aurora,
Io chiudo stanca gli occhi,
Perche egli vinca ancora
Ei vinca ancora
Per non vederlo piu!

Leontyne's role as Liu, in Puccini's Turandot, leaves me lifted, swept off, and out of breath. Her voice holds me and battles my attention, as not to let me go without a fight. I am consumed by her voice when listening to of my favorite pieces.

Without going too deep, Liu sings passionately to the Princess Turandot, known for her icy demeanor and untouchable status, that soon that facade will fade, and she (Princess Turandot) will have the same love that Liu (a slave girl) has for the Unknown Prince, who she loves but sacrifices her life for. So pure is Liu's love for the Prince, that she knowingly entreats Princess Turandot to love.

*starry eyed*

And I'm listening to it now, knowing damn well that I have other things to do, and yet...I can't stop hitting repeat. much for sharing.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Concert Etiquette

Anybody that knows me knows that me and Lady Tee *crossing my fingers* go back like that! I was with her back when she was a need-a-perm, beach chick singing "I Can't Love Anymore" like her daddy was a sharecropper. I LOVES her, in all of her honorary blackness. And I'm not the type that will claim white folks to blackness...because quiet as it's kept, I'm cerulean blue or some other color other than black everytime one of these modern-day coons do something that makes my ass itch and sneeze. Ever hear an ass sneeze?

*pause* Wait...I'm rambling.

Anyway...I love Lady Tee and her music. So I decided to take Fido (that's my squeeze-ums) to go check her out at Pier Six at the Inner Harbor. 45 minutes into the show, YOUR cousins (yes, your cousins) commence to start acting a fool.

Girl in the Back: Could you stop moving your head? I paid good money for this seat, and I can't even see the damn show.
Man in the Front: Fuck I gotta do wit' dat? Move so you can see!
Girl in the Back: No you, move, muthafucka, you been movin' your head all night. I can't see.
Man in the Front's Girl: Next time, get some better damn seats if you wanna see so bad...BITCH!

Oh, I'm fit to be tied, but I'm all up in it like a knife in hot butter. Fido isn't paying attention, but I have no doubts, if these fools start shoo'in, when I look over my shoulder on Pratt (which is what direction I'm fi'n to run), he'll be running next to me, stride for stride.

At any rate, B-mo' po po deaded that argument after about 10 minutes. Not that these Eastside chickenheads and roosters gave a fat baby's BM ball about Officer Friendly. They could care less about getting thrown into jail...I overheard one of them saying they didn't want to miss Teena singing, "Casa-noba Brown."

Uh. Yeah. *gulp* Your people. Uh huh.