Relationships

Obsessed: Rather Be

You know how there’s a song that you randomly hear and like?  But you go to look for it and can’t find it?

That was Rather Be for a long time for me.  But thanks to YouTube, I’m now listening to it on repeat forever and ever.  It’s a problem.

yasstwirl

 

This was literally me all weekend.

ALL DAMN WEEKEND!

This dumb song is everything and I can’t even explain it. Like I want to give you musical analysis, how it pulls live classical instruments over a dance beat, how the early 90’s influence is so strong (a la Crystal Waters & Black Box), how the harmonies are super super tight, how the ab libs are soft but effective.

That last swell into the final chorus???

getit

But really, the song just embodies happiness right now.  Or my version of it. As weird as it sounds, I’m strangely in a good place. Are things perfect?

um no

But this song embodies my version of happiness and real love. Where shit can go wrong but you know just being with that one person will fix your mood immediately. It pleases me to think that I’ll be in that place at some point in my life. (Speaking it into existence, y’all!)

Either way, I’m going to be snatching your faves wigs with my karaoke rendition of this song with some patented Countess step-touch choreography.

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Bloggity Blog Blog

Hey y’all!!!

dusting

It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

Needless to say, the final weeks of 2014 were a bust in several ways.  There were things to discuss, but nothing was positive and our drafts listing is filled with half-written posts.  But it’s a new year and I’ve decided to dive back in as a manner of expressing myself again. So let’s talk.

What’s Yo (Relationship) Status at the Bank?
Guess who happens to still be single in the most vivid way imaginable?

thisguy

Over the course of the holidays, it was almost as if everything I did involved hanging with couples, listening to the drama between couples, or getting advice on how to end up in a couple.  It was harsh to say the least.

Even worse, I realized that my type is still relatively elusive.  While Class may try to act like my requirements for dating are obscure, they are actually not that bad.  But the two requirements that are most important to me seem to be the hardest to find.  Internally motivated and an interesting conversationalist seem to be rarities these days.  Lacking in these areas render even the most superficially attractive specimen useless in my world.

But the largest obstacle standing in my way is my reluctance to put myself out there.  For many years, it was fear of rejection that held me back.  That I was too big or not attractive enough to be worth anyone’s attention.  As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that I’m okay looking.  I’m relatively funny.  I’ve got some things going for me.  Also, I’m Important.

popit

Seriously though, I’ve exhausted my desire to go out.  I’m tired of checking apps and dating sites.  I’m just in this place where I’d rather not be bothered.  That attitude doesn’t fix the situation, but it is where I’m at these days.  We’ll see what changes this year.

On Blackness
This blog isn’t even a year old and we have a full archive on Race Issues.

But it seems 2014 was the year where racists just said “Fuck It” and went hard in the paint to make America miserable unsafe for Black people. I remember back when President Obama was elected, there was a mixed feeling of elation and fear.  One of the biggest lessons I’d learned was that when white people feel a loss of perceived power, they lash out.  No matter what.  Whether it’s getting angry and upset with harsh words and attempts to ruin the victor’s credibility or attempting to utilize the one perceived slight as an example of how hard they have it, it is going to happen.  The only other reaction I’ve ever seen is the defense “I’m not racist, I hate everyone.  Racist comment, racist comment, racist comment.”  That’s probably the worst of all.

But to keep myself from going full-on thesis, here’s Miles Jai:

Here’s Chescaleigh:

Here’s Tre Melvin:

I’m using these as examples because I’m trying to swallow this rage and keep it trucking. But the end result is that people are pissed at the injustice.  And no one cares how much it inconveniences you.  Our lives are at stake.  Until there is real change, there will truly be no peace.

Pettiness and Heartbreaks: Celebrity Style
cph

“Cut that Chinese Pussy Hair off my face. Lol”

When I tell you that Sass and I cackled for hours on end over the Lispy/Fanny Pack brief separation.  But something about this douchey face and the Lol sent me over the moon.

Both of these people truly need to leave their lives off the internet, but for the first time in ages, I laughed at their antics instead of rolling my eyes.  The involvement of Drake. Her tears of melancholy and faux-inspirational Instagrams from the Jhene Aiko playbook of songwriting.  The phrase “Chinese Pussy Hair”.  This is classic.

2014 also saw the breakup of Amber Rose & Wiz Latifah. I like Amber and Wiz is entertaining to look up so hopefully things will be good for their baby.  However, this my friends:

is good times. I love this like I love cheese.

Some Last Minute Jams
Here’s two of my favorite songs.  Leggo!

In The Presence Of Mirrors – PM Dawn

Ugh, love this group so much.  I wore my aunt’s cassette for “Of The Heart, Of the Soul, And of the Cross” out when I borrowed it back in middle/high school.  They have an interesting way of speaking about life and love in a way that’s emotional and masculine if that makes sense.  It’s melodic but it’s funky.  It’s definitely a product of the early 90’s free-for-all music scene. I’ll leave the song’s interpretation up to you, but this song still takes me to a place of wondering who I am and what I’m doing.

Please Don’t Turn Me On – Artful Dodger

With my very public love of Craig David, I don’t think it is surprising that UK Garage music appeals to me. Artful Dodger did some production work on Craig’s first album too, but it wasn’t until much later that I took a dive into his singles. I love the softness of his production, the abundance of harmonies, and his ability to give songs a groove while downplaying the drumbeat. It’s all very lush, if that makes sense.  This song makes me happy.

So what’s happening in your world? Are you looking forward to 2015?

Let’s Talk

Hey folks, it’s November.  Trash’s favorite month of the year!  But it seems like the past few weeks have been full of things that piss me off.  Let’s discuss.

Social Media Trash
Now one thing you all know is that Tumblr and Instagram are sites where people have absolutely no couth.  There are blogs out there specifically for posting Catfish’ed nudes.  We constantly see “Post Bad Bitches” accounts.  It’s a part of life that is treated with stunning regularity.  What’s worse is that people are now using these platforms to “communicate” with other participants.  Let’s talk about one specific instance I saw this week.

While scrolling through the Tumblr, I saw an ask.  And I quote

“I think that Jordan Calloway is DL.  I dm’ed him a picture of me playing with myself and he didn’t respond.  And I’M A 10!!!! So he has to be gay!”

Now for those of you who don’t know who Jordan Calloway is, he was in that Drumline 2 movie and looks like this:

calloway

 

So you know, I can understand being a little thirsty.  However, what I do not understand is your snap judgment of his sexuality based on your irrational decision to send someone you don’t know footage of your vagina monologues.

lilnasty

WHO IS RAISING YOU?

Seriously, I get that there is a feeling of “intimacy” because we can now “interact” with celebrities and even fine ass regular people via these platforms. But what I don’t get is this sense of entitlement that suggests they have to respond to you no matter what you send.  If you think they are attractive, that means they are OBVIOUSLY attracted to you and are willing to spend their time interacting with a nameless, faceless other. This is regardless of sexuality.  They don’t owe you a laundry list of their sexual preferences or histories.   They don’t owe you nude photos.  They don’t owe you anything.

THEY DON’T KNOW YOU!

Someone told that youngest Jenner girl they wanted to eat chocolate pudding out of her behind.  At the age of 16.  You know that you all don’t have to actually say these things to these people.

I’ll fully admit that I stay creeping.  I’m all about that screenshot/right click + save as lifestyle.

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But what I’m not doing is badgering people with my thirst because I was never taught self-control.  Get it together adults.  Make sure these kids know how to act both in real life and on the internet.

Lena Dunham’s “Comedic” Sexual Awakening
I’m going into this having never watched an episode of Girls and only knowing two things about the show.  People either think the show is quirky funny or horribly racist.  And that they used Lady’s “Yankin” on an episode.

yankin bop

I laugh at that .gif constantly.

But anyway, Lena Dunham, the show’s creator and noted hunchback released her book this year with a problematic passage about her sexual “awakening” in the presence of her younger sister.

I’m not here to defend nor condemn this woman (who has proven that she wants to be treated with kid gloves while praised for her edgy and different she is).  I want to talk about over-sharing.  Most of the praise that I’ve read about Lena’s work is that it truly comes from her life and experiences.  The show may be an obnoxious show about privileged white hipsters but that’s her life and experience.  I recall there being a lot of praise for showing her body which isn’t “Hollywood-sized” as well.

The impression that I’ve always gotten is that she thinks that acting like a little girl is cute and has gotten by with this approach.

standupstraight

Why else wouldn’t she stand up straight?

When I read that passage and the resulting media explosion, my only thought was why put this in the book?  Why do you we need to know this about you? Again, I gather that she thought this would make her look more quirky and different. Oh, look at this weirdly curious 6 year old girl who just wanted to know what her vagina was doing!  Isn’t that adorable?!

See it’s not.  At least, a 28-year old woman tells the story isn’t.  This is the kind of attention seeking story that she thinks will “totally piss off the stuffy old people of today. I’m so edgy.” When in reality, stories of the sexual awakening of a child aren’t something we as a general public need to know. Curiosity about the body isn’t gross, in and of itself, but putting out it as a light-hearted comedic joke was never going to work.

Now her sister has to live the rest of her life with the world knowing her sibling touched her genitalia, whether it was sexual or not.

She had to know that sharing a story about touching her younger sister’s body was going to get her labeled as a child molester, truth or not.  Her “rage” at the controversy is totally unearned.

You want to tell a story about being a weird 7-year old? Talk about actual events.  (I jumped out of the car after we got in an accident and told a police officer to arrest a man for spilling my soda.)  Talk about interaction with your family. (I was given a puppy by my father and proceeded to walk away saying that I asked for a Nintendo.) There are some things that just don’t need to be said because no matter the context, it doesn’t read well.  It speaks to her lack of maturity and refusal to take responsibility for her own actions.

Her editors didn’t think this would be a scandal.  But I guess it got people talking about her book, so there’s that.

(Seriously, she’s 28? Someone get her a multi-vitamin or a spa day. Girl looks rough.)

What are your thoughts?  Are you the one sending nasty pics to Tyga’s DM’s?  How dumb is Lena Dunham? Let me know in the comments.

The Legend of Ratchetbelle

Shakespeare  once said, “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

Aretha Franklin once said, “A rose is still a rose…Baby Girl, you’re still a flower.”

I bring you these wise words, not only to demonstrate how overused roses and floral imagery are in literary and artistic works, but to set  myself up for the story of how I love my friends, Class and Trash.

Sass here, reporting  for duty.

A little over a week ago, I returned from a much needed trip to see my boys. My favorite duo, Class and Trash. Well, really I went to see Trash, but Class can’t turn down a good time, and just happened to be in the area at the same time, accompanied by my newest boo thang Dash. We spent an entire weekend laughing, laughing until we cried, eating, cackling, guffawing and just fellowshipping in a way that most people will never experience in a lifetime. At a stressful and transitional time in all of our lives, I have to admit that this was well needed and much deserved.

The weekend began when I was picked up by a car of black men, one wearing a du-rag, as if I were some kind of Instagram honey, getting flown out to be tip drilled by the squad. You don’t know me well, but I don’t do those things anymore. This was hours after my plane was originally scheduled to arrive, so I arrived under the guise of night, with plans to turn alllllllllll the way up firmly implanted in my brain. Just as an FYI, we went to Trash’s beautiful apartment where an unfortunate bottle of Fireball dared to challenge us. Don’t worry – we handled that within a number of minutes.

We went to a bar, which didn’t give two shits or a damn about my vagina, if you catch my drift. The bartender there, though, God bless him. I’m positive that he hasn’t yet met a liver that he hasn’t destroyed, with his $3 drinks that were composed of 95% alcohol with a splash of mixer. This is not an exaggeration.  I have a healthy appetite for alcohol, and even I had to ask the bartender for an extra cup of the mixer so that my liver wouldn’t commit suicide on the first night. If there’s one thing that I know, it’s that a weekend with Class and Trash will have your liver praying to King Jesus to bring it home. I needed to pace myself so as to not lose on night one. No one likes that person.

I took my first praise break of the weekend during a 1:30 trip to Zaxby’s. If you’ve never been to Zaxby’s, you have 99 problems, and that is most definitely one.

On Saturday, we prospered and flourished, while sitting on the couch watching Orange is the New Black until about 5 PM. I mean, Class went for a run, because he’s the only one who is apparently serious about his position during the upcoming cuffing season. The rest of us got Chik-Fil-A. Agree or disagree with their policies, but that chicken is scrumptious. “When Jesus says ‘YES,’ nobody can say ‘NO'”

yas

That night, two groups went out. Me and my new lifelong best friend Asian Sensation went to a club where Trey Songz was “performing,” while Class, Trash and Dash went to another bar. I’m not one to gossip, so you didn’t hear this from me, but only four people went back to Trash’s house that evening *sips tea and lowers spectacles.*

Bloop

Since there were only a few of us going back to the apartment, we got CookOut and I had my second praise break of the weekend. Again, if you’ve never had CookOut, please call a friend because you’re not living right.

cookout_tray

So remember how I said only four people returned to Trash’s casa on Saturday night? Let me tell you how said person sauntered into the house on Sunday morning just as chipper as can be. The rest of us didn’t let said person CUM into the house without us all coming for their NECK. We made sure to GET IN THAT ASS with all the jokes that a good HAND JOB could muster (okay, that one was a stretch, but I heard said person needed to stretch after their night out, too). There’s nothing to do after an amazingly fun night out besides go to brunch. And continue to drink. Excessively. For hours. It would have been rude not to. We spent the rest of the day clowning at the pool, because drunk swimming is awesome. Another friend, ATRIPP, took us out around her hood, and we had a blast at a private party, like Trash didn’t need to be at work bright and early at 8 AM.

Now let’s come back full circle, friends. Remember how I gave you those inspiring and riveting quotes about roses at the beginning? And the title is, “The Legend of Ratchetbelle?” Let’s go back there, shall we?

I live across the country from ALL of my friends. Where I live, I have friends, but it is the East Coast that knows me, loves me and allows me to be unapologetically me. When I come back to this side of the world, my friends show up, show out and get down. Which has somehow earned me a nickname…they call me Ratchetbelle. Similar to Tinkerbelle, I fly in, sprinkle you with Ratchet Dust and everyone seems to fly high and leave their manners, good sense and panties at home.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am the victim of a slander campaign. Don’t let Class, Trash, Dash, Asian Sensation or ATRIPP fool you into thinking that any of the good times mentioned this weekend are because of me. Whether you call me a rose, Sass or Ratchetbelle, I can’t take credit for the gut busting that laughter caused this weekend. These good times are because of US. A group of friends who wholeheartedly love each other, and enjoy the good things that each person bring to our lives. I could have visited these people in South Africa during Apartheid, and we probably would have made each other laugh, love and live as freely as we did.

The value of a genuine friend is something that everyone should know. I am honored to have spent my time with these people, and I truly cannot wait until all of our paths cross again. With or without my Ratchet Dust.

So to Class, Trash, Dash, Asian Sensation, ATRIPP and everyone else I saw that didn’t get a shout out because this entry is too long already: Thank you for being a friend. Traveled round the world and back again. Your heart is true; you’re a pal and a confidant. *DUN DUN DUNNNNN* And if you threw a party…invited everyone you knew….you would see the biggest gift would be from me, and the card attached would say (all together now) THANK YOU FOR BEING A FRIEND.

xxoo, Sass.

Aloha Class & Trash Readers!

I know it’s been a little while.  We miss you!  How was your week?

This is going to be quick but I thought that I would give you a rundown of the past week and some thoughts.

1) On The Run Tour

Flawless.  No pun intended.  The show was immaculately put together.  It reminded me of how big a Jay-Z fan I am.  And it is always a delight to see Beyonce do what she does best.

Also, Beyonce covered Ex-Factor.  Which…

mind

2) So You Think You Can Dance

This season is the pits.  I’m not going to mince words here.  I was nervous when I saw the cast announced and it felt even more bland that usual.  And the performance show happened.

233a6-cat-snow

These kids are talented dancers, don’t get me wrong.  But there isn’t enough diversity of styles.  There’s an immaturity to their movement.  They all even look alike.  It feels like they can all only handle contemporary and the choreography is catering to this at the expense of the show.   I’m trying my best to stick it out as this has been my summer show for years.  But really, I’m not sure how much more I can handle it.

How are you feeling about the season?

3) Lonely

Still boo-hunting?  Yep.  But as per usual, the time after hanging out with some of my best friends is one of complete devastation for me.  I don’t know if anyone feels this way.  But my life is so much better when they are around.  I feel more confident.  I feel more fulfilled.  I feel like there’s hope for me.

That’s a lot to put on a group of people.  But in a way, they are where I get a lot of my energy.

4) Hope For The Future

I’m not one to give out great inspirational advice.  My life isn’t one to model yours after.  However, I do want to tell everyone not to give up.  (including me)

Things get hard.  Life can be unforgiving.  Disappointment is real.  But we can’t stop. Giving up isn’t an option.  Letting today’s problem take us out isn’t going to fix anything.

We’ll get there.

Alright, that’s all I have.  Leave your thoughts below good friends!

 

Faux Confidence, Sealing the Deal & My Self Image

Hey folks! I hope that you had a stellar weekend.  I definitely did and I’m excited to keep it going a little bit despite my current desire to crawl in my bed.

With all of the great times and friendship, I’m reminded of some of the specific points I made in this post where I stated that I just don’t have much of a personality.  Which is weird to say, but let me try and explain.

For the most part, I think I’m cute with a few pounds to lose, decently charismatic, and fun.  Occasionally, I get off a great joke and in the right circumstances I’m completely capable of owning a room.  I love to talk about television and music, especially the storytelling aspect for television and very specific takeaways from the songs that I’ve heard.  I have a need to relate to people even in cases where my experience is not-related but I’ve convinced myself that this is the way to a human connection.  I crave validation and shine when I hear compliments from someone objective.  And lastly, I do try to humble by downplaying any perceived success on my part while showing that I’m completely capable of holding my own.

Despite that entire paragraph, I’m not sure how it all fits together.  Based on my experience last night, I feel like I came across fun and exciting only to settle into a conversation and instantly feel like I wasn’t equipped to set up the end game.  Even with the obvious easy marks, I felt like I was fighting to find flirty things to say.  I defaulted to weak ass small talk because I truly don’t know what to say.  At least not in a way that would generate real results outside of a phone number exchange.

That 0 or 100% quark is back.  I’m either sounding like a candidate for a job who is trying to impress people or a slutbucket.  And since I don’t want to be perceived as super thirsty (despite evidence to the contrary) or super easy, I tend to ask the same dumb questions because that’s what I practiced in the shower before I got to the cluh.

My trashy Abilene mantra of “You is hot, You is sexy, Guys wanna hit” may get me through the night but it’s not sticking.  Faking it until I make it keeps leading me back to the blog to write this sort of self-involved drivel.  My actual self-image isn’t improving despite me knowing objectively that there are positive things about me.

Like a small example.  I know that my friends had a good time Saturday, but we didn’t do anything.  We just sat around and they joked about it.  I can take the joke, but since I really hate feeling like I’ve disappointed people, I spent a lot of the night upset that I didn’t create a more fun experience for them.  If people act on my recommendation, I feel personally responsible for their good time.  It’s my job to make sure that they are as happy as they could have been given the situation.  That may be coming down too hard on myself (and it really is), but I want everyone to want to visit me and to hang out.  I want people to like my ideas and the thought of doing this again.  Now take this kind of pressure and apply it to situations that lack the same certainty as best friends.

I’m scared to approach guys because I don’t want to rejected.  I don’t want to run up on someone only to feel fat and ugly because I’m not their type.  I’m a little too awkward to use the staredown/eye contact trick to get them to come to me.  And even if a guy does say something, I’m ill-equipped to keep his interest.  I may be over-thinking it and projecting, but this is the real Trash.  I struggle to get out of my own way.

My friend happened to be out last night and yelled at me for doubting myself.  He quickly pointed out that I was the only one that a certain someone approached.  I honestly just felt a friendly vibe but that could have been curving myself.

What is clear is that I still have to adjust my attitude and what I’m doing.  If you don’t like the results, you can’t keep using the same tools.  I now have to equip myself somehow and in a truly, genuine way.  I don’t have any interests that generally click with people. I simply don’t have a lot of normal likes and dislikes.  But I’m going to have to present these in a way that makes people want to engage in said activities with me.  I have to stop treating interactions like interviews.  I have to relax and know that what I’ve got and who I am are going to be enough for the right person.

In other news, Atlanta you have been so sexy this weekend.  Like the city always has some cuties, but I feel like the city has been crawling with potential boo things.

But as far as the meat of this post, I don’t have a real plan yet but I hope that this makes even a little sense.  What’s going on in your world, kind readers?  Hopefully you’re feeling like a million dollars.  Why don’t you leave us a nice comment?

Taking Stock

Happy Friday All!

Let’s start with a song.

The lyric “Looking out beyond the stars, searching always wishing” has always stood out since I first listened to the Born To Do It album. As a point of reference, this Craig David album came out my freshman year of high school right after a huge reset in my life.  In two years, my sister had moved in, had my nephew, we had moved twice, my mother had passed, and I was now in a new school, new house, trying to take stock of what had just happened.  Sitting up last night hacking away with this nagging cough was like déjà vu to a night during my fall break that year.  I remember the feeling that I was no longer in control of my life.  Everything that I had known was gone.  My life and my world was no longer my own.  I was merely a bit player at this point.  I was the nephew.  The brother.  The friend.  The uncle.  But never just me.  

Last night, I realized (again) that I don’t have an identity.  I have a personality.  I have a body and face.  But there’s no me there.  If you strip away what I do (or attempt to do) for other people and jokes/quotes I’ve gotten from other people, there’s not much to me.  I don’t have passion.  I don’t have enthusiasm.  I don’t have courage.  I play my cards too close because I’m too afraid of failing or losing whatever meager ground I’ve gained.

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned that I rarely call or text people first.  In my head, I feel like I’m bothering them.  If they don’t respond, I expect it because who actually cares about what I have to say.  Who has the time to listen to me whine about my problems, which are usually self-induced.

But that line, “Searching always wishing”…  I want to be my own person.  I want to have interesting things to say.  I want people to like being around me.  I want people to want to be around me.  And not only when it’s convenient for them.  But more than that, I want to feel.  I’ve had this guard up for so so so long.  And while it’s chipped and weathered, it is still there.  Keeping out some of hurt and negativity, but also whatever joy or happiness there is in this world.  I’ve long associated that happiness with romantic love since I don’t always feel like I can get it in a familial way.  But I know that I need it from family, friends, and myself before I’m ever going to be able to feel fulfilled.

But there is no one step fix for that.  And for a while, I felt like I was making progress. I was pushing myself.  I was being social.  I put on my clothes.  I drank my drank.  I issued compliments.  But last night, I just found myself unhappy with where I was and what I had.  Maybe it’s that I need to find a middle ground between my old personality and this new personality.  Or there’s a lesson that I’m missing.

Leave me some advice.  A bitch is tired of searching and feeling like this.