July 31, 2006

Its official. I dont have to go home. But I have to get the hell out of my NYU dorm. After telling my editors that my last day really is Friday, something I thought they knew, it finally sunk it that my time was up. So instead of packing like I should, here I am in denial blogging.
I am not looking forward to squeezing all my stuff into four suitcases (including my computer and no . . .its not a laptop) But to tell the truth though Im sad to go, its so much easier for me to leave and move on to another chapter in my life (read: SENIOR YEAR!!!!!!) instead of something leaving me . . .which is deeper into my fear of rejection that is to heavy to go into now.

In other news . . .
These last two days I have been hitting the consignment and vintage shops hard. And yours truly is so freshly ready for fall! I got these funky platforms (that I pray I dont fall in with my clumsy self) that I so can see me wearing in the fall with some tights or trouser socks. And these purple boots from Beacons closet, a vintage-lovers gold mine, that my homie didnt like, but I loved! The beauty of how we are so alike yet so different. Cause I didnt love her black dress either but didnt have the heart to say nor should I that even I would say that dress was too grandma which means a lot coming from me. . .

I really think Im lactose intolerant. Im going to the doctor next week so Ill be sure to ask but until then I should fall back on the dairy. Just wish I had of figured that out before the summer was over for my poor roommates sake. I know New York doesn't have the freshes air, but that doesnt give me a right to add to the pollution . . . (TMI?)

I gave up on my crush. Its worst than 'He's just not into you.' That I can deal with. But its the maybe that makes it hard not to wonder and leaves me constantly kicking myself that Im such an old-fashion punk. Thanks for the rambling.

*packing punk in a queens body

Who knew it could be this good

July 29, 2006
Okay. So life is good. Real good. And I am excited that a dink bat like myself has the sense to realize how good it really is. Had I not been home last summer living the worst year of my young life, I probably wouldn't appreciate this golden summer so much. If I didn't remember thinking I was doing it when my mom let me get both the buy one and the get one free pairs from Payless in middle school (and I always got platforms!) I wouldn't have gotten so excited when I got these gorgeous Marc Jacobs sandals from a thrift store or been so pressed to try on those red boots I just had to put on in the picture. My week has been phenomenal. Probably one of the top five ones in my life. And although I am the queen of gab, some of the beautiful things that happened to me are to precious to put out here for any Tom, Dick or Harpo to read. (And yes, I stole that line from the Color Purple:) Sorry for being all secretive but in reading old posts I realize I put full names out here sometimes and I don't think that is appropriate blogging etiquette . . . (sorry Isoul . . .though even without a last name Im sure you can figure out who he is and read his stuff in Upscale Atlanta Peach, People, Vibe etc:)

So my most fabulous week . . .
Monday was sweet and simple. Worked hard. Came home and grabbed ice cream with the roomies. Tasty Delite for my Iowa-roomie Shell. Good ole Mister Softy for me. Though I discovered like a lot of things, the sprinkles looked cool to the eye, but weren't good to the taste.
Tuesday was one of the best days of my life! Interns had there annual lunch with Susan Taylor, which was divine. I was honored that our intern coordinator asked me to let a high school girl who is on her stuff shadow me for the day. We had a ball and she even got to spot a celebrity that came through the office (this is as much blogging I will do about my internship.) Susan offered the interns the chance to come to her apartment for a special small reception she was hosting. Though I had other plans it was Susan Taylor and some one else I was humbled to meet. Yes the penthouse was fabulous. But more importantly Susan Taylor is everything she appears to be and more. Her relationship with her husband is so inspiring and beautiful. Me, Krystle and Ashley - the interns who took her up on her offer - kid about how the highlight of our summer was washing Susan Taylor's dishes. But it really was as we bonded barefoot in her kitchen listening to her sing along with Etta James and Nat King Cole and drinking the ginger tea she made me.
And the week is not over . . .
Wednesday I got my lunch with someone who I said I wanted to meet before the summer ended in my Honey post. Yes, she really is the shit! And it always sooo cool to realize people you admire are still just regular people - and you could actually achieve what they have someday. That evening I was able to tag along with one of my editors to a movie event and who do I bump into - Scott PB, the freakin magazine king who was the founding EIC of Vibe and gave it its name. Be sure to check out his blog. Because of Michael's HUABJ panel I had had the pleasure to hear Scott speak at Howard though I didn't really introduce myself and follow up. But after hearing the EIC of Jane tell how hard he hustled as an intern at Rolling Stone and then reading that Beyonce story he did in Giant Magazine - of which he is the editorial director, I followed up emailing. He had already agreed to hang with some of us 'Howard peeps' and I had just emailed him that afternoon when I saw him at this event. He even knew who I was, though I had only seen him at that panel (gosh, i love Howard:) and it made me feel good not to just be an intern but to know someone there. I also met this cool guy from Entertainment Weekly and Aliyah, a respected music writer who Maiya had just mentioned the day before she was a fan of and who writes a lot for Upscale, which gave me way to start a conversation. So now you know Tuesday and Wednesday were FIERCE! Thursday I just partied with Z and represented Atlanta hard at Wish 26! Tonight was crazyiness in Time Square after a fabulous week. So if seeing the horrible Miami Vice was the worst part of my week I have nothing to complain about.
Now you know why I have been slacking on the posting because i'm busy living what I am sure I will look back and say was the best times (though I secretly hope it continues to get better) and I never imagined it would be this good.

-Dreams are real . . .and so are queens

July 26, 2006
Had this hot post on the rapper Brooklyn that some strange way got deleted . . .Im still sad and dumbfounded. Thanks for the love Elle B. WHen I searched in blogger it was still listed . . .

here's a snippet:
I got to see a rapper I have been promoting for a while now perform on Sunday and it was my ish. It was at the Cake Man Raven Block Party out in Brooklyn. He is renown for his cake as Camille Cosby calls Bill from other countries to ...

Death really isn't always sad I guess . . .

July 23, 2006
I'm sad for myself right now. Sad I won't be able to attend the funeral of my great-aunt Satira, who we all called Tat. Not only was she a very visual reminder of where I got my busty-ness from, but we have always shared a special bond. So that's why when my mom called today to tell me she had passed, I sort of hung up on her, though I knew it was expected. Last Saturday talking to my grandma I found out she was in the hospital - something my mother failed to mention to me when I spoke to her two times in the previous 24 hours. Just two days before she died I realized she had had cancer. She was in her 80s. Had lost a leg to "sugar" a few years before and yet was one of the sharpest people I knew up until her death. In the last few years I loved going to her house in these South Carolina section 8 houses which were basically 2-3 bedroom houses that were two connected around the block. OK houses. Tough residents. The whole time we were there kids would be in and out buying candy and sodas from her. She was no pushover but had a sweet heart and could see through the kids who tried to take advantage and would give to the ones who really just didn't have it. What I loved most was when Aunt Tat would start to tell stories of my grandaddy when he was a little boy. She would imitate how this big ole baby would be crying to her who practically raised the bunch that their sister Nancy, who really was the oldest, 'aint give em no food.' She would slide his greedy butt a 'hoecake' even though she knew he already had had three. She would tell me other stories of my family that made them real people to me and remind me they weren't born 60 years old and had lived full lives and some even died before I was thought of. I particularly loved this story she told me about how my Grandaddy snuck in the kitchen and was eating up all the sweet potatoes she had baked. Well he couldn't hide the evidence when he got sick and relieved himself throughout the yard. I'll never forget her saying how they looked like little sweet potato pies all over the yard. Hope this story doesn't come back to you when you are eating sweet potato pie this Thanksgiving:)
So Im not so sad for Aunt Tat that she passed away. Im sort of excited for her that she will meet up with so many she has talked to me about. My grandaddy died a few years back and I am sure they are laughing about those sweet potatoes. Im more sad for myself since I wont get to show her the Lye Soap she told me how to make which they used and I said I would make when I got to see her back in May. It was just me and her as I drove Blackberry Molasses to SC by myself to see my fam and we chatted like we always did. I sat in her wheel chair and got real close to her laying in the bed and we made each other smile like we always do. Im going to miss that ole girl.

-great-niece of a true Queen

Making God smile . . .loving her Color Purple!

July 22, 2006
Saw the Color Purple today and it was everything you hoped it would be, but was afraid to hope for in fear of disappointment. I'll be upfront. I love that movie. I love the characters. I love the cinematography. I love the lines. I mean, come on, I use them everyday."You told Harpo to beat me""You shoooool is UGLY""It's gone rain on yo head""Till you do right by me everything you do will fail""M-I-S-T-E-R . . .Mister"I have to physically stop myself so I can tell you a lil bit about the play. All the characters were phenomenal and you know when you going to a Broadway show you do it big and lay on the makeup. Go light on the mascara if you are late like me and havent had a chance to catch the play. By far my favorite scenes were the ones with harpo and sophia who bascially got it on on the stage:) it was so cute! Sophia was just hilarious. The unexpected suprise was Squeak who got a lot more play and was hilarious. They go deeper in some parts than the movie did when taking things from the book. They went deeper into Nettie, Adam and Olivia being in Africa and it is no mystery whether Celie and Sug are romantically involved. I forgot to mention one of the most important parts. . . .we were in the very front row! It was great to hear the usher tell us front row and worth getting out there at 8am to get in line for rush tickets when the box office opened at 10am. And it will only make you more upset if I tell you how cheap our front row seats were. Gotta love New York! From a previous post you will know I already ran into Lachanze at an event earlier in the summer, but she really is worth all the hype. I love the story and my expectations werent that high for the play just because I love the movie. But the play took my Color Purple love to new heights. I pray I find in myself a fraction of the beauty in which Alice Walker can tell a story. No they didn't do 'Miss Celie's Blues' But they reminded me and impactfully imparted the most important lesson of the story and hence it's title - be thankful for the blessings you have big and small. Don't pass the purple flowers in your life and not appreciate that beautiful color.
-Queen who dreams a Color Purple Reign

honey chile, I miss you!

July 11, 2006
She was my friend. My confidante. My ideal. And then she was gone. I remember the exact moment I heard of her death. At home for the first time since going away to college.It was Thanksgiving break my freshman year. Sitting on the couch in my den while the floor in the kitchen was still damp from my mom mopping the floor. During the BET nightly news with fellow Southwest Dekalb graduate Jackie Reid, she announced her passing. Honey Magazine had closed, along with Heart & Soul and Savoy because Vanguarde Media was shutting down.
I didn't cry or anything, but was just in deep disbelief and confusion. Maybe that confident naivete I am still trying to get rid of was in affect. That feeling of if I love something it must be hot. And everybody should recognize. A few feet away stacked in the top of my closet in my purple and green four walls that are my haven in Decatur, GA stood two piles of every issue of Honey magazine I had ever touched since I discovered the magazine about a year or two before.
The closing of Honey also caused another major rift in my comforts of the world. More important than the fact that I couldn't read the magazine anymore, I was out of job. No I wasn't blessed to say I was signed up to intern at the magazine like I knew one girl was. It was so much deeper. When I graduated from high school just a few months earlier, my career goal was very clear. I hadn't heard of ASME. And I thought Conde' Nast was a foreign word for maybe getting down in a car. All I knew and would tell anybody who asked, "When I grow up, I want to be the editor-in-chief of Honey Magazine."
So once there was no more magazine, that meant I had to alter this phrase. That meant I had to search for another magazine that suited me so well as she did.And till, this day I still haven't recovered from her death, even though she is being brought back to life, I am scared she will only be a shell of her former self. So when so many know exactly where they want their final rung to be in the magazine industry ladder, it's still a big question mark for me, which is cool for now.
I just would love to make someone feel, the way I felt the first time I met Honey. For some reason we didn't have school that day, so me and my best friend dressed cute and decided we would spend the day in the AUC. Though we knew, we never wanted to be Spelman-ites, we wandered the campus and met up with Mrs. Mitchell who had not so discretely shared the fact that all girls should want to be a Spelman girl, as she drives by in her jeep with the "Spelmn" license tag (Im not making this up!). Then after pumping into this girl from my church, we go to the bookstore. After looking over all these pretentious t-shirts, which I now own with my own school name across the front, we hit the magazine rack. And I see India Arie peaking at me. And Im like 'India, is that you girl? on the cover of a magazine?' I quickly pick it up and see Honey spread across the top. And I am in love. Along with Honey, India Arie is one of the 5 things that got me through high school. Her track 14 off her first album "the time is right, I'm gonna back my bags and tag that journey down the road" always took me away from troubles I was having and dried my tears. So it was personal when she was nominated for 5 grammys for her first CD and walked away with empty hands. It was personal as a dark skinned girl myself to have to wonder if complexion came into play as classic 'mulatto' Alicia Keys could barely carry all her Grammy's and all-natural, coco India got nada. I love Alicia too, but she just doesn't do it for me like India. So to see myself on the cover of that magazine through India was good for me. Real Good. My only thought was, 'Why has it taken me so long to find you?' I sent my subscription card in the next day and anticipated her coming every month. I knew the Honey cycle better than my own:) and as soon as I was feeling withdrawal or that it had been a while, she was always in the mail the next day. She never let me down. Until I was smelling that ammonia, sitting in my den, watching Jackie Reid. She had left me.
But hopefully she didn't. I had already started this post, when I saw Michaela Angela Davis. She was EIC when Honey passed. And she is still so very funky. Wish I would have went up to her and reminded her of how cool she was when C2C met her. And there's Angela, EIC at Essence who was Executive editor there. And there's Miss Joyce Davis, who probably had no idea I was hanging on her every word when she told us stories about her Honey days,while I was an intern at Upscale. And then there is her mentee, Mitzi Miller, who I am the biggest fan of and hope to met before the summer ends! Wish me luck! So although I have had to become less specific in my ultimate career goal, since Honey passed, I also am able to see from where all her babies ended up so many other jobs and magazines I never opened my mind to. Maybe Jane will have an opening in May . . .

I ain't you Honey, I ain't you Child, I'm just yo Queen to make you smile. so smile already. I am.

Tony Rocked My Face Off and my Coney Island cherry is popped!

July 9, 2006
Friday at work one of the interns said we should go see Chris Rock's brother, Tony Rock do stand up. I said ok and was excited because I had heard him on the radio that morning and always love a good laugh. It wasn't until I saw the flier that I realized who he actually was. The guy from 'All of Us' and he is kinda cute;). So we get to the show got good seats right by the stage and lived through a semi-decent comic who might have been a bit racist even as he imitated his Hispanic mother talking to his British father. The lady after him was the poster child of why people with inverted butts and over 50 should not where thongs!!!! After I forced myself to look away from the black hole that was her butt I realized she too was a racist as she imitated her daughter who is a lover of hip hop. Maybe I have just been at Howard too long . . .
Finally it was time for Tony to come on. From the second he stepped on the stage he noticed me I would like to think. He look to the black people who were about 30% in the room re-affirm many of his jokes about race and his security guard quickly handled a aussie audience member who made remarks and tried to end the argument with "it's all good"' in her crocodile Dundee-speak. It was a great night, I got to do one of my favorite pastimes - laugh and I felt cute even he was cockeyed and really checking out the girl at the next table with all her goodies out the jar.
Me and the girls headed over to Dukes BBQ's afterwards and you know all the black people in Manhattan had found their way to this spot in the middle of homosexual-haven, Chelsea. Maybe it was because I hadn't eaten all day but one pina colada (and not even the Texas size!) had me feeling nice! After partying soo hard during the week and going out on Thursday I was happy to get in the bed before 1:00am on Friday.

Saturday I got up and headed to Coney Island with my cousin, her good daughter, and her best friend who is the god daughters mom. Had a ball though I feel like I am the only person who didn't realize it was indeed an actual beach. The best part by far was laying on the beach and then looking up and seeing all these black people in all white singing.They continued singing while holding hands and walked down the beach. I then realized they were going to baptize some people. Once they finally made their way to the shore curiosity killed this cat and had to witness these people give their lives to God in the middle of a crowded beach with people all in the water. I grabbed my camera and was just enjoying a beautiful emotion of joy at the beauty of faith and the power of God. The preacher and his assistant went out into the water first and one by one these people - most under 18 - went out and were baptized. The crowd of onlookers like myself clapped each time, realizing the importance of these people's dip.
I know its weird in the same post to go from talking about how a pina colada had me tipsy and the beauty of baptisms, but just how God sees everything we do - even the stuff no one knows about but us. I was just thankful to see these people give their lives God as I re-evaluated my own relationship with God - and thankful for a God who can appreciate the fact that I appreciated my God laughs from Tony Rock.


Don't get fired on your day off - learn from Craig

July 5, 2006

The fourth of July was great. I slept in after flying in to Chicago yesterday only to change clothes and go right back out when I get back to my room. What can I say. Duty (read Zenitra) called and it was time for me to go party hard and promote harder. Did I mention during all the partying last night and chilling at the Fourth of July bbq today I am coughing and hoarse with what could very well be strep throat. But back to my don't get fired title. I know I can't get fired b/c theoretically I don't even have a real job, but I do have a nice freelance assignment that I have procrastinated the hell out of. Partly because I have been so busy. And the other part is that I have not made the time to get it done. The problem is I know myself too well. I know I can bang out a 500 word article in a short time. But that doesn't mean I should. So even though I did all my research, I will spend tomorrow getting the rest of my interviews done and tomorrow evening tightening up the piece. But tomorrow is the problem. And tomorrow I will pay. Through all my weekend fun in Chicago and hard partying in NY I didn't check my schedule. Tomorrow they are playing 'Mean Girls' in the park and I probably wont even get to go. I LOVE that movie and because I procrastinated like only a selfish, back stabbing, slut face hoe bag would do, I probably wont even get to go. On one hand I wish I had done things differently but the procrastinator in me who won't even admit that she is a procrastinator and just makes up excuses thinks I lived up my first fourth of July in NY and have been just making the most of a fantastic summer. Maybe they both are right. Just wish they would have figured out a way for me to have fun, write the article and still make it to mean girls. maybe next time.

so fetch,
(whose middle name is spelled the way Katie should be spelled)

Feels Good . . . Yeah

July 2, 2006
Sitting downstairs in the basement on the computer at my aunt's house, I realize this is one of the best moments I have had in a while. I'm not in that 'Damn I'm Fly' mood after a few soco lime shots with Julienne and Zenitra and Deja Vu comes on and my inner Sasha comes out to play. I don't have a few extra dollars to figure out how to spend - I'm actually closer to being in the whole since I just got back from the casino with my aunts and cousin. I just feel peace.
A peace that ever thing is really alright with my world. I'm healthy. I'm almost always happy. I'm loved. And most importantly, none of these things can be taken away because my happiness isn't built on material things and goals. I know I'm being all mushy but I had a really good weekend in Chicago.
After the flight from HELL, which will ruin my good mood if I talk about it now, I made it to Chicago. The family reunion picnic was a lot of fun, the midnight cruise last night was an experience, especially the ultimate people watching as a pseudo-Diddy White Party was hosted on our ship. Church today with the fam was good. I got to wear this dress I LOVE! The choir was good and my aunt even sung a solo with her alto/tenor voice. I did a good job of understanding the pastor at their A.M.E church who has a really thick west African accent - and even thicker eye brows:)
The best part for me was after church. The ladies of the family (my Aunt's in-laws:) sat around the table as me my aunt and cousin played the hostess with the mostess. My job was to make daiquiris, which I perfected and the cut slices of watermelon were a perfect touch for a glass garnish. With all the crab left from Friday night's crab fest, we chowed down, quiet for the first 15 minutes b/c the food was so good and then begin swapping story. Though my voice was sooooooo hoarse, and now officially gone which is a major part of why I am even typing this post since I can't talk, I still fought to hint at my mom's story of her pet chicken Lily when she was little. This story is always a low-blow for me to bring up put so worth the expressions on her face when she talks about how she thought she was being a good mom by feeding her chicken more, but only fattened her up to make her inevitable frying that much sooner. But let me go ahead and head back upstairs for more family fun. I'm not extra patriotic. And this whole 4th of July celebrating is an oxymoron for a black person. But I am very happy for this peace, this time for family, this rejuvenation I didn't even realized I needed.


* I'll give a dollar to anyone who knows what song the title of this post is from