On Tha Edge

So, yeah. I love my sister's building. Last night I came up on the M100 bus. I was headed toward the subway when the rum I had been drinking smacked my face and pulled my feet toward Smiley's, the corner store that sells loosies (single cigarettes). Of course, since I was well on my way to being tipsy, I grabbed a smoke for 75 cents, bumping into a fine tendah who was doing the same; smoking the poison! Anyway, I light my cigarette, still in the bodega (I think smiley prefers that so people don't walk out with single cigarettes thus alerting the ever-present police of of his illegal tenders.) Smoking, within 5 seconds, intensified my tipsiness to drunkardness and I stagger out of the bodega. Geez, I thought, I'm fucked up! I decide then and there that I will NOT take the C train or the A for that matter. Fuck the train; it was so sunny and warm and I had flip flops on for the first time since last summer. I definitely did not want to go underground in a crowded, dirty, dank, dark ass subway station and squeeze onto the A train. So I waited at the bus stop but I forgot how EFFING long the buses take and I ended up waiting 20 minutes for one bus. There were hella buses that passed and read NEXT BUS PLEASE which just got me in a rum rage. There was a Mexican dude waitin with me, but I turn around and see him 3 blocks up the street, preferring pounding the pavement than being disgraced by public transit in the hot afternoon. He rather WALK, then wait. I follow suit and take off toward the train station but, lo and behold, I see a M100 bus on the corner. I run towards it only to be rejected by the bus driver; it was too full...but I was gonna ram someone to squeeze my ass on there but homeboy wasn't having it. "Next bus ma'am, we're full!" First reaction; DO I LOOK LIKE A MA'AM JACKASS? Second: Fuck this stupid, fucking bus I've been waiting over 20 minutes for you to tell me NEXT FUCKING BUS! Luckily, there was a bus behind the full one that was full too but I'd be daaaaamned if they rejected me from this one. I didn't even wait for the bus driver to say anything, I swiped my card and sidestepped an old lady, sucking on a hard candy producing a mess of saliva down her chin...GROSS!
I made it to 155th and to the EDGE! I was excited that my sister's neighbors were having a potlock. THere is always something jumping off in her bldg. There's a wonderful Ethiopian community of sisters, husbands, cousins and brothers. They're always acting uber-Ethiopian but most of those guys grew up right here in the U.S. of A. I love them anyway. Nicole was there, hookah hogging and tellin me to "fall back lil' homie!" I was the youngest one there but shit I'm grown. Big Time! JB was up in there (my special partner in crime) and I had him rollin in the kitchen. There was this guy (whom, turns out, my sister fooled with much to her dismay) who was dancing in the living room to some song...I will say it was "Gimme" by Abba just to relate the ridiculousness of the man's proposition. So, JB and I were sitting in the kitchen, bullshittin and chillin when LAME-O guy yells from the "dance floor", "Come on JB, show me your MOVES!" while he steadily pop and locks his way around the lonely dance floor. I think JB might've turned his head 2 degrees in homie's direction, then I said "Who the fuck is the corn ball?" and we fall the fuck out. We continue to clown until he locks his ass OFF the dancefloor. We continue to laugh in his face. It was the best! I hope he wasn't offended, but I didn't (and still don't) really care. My sister was running around, watching sports with the fellas. Salaam, her gym buddy, danced in the kitchen the whole night, free and light! There was even Richmond there, a chick who was visiting, not part of the Edgecombe community, but still there to kickit...it was a great time!
Well, I love the Edge. Last night was a partyin potluck. I was in bed by 2, up by 7 and writing by 8, to share this excitement with you.

A Date; An Evaluation

So what's going on? Why is dating such a difficult thing for a black female. And I'm not even THAT picky. I met this guy a few weeks ago walking to the A train from my sister's house. He was very nice looking, cocoa brown, straight teeth, argyle sweater. I was like "Whoa, uptown!" I know what you're thinking. Why should this excite me the way it did; let me elaborate, a little, on my community. I live in Harlem. There are plenty of good looking brothas around my neighborhood. Plenty! They might even have good conversation, nice cologne and pressed clothes, but ask them about an email account and it's all shits and giggles from their end. So when I see homeboy, I'm like wow, he looks like he has email. He reaches out to me by commenting on the cigarette in my hand. "You really shouldn't smoke", he says. "I know, I'm quitting." I respond. It was my first smoke in 3 days AND I was tipsy, but no excuse! Anyway, we get the chattin and he has great convo so we exchange numbers. Of course we hang out for a few weeks and everything is gravy. He meets me after work, I help him with his job hunt, we watch Zodiac like 80 times. Let's just say the last few weeks were chill. No funk. Now, it gets tricky. I know he's been recently frustrated with his job hunt. He commented to me several times how he "hates having no money." I know how he feels; it took me seven months to find a 9 to 5. And I ain't the type of chick to berate brothas for being trifling and all that hooplah because that's some entitlement, resentful shit that I can't get down with. I'm humble and I share. So, the last few weeks I've tried to be as encouraging as I could. I know people are broke. Shit I'm BROKE and I HAVE A JOB. So I digg his situation, ya digg? Anyway, out of the blue, homeboy starts fakin on dates. He says he'll meet me after work like he's done numerous times but around the time I get off, he cancels. Now I know we've been kickin it for a little less than a month but it's been like everyday so it was a little intense...so anyway, the dude starts canceling and I can't figure it out. Eventually I stop calling and he doesn't call either. So that's where it left off...weird, I thought. I can't seem to figure it out. I'm not the one to stress over dudes or even give it that much thought, but I can't help to wonder...hmmm, what's up with homeboy?
My friend just started a blog and she had a posting on there that relates her experience with one dude at a club one night. Long and short of it, he calls her and her "kind of black women" stuck up because they expect too much from a man. I know we're all familiar with the Angry black woman bullshit that manifests from a period of time where black women were, in fact, angry with black males. I know we used to be resentful of interacial dating and the negligence on behalf of black men and rightfully so. But I just don't be trippin like that because I ain't stuntin what everyone thinks, I occupy myself with what that one black male thinks...but I remember. I'm 24; I recall Queen Latifah being like "who you callin a bitch? U.N.I.T.Y. That's a UNITY!" but I can't really say I feel angry with brothas. I don't feel anything of the sort actually. I ain't trippin off your financial status or your educational history. You got good convo? Good. You read? Excellent. You like to have money in your pocket? Even Better. Love ya momma? I thought so. Me? Well, I did go to a great school and I've lived overseas and I can say I look pretty damn good, but I ain't goin shun a nig for not going to school or not having a job or having crooked teeth. Seriously, it sounds shallow but so many sistahs do it. So, back to the point at hand, I wonder what happened with homeboy?
Some chicks can't figure out why the ugliest bitch in the room got dudes flockin to her. It's because of the confidence that she exudes and the non-judgment that she represents. No one wants to be judged and berated, especially by their mate, so I can understand where woman get verbally mushed because of these "standards" of a black man needing to have a job, straight teeth, nice clothes, great convo, no criminal record etc. They say they're not asking a lot but relative to the plight of black dudes (1 in 3 having a criminal history), it's not likely they'll find this guy and if they do, he's probably married...sorry.
So I'm just saying, I'm not a stickler, but I still seem to have dating issues. Don't get me wrong, finding a man isn't the problem; finding one ready to deal with me is. My guy friends complain all the time that if they could just find a chill chick, they'd be good. Either they're full of shit or deluded...or maybe I'm the crazy bitch...

Vapid Expanse

Okay, for real ya'll. I'm not tryna joke on people or nothing but, seriously, BLACK PEOPLE, WE NEED TO START READING MORE. Now, I don't have many friends or enemies for that matter. I keep to myself, show peace and love to most, and do me. I enjoy working out in the mornings, chanting by morningside park, listening to the rustle of the tress on quiet NYC mornings...Yeah, I be doing some hippy shit. Maybe that's why I read so much. It started long ago, I think. When I was 10, my family took Amtrak across country and I began reading seriously then. I read Goethe at 13...not to toot my own horn, but damn, that's pretty fucking good. So anyway, I'm getting off point. I get tired of talking to the few friends I have and discovering that an overwhelming majority of them don't read. AT ALL. The news reel on news channels? Nope. Online newspapers or journals? Nope. Books, novels, shorts, newletters? Hell naw. I mean, they don't even read the fucking free papers. But let me mention BOSSIP or some other ignant ass shit, and omg, their eyes alight and they start spewing "facts" on celebs like they live next door and shit. Sometimes I stare and think, don't you ever want to REALLY know what's going on in the world? Where do you get your information if you don't read? Their sources thus comes from the most unreliable source. Television. They can spit off Drake lyrics quicker than they can name the Speaker of the House. Eruditeness at best for them is citing Newt Gingrich. No I shouldn't say at best but that's like a step up...FUCK, sad state of affairs.
I can't speak for other people except the ones in my sphere. I don't mean to target black people particularly, but my interactions with my black friends and their lackluster depth is quite disturbing. Not to mention that most of these niggas went to college so I find that kind of abstruse (some may also argue, validly, that my use of Nigga is regressing our advancements but I feel like I don't care what those people think because that is a trivial argument that spuriously draws attention to an issue that has a feeble impact on progression.)
But, seriously, I would like to see some more young black people reading. Read anything. You can start off slow...Eric Jerome Dickey maybe. He writes like most dudes rap--plastic baggies & drugs, killin haters, knockin off hoes et cetera. Or maybe you'd like one of those Midnight Love books...whatever your preference, I just encourage you to read. Open your mind, expand your boundaries. You'll be a better person because of it.