Don't Look Now...

For those of you who missed it- This Bug leads a pretty interesting life. I'm not sure why- but for some reason I'm always around to bear witness to the stranger things that tend to occur. This account is not so strange- but I still found it interesting. Trust me, Folks. I couldn't make this up.

So last week I'm staying at a hotel many states away from home. After soaking up monsoon-like rain in a place that is known for their sunshine (and evil Mickey Mouse Empire) I return to my room with my friend. He notices a peculiar note on the floor that was not there when we left hours ago. It reads:

I think you kind of cute. 954-XXX-XXXX (Insert Bold Person's Name Here)

The closet narcissist that is This Bug immediately panics. Ohmygod!!! Someone must be watching me! It's happened before, you know. Weird anonymous love note on my windshield once. Riiiight... No such thing this time. Upon further inspection- it's obvious the note was surreptitiously slipped under my room door for him. Silly me. I must be losing my touch. For pure entertainment, I urge him to call the number written in ladylike penmanship. You know, just for shits and giggles. He calls. A young woman with the slowest, country-est, cornbread & collard green eatin' Southern drawl answers. The following conversation ensues via speakerphone:

Bold Person: Hellaw?

Kind of Cute: Hey, I'm looking at this note I just found. I'm not really sure what it's about.

BP: Welllll, I'm not sho' I lef' it under da right door. (Giggles) But if dis is who ah think it is... ah thought you was kinda cute.

K.O.C. : Well, what did the person look like?

BP: You was brrrown skinnded...and Ummm...had drrraids. Is dat you?

(At this point, he and I are stifling wide-mouthed laughs. No sound coming out.)

K.O.C. : Um, yeah. That kinda sounds like me. I don't remember seeing you, though.

BP: When you seen me I was lookin' kinda busted. I had my hurr tied up in a scarf an' all...

K.O.C.: Oh. Okay. I might have seen somebody- but you went by in a flash. I might as well have seen a bunny rabbit run by.

BP: (Giggles into the phone) Welllll...I seent you. Mmm hmmm..

The conversation moves to who she is staying with, how long she'll be at the hotel, plans for a club later that night and how she could come down to his room if he wasn't busy. (Cue sound of needle scratching across the record here.) Wait. WTF?! Is she crazy? Now granted- Kind of Cute looks awful breezy. Harmless, even. Which he is. But this girl didn't know him from a can of Benjamin Moore. Judging from the convo, she could have easily made her way to a rendezvous with nothing but a man, some GHB spiked drinks, pliers and some duct tape.

K.O.C. : Actually...I'm not even there right now. I just ran in and out when I found your note. I thought it might have been a receipt I dropped earlier. Maybe later on tonight I can catch up with you.

BP: Yeahhhh....Aight den...gimme a call layter. Furreal. (More giggles)

I quietly prompt Kind of Cute to have her send a pic of herself to his phone. You know, just so he can remember the bunny that skittered by. She agrees. Oh! How I wish I could post that photo. You have NO idea. But I'll be fair. Plus, he probably deleted it by now. She wasn't a hot sizzlin' mess...but an odd, broad shouldered mess all the same. Minutes later he gets a text asking if he received her pic. We erupt into laughter. He replies that his is on the way. He never sends one. Anyway, to my knowledge there was no further exchange between Bold Person and Kind of Cute. And This Bug actually learned a few things. One: You never know who's in stealth mode watching you come and go from your hotel room. Two: No notes for me that weekend- I have officially lost my touch. Three: There is no such thing as too forward in those parts. That shy Country Girl shit is an act.

M-I-C See you in your room...
K-E-Y Why? Becuz you kinda cute...
M-O-U-S- Too Easy!

Calamity Jayne Rides Again

Lately, I've been really pissed off. In the past few days I've done everything from curse out wack drivers on the road, snap at friends and destroy property that was not mine. I could chalk it up to good ole PMS a.k.a Potential Murder Suspect- but that would be a cop out. For some reason, I cannot pin down the object of my rage. And that bothers me. Right now, anybody can get it. So as an exercise in damage control, I've elected to leave alcohol alone until this ill-tempered spell passes. If not, it can really pop off. I can feel it. According to Nas- a glass of 'ze make a man Cassius Clay. If that's true then a bottle of Nuvo makes me Riddick Bowe.

I'm going to be honest here and admit that I'm disappointed in myself. For years I've worked tirelessly on controlling my temper. Mostly because I understand that whoever angers you; controls you. And I like to remain in control. Plus, assault charges are not a good look for This Bug. Counting backwards from ten just isn't working for me these days. I want to whoop somebody's ass. Plain and simple. I'll go one step further with the honesty and say that if I lose the fight- perhaps that will calm my hotheaded ass down for a second. Who knows? All I know right now is that I have a blood lust that seems unquenchable. Ah, what to do? Violence is not the answer. Laughter is the best medicine. With all these clichés floating around- maybe I should seek some middle ground while I ruminate on the funniest quote I've ever heard from one of the angriest men I can think of.


"I might just fade into Bolivian." - 'Iron' Mike Tyson


C'mon. You know you're smiling...


Out.

Throwback Thursdays

Today's Throwback is inspired by one of the most crucial components of Hip-Hop. None other than the emcee. The ones who make it pop. The ones with vocabulary and flow for days. The ones who can make a song about absolutely nothing but showcase their skills with such finesse- no one cares that the title makes no sense. And who did that better than Organized Konfusion? '91/92 (don't quote me) brought us the underground classic Fudge Pudge. To this day, I can't tell you what the song means- but Damn, they came off! Prince Poetry, Pharaoh Monch with then newcomer and guest star O.C. do what they do best on this joint. Back then, they could afford to do something lighthearted since the self-titled debut album touted more cerebral tracks like Prisoners of War and Open Your Eyes. I'm not sure what it is. From the tickling of the piano keys to each MC rhyming with telltale bravado- this song will always have a place in This Bug's heart. Plus it features a chubby Pharaoh Monch before he got unrecognizably fit for Simon Says. He looked more like Pharaoh Monchichi to me by then- but his lyrics were still on point. I'm actually glad someone stole his last piece of chicken. You can't go wrong with a healthier lifestyle. But I digress.

Fudge Pudge is chock-full of witty quotables. They rip the beat from the get-go and never let up. How can you not appreciate Monch admitting that he doesn't have a fancy car but has been blessed in...ahem...other ways. "No I don't have a Benz and no I don't have an Infiniti. I figure the eight inches of ME will be the remedy." And you know what, Fellas? He's right. Hold off on finding a co-signer for that brand new whip. I'm sure plenty of women are willing to pay for a cab themselves to get that sufficiently sized brother delivered to their doorstep. Not that I'm speaking from experience or anything... I'm just sayin'. Anyway, this one right here is arguably one of the best underground albums of the '90's. In my humble opinion it falls somewhere between the surprising commercial success of The Low End Theory and the buried treasure obscurity of Stunts, Blunts and Hip Hop. All classics in their own right. Oooh, and I like it....

Flashback

Five years old. Counters are so high when you're little. The oven is a monster in the corner. Large mouth creaking open like a trap door. This is a dangerous place I'm told. Hot things burn. Sharp things cut. No running in here! The cake will sink. The food sustains and it forever smells like a marriage of curry and coffee I am too young to imbibe. Warm light fills the space. A huge wooden spoon and fork cast shadows like Medieval weapons on a museum wall. There are too many cooks in here. Mothers, aunts, second cousins- all speaking in sotto voce about things that should not be done in any kitchen. Or surrounding rooms for that matter. I am too small to reach the top shelf where a treasure of unspeakably sweet treats reside. I am not too small to understand the unspeakable things I overhear. Invisibly, I listen... and know I'll have a kitchen to cook up my own savory mysteries someday.

Throwback Thursdays

Hello B-boys and B-girls. Let's jump right in today. I'm thirsty for some Juice Crew and some dropping of knowledge at the same time. It may not seem possible to put those on the same plate but guess what?! You can. I had this video on tape before my sister (affectionately now known as Destructo) erased it for some trife life ish. I'll never get over it. You can read about it here. Anyway, this seems somewhat appropriate since Erase Racism fits the bill on both counts. Kool G Rap, Biz Markie and Big Daddy Kane came off on this one. A relaxed approach to a tense subject. You gotta love it.

On the heels of Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing, I remember the racial climate being hotter than July in 1990. This song came right on time with skill and relevance that still permeates today. I'm not too young to remember the death of Yusef Hawkins, so for Kane to mention it hit me hard. Plus, the beat was sick. Peep how it drops for the Asiatic Black Man. As usual, Biz cannot help being the court jester- but he added charm to this otherwise serious track with his rendition of Three Dog Night's Black and White. It does nothing to take away from the importance of this joint. There were so many powerful images in this video, too. Hitler and David Duke. Howard Beach news clippings. People of different races seemingly joining forces. Sidebar: I always loved the dancing in this vid. I miss dat shit! And truthfully, it wasn't until I watched it again with mature eyes that I recognized the symbolism of G Rap rhyming in a cemetery. No matter our ethnicity or differences- we all end our journey here in the same place. This Bug's favorite line? "I bring a rattle any battle that you send me in. I'm no villain so why would I be killin' Indians?" One Love.

Apropos to Nothing

"Just a day, just an ordinary day. Just trying to get by." Those are Vanessa Carlton's words and I feel them now more than ever. Previously I mentioned how hectic my schedule has been lately. Also, a black cloud of bad luck tried to follow me around for a few weeks- but I will not be put asunder! Instead, I'm going to appreciate all the big and small quirky things that make This Bug's life worthwhile. Some of it is going to sound a little off the wall but I'm willing to share so be polite, ummmkay? Great. You really are sweethearts...





So I just started yet another writing class under the most unusual circumstances. (You'd have to read it to believe it.) It's cool. I feel...So-Ho-ish. Love the Bowery, really I do.



Lusting for my shoe porn fix, come hell or high water: I will make these Oscar De La Renta's mine no matter what. Stay tuned.



From DeGrassi High to Hip-Hop Supernova, this boy has me scratching my head like, "Where did he come from?!" Seriously, he makes Kanye's arrival to the game 7 years ago look like a tiny blip on the radar. And ya'll remember how the world felt about pre-Autotune Mr. West, don't you?



You would think after Supersize Me and that horrible singing fish commercial with the Casio beat that I'd be wise enough to leave McDonalds alone. But like Pookie, that Filet-O-Fish be callin' me, Man. It be callin' me...




Acting on sheer impulse this week, I will soon be somewhere no one with a writer's sporadic income should be. Alas, you only live once.




Been channeling my inner Salt-N-Pepa lately. Ghetto Gold is the ish. I dare somebody to say different.




That's it for today's randomness. Now go enjoy your own ordinary day and be thankful for the little things in the palm of your hand. And remember People, life is for enjoying. Find your joy and hold it close to you.

Some Kind of Wonderful

I don't think there is anything I can say that would do Stevie Wonder's music justice. Quite simply, the man is a zenith of sorts. I could go on and on about his songwriting skills or incredible musical talent but I'd rather just tell you how his songs affect This Bug. When I was twenty, Innervisons became the soundtrack to my life. I rediscovered Stevie amid discovering myself- and I've never been the same since. Walk with me...

I'm too high
I'm too high
But I ain't touched the sky.

Too High: There was a time in my life when I smoked entirely too much marijuana. It started when I was in high school and didn't wind down until my mid-twenties. At the start of this song, he describes a girl that was not unlike myself. Granted, I never tried "hard" drugs but my world was a superficial paradise. It was all I had to escape from a reality of not being allowed to become who I wanted. I took another puff and observed that it was a crazy scene. By the time I stopped smoking weed- I was truly blessed that it all didn't get to me at last.

Or do we have to find our wings and fly away
To the vision in our mind?

Visions: In a time when the world made such little sense to me; I relied on Stevie's insight. He saw exactly what it was- and what it should have been. There was always a part of me that knew I had to become the change I wanted to see in the world. This song brought that vision gently into focus and knew I had to begin with myself.

He's almost dead from breathing on air pollution
He tried to vote but to him there's no solution.

Living For the City: My father was and still is a very hardworking man. Anyone who rises at 4:30 a.m. to end his day at 7:00 p.m. is no slouch by any stretch of the imagination. I remember hearing this song and feeling all of that struggle surround me. There were no silver spoons in any of our mouths. In fact, for most of my childhood it was hand-to-mouth although I didn't really know it until I got older. I heard inside Stevie's voice of sorrow and understood that better tomorrow my father was always working towards for all of us.

Looking at your hands
Hands can understand...

Golden Lady: The promise of true love is so much deeper than the premise of it. I recall listening to this and wondering, "Can someone really feel that way... about me someday?" The lyrics are full of adoration and for the first time in my young life I realized I was a queen worthy of the same poetic praise Stevie lavished on some woman out there. He convinced me. I was a Golden Lady. It was just up to the right person to see that shining through my tough Cancerian shell. All things in time.

Powers keep on lyin'.
While your people keep on dyin'.

Higher Ground: The news had me twisted for a while. So much was going on that upset me and I felt powerless to help in so many ways. But Stevie pointed out that world will continue to turn- so I just do what I do and then some. What I was not going to do was just keep sleeping. I had higher ground to climb to- and for that I had to be on my feet with my eyes open. There was no other way.

Are you hearing
What He's saying ?
Are you feeling
What you're praying ?

Jesus Children Of America: At a time when I was going through a significant spiritual shift, this song resounded with me on so many levels. By the time I was old enough to decide, I stopped going to the Roman Catholic church I confusedly attended as a youngster. My parents respected my viewpoint and fell back. I was searching for something more than kneeling, sitting, standing and confessing to a middle man. In my eyes, penance could not be given to me by someone who was just as human and flawed as myself on any given Sunday.
This tune made me question just where my faith lied and partly thanks to it; I've never regretted my eventual decisions.

When all is put away
the losing side I'll play.

All In Love Is Fair: Love and loss is part of everyone's lives and no one told it better than Stevie. Many nights this song accompanied my glass of wine which I poured tears into. I'd lay awake on my back, unable to roll over for the planet of regret that rested heavily on my chest. I too tossed my coin in hopes that love would last forever. It is by far one of the hardest lessons everyone has to learn. Stevie's pain was my own. A writer takes his pen to write the words again- and I did also.

Everybody needs a change
A chance to check out the new
But you're the only one to see
The changes you take yourself through

Don't You Worry 'Bout A Thing: If there was ever a song to assuage all that I was going through- it was this. It brought me closer to the idea that everything would be alright. Whenever I felt put through the wringer- I reminded myself that given the circumstances it was all Chevere. I was also lucky enough to have someone special standing on the side when I checked it all out.

If you tell him he's livin' fast
He will say what do you know?
If you had my kind of cash
You'd have more than one place to go...

He's Misstra Know-It-All: At the expense of throwing him under the bus, this one always reminded me of my brother. He is not my blood brother. We are not related, but you can't tell either one of us that. While I was doing my own soul-searching, he was going through many changes as well. With a job in the entertainment industry, he was fast acquainted with all that comes along with such a high profile. His talk of parties and celebrities worried me to death. He was speeding and you couldn't tell him nothing. I wanted him to remain grounded but barely knew how to do that for myself. Thank God (and Stevie) that he eventually saw the forest for the trees. I'm so glad we didn't lose him to such an avaricious lifestyle.



Author's Note: This post was inspired by a kick ass party thrown in honor of Stevie Wonder's birth that I recently attended. It was inspired even more so by receiving this album on vinyl from someone very close to my heart. It would have been nice for them to be there. I feel about as blessed to know them as I do about experiencing Stevie's music. Just plain wonderful. I can only hope that they will both know it someday.

Sometimes...

...people tell you to have a Coke and a smile and shut the f*ck up- just by their actions. That's my 2 cents. Move it along, now. Nothing to see here.

Lunchtime at Osaka

"Time flies.
Suns rise and shadows fall.
Let it pass by.
Love reigns forever over all."

Handling chopsticks with seasoned expertise, the talk moves to practical things. Mechanics and maniacs. Fortunate times and some less so. Most of the sentences punctuated by an occasional broccoli floret being popped into the mouth. He goes on...No one should take advantage of a lady like that. In goes a morsel of Orange Chicken. Sometimes you have to turn it up on folks so they know what's what. He pauses. Takes a sip of Peach Iced Tea through a straw I am officially envious of. His eyes dart from me to the activity behind me, watching take-out orders travel in and out. Like Malcolm- his back is never to the door. I hear every word and yet I don't. Too busy watching deft fingers manipulate the bamboo. What comes out of his mouth is more delicious than what I see go in. I hear every word. And yet I don't. Manila fortune cookies lay cracked on the table- resting by the check. He has no idea how true mine is.

Throwback Thursdays

Okay, it's Confession Time. This Bug has a hectic life. More so than usual lately. Lots of responsibilities have taken to the back burner. One of the unfortunate casualties of my busy Bug activities happened to be Throwback Thursdays. Well, never fear. Thanks to Blogger.com capabilities, it's like I never skipped a beat. I can post date my entries! Who knew? An apology to the faithful readers of Throwback Thursdays who stopped by yesterday and left with no treats. Sorry ya'll. I've been handling biz.

Anyway, since I'm coming clean in the Blog Confessional, now would be a good time to admit that I was a youngster raised on Cable back in the 80's and 90's. One of the perks was the Playboy Channel and I had NO business watching it. But that's the result of hardworking parents and me with little supervision. Plus, it was dangerously close to the Disney Channel back in the day. Why they would have the Mickey Mouse Club set two clicks away from Electric Blue is beyond me, but that's how I discovered it. What? I can't be the only one, dammit. So there was also a video music show called Hott Rocks. I can't make this up, People. Before BET Uncut, this show had videos of a more risque nature. Thanks to this wonderful show, I came across Little Shawn's director's cut of Hickies on your Chest. There's not much difference except the pyjama-clad vixens were topless while rubbing all over that fine ass man. If memory serves me correctly- he might have had a titty in his mouth between verses toward the end of the video. No lie. The song had that classic Uptown Records sound, too. Days later, I copped the single and damn near popped the tape. The B-side was I Made Love (4 the very 1st time). Surely that marks the beginning of my sexual awakening. Alright. Confession Time is over. Go watch it here since Youtube wanna get all high-saditty about embedding vidz and such...Womp, womp.

Can't Hardly Wait

Hello Boys and Girls. Does anyone remember when I threw Mos Def out of the car some time ago? I'm speaking figuratively of course, but he ended up at the side of the road when we were through. Actually, it was a tailor-made CD that included a song of his that I still am not fond of hearing to this day. That's actually what got tossed out of my moving car. Nothing personal against Mos. I love Mos. Really. Let your eyes travel a smidgen to the right of this blog and you'll know I'm not fakin' jacks on that one. My appreciation for him as an artist transcends that of a typical "fan". His insight, talent, delivery and relevance is a gift from the Creator that he happens to share with the universe. He actually takes me some place else. So much so- that I can still close my eyes and be transported back to Carnegie Hall last year where he tore it down with his live band, The Watermelon Syndicate. Talk about a tight show. Best birthday gift I've ever received- hands down. Anyway, Flaco Bey does not stay idle for long. Case and point: The Ecstatic has a projected release date of June 9, 2009. I don't care who is waiting with bated breath or not. The man is the truth. This Bug is all tingly inside. To be honest...I'm Ecstatic!

Mos Def - Words - The Ecstatic - available 6/9/09

If nothing ever changed, there'd be no butterflies

It was brought to my attention the other day that no one really knows what a butterfly goes through on it's way out of the cocoon. It may quite possibly be the most painful and laborious change before its emergence as a beautifully colored, lighter-than-a-feather, winged creature. I don't know much about butterflies. Alas, the blog is called This Bug's Life not This Butterfly's Life. That doesn't even seem to have same ring to it, really. But this is what I do know about butterflies...I know that the original name for them was actually Flutterby and I know that once their wings have been touched- it renders them useless. They can never fly again and die soon afterward. Those are two very interesting facts to me- since I find myself going through my own transformation of sorts.

I won't detail the changes right here and now, but I will be forthcoming enough to say that I feel a tremendous emotional growth taking place. The things that would have bothered me previously are making their way underfoot where they belong. I see things, myself and others through such a different light these days. I can recall past events with alacrity- now devoid of the cynicism that so often accompanied those memories. It doesn't happen overnight. I know this. But I feel the shift.

As arduous as some of these changes may be, I know all of it brings me closer to what I am ultimately supposed to be. A beautiful creature, bright colors abound. Free to flutter by and fly. Touch the warmth and float above the grayness that dooms most days. But after seeing what those days had to offer- it should come as no surprise that these changes are inevitable. Watch the cocoon closely for the Black Butterfly that is This Bug.

Just Plain Miserable

I usually don't do this but I need a moment to rant. As I sit here typing this, my face is ballooned so disproportionately that I'm sure I can scare small children. Some of you may remember my reference to waking up looking like Slappy Squirrel during the Weekend Wrap-up last week. Well, that is nothing compared to what I'm dealing with now. After some excruciating pain at the dentist yesterday (the Novocaine didn't take, believe that?) I'm left with one half of my face swollen beyond recognition and a fever. I can barely open my mouth to eat, let alone speak. The up side? I guess I can kiss those pesky 5 pounds good-bye by the time this is all over. On top of this pain and grotesque appearance, my car is still not working properly. After months of reconnection with my cousin, I may not even be able to see her given all of the current misfortunes. Though it feels like she's a stone's throw away, I don't think it's gonna happen. This sucks. I freakin' miss that girl. I can't recall a time in my life that brought about the interruption of everything so swiftly before now. So yes, this is my complaint, rant, my official bitch-and-moan session. The one thing I can honestly say I am grateful for- is the love and support I've been feeling since this whole ordeal began. The kind words, the hand-holding, the waiting up in the ER, the meeting of my minuscule needs for Chapstick or a Strawberry milkshake- you know who you are. A million thanks. I know this will all be over soon enough. Until then...F*ck my life. Sure wish I had some Blueberry Cheesecake...

Throwback Thursdays

This Bug will be the first to admit that she has a temper. Over the years (without mandatory Anger Management) I've learned to smooth my ruffled feathers before it lead to catching a case. I could be here all day if I ponder whether that temper derives from genetics, my environment or some other tangible reason. No time for that today. I just wish to pay homage to some angry Hip-Hop for Throwback Thursday. And if anyone had "angry" on smash- it was M.O.P. Now, before I'm met with naysayers who would beg to differ, let me share a little story with you. A few years back, I went to the Lyricist Lounge in NYC. Tall Shawn of Heltah Skeltah was hosting and Lord Digga was in the building. I remember this very well because your boy Ruck made the mistake of introducing him as Rah Digga. Why? I dunno. It may have been an honest mistake- or it may have been his own creative way of calling Lord Digga a bitch. The world may never know...

Anyway, M.O.P. was also in the building and from what I understand there was a 3 song minimum so every artist got their time to shine. Well, I don't know if the folks in charge neglected to tell the Mash Out Posse this little nugget of info- but they got on stage and spit what felt like an entire album. No joke. I'll be honest. After they rocked today's featured throwback- I was ready for them to get off the stage. That aggressive delivery is cool on wax- but live on stage the yelling starts to be a bit much. By the time the sound engineer realized they had gone way over schedule- he tried to disconnect the mics and speakers since his attempt to tell them to stop performing yielded no results. Why did he do this to himself? In a flash- they were on him. I'm not gonna say dude caught the critical beatdown- but he got lumped up pretty good. I saw a few elbows dropped in dude's back. Needless to say Billy Danze and Lil' Fame finished their set undisturbed and basically herbed anyone else who had to shorten their rhyme time in the process. One thing's for sure. Them BK boys don't play. That night- they made ONYX and all those other pseudo-angry emcees look like Cub Scouts, feel me? So...all and together now: How About Some Hardcore?! Yeah we like it RAW !!!

The Car Gods Must Be Crazy

Approximately one month and roughly $1800 later, I am no closer to a well functioning vehicle. What. The. F*ck. It's warming up. Maybe I should just get my Rollerblade on. This wouldn't even be so frustrating if I felt the problem could be solved by the same shop I originally took it to. They obviously don't know their ass from their head gasket over there.

I always try to find the silver lining in every cloud- but it evades me on this one. The car won't stay on. The de-fogger won't work. The heat won't work. (Yes, it's spring time but I love heat, okay? It should work when I want it to.) And...Oh yeah. An ungodly noise emanates from the right front of the car each time I accelerate. Equal parts knocking and squeal. For all this, I should have kept that dough in my purse and copped a hooptie instead. I am...quite simply...seething. Now would be a good time to count my blessings. I know this. But right now I just feel like the stock boy in Superbad.


Signed,
This Furious & Exasperated Bug

Still, they dance.

He is...
an elegant tomcat
who doesn't pretend
he can love
one woman at a time.
She is...
whispered beyond
misted curtains.
Screening this world
from that.

Never the twain shall meet. But still...

How 'Bout That?

Hola Peoples. I'm coming off a "weak-end" or should I say a strong beginning that started on Friday. After a strong cocktail of laughter, alcohol, pain, debauchery and Hip-Hop blended perfectly- This Bug would like to share a few things she learned about herself and the world in three entirely too short days.


Women are by far more outrageous than men when it comes to strippers. If you've ever been privy to an 'exclusive' party- read: no club regulations, you know what I mean. Suffice to say that male dancers probably enjoy their jobs a helluva lot more than their female counterparts. In short- I think they get away with things that are probably illegal in most states and a few prudent countries. Ever seen a chick get her ass lit on fire? I mean...literally. He had to be violating a few Fire codes during that process. My memory card is holding enough blackmail to set me up for life as we speak. Did I mention there was a midget?


Before this weekend, I never knew how much the sight of a 13 year old appreciating Hip-Hop from my era could warm my heart. Seriously. I was touched. And this is not a passing curiosity, either. The boy goes IN. Perhaps the apple doesn't fall far from the tree after all. Who knows. It just pleases me to know that that kinda love lives on. Ain't no Old Skool. Ain't no New Skool. The boy is proof that there is only True Skool. "I used to live downtown! 129th Street." Next time you ask Young Blood, "What you know about that?!" give an open ear...you might be surprised at his response.


Everybody and their Momma will be looking for you at the party you committed to weeks earlier. So maybe you shouldn't drink so much at the stripper party previous engagement and there will be no need to clone yourself or send back numerous "I'm on my way" text messages to inquiring minds. I'm just sayin'...

After two wisdom teeth extractions, there is no comfort in knowing what's to come. I woke up this morning with one half of my face looking like Slappy Squirrel. I'm not sure if it was a reaction to the medication I was taking or how ineffectual I made it by guzzling Goose & Cran and few Jello "Shots" that were made in plastic syringes. (Don't ask.) But nothing compares to the real needle I will soon face. Yikes.


So that's my Weekend Wrap-up. Just a few things I took with me. And a few I'd like to leave behind. Did I mention there was a midget?




Photo Courtesy: Corbis

The Ice Queen Cometh

She needs no GPS to find her heart. She knows exactly where it is. And if one should find it frozen solid, be it known that it has been made that way by inclement conditions. Made cold by brutal winters and countless storms. Whipping winds that even the most fearless would brace themselves against. Snow and ice and rain and hail. Harsh elements have buried that heart over time. Unkind climates that most would marvel at- should they emerge alive. Frozen and cruelly thawed, only to freeze again. No mechanism can sustain such fluctuation and be expected to function properly. She is not heartless. It still beats, despite its frostbitten nature. Misshapen over time but it beats still. Faintly and thunderously all at once. Legend has it the Ice Queen melteth once... in archaic places, among familiar faces long gone. Her heart's whereabouts remain unknown. Funny. No one questions the Ice Queen's acclimation to her King; while she appears the coldest one of all.