And if ya don't know- now ya know

The following was written under duress. Well, that's not entirely true. I've been low on energy, mojo and blog topics lately. There. I said it. And then my bee-yoo-ti-ful Cuz sends this my way. I've been tagged and so, here we are. A special thanks to Kari for greasing the wheels. Let's do this.

20 random things, shortcomings, facts, habits or goals this year:


1. It's not impossible to feel like a Queen without having a King at your side, but it surely makes a difference when you do. Everywhere begins to look like your kingdom.




2. I have always been insecure about my smile. Always.




3. Tending bar taught me more about the human condition in 3 short years than I could have hoped to learn in a lifetime.



4. (Spoiler Alert) I am moved to tears every time I watch the last 5 minutes of the movie Hair.




5. The very first time I got stumbling, shitfaced drunk was on Manischewitz wine. I was 11 years old. Shhhh...


6. It is my personal mission to meet Cee Lo Green and beg him to cover War's The World Is A Ghetto. If you know the song...and his voice- then you know this is right for the Universe.



7. My first kiss was with a boy in school who is now an openly gay man. A ridiculously irrational part of me still wonders if I was responsible for this in some way.

8. I've decided in 2009 that I don't want to get paid to do anything but write. Yeah.



9. The sign should simply read "Hot Crack Now". Krispy Kreme is the devil...and I need Jesus.



10. When my hair is straight I feel very astute- as though I look like I take myself too seriously. When it's wild or curly- I feel free-spirited, sexy and breezy.



11. Going to Jamaica and not sampling the "chief" export would have been like going to Paris and not trying the Champagne. Why would I do such a thing?





12. The quickest way to turn me off is to talk about money in attempts to impress me.


13. FYI: Nas and I share a beauty mark in the same place. Yessiree.



14. Unless I'm at a Day Spa, manicures and pedicures feel more like a chore than pampering to me. Ugghh!


15. Car accidents and rodents frighten me beyond human comprehension.



16. I've found that when most people say that I favor a celebrity, it's less about facial similarities and more about my hairstyle that particular day.






15. This Bug has never been arrested charged for a crime in her life. Knock wood.



18. In 2001, I stopped reading palms because I felt like I was interfering with the natural order of certain things.



19. Whenever I see something painful, my chocolate starfish hurts for just a millisecond. Wait, was that TMI?




20. I firmly believe there is a Muppet equivalent for every person out there.


And now, in keeping with said tagging inspiration, I nominate the Sweetest Tea from over at the Lion's Share. She may or may not comply...

I (never) got busy in a Burger King bathroom

Through pride we are ever deceiving ourselves. But deep down below the surface of the average conscience a still, small voice says to us, 'Something is out of tune.' -Carl Jung

I know a lot of people. People from different walks of life. Far be it from me to judge others and their dealings. Once I was driving through Queens with my dad and pointed out just about every strip club I had visited or planned to. I know that may sound strange, but I have the coolest Pops ever so that sort of thing is not so left of center to discuss when it comes to us. If anyone has been paying attention, strip clubs are nice little diversion from the average sports bar to This Bug. Nothing more. He joked that I have friends in both high and low places. To me, I just have friends in all over places. Period. What one person does, the next may not- but that has no bearing on who they are at the core to me. And truly, the core is all that I'm interested in.

I say that to say this: Freaky antics are not a deal breaker for me. There is a time and place for everything under the sun. I subscribe to the school of thought that there is no such thing as "never" and no such thing as "always". More often than not, if you want to make sure that something actually happens- be sure to preface it by saying you would never do it, whatever it may be. In my eyes, never is promise that cannot always be kept. By the way, I don't want anyone to be mislead by the title of this post. There are a lot of things that I have not done...yet. And there are a few that I just don't ever see myself doing. I do not see myself getting busy in a Burger King bathroom like Humpty any time in the future. Aside from public restrooms being germ-ridden and the least attractive place one can get intimate, I usually just want to get my Whopper Jr. with cheese and keep it moving.

There are some folks out there who claim that they just like to do their thing. That's fine with me. I've seen a lot and heard most of it. It takes a helluva lot to make me clutch my pearls. What I have an issue with are those same people projecting their own self judgments onto others when they are not so proud of their own behavior. When reputations start preceding folks rather than following them- I find that they are on the defensive unnecessarily. A guilty conscience can wreak immeasurable havoc. Like Andre 3000 said, "Whatever floats your boat or finds your lost remote..." Embrace it. Live it. Rock out with your cock out. (Okay, blushing just a tad) But please- don't assume that everyone is whispering just because you freak off on the regular. Just examine your own truth and make the proper adjustments as needed.

Now if you'll excuse me, This Bug has to go make change of a $20 bill.




Photo Courtesy: Corbis

Black Magic Eclipse

It is quite possible that
the Voodoo Man saw her
before she saw herself.
Third eye opening slowly
against the night's revelries.
An eclipse moving across
all sensible space and time.

Dismissing the unnecessary-
observing the undeniable.
Breaking ice, atoms, careless waves
and conventional wisdom.

It is quite possible that
the Gypsy Lady saw him
before he saw himself
in the year of the
gathering moon.
Speaking healing words
of which there is
no rhyme or recollection.
She listened.


Come come, now. Come closer.
Together in daylight-
but the night loves anything
that moves
mysteriously.

Casting spells and sparking forest fires
in each others name.
Drinking from inspired wells-
for what is more precious
than water?

Stirring only sweetness
into galvanized cauldrons.
Weaving perfumed music.
A mass of warm energy
holds them perfectly.

Seeing well above perforated skies
and far beyond
flesh failures.
Darting in and out of secondary worlds.

The Voodoo Man.
The Gypsy Lady.
Tomorrow's children
in unexpected playgrounds.

Ya'll Gon' Make Him Lose His Mind

(Sigh) Where do I begin? It's 17 days into the new year and DMX is scoffing at the idea of wearing pink prison issued underthings and socks. He finds it "ridiculous". Looking soft should really be the least of his worries. If I were him, I'd be trying to figure out what wrong turn I made that landed me in an Arizona big house. I've seen his most recent interview. He doesn't seem to know where he went wrong, either. It's crazy because I look at him now and he's just plain ole Earl Simmons to me. All of that growling bravado is gone. At this point, he just seems lost and truthfully a little bugged out. He reminds me of the dude from around the way back in the day that could just never get right. You'd hear about him robbing a Blockbuster or something , get locked up, come home and then go right back in for doing something even more foolish. Wash. Rinse. Repeat cycle. Yeah, that guy. It's actually sort of heartbreaking. All I know is that he's the same dude that went to JFK airport to carjack somebody by stating that he was a 'government agent'. C'mon now, DMX may look like a lot of things, but a federal agent of any denomination sure ain't one of 'em. Unlike one of his previous videos, that was no case of mistaken identity. He did it. I can't call it- but it sounded like some real "crackish" behavior to me. So let's Party Up for DMX since he's busy decrying the injustice of having to wear what should be tightie-whities but are now an emasculating shade of Cherry Blossom. I just know he's barking at somebody for that shit. Now would be a good time for Cam'ron to send DMX a kite and let the god know that real dudes can rock the shit outta some pink, Fam! Killah...

To All the Toys I Loved Before

Recently I was strolling down Memory Lane via some old photo albums from my childhood and it was pointed out to me that every year Christmases were good to me. Really good. Like, every year. At first I protested but the longer I looked- the truer it became. On almost every page are pictures of me surrounded by mountains of festive wrapping paper. You have to look closely to find me at the center of all of it- proudly brandishing the next new indulgence. I have to say that by no means was I a spoiled child. Let's clear that up right now. I just so happen to be the baby, which ordinarily by default would mean I was spoiled. Not so. You see, there is a considerable age difference between myself and two older sisters (who are only one year apart) and for that reason, I was left to my own devices. My parents seemed to understand that, which explains why Christmases were so good. They just didn't want me to be lonely or bored. Lord help them if I got bored. Kidding!

So this stroll I took made me think of all the toys I had over the years. A few stand out to me and it's those that I want to share with you. I can't be the only one who delighted in these 80's throwbacks so...let's do this, shall we?

Simon Says

I attribute a lot of my hand-eye coordination today to this nifty little gadget of yesteryear. What can I say. It made cool noises and had primary colors. Kept me occupied for hours... or so it seemed.


Cabbage Patch Kids

Okay, I'll be honest here. These dolls were ugly and I never liked them. But they were all the rage and my parents seemed to think I deserved one. It came with an official birth certificate and a signature stitched into the ass for authenticity. Not making that up, Folks. I could have lived without this mush-mouthed doll but I was never ungrateful. They also had a very specific smell. It was weird. Like that new car smell you come to know as an adult. They were probably pumped full of chemicals for all I know.

Operation

This was my shit! Another coordination honer. I loved this game! The toughest removal was the Charlie Horse. The Funny Bone was no cakewalk either. It was this game that made me realize that my father missed his calling as a surgeon. He made it look effortless. Seriously.


Atari 2600

This was more like a gift for my sisters than myself, but I still got a lot of run on it. I was sick with Pitfall! and Missile Command. My middle sister was the reigning Pacman queen in our household for a long time. She had a way of laying in the cut and letting all the ghosts get right up on her before she ate a power pellet and took them all out in one fell swoop. Sometimes she took too long. They ate her. She got pissed. We laughed at her. She got really pissed. We laughed harder.

Teddy Ruxpin

This adorable storytelling bear was so very charming. The best part of his charm was when I took out the story tapes he came with and popped in my sister's UTFO tape instead. To watch his lips rhyme the words to Roxanne, Roxanne was something that made my day. Ditto for Doug E. Fresh's La Di Da Di. "You can't have me. I'm too young for you, B*tch." His eyes rocked back and forth like he was really feelin' it, too. Ah...good times.

Etch-A-Sketch

Try as I may, I was never able to master this one. I recently played with one my nephew had and I still cannot create anything more recognizable than the New York City skyline. And by skyline I mean two identical buildings that resemble the Twin Towers and one on a slant that passes for the Chrysler building if you close one eye and hold it upside-down.

Plastic Charm Necklaces

Mannn...Listen. You couldn't tell me nuthin'! I was a Fly Girl when these hit the scene. I had every charm you could think of. It made no sense. This is when my mild OCD started revealing itself to me by the way. I didn't care if they were different colors. I couldn't have the lipstick charm right next to the tennis racket. You had to have a theme, Dammit! And that took some time to make happen. Perhaps too much time.

Anyway, I can go on but I think that might nullify the point I was trying to make about not being spoiled. For the record, my definition of a spoiled child is not one who has a gaggle of toys to play with and wants for nothing. It's a child who is never satisfied and believes that they should have something simply because they desire it. I was no Veruca Salt. That was never my mindset as a child. I was always pleasantly surprised and very grateful inside and out. Except for when I got that hideous Cabbage Patch Doll. Shhh...don't tell anyone.

Dogs are great. Change is better.

I have always said that there are two types of people in this world. Dog People and Cat People. For the better part of my life I preferred the former. See, my rationale is that people who like dogs are more loyal and trustworthy than sly and sneaky cat...people. I know I'm painting things with an enormously broad brush, but it's just the way I felt for a long time. Let's examine the traits of cats for a moment. They are quiet. Which is fine...until you catch them lurking silently in a corner, eyes glinting and just clocking...you. It has happened to me before and I can honestly say it freaked me the hell out. Cats are moody creatures. I hate that. At least with a dog, some consistency is shown.. If they look mean and bark like the three-headed Cerberus today, chances are that's what you'll get tomorrow. But cats will let you stroke their coat for what seems to be forever in your lap and then suddenly turn around and hiss at you. You may even get a scratch or two. Scary stuff.

Anyway, this is less about a person's pet preferences and more about how growing older purports change. It may be something on a definitive scale or it can be something gradual. Either way, inwardly you feel a shift and just know that you've grown a bit. Certain things require more of a thought process than say, ten years ago. And then there are those other things in life. Things that fly in the face of all conventional wisdom but somehow makes perfect sense. Lately, these things are revealing themselves to me in increments. I once asked someone I knew what defined them. Their answer? Time. I must admit I found this reply most off-putting. It annoyed me. In my mind, we are ALL defined by time. What we do with it, what it does to us and everything in between. It seemed like grab-bag answer at best, but it makes sense to me now. Some things deep within are only revealed with time.

Now, I must say that I have been and will probably always be a Dog Person. Puppies are cuter than kittens and at the end of the day- I can't have anything around me that I don't trust. That holds true for cats, people, situations...you get the idea. But I feel a shift. Perhaps I am a little bit of both, simply shape-shifting between this functional world of conventional wisdom and a world of unfathomable astral circumstance . And while I may never be a Cat Person per se, I have to marvel at how much I now appreciate the feline's talent for balance and soundless movement. Time has shown me that I have the instinct to land on my feet. That I can climb as high as my own autonomy takes me. Time has done nothing to dull my loyalty, but a cat's independence is something to admire- and I feel the same way for the first time, just beneath the surface. Only time has revealed that duality to me. I can only wonder what else is in store. Those brave butterflies that flutter by in your ribcage when you realize that you are getting closer to your purpose.

Rawr...

For the Fallen and Heaven's Ascenders

This post is not political. This post is not post-racial. This post is not meant to stir the pot. I write these words to make sense out of the absurd. I write these words to bring myself closer to comprehending atrocities that did not begin yesterday; and will not end tomorrow. I write these words, heavyhearted and dismayed for yet another life cut needlessly short. I write these words for Oscar Grant. If you have never heard of Oscar Grant, you can learn about him here. His name may be forgotten less than a year from now, but there is a permanence about the manner in which he died that marks us all. This is the ugly tear in our social fabric. It has yet to be stitched. Oscar Grant. Amadou Diallo. Anthony Baez. James Byrd. Sean Bell. Names. Just a drop in the well of lives that were drained violently by racial injustice. So whether it was a fatal choke hold or 41 shots- one thing remains true; these lives were expended with little or no accountability whatsoever. This is our past. This is the future. This is the reality. As brusque or dismal as that may sound- it is the undisputed truth. This much I'll say. Yes, I am angry. Yes, I'm wide awake. No, we are not extinct. We have lived to count another day. I understand all too well that today may be all we get. Through my veins pulses the blood of resilience that my people possess. All we know is how to push on. There is no 'quit' in us. We know no other way. And there is a sobering, tragic beauty in that. FOR OSCAR FOR US LEST WE FORGET