Literary Genius


My senior year of high school I nearly failed English. My teacher wasn't very effective when it came to helping me with my technical difficulties. I have always been a master orator but writing is something I will always have to work on. I have great ideas but they don't translate well on paper. To make matters worse I was also a very slow reader, I ponder on every single word. I'm not sure where that orginated given that I started reading at 3 yrs old and spent my entire summers in the library.

This particular teacher, whose name I cannot currently recall, was very boring and didn't make AP English palatable in anyway. After I figured out I might not pass I just started sleeping in my car during her class and I would just do the assignments on my own.

Towards the end of the semester she assigned Richard Wright's "Native Sun" I read most of it but it is a pretty long novel and there just wasn't enough time to read it that week.

I had to write a paper on it and since I didn't finish reading it I just made it up. At the time I didn't know all that had befallen Bigger Thomas. If I had access to the internet I could have looked like a literary genius. The teacher was well aware that I didn't finish the book and gave me a D. I didn't care because she was easily the worst teacher I ever had.

Since then I have read almost all of Richard Wright's work, a literary genius. A few years ago I donated all my books by black authors to a high school here in DC. It was hard to give them up but I hoped that a student with an ineffective English teacher might pick up his work. Several times since then I have thought out repurchasing all of Mr. Wrights works. However, I opt for a contemporary work everytime.

In Oregon I found myself in a used bookstore as I was browsing I ran across a hardback copy of both Black Boy and Native Sun. I believe they were both original pressings. It felt good to have them both in my possession again. I'm thankful that I didn't let one person stop me from discovering great literature. I'm hopeful that some student in Anacostia high school will discover the same.

This morning I was up really early. As I flipped through the channels I noticed that one of my favorite bands, Ozomatli was performing. I watched the last of their concert and waited to see who was up next. Unfortunately the next person performing was Macy Gray. She is one of those singers I just don't get. If her life depended on singing on pitch she'd surely be at the pearly gates speaking to God himself.

I didn't change the channel as I wanted to see if I could finally understand. I now know that she is actually a great songwriter if she writes those songs. Also her band did a great job of surrounding her with beats and melodies to sing a long to. The other highlight was Kameelah Williams ,formerly the lead singer of 702, was one of her backup singers. If I was Ms. Williams I would be extremely annoyed that I had to sing back up for this hack. Ms. Williams got a few solo moments and she really stole the show. Her vocals are impeccable and I would welcome hearing more from her.

Macy does have a few strengths. She knows where to find good talent. She is the manager for Sunshine Anderson who I hear is coming out with a new album this fall. I hope she will be helping Kameelah Williams go solo as well. Also she's a decent actress. I enjoyed her roles in Training Day and Lackawanna Blues. I would prefer that she stick to artist management and acting where she really excels. I tend to like things that no one else likes and Macy's music seems rather unlikeable. Usually I can find something beautiful if I look hard enough. Not so. However, many people really enjoy her music and if it moves them I can't take that away.

What do you call your hairstyle?

It doesn't have a name, afro, naturally curly I guess.

Well you look Sidamo, girls from Sidamo wear their hair like that.

I never heard of it.

You've never been to Starbucks?

I don't go there often.

You boycotting?

No. I just don't really drink coffee.

Well if you do go try Sidamo. Since you look Sidamo I am sure you will like it.

Happy Mothers Day

It is one of the hardest days of the year for me. I won't sit here and make yall sad. At the end of it all I use this day to remember that she was a survivor and I am thankful that I was given 22 extra years to have her in my life.


So call her, see her, love her, cherish her.

Baron Davis....there is nothing more to say than, Go South Central! This is like watching Akeelah and the Bee, except it's the NBA finals.

I'm very surprised that I am able to post this blog. I am currently in Pendleton, Oregon. Population 16,000; Black population 200. I saw only two black people in my stay. Right now I am sitting in the smallest airport I have ever been in. Yesterday I would have told you that the Pasco, WA airport was the smallest airport I have visited but no Pendleton, Orgeon takes. It has only one airline Horizon and one rental car company Hertz. Currently I seem to be the only passenger for my flight that leaves in about an hour. I knew there wouldn't be a security line but I didn't think that security would be closed until twenty minutes before the flight.

I had about three hours to kill before my flight so I attempted to do something cultural. They have a large Native American population and there is this tour of an underground city they built way back when. I got there at 3:30pm and the last tour had already left. Then I tried to walk over to their museum but it was closing in 30 mins and I wasn't giving up six dollars for 30 mins. So then I just drove around a bunch. I started to stop at the public library but I kept driving and found Walmart. I have never been so happy to see Walmart before. I thought for sure I could kill an hour just browsing. Despite being a Walmart supercenter, the women's clothing section was itty bitty. I then tried the book section but the selection of Sudoku books left a lot to be desired. I was getting kind of hungry but I knew there had to be a local place I could eat. I didn't want to eat at Chu Man Fu Chinese or Taco Bell. So drove around downtown some more when I spotted Main Street. This Main Street was just like you see in the movies. Small stores and what was probably a really thriving area before the advent of Walmart. I then spot Great Pacific Wine and Beer and decide to stop and get a bite to eat. It was a neat little cafe that served pizza, sandwiches and of course wine and beer. Being on the west coast you can get great avacado so I opted for a sandwich with avocado. You also had a choice to get mayo or a dijon yogurt sauce instead. I had never heard of that kind of sauce but anything has to be better than mayo and it was. The sandwhich was very good and they had an excellent wine selection. You could tell it was a place where the more affluent locals hung out. Probably the professors of the local college.

I drove a little further down main street and I discovered JCPenney. I couldn't believe they actually had a department store. Well not the way we think of it. It was super tiny but it was interesting that they actually had it. I was starting to think the only place to buy clothing was walmart.

I'm at the airport on my way to Medford Oregon. I opened my computer to do some work and to my astonishment they have free wireless internet. Yay Pendleton. It has allowed me to write this nice entry. I need to do this more often because I have lots of adventures but before I write one I'm on to the next. I'm going to try to pen something on the food I have eaten in the last two weeks.

"I'm friends with all my exes"
"Well me, I'm not. I don't speak to them and I have no idea where they are"

Thanks to the internet specifically, Myspace, I have gotten back in touch with two people I dated over ten years ago. It all started with a high school friend sending me a message. This guy just happened to look extremely similar to the guy that I dated most of high school. That prompted me to look him up on myspace. I had completely lost his whereabouts and our high school has seemed to stop having reunions. Since he had a rather unique last name, I thought it would be easy to find him. Low and behold there he is. I now know that he is married to what appears to be, for the purposes of this tale, the other girl. It was kind of neat to see where he ended as I often wondered what happened. I probably wouldn't really like Wu-Tang or Outkast if he didn't introduce me to them. We started dating when I was 13 and broke up for the final time when I was 17. That's an enternity in high school years. There were no real hard feelings way back then. He doesn't know this but a lot of who I am today is a result of that relationship.

This whole interaction led me re-tally the score in one particular realm of life. As I have mention before in this blog, when my relationship ends the dude gets married within 6 months. Well I had no idea what happened to him therefore he was the only wildcard. He got married after me too. The girl he married was one of those uber nice girls so I had a feeling that he would get back together with her way back then. That was just an inkling I had in 1996. It was right but I didn't extrapolate that to marriage because who gets married to someone they met in highschool? Well he did! However I don't know the time frame in which they got married. It doesn't matter because I'm still counting this one in my record.

Now just yesterday I get a message from an ex that I had not thought about in a very long time. Actually he came up during thanksgiving because B also has a friend who tells people he played sports at the university of spoiled children. Total bullshit from both of them. Yhey never even applied to the university or any university for that matter. I spoke of him and then his memory left my mind. The message said "Let's see if you can figure out who this is. It is the person who gave you the nickname Ishari." It's been about 10 years since he blessed me with that nickname, a combination of my first and middle names. To this day a few people still call me that. It's a part of my email and my aim name. Despite having that name stuck to me forever, he rarely comes to mind. So we are doing the requiste small talk but I wonder what made him look me up. We broke up on very strange terms and barely spoke after that.

I thought he started the trend "leave Aisha and quickly marry" but apparently he was the second. Since we were neighbors, a guy who lived on his street told my sister that he was married. I was shocked and confused at the time. I've come to terms now with the scenario because it's so familiar now. I've had a bad habit of getting back together with my exes. So I've surmised that have to get married or the toxic relationship will come back to life. Sounds good right?

This whole thing has made me think about how much I've grown up. In some ways I'm the same but I'm so much wiser and i have a lot more integrity. There is a link to my blog on my myspace so they just might be lurkin. So if you are reading this, hi guys.

I spent the past week in Louisiana on work related business but none of it would take me to New Orleans. I decided it was worth it stay an extra 36 hours to go to Jazzfest and to see New Orleans for myself. My time in New Orleans was brief but there was no way I was leaving with out seeing the Katrina damage for myself. At happy hour last week, a woman named Kate recommended that I go on the “Katrina Tour”. I was shocked that a tour company would have something like this. She assured me that it was not exploitive at all and that it had a profound impact on her. Reluctantly I paid my $35 because I wasn’t sure if it was safe enough for me to try and drive around by myself. The media will tell you it’s the “Wild Wild South” but I didn’t want to attempt to prove them wrong.

I booked the tour and it would be the last thing I would do before I left town. Earlier that morning as I was driving from my appointment I ran into some homes with significant damage. The closer I got to Lake Ponchatrain the more damage I observed. Street signs at odd angles from wind damage. The stores that were open had mylar banners indicating so; if you drove too quickly you would think they were out of business. There was a house that looked like no one had touched it in two years which was probably true. The mold covered the entire facade and the grass untouched. The windows were blown out so I pulled over and peaked in. The furniture was strewn all over and you could see the extensive water damage on everything in sight. It didn’t appear that the family who previously inhabited the dwelling had returned to retrieve anything. Actually, there was nothing to retrieve. An entire history lost to the storm surge and to the incompetence of our government for the last 30 years.

On every block there were several homes just like this one. The symbols from the rescuers still graffiti home after home. As I viewed the numerous symbols I tried to remember what it meant. The storm hit on 8-29 and every home was dated with somewhere between 9-14 and 9-24. Their homes weren’t checked for at least 15 days after the storm. Fortunately the number on the bottom on the X was always 0. Which means they did not find anybody dead in that particular home. They all escaped, fortunately.

The news has focused on the lower 9th ward, where there was total devastation and where many of the stranded poor black residents resided. I went through every part of town, rich, poor, large homes, small homes. Every one of them with a rescue squad symbol and a waterline. Each home featured a gray, brown or rust colored line that told the story. The waterline, the point where the flood water settled ranged from 2 feet to about 16 feet. This doesn’t include the 20 to 26 foot surge. Many one story homes had the rescue symbol on the roof indicating that when the home was checked the water was so high they probably checked it by boat. I passed by many two story homes with their first floors engulfed with quickly rising water.

Then there were the holes in the roofs, the attempts to save themselves from the rapidly rising water only to be me stuck in 100 degree without food, water, or a radio to find out what is going on. Even though the French Quarter survived how can you stay in a town with no electricity, no potable water, no police force?

Many people are back in town now. For every home you see untouched, you see at least one with a trailer in front. I even found a block where every home had a trailer in front. You also see numerous “Katrina Villages”, parking lots that have been turned into trailer parks. The trailers are very small, although we joke about them, they could at least give them a double wide. You also see the little red flags marking spaces where trailers are to come but haven’t arrived yet, two years later.

Finally there was light at the end of the tunnel. After passing by Fats Domino’s house we turned the corner to see two blocks of bright pastel rebuilt houses. These houses were a part of Musicians Village. Habitat for Humanity and Harry Connick Jr. started a project where they are building houses for displaced musicians. They get interest free loans and they must put 350 hours of sweat equity into the home. We rounded another corner and there was a family on the porch. They waved and clapped and they were happy to see the tourbus. Their house was in the middle of renovations but I saw three generations of New Orleanians enjoying a nice day in April. This was the end of the tour and I had slipped into a depression. Seeing those people happy with what they had brought tears to my eyes.

My camera battery died early during the tour so the links represent some of the areas where houses are still standing. In many places, whole neighborhoods have been lost. It was probably for the best because I stopped trying to get the best shot and just took it all in.

We rode around for 3 hours and I have no idea how many miles we covered but we covered many. The area impacted was much bigger than I could have ever imagined. I have heard many people talk about how the recovery is going slow. Now that I see that it’s much bigger than what we see on TV, I can’t see how they can go any faster. With so many people not returning, no insurance money for homeownwers to rebuild and no help for displacd renters I understand why it is the way it is. Almost every home in the city has some damage. New Orleans is much bigger than DC but if every home in DC was destroyed I can’t see it all being rebuilt that fast given that there isn’t any precedent for the situation. We didn't have a plan. Whatever plan they did come up with will not make everyone happy because there are always winners and losers. I want to go back soon. One to do more tourist things and volunteer. Everyone needs to see it for themselves because there is no way to understand the magnitude of what happened the day the leeves broke.

Girl Interupted:Blog Neglected

For the next month, as well as last month, my travel schedule is crazy. Every other week I am out of town on work related business. There are several things I want to write about but I just can't find the time to do it. I'm writing this just to do although there are stories to tell and things ponder. I'll see you all next week.

As many of you know, I spend a fair amount of time perusing the web. Today everyone is talking about the VA Tech incident. As with everything people move away from the actually facts to the policital and social aspects. So today some posed the question "Are Asians embarrassed?". The point the person was trying to make is that black people have internalized so much racism that when things like this happen we secrectly hope and pray the person isn't black. We really worry how the actions of one person effects the rest of us. I completely agree with that point.

However, where it went astray for me is that have several close relationships with Asian people and I know that their communtiy is devasted as well. Now Asians don't secretly pray "it won't be them" because racist executives don't even portray them in the media, negatively or positively. I think many asian people will be embarassed because "we don't do that sort of thing." They are equally concerned about their image as are Black people. I can't tell you how so many of my Asian friends haven't lived their dreams because they are afraid of what the extended family will think of them. I know these aren't isolated incidents, Berkeley is like 55% Asian and my highschool was like 40% Asian.

While I get the point the person was trying to make and I thank him for making it, the behavior he was referencing is found

The official "How not to holla" blog....

http://dontbesilent3.blogspot.com/

People think I make this shit up. Street harrassment is so real in DC. I make light of it on this blog but it's a serious problem.

The Best of DC

A friend of a friend does restaurant reviews for dcist.com and I am so jealous. So right here, right now I'll stop being jealous and take a turn at it myself.

Last night after a marathon meeting for one of my community endeavors we ventured out to the U Street corridor for a cheap but satisfying meal. We eventually settled on Polly's Cafe. I haven't been to Polly's in about two years and I didn't remember being moved by anything other than the apple crisp.

Polly's is a very small restaurant in the basement of a brownstone and it doesn't seat very many people. When we arrived we were cramped at a table that was oddly placed in the middle of the floor where nearly everyone brushed me as they walked by. It was also very dark as I could barely read the menu. Myself and my companion settled on ordering the turkey burgers with a side of spicy coleslaw. In addition, I ordered a glass of sangria to help me wind down.

The sprite my friend ordered was more like seltzer water. My sangria was just okay but I wasn't expecting much from a place that probably more focused on beer. Our turkey burgers came and I was surprised by their size. The burgers were somewhere between 1/3 and 1/2 pound with accompaniments so large I would think they were genetically modified. The burger itself was very well seasoned and not dry as turkey burgers tend to be. The spicy slaw was indeed spicy almost too spicy but it was a unique take on a dish that I usually don't care for.

I don't usually have favorites because it's hard for me to give that honor to anyone. However, I think Polly's has the best turkey burger in DC. The only downside is that Polly's is cash only and not too many people carry cash these days. It feels very much like a neighborhood place unlike many of the newer establishments that are in the area and prices aren't that bad either.

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I've been on a businesstrip/vacation for the past week. Apparently I missed when Don Imus insulted the Rutgers women's basketball team. As I was waiting around in the Detroit airport, FoxNews informed me that he refered to the team as "nappy headed hoes." I was outraged at his comment and more than an apology was needed.

However, I feel conflicted. Recently Ludacris released the song "Runaway Love" and I everytime I hear it I think "I really wish he would go back to bitches and hoes." Don Imus didn't just pull the phrase out of his ass...he's heard it somewhere. Probably from Ludacris. I'm not blaming hip hop but... Don Imus is dead wrong but let's put it in context.

Boundaries

So today was going great. I got my hair did. I went to lunch with my father and talked to my uncle for a few minutes. Then I went inside with my father to try to ask him some questions about his life since I am trying to write his biography. Well out of no where he wants to talk about his love life. So for 45 minutes he tells me about all the trials and tribulations of his life. He talks about the ladyfriend he really loves, the one who needs validation by meeting me and another one with issues. For 30 of the 45 minutes he was digging around for some piece of paper to show me. So after a while I asked him what he was looking for and he told me it was a letter he wrote her on valentine's day. I told him to stop looking for it . I sat on the couch and I damn near cried because I was incredicably uncomfortable with him telling me about his love life. There are boundaries that I need to maintain with him. You can't wait until I am 28 years old and all of the sudden you want to talk about relationship yours or mine. I didn't reallly talk to my mother about these things either. So at about minute 45 he switches gears and starts to tell him what love is. He does this by asking me questions about Brent. I pretendend they were rhetorical and didn't answer anything. At about minute 48 when I really thought I was going to start crying because I wanted him to stop. I just said, "you are belaboring" the point. Then I made an excuse and said I needed to leave.

I havent seen my dad in 6 months and I hated to end my day long visit on this note not knowing when I would see him again. For my sanity I needed to leave the situation. I think I'll call him right now and apologize for my abrupt departure.

Welcome to the Yay!

The plane ride from Baltimore to Oakland was long and horrid. I got a nonstop for convenience on southwest because every other flight had a connection. After today, I really think I might actually be a fan of the short layover. You get to stretch and get something to eat. Also if you have a 2 year old kicking your seat and smelling like shit, you get a chance to have at least half your flight go better.

I'm in my hotel in Oakland, CA waiting for my coworker to arrive. I wanted to leave and go to the Burrito Shop since I ate there at least once a week when I was going to school. I thought it wouldn't be wise decision since she would be arriving soon and we still need finish up a few loose ends before the morning. An hour later and she still hasn't arrived. I doubt I will get to satisfy my burrito craving so I am kinda upset. However, I found Top Dog. Top Dog is where I discovered the chicken apple sausage nearly a decade ago. At the time I didn't eat beef or pork so being apple to eat chicken sausages was great (yes i know the casing was pork). I got a Lemon Chicken today which was my second favorite sausage. They grill them just right and put them on this delicious bread. I haven't been back in Oakland for at least 5 years and I am kind of sad that I will only be here for 24 hrs.

I was on the plane trying to figure out what my favorite bay area restaurant was. I don't know if I have one since during college you can't really afford to eat well. I remember eating lots of burritos, crepes, Thai, pizza and "smart fries".



Operation Stunna Shades continues

I forgot to put my shades on when I left the plane which had disastrous consequences. I was approached by a 65 year man who wanted to chat. We talked about DC because his son went to Howard Law and worked on the hill. Innocent enough I thought. Then he started hitting on me. He had a cane and his eyes looked hella glossy like he just smoked a blunt or something. He was completely invading my space. However, none of this would have ever happened if I had of remembered to put my glasses on.

Operation Stunna Shades

This week I have been trying an experiment. I bought some sunglasses that are more glamourous than I am. They aren't expensive but they have that star quality eventhough I purchased them in Rocky Mount, NC. They have been nicknamed my "Stunna Shades". Don't know what a stunna is...well think about David Blaine the stunt artist. Why does he do all those crazy things? Just to show off. So for this spring and summer i'm a Stunna and "i'm bout to show off".

I've been trying to reduce the number of people who feel it is okay to randomly talk to me. First I tried headphones but my hair is so big they never realize that I have headphones on. I don't like people thinking I really can't hear them because that's how people get attacked and purses stolen.

This week I started Operation "Stunna Shades". I'm testing the hypothesis that wearing these sunglasses makes me look unaproachable and less men will aproach me. It's Wednesday and the only thing that has happened is a hiss which was ignored because when you have Stunna Shades it means you can't hear it. Also the first day I didn't wear them in the metro but I noticed that other women do. So I started wearing them in the metro but it feels weird because it's kind of dark down there and they aren't needed to block the sun anymore. However, If I want to maximize the effect of Operation Stunna Shades I have to wear them whenever I am outside my home which includes the metro. Yesterday I even read my Metro free paper with the Stunna Shades on. However, the point of the Stunna Shades is make people think that you have lost all your senses as soon as the glasses go on. So I guess I can't read on the train or it negates the point of my operation. I'm going to continue to keep track of this especially as the big, bulky, winter clothing comes off.

Since Operation Stunna Shades is going so well I don't have a "How not holla." Sadly, something much worse happened today. I went to work pretty late today so there were plenty of seats on the metro. I rarely sit down because I only go two stops. I sat down today and a short porty man in his signature red and black TGIF friday uniform moves towards the pole near me. There were plenty of other places to stand or sit but he chose to stand right in front of me. I previously had been staring at the floor but when he got close I rose my head up to eye level. At eye level, I noticed that he was tenting, he had a hard on. At that moment I was secretly hoping that my Stunna Shades truly did turn off all my senses

Finally I have returned...

I wrote a couple of posts that disappeared into the blogger graveyard. I'm sure they were both funny, witty and fabulous but I have no idea what they were. Only thing I really remember is the "How not to holla" that happened to me two weeks ago. In summary I was told "I'm so happy to be able to stand next to you."

Now for the more current events! I am working with a group on the HIV/AIDS epidemic in DC. Today we held a discussion group about social factors that lead to HIV. There was this group of men from a community based organization there. A few of them were in my group and we had a lively discussion. One in particular J had the Gary Dourdan look. His arms were very muscular and they accented his tattoo just right. So after the formal discussion I asked them where they were from. They were all currently in a drug treatment program. *record scratch*.

I know this is pretty ignorant of me but I completely buy into the stereotype about drug users who have problems serious enough to warrant enrolling into a program. I'm basically reminded the drooling crack head who tried to kiss me 4 years ago. There were no outward signs that they were in drug treatment program and I would have never figured out they were former users if I hadn't asked. All the points they were making were on point and I learned a few things about drug and gun policy from them.

So after that knowledge I looked at J differently. I shouldn't have been looking that hard to be begin with. I started looking at his arms to see if there were track marks. I can get a little out of control with my stereotypes. As he was leaving he reminded me that his phone number was on his sign in sheet. I giggled to myself.

I needed the reminder about not judging a book by its cover as this is something I am really struggling with right now. I'm trying to make more authentic contact with people who aren't like me. I think I can learn a lot and get over some of the "isms" I hold.

Blogger ate my last two post. So I'll be back with something after this business trip. Toodles!

Today in Sports

I just returned from the Wizards vs. Warriors game. My old boss from two years ago called me to let me know that if I was available that a friend and I could join him in his company's box. Being new to Washington, I took the chance to go and see my new favorite team live. I wasn't going to pass it up. I called a few of my guy friends that I knew were sports fans but they weren't available. Then I remembered that G was from Oakland and of course he would be down to see the Warriors.

Sitting in the box was great. Someone had already set it out with hotdogs, salad, chips and chicken finger. Well that's really not settin' out but you know, free is free! It was unfortunate that this was my vegetarian week and I got side tracked already by the chicken fingers. Then "The Giant", 7 ft 7in, Gheorghe Muresan stopped by to hang with us for a second. I got to catch up with G and J and that was great. You know how I like to talk.

Just when we thought the game is over with just .1 seconds and down three points the wizards draw a foul. It was a pretty uneventful game but we now had a chance to tie the game. Then the coach for the Warriors said something that caused a technical. With this turn of events Agent Zero was able to come through in the clutch to shoot 3 free throws to win the game. The crowd went wild! In other news my boo boo got a couple of fouls in the first five minutes so he wasn't really in the game too much.

Now for the Faux Pas of the game:
They start playing Rich Boy's "Throw some D's" and I comment how the NBA can play the popular hip hop songs but then blame hip hop for everything that's wrong. G listens to underground hip hop so he doens't know who Rich Boy is. So I say "Well it's really funny because he looks like he has Down Syndrome." Then I quickly remember that there are two kids sitting in the box with us who have Down Syndrome. Add one to the loss column for me.

The "How not to holla" of the day:
I got behind schedule and I ended up driving the mile to the Verizon Center because I knew I could get my gym to validate my parking. Now today is the first time in a long time that I have worn my hair down. I guess I was looking extra fabulous or something (well this is what I'm telling myself). I luck up and get a parking space on the street one block from the arena. I get out the car and this dude is sitting on the hydrant and I think I hear him say "Wow you got lucky." I thought he was talking about my parking space. I turn around and say "Yeah I'm really lucky." He replies "Yeah your man sho' is lucky." Then I snapped out of my parking mojo induced haze and realize he's commenting on me.

I keep walking and start to wonder how efficient his process is. I am very well aware that some men play the numbers game. Talk to as many women as possible hoping one will bite. If you are going to talk to women on the street don't talk to the ones who are walking fast. Based on the law of averages she's in a hurry and not going to stop to speak to you. We are even less likely to speak to the guy sitting on the fire hydrant in front of Fuddruckers. I've said it once and I'll say it again. There are some people who are just not on my level. Give them a shower and a job sure but in thier current state it's not going to happen.

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I want us all to say NO to white tights! After being away from DC for two years I forgot how truly fashioned challenged people are. I see way too many adult women in white tights and stockings. It's really ugly and sad on top of it all. If you are my friend and you own white tights please say goodbye to them or I will have to say goodbye to you. I only hang with fly people. I'm err umm kidding...maybe.



I'm also trying to figure out exactly how this type of pose protects your hair from the rain. Yesterday the rain came a bit earlier than expected and a few people were caught off gaurd. I saw various black women running from the rain in this pose. If I were them I would have caught a cab or walked into the CVS they just passed and got a cheap umbrella. I remember what it was like to make sure your hair stayed on point.



Now what do these things have in common? Usually nothing but at the gym this white blonde woman with bone straight hair was combing her hair with a afropic. It was the oddest things I had seen in a very long time. She didn't have a sign of kink so I wanted to inquire about her choice.