samedi, janvier 29, 2005

Comedy Central

O.K. So we won't discuss why I'm home on a Saturday night well O.K. maybe I will. I promise y'all I'm going to Table 50 tomorrow night (check December 17, 2004 post for back story) and this time I'm on the guestlist. Anyway after the knowlegde dropping of the NAACP Black Solidarity Conference and my inability to connect with Sharene and Courtney I'm at home contemplating catching up on my writing to meet a 5:00 pm deadline tomorrow.

Anyway so I'm watching Comedy Central and there's some funny mofos on the TV screen. Paul Gilmartin and Dan Allen. Dan's poem about vegans which I proudly call myself(ok sometimes when I'm really hungry I'm just vegetarian but I NEVER EVER consume flesh) is hilarious. I'm gonna have to check them out when they come to town but only after my slow ass checks Paul Mooney (on the cover of MUGSHOT this month) who's at Caroline's this weekend.

So I saw A Spoonful of Sugar and Adventures of SuperNigger today. Both were brilliant. Check them out and support black filmmakers.

vendredi, janvier 28, 2005

"I got a love"

C.L. teaches The Game how to stunt at The Game's record release party at Temple, NYC

C.L. aka PETA's newest nemesis and Pete Rock need to get back to together. On the subject, after I saw their reunion concert with my sis and Nicole at SOB's a year ago I decided that Pete Rock was kind of a hottie. On the subject of hotties I got to give it up to Mario. "Let me Love You" would be on repeat if my lazy ass would go buy the single but for now Yahoo! Launch feeds my Mario fix. Now that he has clipped his braided hair his true colors are shining through and they are beautiful like a rainbow. Now if he could just not dance SO HARD in the video he'd be perfect.

Oh yeah and NYU's NAACP is having its Black Solidarity Conference tomorrow. Check NYU's Kimmel Center (60 Washington Square South) Brownstone will be facilitating a panel entitled "Writing the Spectrum: Brownstone on the Mainstream Media and Itself."

"Ain't no time to play. Gotta make moves with no delay" ~N'dea Davenport on "No Time to Play" from Guru's Jazzmatazz Vol. I

Hmmm...I wonder if N'Dea and Guru were dating when they made Vol. I, she's featured on quite a few songs? I must say Jazzmatazz Vol. II: The New Reality is my personal fav: "Respect the Architect" was CRAZY as was "Watch What You Say" and "Lifesaver"

mercredi, janvier 26, 2005

For a rainy day

(e-mailed to me by my mama)

20 Ways To Maintain A Healthy Level of Insanity

1. At Lunch Time, Sit In Your Parked Car With Sunglasses on and point a Hair Dryer At Passing Cars. See If They Slow Down.

2. Page Yourself Over The Intercom. Don't Disguise Your Voice.

3. Every Time Someone Asks You To Do Something, Ask If They Want Fries with That.

4. Put Your Garbage Can On Your Desk And Label It "In."

5. Put Decaf In The Coffee Maker For 3 Weeks. Once Everyone Has Gotten Over Their Caffeine Addictions, Switch To Espresso.

6. In The Memo Field Of All Your Checks, Write "For Sexual Favors."

7. Finish All Your sentences with "In Accordance With The Prophecy."

8. Dont use any punctuation

9. As Often As Possible, Skip Rather Than Walk.

10. Ask People What Sex They Are. Laugh Hysterically After They Answer.

11. Specify That Your Drive-through Order Is "To Go."

12. Sing Along At The Opera.

13. Go To A Poetry Recital And Ask Why The Poems Don't Rhyme.

14. Put Mosquito Netting Around Your Work Area And Play Tropical Sounds All Day.

15. Five Days In Advance, Tell Your Friends You Can't Attend Their Party Because You're Not In The Mood.

16. Have Your Co-workers Address You By Your Wrestling Name, Rock Hard.

17. When The Money Comes Out Of The ATM, Scream "I Won!, I Won!"

18. When Leaving T he Zoo, Start Running Towards The Parking Lot, Yelling "Run For Your Lives, They're Loose!!"

19. Tell Your Children Over Dinner, "Due To The Economy, We Are Going To Have To Let One Of You Go."

And The Final Way To Keep A Healthy Level Of Insanity.......

20. Share This With Someone To Make Them Smile...It's Called Therapy...

Watch Out Now!

MARCIA'S HERE!Let the Cree Summer worship and the Saucony sporting begin. She's one of two people I know who bought the album (I liked Freddie too -not as much as Kim-but not THAT much) and she has or at least had an astounding collection of Saucony which we argued about how to pronounce.

mardi, janvier 25, 2005

Great moments in Jalylah history!

On a positive note, I stopped by Okayplayer to read Aaron McGruder's The Boondocks (which is uproarious again after a bit of a drought), see if Skillz has posted anything funny and there was a link in the news to the boards and whatdayaknow someone had posted some live tracks of D'Angelo from the Voodoo tour which I flew to NYC to see (bought my plane ticket before I had a concert ticket) during Spring break from Spelman then saw months later in ATL with L Boogaloo at Chastain Park Ampiteatre. Blackstar opened at Radio City Music Hall and NO ONE was there so I ran up to the front ( I had orchestra seats but they were way in the back) and plopped down right next to Ali Shaheed Muhammad to watch Blackstar. Succesfully evading the ushers, I and the two other mofos that were there jammed to the brooklyn sound. Near the end of the set I got a little anxious since more folks was coming in and if the asshole ushers saw me in somebody's seat I knew they were gonna eye me all night which would have me stuck in the back in my expensive ass orchestra seats so I ducked a row behind as Blackstar finished and as they finish Kweli scoots by me in my aisle to dap up his peoples who were next to me...No one noticed him. I mean no one but his peoples. Then the ushers spotted me and forced me back to my seat. Then as D'Angelo came on and there still weren't any mofos there, the lights went down for a hot sec so I dropped to the ground like a fucking Navy Seal and I made my way maybe ten rows up where I was sitting next to a 60 year old soul woman who I chatted with all night. So of course I like to dance during concerts even the slow songs, which during Voodoo were few and far between (it was some uptempo shit), so the 30 something stunting folks behind me started haranguing, no, threatening me to sit down like this was an opera or some shit but my sixty year old homie put them in their place. She was no joke so I lived it up all night. My cousin who was worried about me going out by myself my first time in NY, bought a ticket to the supposed sold out show that night and sat in the balcony. How sweet! Anyway, it was a phenomenal evening particulary the 20 minute version of "How does it Feel" which courtesy of that cat at Okayplayer I now have on mp3.

verbal constipation

I need to write some shit down; compile my aspirations, accomplishments, favorite things, preferred foods, and everything else related to my life into a concise witty script that I promise to commit to memory and unleash at all opportune moments cause I can't EVER access that shit when I need to. I bumble, stumble, forget to conjugate and then fill in the silences with valley girlisms and expletives despite my undergraduate english major, Phi Beta Kappadom, semiprofessional scribing, and current graduate study.

In other words, I sound stupid more often than not but I promise y'all I'm not. I can't blame folks for thinking so cause if I didn't know me I might have written myself off. My anxiety about not being enough now and fear about not becoming enough later has gotten the best of my confidence. What I want I am reaching for, I can almost touch it but my hands so fucking shaky I can't get a grasp.

Pray for me!

Today's song: "Just what can happen" Blackalicious or maybe its just Gift...same difference

samedi, janvier 22, 2005

Check me out!

It looks like I will be in Sea-town in April for the Experience Music Project's Pop Conference. They accepted my proposal. Yeah!

vendredi, janvier 21, 2005

Jean Greasy

The gift of gab gets a little love from The Daily News. Oh yeah and she's at Rothko tonight with Diverse. I was gonna hit it up but its a blizzard out there and this black girl was made for the warm sunshine of the tropics.

A Song for Me

Dream Song
Walk with the sun,
Dance at high noon;
And dream when night falls black;
But when the stars
Vie with the moon,
Then call the lost dream back

~Lewis Alexander~

"Something in the way of things"

We Own the Night

We are unfair
And unfair
We are black magicians
Black arts we make
in black labs of the heart

The fair are fair
And deathly white

The day will not save them
And we own the night

~Imamu Amiri Baraka~

Blog Legislation

My fresh older sis e-mailed this article to me so I figured I'd link it to those I know in the blogging community and to think it was only months ago I hated bloggers/blogging and the lack of face-to-face human interaction they represented.

We stare at boys in the sanctuary...

So yesterday I was at The Sanctuary on 1st Ave. I'm pretty sure everyone there is an adherent of a particular eastern belief system which I can't seem to recall. Anyway I saw the waiter Kris and I first feasted our eyes upon many many moons ago when she came to NY in the dead of the fucking winter. Anyway, he's South Asian (Indian or Sri Lankan I think) and he's beautiful. He's black as coal. I couldn't look away so I tried to pretend I was looking at something behind him or that I was staring out into the universe. I should have told him he was beautiful as Kristel did that long ago cold winter's night but I didn't which makes me think that maybe I will tell him under the auspices of an article I want to write about beautiful people. That's all I'll say for now. I'll holler at you when the article is done (which would require me starting it).

jeudi, janvier 20, 2005

Get 'Em Girl

Meet the bane of America's Next Top Model loser Ya Ya's existence:

Who else remembers her subtly racist comment (as if anything can be subtle and racist.) I am forced to add subtle to my commentary for the dumbfucks who were suprised that the frequently bitchy and very superior Ya Ya welled up in tears and read this fashion challenged stylist? Get 'em girl!

Kristel is in the building!

The original Ghetto Valley Girl aka the Black Reese Witherspoon aka JLo's cousin is in the building. The virtual building that is. Check out her blog!

mardi, janvier 18, 2005


I aspire to cultural (music, film, art, current events, etc. criticism) not news reportage not that there is anything wrong with the latter or that I'm not capable of the latter. I realized this yesterday at a protest of Shirley Q. Liquor at Club Spirit.

You see Shirley Q. Liquor is a white man in drag and blackface as a black welfare Queen which is completely unacceptable. So although I was covering it for Brownstone, I also protested it. My mom, former gender barrier breaking radio journalist that she is, was like: What? Well, that's how it was and that's how it will remain because injustice is injustice and there's no point frontin' like it isn't. Its funny 'cause there was reporter from New York's Gay Paper there and he said it was a complicated issue and I just stared and nodded but really it wasn't. It isn't. Minstrelsy is not O.K. Racism is not O.K. Same for sexism, inequality, injustice etc...etc...On the subject here's what the great King who I didn't get to chance to virtually celebrate yesterday (although I imagine my protest was my tribute) has to SAY about justice.

vendredi, janvier 14, 2005

You can hate me now

I am linking these pics of B from the crusade because as everyone under the sun already knows I despise B and B's hair is effed up (what's new) and that makes me feel better about myself for some strange reason.

Here's another one:

jeudi, janvier 13, 2005

"I don't wanna know...."

That ENYA/Fugees biting, mildly talented, son of a gospel singer's song is on repeat in my head. In fact, I'm so distraught I might just jump in the tub with my clothes on like the Guerilla Black dueting singer/producer did in his wack ass video. One of the best musicians of all time (yes I said it after only two albums) got locked up but I believe they let him out.

Somebody may need to lock his ass in Betty Ford cuz I need a follow up to the genius that was Brown Sugar and the aural ectasy that was the down and dirty Voodoo.

"Fuck the slice, I want the pie."

Ooh Uh Uhh

So the other day me and D-Bo were talking about how all friends talk alike. Well not at first but once you get to know somebody their speak rubs off and you and yours on them and then y'all become the same voice. Right? So we recalled shit we used to say in college and D remembered all this phrasing from G-Dub and I couldn't remember one thing the Spelman chicks used to say and then it came to me days later: "Ooh uh uh." Keshia from Houston, 4 doors down from me freshman year on the hallowed halls of LLC1 said it best. She may have originated it. I'm not certain. But it was a Spelman original without a doubt. For an in person pronunciation guide, get at me.

dimanche, janvier 09, 2005

"Yo raise that money son we raising these kids."~Dave (De La Soul) to Diddy

I saw what looked like Camr'on sidekick Jim Jones's father selling loosies on 125 and St. Nick.

What do the Eastside Boyz of Lil' John and The Eastside Boyz do?

Why is "Rhythmn City", Usher's take on the gloved one's "Moonwalker" so hot?

I start a new job tomorrow.

vendredi, janvier 07, 2005

Things that make you go hmm...

You ever wonder why so many black girls have receding hairlines? I am referring to the follicle deficient areas framing so many black girls faces. I first encountered this phenomena as a middle schooler in Seattle, WA. A friend, who will remain nameless, had a lovely head of black hair excepting one side of her hair which excepting three fine strands of hair was bald. In fact the not so nice handful of black boys in our class referred to it as a fade. She explained that this had been the result of her heavyhanded mom, a pony tail holder, and a desperate need for slick ponytail evincing all evidence of black ancestry.

I did not know this black girl pattern baldness was endemic until I moved to NY and saw so many women, african american, carribean american and latina, with bald sides.

It's a frightening sight but its impossible not to stare. I wonder how was is that a chick pulled her hair out from its roots and so vigorously that no hair will grow. Do we so despise/fear the nappy edge that we'd rather be bald? I heard braids do a lot of the damage which is why after the once incident my cornrowed hair pulled my head so tight I couldnt smile or laugh (I'm not exagerrating), I made sure if and when I got my hair braided it was done loose to the consternation of the so called trained professionals doing my hair and a community of nap-phobic men and women.

What is most suprising is the volume of Latina women with straight textures of hair who also suffer from this problem. My initial hypotheses was that the baldness which result from tight pulling is side effect of attempts at nap obfuscation but what about the ethnic girl without naps (much like my friend in middle school who had a straighter texture of hair). Well it seams that ethnic women like tight styles. For African American and Latina women the ideal ponytail is one that is tight, framing the scalp like a too tight glove, gelled down, without a hair out of place.

I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me."~Stuart Smalley

mercredi, janvier 05, 2005

Holy Holy Holy

Mama is the antithesis of a rolling stone but isn't unfamiliar with rolling (Holy Rolling to be specific). She e-mails me devotions/bible verses/scripture lesson every day. I really like this one:


Philippians 4:4-13 (NRSV)
Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.


I rejoice in the Lord greatly that now at last you have revived your concern for me; indeed, you were concerned for me, but had no opportunity to show it. Not that I am referring to being in need; for I have learned to be content with whatever I have. I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.
Hebrews 11:1 (NRSV)

Prayer: Beloved God, help us to live with joy, knowing that you are our guide and that you live with us all the days of our lives. Amen.

The joy of Christ has nothing to do with situation.

I like to eat

I'm sure the two to three people who read this blog do too. So vote for my friend Raynard's cousin RJ to be The next FOOD NETWORK star. Click Here to Vote!

Food rocks (especially vegan cuisine),

lundi, janvier 03, 2005

Tears of a clown

I'm back baby. I almost cried last night as I lay in my momma's bed watching The Terminal (surprisingly good). I didn't want to leave my mama or my sis for that matter. I used to cry every time I boarded a plane. I bet you would have never guessed that little known fact. Few people know what a sensitive grown ass woman I really am. I cry at the drop of a hat but I'm really good at not being seen, blending into the background or as I fearfully complained to Moya 'being a Gayle to everybody else's Oprah.' At the end of each Christmas holiday or summer break, the impending transpacific or transcontinental flight would momentarily overwhelm me or really the distance those flight created between me and my mama. As much as my mama and my sis sometime get on my nerves I really miss them when they're not around but that ain't nothin' new. I always been a mama's girl. In infancy and toddlerhood noone but my mama could hold me and she's still the most loving and phenomenal person I have ever met.

But back to the Emerald City. If I'm not mistaken it has gotten colder. I was bundled up the entire time. I got sick Christmas night. (Not Cool.) And remained sick for most of my NW stay. It's funny when I did make it out some of my fav places no longer exist. Broadway Market is a effing QFC, THE AVE has been upscaled, the Gravity Bar no longer seems to exist, nor do some fav shopping spots on the revitalized 1st ave downtown. On a positive note the perpetually closed Hillside Quickie vegan spot was for the first time in my life open when I walked by. Seattle's a lot glossier than it used to be. It's figuratively frozen forsaking it's Emerald uniqueness for the Diamond Life. In homage of the Seattle of my childhood I bought some clogs from the Wooly Mammoth on the AVE since Birk's aren't really in season and never really looked good on my feet.

Shaun and Brooke were gracious hosts as always. I spent the night at their apt. twice, the second time at their raucous New Year's eve party. All the old homies/fam were in attendance so it was really quite fresh.

We will all be reunited at Matt's July wedding and maybe partially at Mensah's graduation.

Anyway, I really don't like having a roomie. I was so annoyed to see her when I got back tonight but maybe that was beacause I waited an hour for my luggage at JFK and then the car service guy beckoned me to walk like a quarter of a mile with my 5 bags nstead of driving his car closer to me the person he was supposed to be serving with the aforementioned vehicle, and then I arrived at my elevator bldg and find out the elevator is not working and I had to lug my bags up four floors. (Not Cool.)

But I'm always cool sometimes too much so. Frozen. I want to work on that. Feigned indifference doesn't coincide with my chief 2005 goal which I text msged myself while waiting for my bags. I would tell you but this is far from a secret diary and I'm recovering from being "so self-conscious." Although I think I may have an idea what I'm doing in college.

PS-Please someone leave a muthafucking comment! If you do I'll tell you a secret.

samedi, janvier 01, 2005

"Good luck exploring the infinite abyss!"

Welcome to the New Year lovelies! 2005 crept up on me in the cacophony that was my chaotic life in 2004. I cannot believe it! (said in my best Prince Akeem imitation)

I’m optimistic about 2005. I know that I can not banish chaos or disappointment or other bad shit but I might be able to summon that good ish. I am committing myself to thriving in calm or storm, on steady ground or sinking sand even floating on the broken shards of life’s many Titanics.

I’m excited. I’m sliding back into my own skin. I’m stepping out of my own shadow into the light. What I'm sayin' is: I gotta, gotta, gotta "drop the top and let the sunshine in!" Word to Cee-Lo!

I hope I dance.

"I Hope You Dance"
written by Mark Wright from da 'ville better know as the city that Moya built
sung by Lee Ann Womack

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty-handed
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance, I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Livin' might mean takin' chances, but they're worth takin'
Lovin' might be a mistake, but it's worth makin'
Don't let some hell-bent heart leave you bitter
When you come close to sellin' out, reconsider
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance, I hope you dance
I hope you dance, I hope you dance
(Time is a wheel in constant motion, always rolling us along
Tell me who wants to look back on their years
And wonder, where those years have gone)

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

Dance, I hope you dance
I hope you dance, I hope you dance
I hope you dance, I hope you dance
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along
Tell me who wants to look back on their years
And wonder where those years have gone)