I'm Down For Whatever

is gonna keep moneY in my pocket. Be informed. Get involved. I have no trust in politicians to actually work in the best interest of the people they represent. I'm poor enough. NO NEW(OR REINSTATED) TAXES!

I'm almost middle aged: eating a grilled cheese sandwich and drinking flat rieseling

I turn 30 in less than 2 months and I am NOT happy about it. I'm at the age when older people be like "you ain't married yet?" you ain't got no kids?" I don't want kids, marriage is an option, but it's hard as hell to find a suitable date, none the less a suitable husband. And what man wants a woman who doesn't want kids? Just watched sex and the city and in 3 yrs that will be me...sitting at a table with my other middle aged friends griping about the world and how fucked up it is to be a single educated black woman in LA. Wait, we do that now. And then I have to think about this whole societal pressure to procreate. I used to pray as a teenager that the lord take my gift of child bearing away and give it to some woman who can't have kids. Now though, I find myself saying " awww" when I see a cute baby. I'm not so sure that if I got pregnant I would head for the abortion like I swore to at 24 yrs old. I'm getting soft. I can't afford a kid. I can barely feed myself. Ooh and to broach another topic; sex.

I am starting to think that I subliminally block myself from any possibility of sex just to make sure I don't get pregnant. But when keeping away from sex you also keep away from the opposite sex. Clearly I am not a risk taker. What's a horny chick to do? Bob? I rarely if ever see a man who turns my head. I am not the one to waste her time on men that I am not even remotely interested in. If im interested in you I know it. It doesn't take dinner and wining and dining for me to figure it out. Im starting to think maybe I should waste my time on dudes im not interestd in right off the bat. It's one of those things where I will know what Im looking for when I see it. Ain't nothing like a tall, dark, country man. If you come from one of those former confederate states I"ll holla! Crucnchy black if I can find it. Or maybe I should date outside my race? But am I too black, country, ethnic, thick, and stubborn to attract the fairer skinned stiff legs? And how do I even talk to them. It's weird without the same shared experiences, history, culture, etc. I would feel like I am not being myself. Like I am on my best behavior in the work place or something.

Maybe I busy myself with so many outside projects so that I won't have to face my disdain with my life. If I could do anything I wanted right now I would sing, dance, and travel; in that order. I am old. 30 is one of those ages where you reflect back on your life. I don't enjoy my job, I am single, I am broke. I just really envisioned my self as a Jr Toni Childs by now. I feel like a loser. And to make matters worse I can't audition for an MTV reality show or do a Glee Flash mob or something. Don't watch the show anyway, but I digress. I feel stuck in a rut. I know so many people with great things going on in their lives (new jobs, new homes, new babies, engagements, marriges, found $20) and I'm just here. For all of the smiling and dancing and kicking it I do it is the times when I am alone, right here in my room in front of my computer (because I don't have TV) that I wonder if the world is just passing me by and I'm sitting here twiddling my thumbs too scared to Just Do It. Whatever it is. I am a special case. An eccentric, excitable, fool full of witty thoughts, inappropriate banter, and the spirit of some really cool regal native american loving bird.


I find myself eating to fill some emotional void lately. Really, it's 12:32am and you're eating chocolate covered cloverhill donuts. 3 of them! I often reflect back on my life 5 yrs ago and it seems pretty damn good to me right now. Never take your love or like or even remote interest in what you do for a living for granted. Many a moon ago I had a career, now I have a job. Although I relish in my alone time, I often wish I had company. Yea, it's me; Monica the middle aged loser. Sitting here eating a grilled cheese sandwich and driking flat rieseling.

If I could make a Musical Mix of Songs currently on my mp3 player to embody the love I hope for and have to give

the following songs would tell the story (in no particular order):
Creepin-Stevie Wonder
Love Is Stronger Than Pride-Rahsaan Patterson
Be My Vixen-Miguel
Girl W/ The Tattoo-Miguel
Sign Your Name-Terence Trent D'Arby (Sananda Maitreya)
Holding On To You- Sananda Maitreya
Yeah Yeah Yeah-Rahsaan Patterson
SugaRush Beat Company-LOVE
Hello-Amel Larrieux
Words-Anthony David
Everlasting Love-Rufus and Chaka Khan
You Belong To Me-Chaka Khan and Michael McDonald
Feels Good-Rahsaan Patterson
The Beautiful Ones-Prince
Adore-Prince
2 The 9's-Prince
Something-Musiq
Forever More-Enchantment

I Don't Want To Settle

Looking for a black man. Age 25-35. High School Grad (w/ some awesome reason why they didn’t go to or finish college). Dark skinned. 5’9” or taller. Not Fat. Nice smile (Must have all of your teeth and they must be clean and a nice shade of white). Nice eyes. Intelligent. Funny. Witty. Outgoing. No kids. Non-Smoker. Must be employed and have ambition in life. MUST LOVE MUSIC. Don’t wear skinny jeans, sandals, scarves for no damn reason, or busy ass Ed Hardy or knock off Ed Hardy-esque clothing.

Are those things too much to ask for? It doesn’t seem like a lot to me. Maybe I am just in the wrong place. Los Angeles: The land of the gay man and the thug man. Or if you are in the middle you looking like a Marques Houston Ass Nigga.

I don’t wear a long Indian remy weave. Although I do dabble in the art of wiggetry (I wear wigs for hair diversity). I am not light skinned and I don’t wear a size 2. I am black and no parts of my immediate lineage are Pacific Islander or Mexican. I am not a girly girl so be confident in yourself enough to exist without me constantly stroking your ego, although I will stroke something else. Just looking for someone to spend some life with, ya dig.

And don’t start preaching about the problems with black women. I ain’t did shit to you. You better holla at Keisha on that shit or go to therapy.

Deprivation

I’ve come to realize that I deprive myself out of fear. I also know what I want and see no point in wasting my time on some unfavorable subject. It leads to self doubt and cob webs.

My demons

Everybody has them and until tonight I was happy to let mine fester. But now they have been dredged up and I feel uncomfortable. I am so good at denying and forgetting until I am not sure it even existed in the first place. Remember, my mission is to please others at the cost of my own happiness. Kinda feel like I was raised to be a victim.

People

You know, I realized something: People are fickle. They are friendly as long as it suits them. From their point of view people are expendable. So I was mistaken. It wasn't that others from their past are wack; they are the source of dissension.

TTD's Neither Fish Nor Flesh

Listening to TTD's Neither Fish Nor Flesh: This album feels like a big experiment. It feels disjointed. This Side Of Love is the best thing on it. All of his albums after this one were really focused.

1-6-11 Realization of the Day

Life is hard. No wonder everybody is on drugs!

aww, my life is over. I feel like chattel.

Today has been a day of emotional anguish: I revisit my first blog entry

The trial has taken it's toll and it's only day 2. Cried 3 times today and am fighting back tears as I type this. Sometimes I wish I was incapable of love. That way it wouldn't hurt so much. The absolute core of my horror is upon me again, dredging up the worst way I could possibly feel. It's an old feeling. A 1 1/2 yr old feeling so I will just revisit. Here is my first blog entry dated June 25, 2009: The Worst Day of My Life

June 25, 2009

Never have I felt so much pain and wept an ache inducing cry. Now I know how it feels to lose someone you love. I don’t know how me waking to see another day will be. I have lost my hope. That shining bauble, just out of reach, but there….there for me in so many ways. What is this world without magic, without love, without enchantment? The world is forever changed and never the same. From this day forth I feel kind of shell shocked. A shell of my former self. Walking zombie-like through life without my hope. My fanciful hope. I recently started thinking and working on ways to get to London. That was what I was going to greet everyday with…Get to London. Now what? I honestly feel like god has forsaken me or something. He knew I was holding on to Mike to get through the day-to-day which is my life and now he has taken him away from me. What do I have left? The music of course. Man, the way the base line just courses through my body on errthang off the wall. Or the attack of the lyrics on BAD and Dangerous. I was waiting for him to do the nina pop. He did the bankhead bounce in 1995. That was cool. I Liked that bob, but why did he have his shirt open on you are not alone and what was up with the nakedness. Looking like Mr. Burns, eww eww ewww! He my play uncle though. Always, like Josh and Reva.

I have lost something and someone who meant so much to me without us even meeting. It’s funny how God puts people in your life. I never even paid that dude any attention until the summer of 1998. My sister was out in South County on the job hunt and bought The Wiz on VHS. I hadn’t seen it in over 10 years, had pretty much forgot about it. As soon as I saw the Mike on the Pole with the Crows, I was mesmerized. How delicate, how warm, how friendly, how funky was he! I mean I played that tape over and over again. I even knew his parts. I loved to say “we don’t need no cabs.” It took me a month or so to learn how to moon walk in my mom’s old raggedy payless slides. My fave quote from Mike’s many quotes in the movie was …”ignorance is the night of the mind, a night without moon or star” Typing that just made me smile. Before then I was too afraid to watch the Thriller video. Yea, it totally scarred me as a small child. I was 17 when I finally watched it in its entirety (I peeked through my fingers on the monster parts). See, Mike makes me feel good. His majesty, artistry, the way he walked, the way he wiped the sweat from his brow, the way he keeps the beat with that foot, the way he pumps with his neck when he moonwalks. That pelvic thrust be killing me. He makes the simplest moves so BIG! It’s magic! I wonder… wow; God made this incredible person…and gave him the gift of song. That song is his ministry to the world. Funny how I be looking for stuff to prove he is real, that he is a brutha. Like that interview where he is eating fried chicken, or the fact that he was drinking a Budweiser on the set of We Are The World (well he had it in his hand), or when instead of saying We Don’t he said it ebonically like We Ont. Ooh, or that time I read in J. Randy Taraborelli that Mike called some chick a heifer. Ooh, and how he was talking about he liked Bar-B-Que. Ya’ll know he patented a mechanism by which to do the smooth criminal lean in concert? You know he has this way of vocal delivery which sounds like he is on the verge of crying. Check out We’ve Already had Enough. You know, he has the most beautiful eyes. The most beautiful eyes, well next to an old boyfriend I had when I was 15. Ask Darren, I was afraid to look into his eyes in 2006. I messed up and found footage of him in like 1981 shooting a Suzuki commercial in Japan and I thought he was cute and it totally fucked up my psyche. Til that time I had never seen a version of Mike that I thought was attractive. His ears didn’t change. They are still the same shape. His ears used to be darker than his face in the mid-late 80’s. Just like a black baby that is getting its color. Maybe he’ll be wherever Tupac and Elvis are. He aint gone. Ooh, and on the Dirty Diana video when he tears off his shirt he is light on the front but darker on his back. Or how in Yokohama Japan on the 2nd leg of the Bad Tour he had his hair in a ponytail and I could see his kitchen. Yea, Mike needed a touch up. Or how he calls out peoples names when they are not doing something they are supposed to. See he be singing and in the middle of the lyrics you hear …life aint so PAT at all if you live it PAT wall.

He should have worn jeans more often. He looked good in jeans in the early 80’s. One time I was in the car with Adrianne and I was singing PYT and I made the AH sound and she was like…did you just make that noise and I said yea, it’s a part of the song. I’m angry. Why couldn’t someone else die? Kobe Bryant, Bill Murray, Phil Spector, Fuckin Bin Ladin, them Mennonite men who were raping women on the commune.

By far this is the 2nd worst day of my life. Man, I be so damn tired of Katie on Moonwalker. She always doing dumb shit and Mike always gotta save her ass. And why can’t I get upstairs on the Sega Moonwalker game? Yea, I got it! I be kickin and spinning and throwing my hat and I just cant climb those damn stairs. I got up there once though, then I was stuck walking pool table to pool table cause I couldn’t figure out what to do next. I like the way he says Dodger Stadium on the last night of the Victory Tour in LA. Ooh, and Shake Your Body Down in my fave Jacksons song and why does Mike yell break it down at least 9 times (I counted) during the performance. Ooh, years and years ago I had a dream that we were at a sleep over on the Scream set. The dream was in black and white like the video and I accidentally touched Mike’s face and he got mad at me. He just glared at me. That was scary. With all the surgery he had he could still make facial expressions.

This makes no sense. Senseless. I just don’t understand why? Ooh and Mike does a funky, come here girl finger to the ladies. His fingers are long, like he has an extra joint or something. I have a picture of him kissing a black girl in concert in the late 70’s early 80’s. I always tell people…when I get the space modulator from Marvin the Martian and the Flux Capacitor for Marty McFly, I am going back in time to be Mike’s friend. Just a friend…to shoot the breeze with and talk malarkey, he wouldn’t want me to say shit. I feel that there is no way to live your life healthy, death comes upon you not matter how skinny or fat you are so just live and die. Like we could just philosophize about stuff. Maybe he wouldn’t have had so many nose jobs if someone really saw the beauty in him. I see it. Wouldn’t it be weird if he never had a nose job but still lost his color? In this warped way of thinking, maybe things happen for a reason. I like the way he breaths at the end of ballads. Like on I’ll be there and she’s out of my life. He made an art out or breathing between words. I can just close my eyes and be transplanted to a place. That place is Michael Jackson or maybe Neverland. I just recently, like in the past month, realized that Mike is a place for me. A place in my mind and heart where there is happiness and I am whole, I am at peace. He is my Someone in the Dark. He never had a lot of lips. Just added that red lipstick. Funny, red lipstick. You know who could get it? Jackie Jackson. That dude had mad body! I find myself looking at his pecks and totally ignoring Mike. I can just see the sweat drippin all over his body (in shenene from martin voice). Jackie was fuin in those 1970’s standards. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want my phone to ring because I hear Mike’s voice. I don’t want to see my screen saver cause I see Mike during dress rehearsal in Japan on the Bad Tour. I don’t want to open my closet cause I don’t want to see my collection of Mike stuff. Guess I am in denial. Glad I don’t have TV or the internet. I’m sure my composure would not be decent enough to lay out my thoughts.

Let’s see. In 2007 I went to a fan event and Joe Jackson was there. We were in the same room. I had a giddy moment. I thought…OMG IM BREATHING TO SAME AIR AS MICHAEL JACKSON’S DADDY! He looks just as mean in person too. I don’t see how Mike put on all of that make up every day. I hate taking off make up when I come back from the club n stuff. His eyeliner was cool during the BAD days. It’s like his eyes can see through to your soul. They are soothing and kinda whisper…hi, how you doin? No worries. I think he would smell funny. Like, not a bad smell, but a unique Michael Jackson smell. Why did he have carebear power coming out of his shirt on captain Eo? He was really funny looking in 1985 when he was way lighter than the thriller days, but still had his dark Michael Jackson healthy face and the short curl. I am starting to think he had a couple of tracks for the BAD album. His hair was really long in 2 years. It was like a leisure curl. Why did he tear of randy’s cloth on Victory Tour? Hey, I went to see Stars on Ice in 2006 in the same arena he started the BAD Tour in 1987. I was like AHH MICHAEL JACKSON WAS HERE 20 YEARS AGO! I saw Michelle Kwan and Syryah Bonaly. They were awesome! It’s Only A Movie! He sure was chomping that popcorn on Thriller. I would have walked through a graveyard with him any night. His eyebrows were always immaculately arched and to quote J. Randy Taraborelli…”his lips were glossed to a subtle sheen.” Ahhh, the eyes again. I call it eye-itis. Wasn’t it the weirdest thing when he kissed the lisa marie chick? They wanna get my ass dead or alive. Don Sneddon is a cold man indeed. Hey, Mike cussed. Maybe I can say shit.

No worries, all I have is worries. I have watched Ghostbusters, Who Framed Roger Rabbit and some of Amelie and it all seems like blur. I heard off the wall at like 10:30 something this morning. I was jamming all the way to wherever it is I was going. I was texting bruh dav diggler around the time the 9-1-1 call came in. 12:21pm 12:24pm. I did eat a bowl of cereal this evening. Never in my life have I cried out loud. I sobbed, I slobbed…all while driving home to be alone and stew in my grief. I’m not done though. I haven’t been able to share my grief in the company of other fans who love him. WHO LOVE HIM. THERE IS NO PAST TENSE HERE, the way I do. Im’a leave you with something beautiful…

There have been others, but never two lovers like music and me….

Im’a leave it there. Yea, that feels like an ending, but not the end.

People should not irritate me at 6:10 in the morning

1-5-11

I just really wanna merk this lady who decided to pay her $14 in bus fare in all 1’s. Shit, it’s cold. If she didn’t have that Obama skull cap on I would have went all sharp shooter to her head. Red dot not feather.

There’s a lady sitting in front of me who looks like a stale roach or something. She’s the color of Charlie Murphy with Faith Evans’ hair color.

Went down to the courthouse today. Saw one person I knew. The bulk of the fans had dispersed since it was after 1pm.

Realizing shit sucks

I am in the dessert of my adult work history. I have pretty much given up on getting back into TV news. It’s been over 4 years. Any skills I had are long gone. I guess I will focus on other things that interest me.

There’s derelict doodle in my brain

12-27-10

I’ve cried the tears of a thousand bygone eras. Fears and hopes tectonically collide bringing forth death and a new birth of mind. I am not the fan I used to be. I can no longer lose myself in out world. Once where there was noting but happiness, sadness peeks in its marauding head. I bought THIS IS IT on dvd the day it came out. It’s still in the plastic in the best buy bag with the receipt. I can’t bring myself to watch it. I bought the Michael album. It’s still sitting on my desk in the Target bag. I only half way listened to it once. I am very picky in what I will and will not do or affiliate myself with. I bought it out of love, obligations, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. To not buy it is to harm Michael’s reputation and I will always make sure I support him.

It’s like those little nesting egg figurines. It’s happy inside of grief inside of anger inside of despair. I can’t even watch him on TV. I can’t lose myself in his music anymore. I also notice that Sony is not marketing the album well. THIS IS IT was everywhere. Even with the controversy they should still push the album. I saw the commercial for it after the album came out. I have seen one Dash bus with an advertisement on its side.

There’s derelict doodle in my brain.

I have noticed that I only write poetry when I am sad.

12-26-10 Twitter is evil and I am really sad. James Brown has happened again!

12-26-10

Twitter on my phone has been taking me away from here. I cannot give it this much power. Must sustain flight. Why couldn’t someone I don’t care about die. I am really shocked, saddened, and angry at the death of Teena Marie. Since Mike’s passing I am super sensitive to death. I am starting to not want old age. It has to really mess with your heart and mind to watch all of your friends die. Has to be lonely.

11-16-10 Sananda and Q

11-16-10

Found a way to rip audio from YouTube videos. Nice! Listening to Sananda sing Holding On To You Live from 1995. There was a smoldering fire about him in that concert. Maybe it was the combo of his skin, sweat and the lighting.
Just realized Quincy Jones’ new album is just remixes of songs he already released, but by current artists.

11-15-10: Stevie Wonderfull LA5 and other stuff

Stevie Wonderfull LA 5 was fun. The DJ wasn’t all that good. He didn’t DJ for maximum dance emotion. He did some good stuff. Didn’t hear Go Home. It wasn’t crowded. I just remembered last year the DJ played more diverse stuff. I was learning so much because he played songs Stevie wrote or produced for other artists…and I didn’t know some of the songs. I heard songs I had never heard. This year it was the usual songs. And he’d repeat the same parts of “AS” right before my especial favorite part where he growls the lyrics. His daughter Ieisha showed up and they played her song. That has to be a nice warm and fuzzy feeling…your dad loves you and he wrote a song about you.

This one buff black dude came with her. He was built! Shaped like SpongeBob. Anyway, he starts dancing and all seemed ok. Then it happened…HE TWIRLED! Damn, he was gay!

There was also this Asian guy who looked like he just stepped out of the 36th Chamber. Of course I named him WuTang. He was gettin’ his git down on. Andrea observed that he kept rewinding his dance moves. Accurate deduction. I found a dollar; had to dance my way to it. The most coolest thing of the night was the guy who actually caught my eye. That rarely happens. He was dancing on stage. I just liked his aura. His cut out tank top tee shirt said something about bullshit on the back. He had on a 70’s style page boy cap w/ his hair in a ponytail. Yes, a ponytail. You know I am averse to said things on a black man. The other thing is that he was light skinned. And per the redness of his ponytail and the shape of his nose I deducted that he had freckles. I love freckles! So from afar I thought he was cute, but with no confirmation of the actual features up close I relegated myself to just watching him dance. He has certain earthy grime to him.

And now back to the regularly scheduled program….

I need to go buy more of his music. Kinda said I can’t go see Fantasia next week.

11-12-10

11-12-10

Everyday I wake up I am a little less myself. A blessing and a curse. Living with this pain isn’t living at all. I had might as well be with him if my heart feels this way.

The older I get the more I pass gas and drop loads in public places. I guess I just don’t care much anymore. And no knows me here.

I am scared of this new album. I really wish we could put a stop to all posthumous releases that were unfinished. If they release anything unfinished- JUST DON’T FINISH IT because you are not Michael and therefore it will lack MAGIC