“Blorft is an adjective that I just made up that means ‘Completely overwhelmed but proceeding as if everything is fine and reacting to the stress with the torpor of a possum.’”
-An excerpt from Tina Fey’s Bossypants.
That’s an excellent term to describe exactly how I feel.
As of late, I’ve been on a constant recession from everything/everyone I know and even myself at the same time. My best friends think I’m an insufferable, antisocial bitch, everything irritates the shit out of me, and it seems like I can’t figure out anything to save my life. Not to mention my skin has revolted. This explains a lot of why writing has been nearly impossible as of late. I’ve spent many a night in front of a blank WordPress post, just dying to get something out.
As many people don’t know, I’ve been on ‘vacation’ for about 2 months now. Somehow something went terribly awry in the universe and went from three jobs to none in the span of a month. I can’t really say that I’m really bothered by this, because I really needed the time off. But now, I’m at the point where I need to make decisions about what I’m doing and where I’m going. I’m constantly in job search mode, but the employment market in New York is comparable to a Black Friday sale at Macy’s. It’s quite dismal.
While in DC for Easter weekend, I got to see the premiere screening for Patrik-Ian Polk’s latest project, The Skinny. It’s a story about five college friends meeting up for a weekend in NYC, the ups and downs of love and dating, and simply just having a good time. (I won’t tell too much, I promise!)
I’ve always liked to support Polk’s work, because there’s always a message in the stories he tells. In The Skinny, he carries on his recurring theme of HIV/AIDS awareness, which is a mission that I personally support. Polk makes us feel at home by calling in a few cameos from Noah’s Arc, including Darryl Stephens, Wilson Cruz and Jennia Fredrique (who might easily be my favorite character from the series). Also featured were a couple of online personalities, such as poet Bassey Ikpi and blogger B. Scott.
I appreciate the fact that Polk’s work gets better with each project. I remember the first time watching Noah’s Arc in 2007, and grimacing at the rough-around-the-edges acting (but I still loved the show). The Skinny shows his growth as a producer, as the acting was significantly better, and the plot felt a lot more relatable. I actually feel like I’ve been in at least ONE of the situations from the movie.
The Skinny premieres in NYC on May 11, and I definitely think it’s a must-see.
I was up late doing some work, and I got restless, and started thinking about my short period in the modeling world… And I found these:
And it got me to thinking even more… Read more…
I can’t think of the last time I posted something not related to my book… Anyway.
Before I get to the real subject of this post, I think my public is in due need of an update:
Work has been the normal circus (cue Britney Spears) that it usually is. I’m not complaining, because I could be slinging fries or ass on the nearest street corner.
I was in NYC a week ago, and I really REALLY (really) hate that I had to come back to Houston. I had plenty of clothes to stay for at least another 2 weeks. But I have something up my sleeve. Just you wait. But while I was there, I had an interview at the corporate office of the company I work for (which has to remain nameless, because otherwise, I’ll get SHOT) and It went we’ll. If you didn’t know, I need to be living back in NYC by the time I’m 25. That’s another year and a week from today, July 14. ANYWAY, I found out that I didn’t get the fucking job yesterday, and while I detect hoe shit behind that, the defense rests.
Let’s move on to the rest of the trip.
I stayed in Brooklyn with my Brothers from other mothers, Husani and Jashiro, whom I haven’t seen since 2007. They are the BEST! And really know how to throw a party! FINALLY got to meet my favorite people, including Kareem who I’ve known for 3 years, and never saw in person you’d think we used to live together by the way we carry on. Not to mention the gang of friends I’ve made on Twitter in the past year that I’ve been tweeting. XD, Ajay, Joey, Kyle, all of which are the main reason that I didn’t wanna leave. ( Lemme move on before ya’ll get messy in my comments.) I also found Mariana, too. She has a GORGEOUS new place in Brooklyn, all ready for me to decorate.) I met some new and interesting folks too, such as Assante, Penny and Lakai. I’m name dropping #dinnamug, but then again, who’s writing this??
I Shopped, too. (If you know me well enough, this is self explanatory– if you don’t, let’s just say I had to carry on a bigger bag going back.)
I will also continue to neglect the fact that I ran into ‘Two’ last Friday. Ya’ll may need to call me for that story.
So, about me being a prude.
I’ve been getting calls, text messages and Facebook posts, asking where I’ve been for nearly two weeks. If you’ve cared enough to notice, I’ve been kind of AWOL from social media. There’s really no MAJOR reason.. However:
-Twitter makes me think a lot. So does facebook. If you know me, you’ll know I think A LOT as it is, without the help of internet. There’s just so much going on in my time lines that makes me think way more than I have to. Between people’s personal lives, and celebrity fuckery, on top of my OWN life, I’m bound to go crazy. (for you naysayers who think I can’t multitask, I have a very demanding job which I have to manage with less than 4 hours of daily sleep, bills, a wishy washy parent, and some more shit. Don’t judge me.)
Will I come back? Sure. Anytime soon? Who knows. I think we should all take a vacation from twitter, facebook, and myspace (for whomever still uses that…) It may do you some good to NOT know what everyone is doing ALL the damn time.
I’m absolutely bored, on this rather peculiar Saturday/Sunday morning. I’m tired, and although I’ve decided that I’m going to work tomorrow (in order to facilitate yet ANOTHER shopping extravaganza) I can’t/don’t want to sleep.
There’s alot running around in my head, like hyper children at recess. I cant stop thinking about – well, alot.
If you’ve been reading my entries (like you should be) you would know that a recurring topic is how I need to get the fuck out of Texas. I loathe this place, and every ignorant thing about it. Well, I’m keeping my fingers, toes and Gucci boots crossed, because hopefully my prayers will be answered soon. The hellhole I call work is making a valiant effort to give me an aneurysm, and they should quit while they’re ahead. I cant understand why people are so busy backstabbing and hoe bagging that they cant do their own damn work. Bitch leave me alone and go ‘SADDOWN’ somewhere.
“If he don’t FUCK with ya’ll, then don’t BOTHER him.”
This is a rule of thumb that anyone who has a job should follow. If there is someone in your direct working circle (department/team/clusterfuck/etc) that is simply trying to work for the sole purpose of survival and fashion, leave him ALONE! That means, DO NOT throw paper clips at him whilst he’s working, DO NOT lie on him and tell others that he’s talking shit about them. DO NOT try and control him as if he’s 2. You will not like the outcome if that kid goes completely apeshit on you, for the fuckeries that you commence upon him.
(Yes, this is based on a VERY true story. I’m tempted to forward this to the entire group.)
In other news- I have been hauling ass on my writing project, ‘The Interrupted Perspectives’. The fucked up part? I have to stop for a while before I start pulling what’s left of my two-toned hair out. Reason being, is this one particular segment involves me and the re-imagined version of Bryan, or ‘Two’, and it makes me obsess about what could have been. I want to kick myself for saying this, but I really wish things would have worked out between us. He was really one of the closest specimens of my version of perfection as I was gonna get. But shit happens. There’s a lovely Keepall 50 at the Louis Vuitton boutique that will make me feel a little better about that.
As I’m sitting here, listening to old ass sad love songs, I went back to my MySpace blog (the one that started it all) and began reading from my first post. Wow. I have been through some shit and It all seems to have started here. This shit was obviously a hell of a lot more tolerable when I lived in New Orleans. But, then again, I didn’t live alone, and wasn’t working with a bunch of imbeciles who cant seem to pull their heads out of their asses or stop chasing the meal trucks to realize that they are at work and not kindergarten. (If you read this, and think I’m talking about you, ask me and I’ll go ahead and confirm it for you.) But anyway. I was reading a poem that I wrote, and It was very relevant, nearly three years later:
2:51 and this feeling is far from fun,
i sit and i wait on you with nothing exciting to do.. this is a ridiculous process and nothing at all is new.
i have two phones but no one to call, to ears, and no one to say a damn thing at all.. and this is why i’m scared to let my defense fall..
ive been dragged likehellthrough the rat race and Ive even beenhit in the face; but there’s something inside that keeps my faith, that tells me that it isn’t a waste..
i sit here wanting to cry, and even asking why; i sit here watching time pass by and you havent even said hi…
am i stupid? should i give up? can you please pour some brandy into my cup? but drinkingjust softens the cries that never shut up!
but this is a shame… its never the same; and still a twisted commonality in this perpetual game!
this poem is not about structure, its not about stupid mistakes can cause a heart to rupture..
sometimes my life is never on track, i feel like a jacket with 3zippers on back.
you did it again, and i let you,
now who is to blame? its me, I’ll bet you…
all i ask for is an occasional hug, and that will help mekill this emotional bug..
I think its a little ridiculous that 3 years later, the story is strangely similar. I can’t and I won’t dwell on the past. My life back then was nothing like it is now, and for that, I am truly greatful. I’ve waited this long (the better part of eight years) so, whats a little longer? For now, I have my music, my writing (well some of it) and my shopping. Stay tuned, because things will be making a sharp turn… REAL. SOON.