Thursday, November 30, 2006

I was all set to sit down and write this morning, and I made the mistake of checking my voicemail, and it had a foul message from someone. In my distant and recent past, I made the grave mistake of messing with someone who is unstable to say the least. Did I know she was unstable when I first talked to her? No. Did I know she was unstable when I continued to deal with her? Yes. But on some level I continued to interact(read: have sex) with her every now and then, because at times it was just convenient sex. Of course I should have known that anything that appears as convenient as that did will come back to haunt you like Nicole and Ron probably do OJ in his dreams. So as a result of me not using good judgement, every now and then I have to pay for it by hearing the types of messages I heard this morning, and it sucks. And, just to be clear, I will NOT address this shit if you email or call me asking me what happened. Just this once, just let it ride pretty please, and welcome to the dark side of Rashad.

Moving boy Brandon has a reggae happy hour/party on Wed nights, and I begrudingly decided to attend yesterday. I was dead tired, and I almost just went home, but I was convinced at the last minute to go, and it really wasn't bad. I am not a reggae fan AT ALL. I liked in back in college here and there, but that was mostly because the women who danced to it were so racy and provocative, and I thought that any music that provoked these types of movements was alright by me. But the fact remained that I had no idea what the hell was being said in the songs. Last night someone broke it down for me, and explained that there is traditional reggae(Bob Marley, Gregory Issacs, Peter Tosh) and I actually like that kind. I can understand what they are saying, and the message is pretty damn good. And then there's dancehall reggae (Shabba, Buju Banton, Beenie Man), and I think this is the kind I don't dig. Again seeing the women dance does it for me, but I wouldn't buy it and play it at home. I wonder if I sound ignorant right now..hey I'm just being honest here. And I refuse to acknowledge reggaeton here in the post. I don't even know why that was created.

A few weeks back, I posted a link of Denny Green, losing his mind after his football team blew a 20 point lead. Well yesterday there was calmer, more cerebral meltdown by Michael Strahan of the New York Football Giants. Apparently, some comments he made on his radio show were taken out of context(in other words, I said them, but I'm not prepared to explain them right now), and a female reporter was getting ready to call him out on it. And here is what happened.

That's all I have today

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

I was in the midst of a great mystery this morning on the train. Angela Lansbury and Columbo combined would have truly been stumped by this conundrum I found myself in. I was surrounded by professional people on the train, and I say that because sometimes kids and "regular" people are on the train during my rush hour commute. But on this particular morning, everyone had on suits and business casual attire. By no means does this mean you are a "professional" but for the purposes of this blog entry, it means exactly that. Anyway, I was standing there, and all of a sudden the strong, fierce stench of urine came over me. And when I say fierce, I am not at all exaggerating. And I was thoroughly perplexed, because I couldn't really see anybody who had that pee pee look, and I definitely didn't see anyone who looked homeless or stank so I was just confused. But clearly I wasn't the only one who smelled it, because as the smell traveled, everyone starting making the bitter beer face. Eventually I came to the conclusion that someone in nice clothing, just lost total control of their urinary powers and they sat silently as it ran down their leg slowly. That couldn't have been a good feeling. Sadly, I found this both amusing and disgusting.

I was late coming into work this morning, because I had to get some court documents for a friend of mine. While I was in line at the courthouse, I saw about 20-30 people who were headed to court. How do I know this? Because they were damn near bragging and boasting about how they were going to beat the rap. There black, asian and white kids out there ranging from around 20 to about age 30. NONE of these dudes were dressed for court. They may as well have been headed to the mall. There were bagging clothing, football jerseys, do-rags, and oversized jackets, and I instantly felt old. Color me crazy, but I thought an appearance in court was a serious matter, that involved serious attire. These dudes were taking this situation a little TOO in stride, almost like a badge of honor. I refuse to just pass that off as, "oh that's just how the kids are today", because that's just feeding into the low expectations. But still it was both sad and disappointing. These are the types of occurrences that make me wish I was teaching high school again. I couldn't change every kid, but at least then I felt like I was a positive role model. Now I just feel detached, but I know I can do something about it. I just haven't been motivated until now.

There is a jewelery store right by my building that is in the midst of a holiday sale. To commemorate this sale, they decided to put a dancing Santa Claus in front of the building. Now, this doesn't scare me, because the fear factor bar has been set high by the Burger King mascot, but still it is incredibly creepy. Not only that, if I was homeless person, I'd be organizing some type of petition, because it is taking all of the attention away from them. And yes I'm going to hell for that..

This song that I'm about to share with you, reminds of those Charlie Brown cartoons that used to come on when I was younger. Snoopy and Woodstock would be talking about how to solve life's problems, and in the background you'd here a song like this

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Author Bebe Moore Campbell died yesterday from brain cancer complications. I never really read much of her work, but I did have the pleasure of meeting her on one occasion. About 12 years ago, at my father's wedding to his second wife, I had the distinct pleasure of dancing with her at the reception. She wanted her husband to dance with her, but he was not interested. So me being the smooth 19 year old I was, I danced with her a bit, and I was lucky to have done so. Back then she was about 44, but she was fine, and very sexy. Although the whole time I was dancing with her, I was wishing her daughter Maia was there as well. She was equally fine. Anyway, that's my Bebe Moore Campbell story.

I know I shouldn't think this way, but when someone dies, and they are around my parents age, I get a little concerned. Once you reach the age of 50, things start to mysteriously happen, and although my parents are in good health(to my knowledge) I still worry. My mother has had back issues of late, and my father plays things so close to the vest, he could have all kinds of health issues, but i'd never know(which incidentally is the same way I'll probably handle it, this is known as Black Man Disease). I have friends who have lost their parents at a young age, and there really is no way to brace yourself for that kind of thing. Its probably extremely negative for me to even think that way, but I'm very much human, and my thoughts do drift in that direction. I wonder if I'd pull together and be a leader to the rest of my family, or would I become an extreme hermit and pull away. Who knows. My ex used to tell me that instead of thinking about someone's death, I should think about how best to maximize my time with them while they are here. 90% of the time, I do that.

Other random Tuesday thoughts:
-I have committed myself to do some marketing type things for my friend's business. I didn't tell her this, but I think I am completely out of my league here, because anyone who knows me(I had when people say this by the way) understands that my social skills ar extremely limited. Not because I CAN'T do it, but because I prefer to be a curmudgeon. But yesterday, in this here blog, I said that it pays to do something different for a change, so I shall try it.

-I have a recommendation to do for someone, and until yesterday, I completely forgot that I had to write it. I feel like a bad bad friend.

-I heard my neighbors having sex again yesterday during the early evening hours. Curiously, I never hear the man moaning or talking or anything, I only hear her moaning, which means one of two things is going on: 1) Someone is watching porn or 2)The woman over there has some serious self pleasuring sessions going on. Ideally, I'd like to think that it is a combination of the two. If that is the case, I see a trip to Home Depot and a power drill in future.

-I'm thinking of throwing a birthday party for myself once again. I did it back in '02, and it was pretty fun, and I had a turnout of about 20 people. I think I'd like to do something a bit bigger, but I am a little concerned about people showing up. I feel like I have a reliable friend and extended friend base, but you never really know.

-my financial situation is improving. that's always a beautiful thing.

And now for the musical portion of the blog. I am quite sure that I have linked this song before, but it is just a sexy ass song. I like Lalah Hathaway's husky voice, I like the music, and of course the words are nice as well. The song is called More.

Oh, and the spell check function isn't working properly on the blog, and it hasn't been for about a week now. So if you see typos, keep them to yourself alright buddy?

Monday, November 27, 2006

I must say I feel as good this morning, as I've felt in a long time. Yes I only got 2 hours of sleep last night, and yes I was an hour and a half late to work this morning, but it is still all good this morning. The bills still need to be paid, work still needs to be done, and yes I could stand to be a bit more consistent with my workout regimen, but at this moment, none of it matters. The start of this blog sounds like a Joel Osteen inspirational book, but it is honestly how I feel. I think in order to maintain sanity, it is damn near imperative that we break our routine and do something different. If you're used to waking up at 630 every morning, try getting up at 6 and seeing what you can do with the extra time. If you go broke every payday, try saving a bit of money. If you're used to older men/women and they aren't working, go younger, see if they bring you happiness. This is my PSA for the day.

A whole lot of writing ideas came to me this weekend, and I think for the next month, I am just going to submit an onslaught of writing material to any and every body who will read, listen or whatever. I've done some things here and there, but it really is time to show and prove as the older rappers used to say. A friend of mine basically called me out (again) this weekend, and it made me realize(again) that this writing thing is a gift from God(yeah I know....) and i'd be remiss if I didn't use it to the fullest. So I'm going to try from now if you see in the street throw me some motivation or something. It'll be greatly appreciated, and I throw you a shoutout in the back of my first book...way in the back..

And now, may I suggest to all of you that you go to Starbucks and get yourself a gingerbread latte. I am currently enjoying one, and I swear my nature is rising just a bit because of it. I'm usually not a big coffee drinker, but this one is so money.

I have an admission here. Before I out myself, let me say that this behavior is WAY in the past, but I thought about it last night when a friend of mine told me about a breakup of a friend of hers. On at least 4 or 5 occasions, I have stopped talking to a woman, in an effort to avoid buying them a gift. Sometimes its Christmas, sometimes its Valentine's Day, and in one circumstance it was the woman's birthday. Am I cheap? Not really, but holidays and birthdays often times make you do a quick assessment, which goes a little something like this: "Do I really like this MF enough to buy them a gift? And do I care that much about getting a gift from them, that i'd agree to a gift exchange". And 4 or 5 times that answer has been no, and I bail. I usually make up some bs, but I always wonder if they know the real deal. Now don't get me wrong, when I really like someone, I go all out for their birthday, xmas, valentine's day or whatever. But if its 50/50, i'll pass on the gifts.

And now, to offset that horrible admission, here is some Stevie Wonder

Friday, November 24, 2006

It is the day AFTER Thanksgiving, and I seem to be one of the few people in my building who actually found it necessary to set foot at work. I will actually be able to get a significant amount of work done sans the distractions. No one will come to my desk and ask me about my holiday, no one will bitch and moan about how much they ate, and sadly, no one will bring any leftover and offer me some. I appreciate the solitude.

So a day late, but certainly not any less important, here are a list of things I am thankful for:

-My son and knowing his whereabouts
-My new nephew, Nazir
-My family
-That I had friends and family who called, fed me, let me hang out with them(good looking out Michell), and wouldn't let me get down despite the fact that I wasn't spending my day in the ideal fashion
-that i finally started and to consistenly write in this here blog
-God(my bad man, you should have been first)
-my sex drive(My bad God you shouldn't have been put this close to this one)
-my health
-the fact that I have a steady job
-my boys, Kevin and Cliff who keep me sane
-my ex's who tried

I think that's about it for now. I could go on, but I've covered the basics today.
My parting gift for today: Love No Limit-Mary J Blige

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

In about 48 hours, millions of people in this country will be hitting the malls, shopping centers, so that they can spend insane amounts of money. This is a phenomenon, that I have never really understood. I hear folks at work talking about how early in the morning they will get up on Black Friday, just so they can beat the rush(which won't happen). I hear people making it seem like they just have to spend money on that day, because the sales are just too good to pass up. I mean is it really that serious(rhetorical)? I know I can be unusually cranky around the holiday season, so perhaps it is just me. But I'm not running around a mall or shopping center trying to dodge the crazies and empty my wallet all at the same time. besides, my wallet is empty already.

Rule number 4081: Never listen to folks' opinions on something, until you check it out yourself. I had been hearing mixed reviews about Jay-Z's new cd, and some of the songs I had initially heard sounded just ok; however, I listened to the cd in my headphones this morning from start to finish, and I must say I was impressed. It isn't his best work, but the beats are good, the lyrics are clever as usual, and its an overall solid effort. But it isn't garbage, like folks in internet land were trying to say. As I have written in this here blog before, it is very difficult for a rapper over 35 to stay relevant and interesting. LL Cool J has been trying to do it by taking his clothes off all the time, masking the fact that he has no lyrics at all. So I admire Jay's attempt to stay cool and act his age on this cd. Plus I was able to appreciate it more, because I didn't buy it. Someone was nice enough to burn it for me.

I know this will sound borderline gay, but I need a hug right now, preferably from a big breasted friend of mine. Sometimes you just need a hug to get you through the day or the week, and if you can feel breasts in the process, that just really makes it come together that much more. And I'm not even joking here. I've had an interesting week so far, and I could really use one.

and now, some Jay-Z: Intro

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

I apologize for that bullshit entry yesterday. I sat down to write yesterday morning, and I had nothing to give at all. I had lots on my mind, and for once I didn't feel articulating it thru the written word. I actually started and deleted for about 10 minutes, and then I decided to submit a haiku, instead of an entry. Writing haiku is not quite as easy as it appears, so I hope my skimpy efforts were appreciated.

I was having one of those days when I sit down and look at my bills and my finances, and I just get cranky and stressed the hell out. Just like I feel like I need a personal assistant sometimes to manage my wardrobe, I definitely need one to manage my bills and my money. Ideally? I that personal assistant would be with me everytime I got paid, everytime I got a bill, and most importantly, each and every time I made a purchase. Extremely wealthy individuals(particularly athletes and entertainers) have accountants who manage their every financial move, and I hear them say that it can be restrictive at times, but in the long run, it definitely pays off. I need to get me one of them..

So Kramer from Seinfeld, also known as Michael Richards, loses his temper and repeatedly says some racist things while being heckled by some black men in the audience. Then yesterday, he comes out and says he's not a racist, and that he apologizes to "Afro-Americans". This whole situation is just one big bag of wrong. First off, I can't even remember the last time I was called an Afro-American. Blacks, Negroes, African-American yes. Afro American? That just makes the apology a bit unbelievable. Secondly, comedians get heckled for being unfunny all the time, but what kind of comedian responds by losing his temper? Most good comedians have an entire stack of material specifically for hecklers, so for him not to have ready-made retorts was just an indictment on the type of comedian he isn't. And lastly, I found myself watching Seinfeld reruns with a bit or resentment yesterday, which may be wrong, but it is what it is(whatever that means). It's like finding out R Kelly likes underaged girls, and then listening to one of his older songs. You're not quite sure who he's singing too, so there's discomfort around his music, and for now, there's a bit of discomfort in watching the show. As I'm typing this, I'm also thinking that Seinfeld never did have too many black folks on there, but it never bothered me because it was funny. Martin Lawrence never had too many white folks on his show, and never bothered me either. Ok i'm getting unfocused now.

Monday, November 20, 2006

Monday Morning Blog Haiku
my weekend was slow
And this morning I'm sleepy
so haiku will do

Friday, November 17, 2006

How do I know that God(the Hugh Hefner on hiiiigh) loves me? As I mentioned in yesterday's blog, it rained like nobody's business(what does that mean exactly) yesterday, and I left the house ill-equipped to face this rain, since I left my umbrella at home. I had a meeting in another building yesterday afternoon, and upon leaving that meeting it was still pouring rain, but I was ok, because I had borrowed an umbrella from a coworker. And as of 3:45, it was still raining. My coworker came to re-possess her umbrella right around 4:30, and I was really wondering how I was going to endure the weather with no protection and khakis on. Lo and behold, when I stepped outside, not only was it no longer raining, but there were several rays of sunshine that were lucky enough to penetrate the rain clouds that had been so dominant the majority of the day. (That sentence and more just like it will be featured in my spoken word tour coming to a coffee shop near you !!!!). So I am selfish enough to believe that God said, Rashad I know you forgot your umbrella, but I have your back. And now, I'm going to need you to go to church on Sunday and drop a substantial amount in the offering plate, and tell me how much you're thankful.

One of the ladies I used to talk to, asked me why I feel the need to drink on Friday's after work. She said that seemed like a bad habit to form. After resisting the temptation to mush her, I calmly explained my rationale. First and foremost, there is something called happy hour, which is way too good to pass up, especially when you can get an ample buzz for $10. But secondly, getting up and going to work is difficult. I get up between 5 and 6, I shower, I travel to work and endure the train crazies, then I come to my job and fight off the work crazies. Then I go home, cook, watch sports, unwind from the day, and then go to bed where there is a 50/50 chance that I may not fall asleep right away. After five days of this, I need an outlet. Writing in this blog and in other places is cathartic for me, but it doesn't give me the type of release necessary after enduring a work week. A drink or two or three allows me to achieve this. I enjoy some wine or perhaps some margaritas, and it is very relaxing. Plus these drinks are served in a festive atmosphere which only adds to the good times. Everyone is either bitching about their co-workers, or talking about their upcoming weekend plans. And for an hour or two, I enjoy and need that. I have other unwinding tactics, but on Fridays, drinks are my weapon of choice.

A couple things occurred to me as I typed the previous paragraph: 1) I can see my mother reading that and saying to me that I am an alcoholic in training. 2) I should not have had to explain my drinking habits to that woman, and I can't believe I did it. I don't really trust women who don't drink even a little bit..just like women don't trust men who aren't into sports.

Anyway, TGIF.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

I spent the majority of my evening talking to friends and family, while sipping glasses of fine($5.99) wine. Eventually I worked myself into a nice sleepy state, and I went to bed a bit tipsy, but very happy that sleep would finally come my way. About two and a half hours later, my sleep was interrupted by a good friend of mine who wanted to talk. At first I did my usual, "I'm not sleep go ahead and talk to me routine"(which is bullshit), but then I woke up and heard what she had to say. And then the longer I talked the more angry I got, because I realized that going back to sleep was a dream of the pipe variety. So then I began to curse and raise my voice at this person for interrupting my sleep, and this was dead wrong. During the next hour or so that I stayed awake, I thought about my temper once again, and how it can get out of hand. I've actually done a good job as of late, of keeping it in check, but I lost it last night. I'm on the fence in terms of whether I need therapy or not. I need to rename this blog, and call it the "Sleep Deprivation Chronicles", because that's where all my material is coming from.

Other morning observations:

- I forgot my umbrella this morning, and it is raining like Noah's arrival is pending. When I got on the train it wasn't raining, when I got off the rain was here. I coolly dipped into my man purse to get my umbrella, and I realized it wasn't there. So I spent the next 5 minutes trying to be silky smooth while getting didn't work. Now I have to buy a $10 umbrella from the homeless man on the street, who I constantly avoid day to day..

-This is a terrible thing to admit, and I know it has more to do with my own insecurities, but for some reason I can't stand to see folks reading the Bible in the morning on the train. Every time I see it, I want to snatch the book from them, throw it across the train, and then scream on them and say, "NOW WHAT?!". Why can't they read the paper, listen to music, or read mindless sex novels like the rest of us? Its the equivalent of that student in high school who would be in class 5 minutes early studying..its like yeah you're smart and everything, but why make the rest of us look bad? Again, this logic is seriously flawed, but who the hell cares..

-Everyone needs to watch Scrubs. The writing is fantastic, the dialogue is quick and witty, and they are able to successfully walk that tightrope between comedy and seriousness. Excellent show.

-Everyone also needs to visit my friend's site entitled: Rum and Cake. As the holiday season approaches, these are excellent gifts for girlfriends, moms, grandmothers and men who have a touch of the gay.

And now, a song by Sting: Shape of my Heart.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

I couldn't sleep last night at all. It is totally demoralizing to look up at the clock, and realize that it is 4:00am, and you have not seen even a minute of sleep. And then when I finally did fall asleep, my alarm went off at 6:20, and I did NOT want to get up at all. Now my eyes are red, my attitude is poor, and I want to mush someone in the worst way. What's a mush you may ask? That's when you firmly press your hand on someone's face, and then you push them away. Its way more demeaning than hitting or slapping someone, and if you haven't had the opportunity to do it to someone, I highly suggest it. It's a good stress reliever..especially when you are operating on 90 minutes of sleep. I mean sure the person you mush may retaliate in a fierce way, but hey, that's the risk you take.

I am going to make an doctor's appointment today, so that I can get him to figure out the source of my headaches, because that's part of the reason I couldn't sleep. At first I thought it was related to me needing glasses, but it feels a bit more serious than that. I've gotten some excellent suggestions as to how I should alleviate my headache, but none of them are working, and its starting to get a bit scary, so I shall visit the doctor. Whenever I go to the doctor, I fear that he will ask me to take an impromptu prostate exam. Don't get me wrong, I understand and respect the dangers of prostate cancer. But what I do NOT understand is the barbaric nature of the exam..I think I've spoken on this before, but the seriousness of this subject cannot be underestimated. The ONLY way I can feel safe that prostate cancer is not in my body, is to bend over and have the doctor(who is a man) stick his finger in my anal cavity? I cringe while I type that. And when women tell me that I'm being a wimp, because they have to do gyno exams every year I want to mush(see above for the definition) them too. I am not doubting the discomfort of a gyno exam, but come on man women have been getting those for a good 10 years by the time they reach my age. I have been living 31 years without a finger in me, and now my world and comfort zone are being rudely interrupted by a probing, gloved finger with KY jelly on it...So yeah I hope the doctor can get this whole headache thing figured out.

One more comment about my sleepless night..when I have nights like that, I wish I could call up my ex and tell her to come over. I could have used some damn comfort, and between good conversation and sex, she would have calmed me, made me laughed, and then put me to sleep with an impressive array of body gyrations, pelvic thrusts and moans. That is very selfish of me I know, but sleep deprivation does things to you man..bad things.

Also, if you haven't already, I highly suggest that you spend an entire non-work day, speaking in a British accent. Not that fake accent that Madonna and Tina Turner use, but a Lennox Lewis, Jeffrey from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air type accent. It throws people way off, and its something I'm prone to do especially when I get tipsy.

I'm going to put this entry out of its misery..clearly the lack of sleep has affected my brain, as well my ability to be effectively coherent.

And now, some Al B. Sure

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

There was an incident at George Mason University last week involving a white fraternity and their mockery of a dark(no pun intended) time in black history. A fraternity decided it would be funny if they dressed up in blackface, and called themselves runaway slaves. Now when I read stuff like this, the kneejerk reaction is to always get angry, cry racism, and to figure out a way to punish these kids. But now that I'm older, I think its worth digging a bit deeper to find out what the root of the problem could be. I think one of the problems is that black culture is now shifting into mainstream culture. The "N" word is flung around regardless of the surroundings, jokes about racism, slavery, etc are no longer viewed as taboo or just for "us", but they are now viewed as tried and true formulas to get laughs. I remember Dave Chappelle telling a story about a skit he was doing involved blackface. He hadn't even gotten to the punchline, and already some white members of his cast were laughing, and instantly he got angry. But after Dave's anger subsided, he realized that maybe he needed to stop the skit, and eventually the show. Not because of racist white folks, but because they were laughing at something he was bringing to the light, without knowing the historical pain and perspective behind the joke. Dave said he felt irresponsible, and he felt like a sellout.

There are times when I am dumb enough to stop watching sports, and my attention veers to videos, and it is sad. As much as I love ass, I really don't need to see it in every damn video. I also don't need to see musicians throwing in my face how much money they have(allegedly), how many cars they have, and all of their jewelry. But sadly, in music video land, these are 90% of the images I see on TV. So if some group of white kids decided to put out a video mocking a group of black kids who were "BALLIN" in a video, is that racist? Or is it just some kids trying to be funny? Now if they throw in some slurs, it is racist, and if they throw in some mean spirited things, then it is racist and mean. But as a black man, i'm sitting here thinking, why can't we put out some other type of images? Why does it always have to be about ballin' and blinging..let them make fun of some other aspect of us? I don't know if i"m explaining this properly, but that certainly isn't going to stop me from trying and typing.

So what the hell am I saying? I really think that black folks need to be extremely conscious of the images they put out, because someone is always watching. And just like kids who think its cool to do with their big brother is or isn't doing, sometimes other folks look at what you're doing, and then decided that they can take certain liberties. It isn't right, and in some cases it is incredibly stupid, but it happens. And when it does, I think some deep thought needs to accompany those cries of racism and bigotry. And no I'm not implying all racism is black people's fault, but we certainly don't get to be completely let off the hook. End of sermon.

As I stepped into my shower this morning, I noticed there was a cricket in my tub. I have no clue how it got there, and I certainly didn't hear it chirp-chirping all night. The animal rights person in me wanted to scoop up the critter, and dump it outside so that it could be among the other rodents. But considering I was buck ass naked and pressed for time, I decided against that. So, I turned the shower head on the cricket, and I proceeded to watch it struggle with the water for about 30 seconds. Finally, the cricket gave up the fight, and it went down the drain in a crumpled heap of cricketness. After I cleaned the shower, I stepped in the tub, and for the five minutes I was in there, I stared at that drain. For some reason, I kept thinking that the cricket would rise out of that drain, strike down on me with furious vengeance, and punish me for my actions. I could not believe that I was actually sitting there in the shower scared, but I was. I wonder of there is any symbolism behind me finding and then killing that cricket.

Monday, November 13, 2006

You ever have one of those mornings, that when the alarm goes off, you're hoping and praying that the time displayed is wrong, and it really isn't time to get up. I've had Saturday and Sunday mornings, when I literally wake up and think that its Monday morning, and then something kicks in and I realize that its the weekend. When I woke up this morning, I was tired, my eyes were burning and everything, but I had no really was Monday morning. And to top it off, it was cold and rainy, and the wind was howling around my window. If I had someone to wake up too, I definitely would NOT have gone to work, but no such luck, so I am here at work, and surprisingly I'm not too cranky. I have the headache from hell, but that's probably because I need new glasses, that I've yet to visit the doctor for.

I went to a wedding on Saturday night, and I can't even begin to tell you how much fun I had. My date and I were a little late, due to the fact that she had to perform a million and one alterations to her dress, her makeup and everything in between; however, when I saw the final product I was impressed. She looked beautiful and she smelled good. Me? I cleaned up I was rocking some new Kenneth Cole cufflinks that I had purchased in ATL back in August, but rarely worn. The actual ceremony was in a church, and it was short and sweet. The reception was at a nearby hotel, and this is where the real fun was had. There was an open bar, that my date and I almost abused(we were one of the few black couples there, and to be drinking all the liquor would have been fulfilling the stereotype) it. I got tipsy off wine, and my date kept drinking champagne. The band was incredible..they started off playing Sade, "No Ordinary Love", then they went into Levert's, "Casanova"..other hits included "Fly Like An Eagle", "I Shot the Sheriff", and my personal favorite, "Slipping Into Darkness". To be honest, I didn't think the older, white folks would dance at first, but that was ME feeding into the stereotype. Everyone dance and had a good time. I tried unsuccessfully to palm my date's ass while we were slow dancing, but she wasn't having it..even though she did have quite a nice one. Overall it was good wedding, but an even better date. We laughed and joked the whole time, and not just because of the open bar.

During the wedding, I found myself wondering what it would be like to be married. My thoughts ranged from planning the wedding, to inviting my boys and family, to picking the songs, and everything else that it is involved in a wedding. My date and I even talked a bit about it. Ideally, I want a small wedding and a bigger reception, and I'd like to get married in a tropical environment. I'd get a jazz band to play during the meal and during cocktail hour before the meal. And then for the dancing portion of the evening, I'd hire a DJ to spin all my favorite songs. I think my blog would stop once I got married too. Either that or it would become less personal. There would be some thoughts that only my wife could be privy to..but enough about that for now.

I hate it when major events happen over the weekend, and then your co-workers want to chat you up about them like they just happened. I know Ed Bradley and Gerald Levert died over the weekend, but I dont need to discuss that with you on Monday morning. I actually wouldn't mind discuss the tribute to Ed Bradley that 60 minutes, but most of my co-workers probably don't even know how long 60 minutes is, let alone when it comes on. And I'm not even joking. This woman interrupted me typing my blog, to talk about Gerald Levert and how broken up she was about it. But anyway..

I'm all over the place this morning, so I'll cut this blog entry short.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

I was sad to see Donald Rumsfeld go yesterday. Yes he was and still is stubborn. And if the elections had turned out differently on Tuesday, you would have heard nothing about these alleged "fresh eyes" that are needed to navigate the war in Iraq. You would have heard how much stronger Rumsfeld's resolve was, and how he was prepared to "stay the course" in an effort to bring freedom and democracy to Iraq. But none of that happened. So why am I sad to see him go? No member of Bush's cabinet possessed such a command over the media the way Rumsfeld did. He wouldn't half-answer questions, and then dare a member of the press to ask him again. Unlike other members of the party, who were worried about how they were perceived, Rumsfeld could care less, and although that same arrogance and stubbornness led to his resignation, I appreciated the honesty and candor. So many public figures whether they be in entertainers, athletes or politicians, sit in your face and tell you what you want to hear, in a way you want to hear it. Rumsfeld threw aside that conventional logic, and for that reason(and that reason only), I will miss him. In about 2 years, Rumsfeld will magically come down with a case of Alzheimer's, and forget all of the lies he told to the American public, allowing him to be let off the hook. sorry to be so cynical.

I told myself I wouldn't keep speaking on politics, but given this current climate how can you not? This is a very interesting time politically speaking, and what goes on now, will affect not only the presidential election in '08, but it'll affect the direction of this country over the next 4-6 years. I find myself watching CNBC, Fox News, and CNN a lot more than usual, as well as reading any internet publication I can get my hands on. Of course this will never supplant sports as my viewing of choice, but I'd be a fool not keep myself educated. This reminds me, back in the summer of '05, I dated this dumb ass girl who not only had never voted, but she told me she didn't get into all of the "political stuff". And THEN, to further confirm her stupidity, she told me she had no clue who Bob Dole was, after I cracked a joke about him. I said you don't know who Bob Dole is, and she said, well should I? I told her that the man ran for president a couple of times, he does Viagra commercials, and he is the most popular one-armed man alive, and none of this rang a bell for her. That kind of thing blows my mind. Of course, I'm the dumbass because I continued to date her after this revelation, but who am I to let a substantial amount of stupidity get in the way of some easy sex from a woman with big breasts. Of course, this was the '05 version of Rashad..i'm all growns up now.

Speaking of being growns up, yesterday while I was riding the train, I saw one of the best asses I've ever seen in my life. I swear I just wanted to palm and squeeze it 5 consecutive times, and then I would have let her go on about her day. She looked to be about 25 or 26, with her hair in a ponytail, and she had on a business power suit. But her suit jacket was NOT doing a good job in masking what was an incredible ass. I was reading my favorite internet author at the time, and I just happened to look up and see her, and I just smiled and kept reading. As I got off the train she caught my eye, and in the most proper voice I possess I said to her, "Have a good evening", and she smiled and said "You too". She had no idea of the filthy, nasty thoughts that were swimming in my dirty little sex-deprived mind..then again maybe she did, thus the smile. As I am writing this, I am reminded that a friend of mine who reads this blog, told me that when I talk about sex and sex related comments, it turns her off, because she feels like those things are private. So that whole paragraph was unintentionally dedicated to you my friend..hahaha. I am a conflicted, contradictory man. One minute I will break down crying about my son, and the next I will have twisted fantasies of licking sweet caramel off of a woman's body parts. That's just who I am.

And now, one of my favorite Zhane songs:

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

I know the Republican candidates who lost last night(and this morning in some cases) have to be looking at President Bush, and saying, "See what you did to me you dumb ass". There are some political careers who have taken a hit as a result of this mini Democratic revolution, and in the case of George Allen, some presidential aspirations have taken a serious detour. I'll never truly understand why there is such excitement from either party when they can claim the majority..back in '94, Newt Gingrich led this same type of revolution for the Republican party. These things go in cycles, and as citizens all we can do is vote, hope we can navigate the machines properly, and just sit and wait.

The funniest part of this election process is the speech the loser has to give, when they have officially been defeated, and they have to concede. I don't know who made this rule up, but I'll be goddamned if I give a congratulatory speech to the man who just defeated me. Lots of money, time and energy go into a campaign, and a candidate shouldn't be made to concede the same day they got their ass kicked. I think I would ask for a recount, even if I lost by 30% of the vote. And then after that, I'd wait until the swearing in ceremony of the person who defeated me, and then I'd give a press conference and ask my followers to antagonize the new candidate as much as possible. Would this effectively end my political career? Hell Yes. But more importantly, would I hold on to my sore loser title? Hells Yes! The other silver lining of losing an election? Your honorarium goes through the roof. You can basically appear on any college campus, and they will pay you an obscene amount of money to run your mouth about life and your political views. You can also join one of the major networks, and get paid once again to talk shit about your political opinion(which must not be worth too much, because if it was, wouldn't you have won the damn election?) Anyway..enough politics

As I walked through the pouring rain today, I had a thought that I'd like to be sitting in the middle of a river/ocean/lake. I'd like to be in my boat with a cigar, my IPOD that would be playing smooth jazz(yeah right)..ok John Coltrane, a raincoat with a matching fisherman hat, and my fishing gear. I'd turn my phone off, and I'd just sit there catching fish, listening to music, and plotting to take over the world. I really want to make that happen soon. That's one of my fantasies that doesn't involve me being rich or having three naked women all over me.

My father sent me this picture (dated August 2006) yesterday, and I sat and stared at it for a good 10 minutes. My parents divorced in '93, and since then these types of photo-ops have been few and far between. We took a pic like this during my graduation back in '97, but my parents clearly weren't feeling each other back then. Now? Enough time has gone by, and everyone is happy. My parents are smiling. Why is my brother not smiling? He's trying to be hard. Why I am not smiling? It was 90 degrees and I am the only one in the picture who has to contend with the sun. Still, it's a picture that is special to me, so I'm sharing.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

I have a hole in my shirt this morning, right in the armpit region. Like a woman who puts on stockings hoping no one really sees the run, I am well aware of the hole, and I try my best to disguise it by playing it close to the vest so to speak. I know I need to give up on this shirt, and there's really no need to constantly sport it, but I can't give it up. Of the shirts I wear in my fall/winter line, this shirt is, and will always be my favorite. It's a deep orange, and I bought it from Banana Republic back in '02. It fits me perfectly, and I know they still sell it at BR, but who wants to break in another shirt of this kind. When people are able to penetrate my guard, and notice the hole, I don't even try to play it off..I just look at them as if to say, "YEAH, AND?!?!". I need to visit my dry cleaners one of these days, to get them to sew the hole closed. The last time I attempted to do that, I was told that wouldn't really help, and it could quite possibly tear again. So alas, I keep the shirt in rotation..I even wore it on a first date earlier this year. The woman commented on how nice my shirt was, and luckily(or unluckily) for me, the date never progressed to anything romantic, otherwise my hole(as opposed to hers) would have been exposed. So when you see me in the street, and I have on this shirt, kindly greet me, then the hole..neither one of us are going anywhere.

There was no internet access yesterday at my job, due to some outage, and since I currently do not have a computer at my place of residence, there was no blog yesterday. Not only was there no blog, but I couldn't check my non-work emails, my fantasy football progress, my favorite e-columnists, or any of that. I felt like I was back in the early 90s...but I did have my most productive day in quite some time. A few people called me and tried to act like they cared what I had to say, but they really wanted to know why the hell I hadn't written a blog. I must admit it made me feel special(not the short yellow bus kind) for just a few seconds. Given the minor turmoil in my life right, a touch of specialness(if you will) does the ego very good. I had all these things in my mind that I wanted to say yesterday, and now I have forgotten them. They have fallen into the unknown abyss of my fact that will be the name of the first single off my yet to be recorded CD..The Unknown Abyss Of My Mind.

I am in the process of letting both my hair and my beard out, and it isn’t pretty at all. I know the men and women at my job, are tempted to throw money at my desk..I look that rugged. The beard is trimmed and my hair is lined up, but it looks way more rugged than I typically allow it too. When you don’t have a ladyfriend around everyday telling you what looks good and what doesn’t, you tend to take a few more risks with your physical appearance. That being said, I have a wedding to attend this weekend, and I will be cleaning up nicely for that. I wouldn’t want to scare away the guests or my date.

I spoke to my brother this weekend, and he is definitely ecstatic about finally being a father. He also made sure that all pictures of his son were taken in masculine colors. Apparently the nurses, tried to throw some pink and green his way, and Jamal wasn’t having it. As he explained to my mother, they do live in Atlanta, and that type of thing has to be nipped in the bud quickly. Homophobia? Maybe, but at least he gets it honest. I can’t imagine how the fathers of gay sons feel. I mean sure they cope with it, and they never stop loving their child, but how do you react when you son says, Dad, I’m gay, I take it in the butt, and frankly, I’m loving every minute of it. There’s no manual for how to deal with that. So far so good for me though.

Oh and by the way, I think the blog powers-that-be have nixed my ability to post links to songs. I’ve tried to post links the past two blog entries, and I’ve been rejected. It is indeed the end of a 3 month era.

Friday, November 03, 2006

As of 7:52am when I am writing this blog entry, I still have not received official word that my nephew is in this world. I spoke to my brother last night, and he said that they were still waiting. My friend asked me to ask him specific questions regarding his wife being dilated and all that, but I am simply not equipped to get into that level of minutiae. I'm a bottom-line type of fellow, and the bottom line is that Nazir has yet to officially arrive. The good news is he sounded in real good spirits.

Ok, now this next point is going to sound real petty, and I am so sorry about it. But yesterday at my job, I had the opportunity to work closely with the other black guy who works on my floor. He's been a few months, and I generally ignore him, because he's the kind of guy who goes to lunch with all the female co-workers, and flirts, listens to gossip, etc. I can't clap my hands to that type of behavior, so we were on strictly head nod status. Yesterday, we were working on a project together, and we talked about sports, women, etc. It wasn't a bad conversation. But I did notice last night before I left, he gave me dap(a soul handshake), and said he'd see me tomorrow. Then when I got into work this morning, he said that he had some ladyfriends hanging with him tonight, and he wanted me to hang with him, because he couldn't handle them himself. It looks like someone is trying to be my friend, and I ain't having it. As I have alluded to in this here blog on many an occasion, I am all filled up in the male friend dept. I have no desire to break in someone new..I have jokes I like to tell with my boys, and just an overall familiarity, that I won't have with this new dude. We'll have to keep all of our pleasantries at work during business hours. Again, this seems petty, but no man wants the obligation of hanging with a new dude, or breaking in a new man into the crew.

As I am typing this, my brother let me know that Nazir Vonell Mobley was born at 11:30pm last night. I am officially an uncle. Oh, and Vonell was my late grandfather's(my father's father) first name. Good times indeed. My baby brother is now a father.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

I got a text message at 6:30 this morning from my brother, telling me that his wife's water broke and they were in the hospital. I sent one right back to him telling him that Nas(short for Nazir, the child's name)is coming. I can only imagine what is going through his mind right about now. The birth of a child is a lot to deal with, but luckily(or unluckily depending on how you look at it) I never got a chance to see my son born. My son's mother unexpectedly went into labor, and I had to travel from DC to Hampton in record speed to make it(and I got a ticket). Unfortunately, I missed the whole childbirth experience by about 30 minutes. That is one of the hazards of having a child out of wedlock..had that been my wife, or even my serious girlfriend, I'm quite sure things would have been different. Jamal is about to have a child within the context of a marriage, so he gets to see every step of his child's life..including the play by play, blow by blow, of childbirth. Jamal, if you're reading this, good luck with all that buddy!!

I left work yesterday at about noon. A series of personal things were happening to me at the same time, and since I have leave to burn, I said fuck this I'm out of here. I wrapped up what I was working on, and I left the building. But before I got on the train, I sat down to call my mother back. I was frustrated, angry, and I wanted to go on a choking spree, starting with whoever randomly crossed my path. While I was sitting there talking to my mother, a homeless man came and sat right next to me. He had a brown paper bag with him, and he emptied it out. It contained a sandwich, some money, and two cigarettes, one of which he set aside presumably to smoke after his meal. His hair and his Tom Hanks beard were completely gray, and this man was completely oblivious to everything around him, except the contents of that bag. Now just 3 hours prior to this moment, I had just written in my blog, that everyone has problems relative to their own situation. And now, my own words were staring me right in my face. Talk about irony..however, just like I wrote in my blog, seeing this didn't make me feel any better. In fact, for a quick second, I envied this man..he was getting ready to enjoy a meal and cigarette, and that could have quite possibly been the highlight of his day. The envy lasted a quick second my beard was better.

Directv is giving me a free week of NBA League Pass, which means I have access to every NBA game from now until November 7th, and friends let me tell you, 'tis a beautiful thing. From 7pm yesterday to midnight, I had the remote in my hand, and I watched 12 games. Of course I didn't watch any of them to completion, I just kept flipping back and forth, every time a commercial came on. As my friend said to me last night, all I need was a glass of wine, and some oral sex, and I would have been king of the world...well not quite, a brown paper bag with a sandwich and a cigarette would have done the trick too...Anyway, I'm sick of Lebron James and his damn commercial already. The NBA is so hungry for a star, that they are shoving these damn commercials down my throat. Last time I checked, Dwyane Wade had a title and a Finals MVP trophy, not Lebron. And why does Dwyane spell his name like that? Was his mother dyslexic or something? Shouldn't it be Dwayne? I'm rambling and nitpicking now, let me end this.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

It gets increasingly difficult for me to get and get motivated for this job, and that attitude has to end, and it has to end now. There are plenty of unemployed folks, who are concerned about money and where their next meal is going to come from, so what do I look like complaining? Well I'll tell you what I look like..but before I do. I don't like when people try to minimize your problems, by giving you a list of woes of someone who is less fortunate than you. While I sympathize with people who have less than I do, that doesn't mean I'm not entitled to bitch, moan and complain with reckless abandon. Everyone's problems are relative. Homeless people are hungry, rich folks are worried about keeping their money, fat people want to lose weight, skinny women try to outdo Kate Moss, and I want a more fulfilling job. Everyone's problems are important to them. The bigger issue here is that I'm working on a solution, and I'm being proactive, but I can resist a little complaining here and there.

It's amazing how oblivious to Halloween one can be when you don't have kids living with you, and you're not high school age. In years past, I'd give out raisins to kids, just so the word would get out, that my apt was NOT the place to go. I didn't want to just give out nothing, because then my house would be egged mercilessly. This year, I shut it down completely. I heard a few kiddies outside my house, and I just looked out my peephole, and then sat back down. Plus they looked a bit too old to be trick or treating. As my brother said yesterday, if you REALLY think about what Halloween it is a bit disturbing, but if you deny your kids the joy that is Halloween, you have to be prepared to explain. And if you deny your children the right to be children, they will grow up and build a Neverland Ranch, lighten their face, and then touch little boys, while becoming big pop stars..or something like that.

The NBA season started last night, and I am in heaven. As I have alluded to in past blogs, this time of year is utopia for sports fans. Both college and professional football are in full swing, the NBA has started, and in a few weeks the college basketball season will start as well. I watched Shaq and his Miami Heat team get spanked last night, and then I watched a Kobe-less Laker team beat the Phoenix Suns. To be honest, both games were boring as hell, and incredibly sloppy, but that's to be expected considering its early in the season. But I must warn you..I will not hesitate to mention the NBA in this here blog from here on out.

I could never be a monk. I go through days and sometimes weeks when I don't really think about sex, because of everything else on my mind. And then I go through these periods, like the one I"m currently in, where I go crazy, and I need(or at least I think I do) some primal sex for a good 30-45 minutes. Relief is in sight though...

And now, I present to you, the song was in my head this morning: