It was between this, the Isley Brothers’ version of ‘Summer Breeze’ and Bruno Mars’ ‘The Lazy Song’. Bruno got scrapped because he started to riff mid-song about having pre-marital sex. The song started off as a proud declaration of the young man’s firm commitment to the principles of couch potato-ness and quickly devolved into sexual deviancy. NEXT!
‘Summer Breeze’ is nobody’s sloppy seconds (does that term send y’all grammatical spidey senses atingle like it does mine?). The arrangement is so evocative. The vocals are—hey it’s the Isley Brothers. If you don’t know, you should. But I’m die hard team E. Badu.
All that to say that my mood is kinda easy like Sunday mornin’ and I’m layin’ in my bed, lookin’ out my window at the “blue and green, [while] flowers bloom and birds sing…today”. And I don’t plan to do much else.
when do i get to the cool stuff in this blogging challenge like “pitch a neat idea for a website”? incidentally my answer would be www.awkwardgait.com. this site would feature uploaded vids of people walking awkwardly. like the dude waddling ferociously to keep up his pants (a belt, a length of rope or suspenders would work wonders) and the woman wearing 6 inch heels WITH a pointy toe whose feet are screaming expletives at her with every step. take em’ off girl! i know they hurt! feet were made to spread out and grab the earth! those geniuses over at Birkenstock have the right idea! let them toes spread! lol!!!!
ok. i digress. suffice it to say that this topic kinda stumped me. i never was the kinda little girl who dreamed about wedding planning and wedding dresses. i did dream about having a husband and kids though. and i dreamed about having a quaint little bungalow of a house with over stuffed chairs and lamps that cast a warm glow 🙂 lemme digress again before i burst into this song (minus the bit about ‘dating a semi sadist’):
so dream wedding…hmm…my own wedding was quite simple. we had the essentials, me, him, the presiding clergyman (Imam), some well wishers and food afterwards. i did love my dress but it wasn’t selected after days, months or years of pouring over bridal magazines. i went to an Indian clothing boutique and in a matter of maybe 20 minutes I selected a beautiful silver 2 piece ensemble with a matching dupatta (an enormous, stiff, heavy, what-am-i-supposed-to-do-with-this? shawl).
the pc thing to do would be to say that my own wedding was my idea of my dream wedding. that statement’d be about 3/4 true. i’d keep the getting-down-to-brass-tacks elements of my wedding but i’d add something new. following the nuptials there’s there’d be a quiz show portion. it’d be after because the idea is not to encourage bride and/or groom to back out. its purpose would center on starting off the rest of your lives together with a healthy dose-o-reality. it’d have questions like (bride to groom):
on a scale of 1-5, with 1 being ‘well i never!’ and 5 being ‘sometimes a mans gotta do what a mans gotta do’, how likely are you to leave your toenail clippings strewn about willy nilly and pell mell?
i go to sleep with the tv on and if you ‘sneak’ and turn it off i’ll instantly awaken. is that a problem for you?
have you ever heard of a book called Fascinating Womanhood? do you understand that if you ever quote from it i’ll likely go check that book out at my local library (making sure its a hardback edition), and beat you about the head and shoulders with it?
now that that’s said and done. lets commence with the wedded bliss! 😀
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whats your idea of a dream wedding? do share!! if you don’t let me know you’re here it’s like i’m talking to myself. and that makes me look crazy.
my friend's dragon 'halo'. she's always ready for her closeup!
i think these are called Texas Horned Lizards (turns out they’re called Bearded Dragons). i know the obvious primary reason for having such a pet–low maintenance. i imagine they are pretty low maintenance. a friend of mine has one and you’d never know she was there. she just chilled catatonic like in her terrarium, occasionally munching a leaf and darting her eyes (the lizard, not my friend).
but i wouldn’t want a Bearded Dragon for the obvious reason. i would want one because…. **in bobby’s mom’s voice** ” they’re so g-darned cute doncha know?!” they are a ball of puffy, spiky, perennial-wry-grin having cuteness! i fell in love with these creatures on a visit to my friend’s house when, after some coaxing, i let her perch her pet lizard on my shoulder. her warm buzzing underbelly was beyond endearing and she stole my heart.
i don’t do pets because i have 4 kids. they’re from the species crumbmakerous-sanity takerous. it’s all i can do to keep them fed and watered not to mention remembering to change the newspaper lining their cages (KIDDING! sheesh!) anyway, i don’t do pets, but if i did do pets i’d get one of these beauties. or a legion of angry birds.
This pic was taken in a hotel room. My sis and I had gone on a little vacation to my home town Savannah, GA. The date stamp is wrong. It was actually 7/29/09. Seems like yesterday. I have a journal entry from that very day (actually written with a stylus on bound leaves of paper in an antiquated item called a book 🙂 ) I’ll share an exerpt :
“I have so many memories here. Some beautiful, some complicated. I remember my grandmother. She was Savannah to me. I remember coming to her for summers. It was like I couldn’t breathe ’til I got her in my sights. She and my grandpa’d be standing in their small tree filled yard (which had the best nooks and crannies. The shrubs often made for epic games of hide and seek.) My grandfather built the house and they landscaped that yard themselves.
I was waiting to exhale. Couldn’t do it til I saw her smiling face. Someone was waiting for me…and it made ne feel magical. My grandmother’s tiny Chatham City cinder-block home was an enchanted palace where I never failed to soar.”
this is a pic of jax AKA lady j. boone AKA Her Awesomeness. i’m blessed to have best friends within my family (shout out to Ihsan! Nonz! Ndo! Maj! Badia! Nia! Kub! Kareema! Za!) but ‘outside’ of my family this chick is the best friend any girl could hope for. she’s radiant, creative, avante garde (i remember in school i couldn’t wait to see what jackie was gonna wear 🙂 ), selfless, intuitive, wise and revolutionary! when we get into those golden years (God willing) she’s gonna be a jazzy old babe and i’m gonna be a crotchety, cantankerous old broad (see:
I did go on the occasional date B.I. (Thats Before Islam for short. The long version is Before Islam Scooped My Irresponsible, Capricious Arse Outta Heathen-dome). And I tell ya as long as I ate and he paid I was half a happy camper. My happy camperness cup went from half empty to full if the conversation was good.
That being said lemme tell you about my 1st perfect date. Landmark diner was the where. Back then it was a repectable dive with mediocre ambiance and consistently delicious fare–especially the cakes. Nowadays they pay more attention to the the snazziness of the joint and the food is mediocre at best.
We ate. He paid (halfway there! Bring it home baby!) We talked. I’d be lying if I said I remember the conversation but my date was a master storyteller; funny, insightful and engaging. At some point in the evening he wrote me a poem on the paper placemat, the kind with the gold Greek key border **swoon**. Is it any wonder I married the guy?
this was breakfast. it was a B+ apple, firm, not too mealy but not sweet enough. and it had a flesh wound. you know the brown part that you cautiously eat around? i woulda had coffee with it but the canister at work is empty. all these big salaries around here and no one (but me and my mere pittance that passes for a salary) buys coffee for the greater good?! ah well. off to unleash my caffeine deprived
the most reliable fruit.
fury–i meant friendliness on my adoring– i meant abhorring public 😉
to get into the habit of blogging everyday, no matter how seemingly inane, mundane or any other ane, i took on this 30 day challenge.
First assignment: A photo of yourself and a description of how your day was
i didn’t feel good today so i stayed home. i slept and ate. usually when i stay home i feel (hold on while i check http://www.thesaurus.com for a synonym for obligated). ok so ‘obligated’ is the best word. i feel obligated to do my june cleaver best–have house spotless, laundry laundering, dinner simmering and at least a decent pair of sweat pants on (the shirt-dress and apron are light years away. baby steps). today i felt no such inclination. i felt like poo on a stick. my man knew this, as such he shouldn’t have high hopes for orderliness and culinary aromas to greet him at the door right?! how liberating it is to be completely heedless of folks expectations! back to bed! hope my kids get fed… (couldn’t resist that rhyme. but let me state for the record that i know full well that my kids and my adorable father-in-law will be fed. my husband is pretty freakin awesome.)
This book was a treat. It really highlighted some of the absurdities of America’s favorite secret obsession–Race. I’d wish for racism and all those infected with it to evaporate but I doubt any one of us would survive that.
life on tuesday 