How you know you’re at WordPress sweet WordPress

I swear this environment is unlike any other interweb experience. I’m not even talking about the intimate setting of good quality nerds and their brain spawn.  There are other bells and whistles, nooks and crannies that let you know you’re home, where everybody knows your name (or at least everyone understands your quest to have—everyone know your name).

Here are a few things specific to the WordPress experience that I’m sure we have all come to love (or hate depending on the day).

  1. The oops-wrong-password/username screen.  It shakes, rattles and rolls when you get either of those credentials wrong.  Its like “wake up you idiot!!!”
  2. The ‘notification’ area.  I promise you won’t find that shade of orange anywhere else.  The glow is at once eery and awe-inspiring.  It can reduce grown men to tears with a single digit—0 or send his hopes soaring and restore his faith in humanity with any double-digit number.  I won’t even get into triple digits because they say ‘write what you know’. Yeah.
  3. If I’ve learned anything from my late night choice, Mr. David Letterman, it’s that the last item in a list should be the zinger, the humdinger…and I got bupkis. But I do love it here and I’m so glad I found my way over from that other place.

And now, the book:

Title/Day 81


Day 29 Della and Mac, up in a tree…

Something you could never get tired of doing:

This challenge is really making me look closely at myself, something I don’t always relish doing.  Ah welp.  I was fixing my thumbs to type (thumbs because I’m blogging from my phone because my Dell, her name was Della Reese, went kaput. I’m gonna get a Mac for my next laptop even though I’m not a fan of what seemed to be Jobs’ personal constitution. There’s a good article about him on  I’d put the link in but I’m blogging from my phone. Whew! How’s that for a tangent?!)

Anyway I was fixing to type I could never get tired of writing but that’s not true ’cause I really don’t feel like writing this entry today hence the flagrant forays. I love alliteration. 

Oooh! I got it! Reading!  I could never tire of reading. Blogs, books, articles, poetry, bathroom grafitti… I love witnessing other folks perspectives, listening to their truth and following their flights of fancy. 

I hope to someday give readers something to love. 

Day 28 Stars and Thumbs

Your favorite movie:

Allow me to jump up on my film geek high horse.

photo from

Whew! Vertigo!

So here’s how I feel.  If you really love film, it’s not possible to choose a favorite movie.  I think my film Sheik—The Incomparable Roger Ebert—would tend to agree.  When queried with the inevitable “whats your favorite movie?”,  he ultimately arrives at this most astute sentiment “The only truly honest answer is: I don’t know.”  

I feel you Roger.  I have zero film education/background save for my auto-didactically informed estimation of what makes good cinema.  For me its these few things:

  • no matter how outrageous the subject matter, does it ring true?
  • does the film lift, carry and then place the voyeur gently on the ground—or does it drop you with a thud?
  • does it tell a complete tale? and accomplish what it set out to do (make you laugh, cry, think)?

No, I don’t have a favorite film but I do have female and male lead types that I’m partial to.  I love my men wounded but transendentally aware like Randy “The Ram” Robinson in The Wrestler and Bob Harris in Lost in Translation.  I like them slightly twisted and dark but still managing to be the most ethereal thing on the screen like Karl Childers in Sling Blade and Jules Winnfield in Pulp Fiction.  I like them unapologetically un-normal and endearing like Andy Stitzer in The 40 Year Old Virgin and Charlie Chaplin in Chaplin.

As for the ladies.  I like my female leads remarkable in ways other than beauty, like Annie Hall in Annie Hall, Celie in The Color Purple and Ruby in Cold Mountain.  I like for them to be the smartest, most insightful thing on the screen—if not the most vulnerable—like Addie Loggins in Paper Moon and June Carter Cash in Walk the Line.

So there you have it.  I shall now dismount the steed I rode in on.  His name you ask—what else would an aspiring film snob name a pet?  Rosebud of course.

Day 27 the only constant… AKA we can’t afford to be innocent



A picture of you one year ago and now. How have you changed since then?:

I guess I need to figure out today’s date to do this one. I swear the days are running together.  Whats the remedy for that? A vacation? A career change? A new hair color? A crime spree?  KIDDING! sheesh.

OK. So last October I was still on cloud 9 for having just completed my Master’s.  This October finds me asking “where’s the job?”  I digress. But not yet. Ahem.

I AM THE 99%!!!

Yeah. Now I’ll digress.

They asked how have I changed. I’ve probably become more of a realist, more fearless and more aware of what my convictions are—the better to champion them.  Speaking of which, I need to finish packing my occupy rucksack and go join my people. A change gon’ come!

Day 26 With arms wide open…


A picture of somewhere you’ve been:

This is me in Africa. I honestly don’t remember whether this picture was taken in Morocco or around Goree Island.  Judging from the somber draw to my face I’d guess Goree.

My Africa trip was the medicine I didn’t know I needed.  I was a typical teen, a tad self centered, jaded and completely convinced I had all the answers.  The Africa trip quieted my internal noise pollution and shifted something in my soul…

Here’s a poem I wrote about my trip:

Prelude to shahada

there is a night worthy of climbing into, with whispered prayers ebbing… Laillah-ha-illalah
and flowing …Subhanallah…

there are horizon’s worth breathlessly chasing,

and the breezes? enlivening, more honest.
the night’s lights assured a young girl she was on the cusp of something great… over there,

sweet smoke and wisps of the wash woman’s soap float on enchanted air.
there are trees with perfect silhouettes, boughs that beckon east and west,
o’ how capable those arms and how welcoming, i was home over there.

Day 25 From soup to nuts

What’s in your purse?

Didn’t we cover something like this already?  All up in my purse and stuff. Srong witchu?  How about I tell you what ain’t in my purse:

  • Enough money
  • A wallet–never could get with those contraptions
  • A mirror–the kitchen sink in there would probably damage it (Shout out to the big purse crew!  Spinal alignment be darned!)
  • Gum–I keep it at work because my kids raid my purse and borrow my gum
  • Un-occupied space–I’ve got mail and receipts in there from 2009 (see #1 on this list for the import of reciepts )

Day 24

A photo of something that means a lot to you.

‘A lot’ is an understatement.  The Criterion, The Guide, The Light…Al-Quran means everything to me. May Allah keep me on the siraatil mustaaqeem. Ameen.

Focusing on Day 13 of the 30 day blogging challenge

 Your favorite musician and why?

do people really have a favorite musician? i mean like really? i for one can’t qualify any one artist as my absolute favorite.  but i guess there are a top 3 or so.  before my great gettin’ up mornin’ i HAFTA see stevie wonder in concert. so he’s way up there for me.

hmm. who else? i’ll cheat and re-visit my answers from one of those surveys that were all the rage for a while.  this one was called ‘Your own People’s Choice Awards’.  you rememba that one? you memba? you memba?

anyway i think i’ve alluded to my allegiance to that Baduizm in other posts so erykah’s a given.  it’s kinda hard to explain.  does erykah sometimes concern me with her over liberal, hedonism in a headwrap way of life? yeah. but i guess she speaks to that part of me that is  kooky and flower childy. ‘Baduism’ got me through my 1st complicated ‘love” and  broken heart and for that i’ll always be grateful.  and it should be noted that erykah’s is a controlled chaos. i mean she does bizarre well.  her shows never disappoint.  they are entertaining and engaging from beginning to end in a way that you wanna see her EVERY time she comes to your town. can’t say the same for jill scott or india.irie (this brilliant guy i know dubbed the latter paint.drying. HILARIOUS!).

and rounding out my top 3 is the  incomparable, the soulful, the ever-polarizing (according to one group [the right group] she can sang but ask those others and she needs to be that poor soul in the choir with their mic [unbeknownst to them] turned off) MARY J. BLIGE!!!

i dunno. Mary’s music is just my kinda music.  her pain is always palpable and her joy seems like real joy–still subject to come back down to earth but jammin’ and happy in the moment. mary gives a song texture.  i don’t really buy music anymore.  i’ve got too much else to do to keep up with the musical jones. but when i was in the market. i was buying whatever these folks were selling.

Day 23 and then He broke the mold!

15 facts about you:

1.) My inner monologue curses like a sailor with Tourette’s

2.) I got no patience

3.) And I hate waiting

4.)  I pray about that

5.) One leg has to be out of the covers when I sleep. No matter how cold

6.) I hate talking on the phone. Texting changed my life

7.) I count stair steps

8.) I microwave my ice cream

9.) I don’t like dry/shriveled fruit (raisins, prunes etc.)

10.) I love the smell of gasoline

11.) I push elevator buttons with my knuckles

12.) I love Jamaican accents

13.) I’ve never been off the east coast

14.) I reveal way too much about myself on the internet

15.) I don’t watch commercials


*can’t think of a better reason than new life to bend mathematical rules

Day 22 When they don’t like the cut of your jib

A letter to someone who hurt you/broke your heart recently:

Dear ______,

I recently interviewed with you.  I put on my career separates, toned down my earrings (My earring tastes tend toward the large variety.  My earring philosophy: they should be like celebrations on either side of your head! I digress), and took out my nose ring.  I updated my resume,  and put in significant time and energy gathering and memorizing information about your company.

“Yes I did get a chance to review your benefits package! I’m so impressed with your diverse offerings.  It really shows that you value the most important resource: people”.  This was intended to illustrate thoughtfulness.

“The article in ____ was particularly exciting. I admired the direction you chose with regard to ____. I was recently faced with a similar situation and chose to diffuse it in much the same way, etc. etc.” This was to showcase analytical thinking and a vested interest in the company.

“Do I have any questions?  Yes, are there any pending projects that the successful candidate would be expected to complete soon after hiring?” This, to demonstrate genuine eagerness and curiosity about the position.

I sent you a follow up missive thanking you for the opportunity and waited…and waited.  But you never called. And you never wrote. Until you did.

You wrote to say that I wasn’t the one. I despise those letters.  They try to sound so nice and humane; “while impressive…unfortunately …we encourage you to pursue future opportunities…”.   I would honestly rather them say “Piss off. You don’t cut the mustard”.

So I’m going over my coulda, woulda, shouldas.  Maybe I got there too early. Maybe I was pouring it on too thick. Maybe I shoulda wore the blue top instead of the burgundy.  Maybe it was my khimar (Muslim head covering)….

What ever the reason, you didn’t hire me and it truly broke my heart.  I’d just like to leave you with this. I woulda been the best you ever had. Believe that.