I've been talking about it for over a year now, and in less than a year I'll be moving to Portland, Oregon for health and professional reasons. The climate will be good for my seasonal respiratory allergies, and it's a great environment to write about d-i-y, indie, and underground art - and to study publishing in a supportive educational setting. June 5th is the move date, after I complete my commitment to the local ISD (yeah, I'll be molding/warping young minds for one school year). I'm also sticking around to help out with my sister's family and house. I will continue to support and promote local music. The skyline on the blog banner of diy revolution may change, but not my love for locally produced art and entertainment. I can thank living in Austin for almost 15 years for that love. It's going to be tough leaving some of the people and places I love, but change isn't always easy.

I'm going to miss my family and David so much... My sister mentioned moving with me when things weren't going so great with her hubby, but things are alright now. Sort of... I wouldn't argue if she decided to move with the kids. Then it would just be David I'd miss a lot. Who knew I could grow so attached to another human being in such a short time. I didn't plan on it. I planned on being single and free before I moved. I'll miss sharing his bed, snuggling and spooning and napping the most. I never knew I liked spooning and napping till I met him... David may be 21 years older, but when I see him so content, eyes closed, with a slight smile, it's like he's discovered the fountain of youth. I'm completely over (slightly) younger men, even though I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for a few of them - but it's more of a sisterly affection now. And my mistake crushing on the arrogant C.L. is a laughable distant memory. If I can afford it, I'll buy David a ticket to visit me for a week after I move. Does Southwest Airlines fly from Austin to Portland?

After a round of MySpace Karaoke with my nieces last week, my crappy and not so old PC froze for the last time. Now I'll never get to meet Alanis Morissette. Damn... After several attempts to revive it, the countless keyboard and mouse errors, as well as a recent power issue due to a trojan/virus thingy, forced me to accept that my Dell was dead. Dude.

The PC and Windows XP are virus-ridden disasters (and I'm sure Vista isn't much better). It was time to go back to Apple Mac, from my good old college daze. While most of the kids were typing away on their PCs, or logging into the old IBMs in the computer lab at the UGLy (before a UT dropout introduced a better PC), I chose to work on the Mac. PCs may be plentiful and cheaper, but you get what you pay for. And you pay some more.... But I refuse to pay money to get it fixed after investing time and money reviving the same computer a few weeks earlier. Now when I could get a refurbished iMac for the same cost to fix or replace it (actually a lot less).

So after surviving rocky relationships with two Dells and one HP since the late '90s, I'm starting over with Apple. I'm such a merry widow! It's great, not having to worry about spyware and viruses every time I log onto the internet. I still have virus protection, just in case, but I'm having a ball with faster and more efficient searches, downloads, and uploads. And although it pisses me off that some cheap/free graphics programs I used for my PCs aren't available for Mac, I'm still impressed with what I have to work with.

I can hardly wait till I can afford a MacBook... Maybe I'll throw a party. Kind of like a wedding reception...

Skinemax - I mean Cinemax - is still the best channel to watch soft porn late nights. I wish my boyfriend was here watching it with me, but I'm home alone, watching a dirty movie that exploits (and unintentionally satirizes) the Tarzan myth. And the acting is absolutely atrocious - and hilarious. I find myself laughing at the trite writing and acting. Good gawd, the acting is awful... especially the guy playing the boyfriend of the heiress. The electronic keyboard scoring is still in effect in 21st century, but I must applaud the editor, who obviously doesn't take his (or her) job too seriously. Watch the montage travel scene, and you'll know what I mean. And yes, there's a man in a gorilla suit, and a weirdo scientist. Wish I could fast forward through the sex parts to get to the bad acting. It's that fucking funny... And thanks to digital cable I've discovered that there are two other Skinemx flicks on right now. I may have to set the DVR. Ha-ha...

Wish I could find a video clip. if I do, I'll definitely append it to this blog.

7 Dirty Words


Pro Life is Anti Woman


George Carlin on MSNBC Countdown (for Janine ;-)

I'm sneaking in a quick "friends" only blog while my boyfriend sleeps peacefully in the next room.

Today I got the best news of my life: I have severe hypertension. My blood pressure is high, even higher than a lot of other at risk African-Americans. This means I have to start taking medicine (as of yesterday), start relaxing and napping, start eating better (even after my improved diet - even less sodium), and start rigorous exercising almost every day.

It's all about starting a new lifestyle.

I feel so ill at the moment (so much so I have to monitor my blood pressure when I wake up again)... But I feel so blessed and lucky to have supportive and loving family, friends, and a boyfriend who will keep me accountable. Thanks to them and a healthier lifestyle, I'm going to be the silver haired seventy-year-old fox mistaken for a fifty-year-old cougar.

Amen!

My oldest niece seems to be vaguely aware I'm upset over something, and just gave me a hug. Ironically, my sister thanks me for showing her how to give "the world's best hugs".

I've seen a lot of posters all over Austin and the outskirts of the city limits, and I was surprised that an area predominately liberal on so many issues and open minded is jumping on a political bandwagon so readily. Is it because Ron Paul seems so amiable and he is from Texas? These are all good traits, but let's not forget Bush was an amiable Texan, and what good did supporting him really accomplish? He's not considered a Republican frontrunner, but a lot of young people (mostly caucasian, age 18-45) appear to support him wholeheartedly. A few MySpace friends in their twenties and thirties who I don't consider racist are MySpace friends with him, which alarms me because of his alarming views about Americans of African descent, Jews, and homosexuals. I'm not voting for Ron Paul because he represents all that is wrong with most of the Republican party, despite his anti-war stance. I'm an independent voter who has supported Republican as well as Democrat candidates, but the conservative party has never truly represented me because I'm a woman of African and American Indian descent who will not stand for bigotry or intolerance of any kind because it degrades humanity. Because of the Ron Paul bandwagon and the apparent ignorance (or ignoring) of his personal views, I'm compelled to take inventory of the good and the bad points about Paul's political and worldview, explaining why a vote for Ron Paul is not a vote for liberty and justice for all.

"Pros"

Ron Paul the only Republican/GOP candidate who is anti-war and Libertarian in his views. (Make fun of the Libertarians, but they make some good points about our constitutional rights and freedoms.)

Protect America From The Protect America Act:
http://www.antiwar.com/paul/


"Cons"

Ron Paul is also openly anti-choice, anti-semitic, homophobic, and racist. So when Paul refers to America in his impassioned Protect America plea, he is not a representing all Americans.

Ron Paul's Race Problem:
http://www.latestpolitics.com/blog/2007/05/ron-pauls.html

Ron Paul '90s newsletters rant against blacks, gays:
http://www.cnn.com/2008/POLITICS/01/10/paul.newsletters/

Well, my bubble has burst. I didn't realize how many CDs still need reviewing (rewriting from bad notes, really), and how slowly I've been reading the latest book I received. I only have a few weeks to get things done, and my mind was somewhere floating in a bubble of Saturday's musical bliss.

And when we were telling the kids bedtime stories tonight, and reading this trite Disney® Princess book (I wanted to hurl the shrimp linguini I had finished eating), my sister gets this really bad attitude* with me, asking me why I'm not working on those three children's stories I started working on so long ago. She also asks why I'm not pursuing my first passion wholeheartedly anymore - writing fiction. She told me I was not using my true talents by focusing on music.

Since I started writing about music again (after a 9 month break - about August 2006 to April 2007) I have been neglecting the worlds of fictions and poetry. One of these children's stories I stopped writing was based on an idea I'd been working on before our mother died - in November 2005. I haven't written any fiction in almost two months, and I've neglected poetry.

My sister also mentioned writing about what I know from growing up- what I've experienced and the stories I've been told as an African/American Indian/Creole girl who grew up in Southeast Texas, and spent summers in Central Louisiana. There are at least two novels I haven't written based on these stories. Maybe more. It may take years of research and writing before they are completed, but it's time I made the sacrifice for the love of these stories. Today.

Today I realized I haven't finished what I've started, and I'm not doing what I love because I haven't been inspired. It's time to get inspired and stop making excuses and managing my time so poorly. It's time to make time... To write everyday - to dive into the narrative worlds I have always loved. Music journalism is fun, but it's not my greatest passion, and it's not going to pay the rent.

So after I've finished the CD reviews and the few interviews with local musicians I planned, I'm devoting most of my time to writing art, entertainment and culture articles, in between researching and writing fiction.

And the poetry will return to water my life again - a raincloud threatening to burst over a parched, neglected garden.

*Addendum: I suppose she's showing concern, and her bad attitude is more like disgust for my lack of passion about telling - or writing - stories.

Warning: The following blog is a dull synopsis of my working life.

The Bad News First:

Although my work contract was terminated and I wasn't given a new assignment with the temp agency, I won't be receiving unemployment insurance payment. Basically, I was screwed over and even if I appeal, it could take weeks (up to 6 weeks) before a result. My annuity is being used to my share of the mortgage now and my savings have dwindled thanks to high utility bills, which sets back my move to Portland at least one month. (Maybe up to three months if my tax refund isn't much.) I won't be receiving a paycheck for writing in at least a month (I have to wait until the article is printed), and that check is going to be quite meager compared to a month's salary through the temp agency.

And Now The Good News:

I have been doing an independent job search, and I will most likely have a job offer by next week, and the job training will be a breeze because I've done it before. It's a decent wage day gig, and I will actually get to use my degree. Even if there is a lay-off, I will probably have saved enough to not worry, and have a full-time position lined up by then. I'm living very cheaply. It's times like these that make me glad I was raised to be "low maintenance". But I know in a month I will be nearly broke. With this temporary work I will have a little security, and time to write, especially if I'm fortunate enough to work from home full-time. Regardless if my job is at home or on site, an earlier work schedule means I will still be able to help my nephew and niece with their homework after school, and help with housekeeping when their dad is asleep during the day. (He works a grueling night shift now.) My old job couldn't guarantee me this kind of schedule.

So I'm taking the good with the bad, and applying for temporary and part-time work to make sure I don't put off the move a year.

Although there have been some recent events in my personal life that may make it a challenge to move - emotionally - and they have nothing to do with my family.

G_d has a sense of humor when it comes to my love life. She's funny that way.

I just had to make an entry in the public diary because I'm thrilled to know there's burlesque featuring BBWs!!!

Meet Big Star Burlesque!

Maybe I'll be bold enough to audition. Wish I still had my sexy purple wig. I lost it during the move from Austin back to my hometown, Beaumont back in 2001. I remember seeing it packed among some things in a trunk, but a few months later it was gone!

If I'm going to request an audition, I should practice in full costume. This inspires me to make a visit to Petticoat Fair and get a few lacy and satiny things, after I've paid the bills. I may also have to pay a visit to the nearest Frederick's of Hollywood. They have the hottest bustiers and bras in my size, or close to it. If I can't squeeze the twin peaks into one of those bustiers, I'll probably have to get one of those corsets too.

Forget about Victoria's Secret. There's nothing sexy in my size at that shop that isn't an extra large pajama set...

This also means I have to get in shape. I haven't been walking outside or on a treadmill in many moons. I blame allergy season and the lack of a gym membership, but it's time to invest in myself and buy a treadmill - a manual one, of course.

So when I'm not writing or blogging, I can walk while I read or watch the boob tube. And walk, and walk, and walk... It builds strength and endurance, something I'll need if I'm on stage - singing and playing an instrument, or dancing in a burlesque show.

P.S. Thanks Janine, a.k.a. jbluemoon for posting a bulletin about this burlesque show. I never would've known...

I received my first book from a bestselling author for review today. It took me a while to settle down and open it. I didn't know what to expect. When I receive a book wrapped up, with no clue as to what it is or who wrote it, I become a kid at Christmas.

I opened it slowly, uncertainly... And received a very pleasant surprise.

I've already started reading it, and look forward to giving the publisher my honest and thoughtful opinion as a reader. It only helps that I'm a longtime fan of the author. His writings have been adapted to the screen. One of those recent adaptations happens to be one of my favorite movies.

I wanted to blog about Martin Luther King, Jr., alluding to his speech and how I want it to apply to my life, to write about children who are home today learning from me about the holiday celebrating Dr. King's birth and life. But today I learned more from the children I live with than they will learn from me. Excuse the rambling and lack of proofreading/editing. I'm in a hurry to continue watching one of my favorite movies.

Today I woke up rather late because I didn't go to bed 'til very late in the AM, fixing a broken camera, uploading photos, and redesigning a banner for one of my favorite bands. I was awakened by two young nieces calling me to wake up, turning on the light above, delivering a gift - wrapped in shelf lining - not the stick kind. My oldest niece placed it on the left side of my queen size bed as an offering to the queen of Aunts. I felt so loved at that moment, and thought nothing could beat it - my nieces offering me a humbly wrapped surprise. Cool C and Baby A (my nicknames for them) seemed very eager for me to open the surprise, but I could barely open my eyes. Thankfully, these usually impatient children (I'd like to meet a very patient child) gave me time to get up from my slump of slumber and grab a glass of cranberry juice and a bowl of cereal before dragging me from the kitchen table back to my room.

I unwrapped the gift slowly, building the suspense. The kids were fidgeting around so much, I thought they were going to jump out of their socks. Inside the soft package was a sleeping mask. But not just any old sleeping mask. It is the fanciest one I've ever seen. Silver (my favorite metal), and purple (my favorite color) with just a touch of pink (thank goodness). Plastic jewels are on the side, and stitched in purple are the words "High Maintenance".

I couldn't help but laugh, and I think Cool C, the oldest, was a little confused by my reaction. One day I will have to explain irony to her. I am definitely not high maintenance, and I thought it was interesting that they picked out a gift that was most likely purchased with her birthday money on their out-of-town excursion yesterday.

Yesterday, I felt near death. I was at work when it happened - when my supervisor asked me if she should call EMS. I felt crappy the night before, but shrugged it off as a reaction to the allergy meds I will no longer be taking once I move to Portland. My sister drove me to work (normally when we carpool I drive, but I asked her to do the driving because I was "out of it".) When I got to work I had to take the elevator up because I started feeling even more nauseated than when I woke up a few hours earlier. I thought I'd be fine, just sitting at my desk all day, but I felt worse and worse with each passing minute in that usually comfortable cubicle. After throwing up Pepto-Bismol I thought I was clever to bring (thank G_d for little waste bins) during a phone call (thank G_d for mute buttons), I nearly passed out in the bathroom stall. Fortunately I was in the handicapped stall and could use the side bars to get up and get in the rolling chair my sup provided after realizing I was on the floor. I threw up once more, amazed that I hadn't eaten or drank much since the night before, except a little water and gatorade, yet I was being emptied of all bodily fluids. (I hope this doesn't gross out anyone too much.) Anyway, by the time my sister arrived to take me home, I felt as weak and helpless as a baby who can't hold her head up or crawl.

My chest, ribs amd arms are achy, and I'm still having trouble sitting up, let alone walking without assistance. But after throwing up this morning (I lost count how many times since yesterday afternoon), my stomach isn't churning anymore, and the nausea is going away (with the occasionally lurching when I stand or sit up too long). I'm drinking Ginger Ale and good old water, and eating the occasional cracker. My sister is encouraging me to drink some broth, and I hope to eat something solid later this evening, if I don't throw up the broth.

I'm just happy to be home being semi-miserable, and not in a hospital being completely miserable. And one of my nieces has been playing nurse with me. A very mean nurse. It's time for me to go back to bed now, according to Nurse Carlyn.

I'm trying to understand who the fuck would kidnap a kid who was simply acting out in frustration with her father. A 14-year-old girl is missing, and I happen to be acquainted with her mother. Actually, I have only met her once in person, but I consider her a friend and a good soul who is being troubled. And I feel so helpless. There really isn't anything you can do or say in this situation, unless you're a parent who is missing or has missed a child. I keep hoping, praying (even with my little faith) that her daughter will be alright, and that she will find her way home safely.
Before and after these thoughts and prayers I went to Chain Drive and saw my not so secret crush. Not just because he was there. Honestly, I really needed to get away, and when my former roommate and his band mate mentioned his show, I hoped I'd be able to attend. And thankfully, because of good timing, I was able to attend his show. The only disappointment was missing one other band, Destroyed for Comfort (see YouTube). But I hope to catch his next show on Friday at Elysium. But here's a photo of the man behind the band Aunt's Analog, who I secretly call Little Meal.


Hottie du Jour: Matt "Lockemup" Lacomette, a.k.a. Aunt's Analog, a.k.a. "Little Meal". Strange random thought: I just realized I've never seen this guy wear a t-shirt.

Seriously, he's one of the subjects of a music feature I'm doing at the beginning of the year. But he's still hot and if I weren't completely opposed to acting out my sexual attraction with subjects of my stories, I would fuck him. He's one of a few reasons I will miss living in Austin for a few years.

I thought I could go a day without allergy meds, but the pollen is still getting to me, even after I showered and washed my hair. My nose is doing the itchy bothered thing, and I'm already sniffling and feeling thet ticking in my throat. Now I have to head out to the 24-hour Walgreens and get some drugs to prevent worse symptoms.

This is my last season of living under the thumb of pollen and people who think I don't know anything about music or that I can't write well.

FUCK CENTRAL TEXAS IN THE ASS WITH A BAMBOO SHOOT.

And I'm not overreacting. Juniper trees aren't indigenous to this area and serve no purpose (they're not even that pretty to look at), and a lot of people in this town are asshole users.

While my sister and brother-in-law are away for a while, I'm watching their wonderfully wacky kids. Right now my youngest niece is glued to the TV watching "The Replacements" while my oldest niece is vacuuming in her room (?), and my nephew is reading a TMNT comic book. Babysitting is so stressful...

I was supposed to be at Club DeVille, but instead I'm avoiding all the drunken, racist nuts downtown. And those are the cops. Last call will be extended an hour thanks to the end of Daylight Savings Time, so I expect there will be more crazies driving than usual. Sad but true...

In a couple of weeks I will have most weekends off, and I let my sister and her hubby know that I don't intend to spend most of these weekends off babysitting. Even if I am just typing at a computer mindlessly sharing about my boring life while the kids do their thing.

I'll be tucking the kids in bed soon after reading them a story. That usually helps them calm down and go to sleep faster.

Of course I had to do a safety test for the Halloween candy we’ll be passing out in our neighborhood, and one of the tests included tasting Wonka Howlin’ Laffy Taffy. The flavors include grape, strawberry, and my favorite, banana. And in the spirit of the holiday, there’s a Halloween theme joke on every wrapper. It’s amazing to me that they came up with so many jokes. Today, with a little help from my nieces, I "tested" six pieces of Laffy Taffy, and no wrapper was the same.

Here are some of the jokes, which are also great riddles and puns for kids:

What kind of key opens the door to a haunted house?

I guessed "A Skeleton Key", but was wrong. It’s a Spoo-key. Get it?

How do you fix a Jack O’Lantern?

With a pumpkin patch.

Okay, one more...

How do witches keep their hair in place while flying?

Scare spray.

...are men I can't really like or respect. I just learned that someone I am - or was - very fond of is a complete jerk. I followed up on my suspicions and the worst was confirmed. Someone warned me about him months ago, but I didn't heed it, and now I'm facing the cold hard fact that he really is an asshole. I was ready to be friends with him again, but fuck no. A part of me hopes he gets caught in the act and gets his ass kicked. Black and blue and purple. Seriously. Well, he is officially off my Christmas card list.

Why am I laughing about that last sentence?

I am such a goof sometimes. But I really am disappointed in him. There are a couple of married men I'd like to sleep with too (i.e., Daniel, etal.), but would I? Hell, no. You just don't do it - and not just because it's bad karma or morally reprehensible, especially if the person who is being cheated on doesn't have a clue and thinks he or she has a happy, monogamous marriage. It's just reckless and stupid.

I may be polyamorous (which is still debatable), but I wouldn't sneak around on my mate or mates to have sex with someone else. Either it would be a monogamous relationship, or an open one. And truthfully, once I stumble upon the man (or woman) who wants to be more than friends, I may not want to be with anyone else - even if I think about having sex with someone else.

My intentions were to dress up in costume and go out to at least a couple of places and check out some bands, burlesque dancers, and play a hand of blackjack and poker. But after work today, all I felt like doing was sleeping.

So I baked a batch of triple chocolate cookies for me and the kids, and now I plan to get to bed early and watch the rest of Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets on the Disney Channel.

I made the right choice, especially since I have to be back to work at noon. But soon my schedule will change and I may not be too pooped to party. I'll be off most weekends next month!

Gabriel, this guy from work I've been in love with since...June?... Hasn't spoken to me for a while. In fact, I got the impression he disliked me for some reason when he stopped making small talk with me. But then today - wham! He strikes up this flirty, long conversation with me at my cubicle, and I'm thinking - it's about time!

But of course, he's just a fantasy man. It's not like he'll follow me to Portland.

I wish he would... he's the smartest, sexiest, most confident 30-year-old man who doesn't seem to mind the fact that I'm black, overweight, and nerdy. I like that in a friend. And I dream about it in a lover. But I'm sure he was just bored and wanted someone to talk to. But at least he seemed happy to talk with me, joking, smiling...

I didn't notice what a terrific smile he has until today.