So long, Old Fourth Ward.
I'll miss you crack corner Shell station, and you, too, Murder Kroger. I would be remiss to not mention all you neighborhood whores and Ponce and Boulevard jaywalkers.
I guess I'll have to find a new lullaby now to replace the familiar sound of gun shots ringing like a hundred champagne corks popping on New Year's Eve. And should I ever need to call on the fuzz for help again, maybe they'll actually be faster than a pizza delivery now that they're not right next door.
Whoooa, lady love. Slow down there just a minute. You're only moving to Cabbagetown. All hope is not lost.
~ the lady love
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
more blah blah blah
I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that "Cult of Personality" by Living Colour is one of my favorite songs of all time. Please note: one, not the. I don't know if I could ever be so bold as to claim there to be a the. But one? Oh, definitely.
~ the lady love
~ the lady love
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
I'll Get Back To You Whenever I Feel Like It
I try not to let my A.D.D. win, but when I work, I get distracted easily by more important things like blogging, hence the multiple posts in a matter of hours.
Anyway, if your outgoing message on your voicemail says the following, please consider changing it:
"I'll get back to you at my earliest convenience."
Man, that is one of my pet peeves. You might as well say, "I'll get back to you whenever I feel like it" because that's what it implies. I understand if you want to sound like a jerk. In that case, you should just leave it as-is.
A good outgoing voicemail is tricky because you don't have a lot of options. If you try not to be cliche, you can sound pretentious ("You know what to do..."), but I also don't need the elaborate instruction on how to leave a message after the beep. It's the new millennium people - we're all pretty well-versed in the procedure of leaving a message.
If I could, I'd just let the beep roll without any explanation. I'd still have that annoying little automated operator lady issuing clear instructions on what buttons to press to leave a message or for additional options. But because I have one line for work and play, I must have a greeting that is business professional. So I keep it simple: "This is Love. Sorry I missed your call. Please leave a message."
But never, ever would I say, "I'll get back to you at my earliest convenience." You might as well ask people to never call you again.
~ the lady love
Anyway, if your outgoing message on your voicemail says the following, please consider changing it:
"I'll get back to you at my earliest convenience."
Man, that is one of my pet peeves. You might as well say, "I'll get back to you whenever I feel like it" because that's what it implies. I understand if you want to sound like a jerk. In that case, you should just leave it as-is.
A good outgoing voicemail is tricky because you don't have a lot of options. If you try not to be cliche, you can sound pretentious ("You know what to do..."), but I also don't need the elaborate instruction on how to leave a message after the beep. It's the new millennium people - we're all pretty well-versed in the procedure of leaving a message.
If I could, I'd just let the beep roll without any explanation. I'd still have that annoying little automated operator lady issuing clear instructions on what buttons to press to leave a message or for additional options. But because I have one line for work and play, I must have a greeting that is business professional. So I keep it simple: "This is Love. Sorry I missed your call. Please leave a message."
But never, ever would I say, "I'll get back to you at my earliest convenience." You might as well ask people to never call you again.
~ the lady love
I Cry Alone
I'm sitting at a client's office with my head phones plugged in when I Cry Alone by The Black Keys came on. You know it's the blues when you feel it like this. Listen to this sample. If you wanna be a cheap bastard and not buy the whole CD, you can download just this song (in its entirety) from iTunes for the bargain price of 99 cents. (It's okay. I'm a cheap bastard myself sometimes.)
My girl, my girl had a hold on me
So tight, so tight that I could not see
Girl, she had a hold on me, she held so tight that I could not see
My girl, my girl had a hold on me
One day, one day I let her go
It hurt, it hurt so, you'll never know
The day I had to let her go, it hurt so bad that you cannot know
One day, one day I let her go.
At night, at night I cry alone
I weap, I weap 'til the early morn'
At night, I cry alone, I weap all night, til the early morn'
At night, at night I cry alone
My girl, my girl had a hold on me
So tight, so tight that I could not see
Girl, she had a hold on me, she held so tight that I could not see
My girl, my girl had a hold on me
One day, one day I let her go
It hurt, it hurt so, you'll never know
The day I had to let her go, it hurt so bad that you cannot know
One day, one day I let her go.
At night, at night I cry alone
I weap, I weap 'til the early morn'
At night, I cry alone, I weap all night, til the early morn'
At night, at night I cry alone
Sunday, February 19, 2006
The Thankless Little People
Well I just finished watching Hustle & Flow, and DJay's (Terrence Howard) meeting with Skinny Black (Ludacris) reminded me of some of my own experiences. Yes, folks, I am a thankless small person - you know, one of those people who knew a lot of "famous" people before they were famous and has since been forgotten.
It's a strange thing really, going from years of being acquainted and eating Thai together in seedy strip malls to blank non-recognition. I guess when you start playing arenas, all the names and faces become a blur. Funny that when I ran into you again two months ago, you greeted me with a warm embrace and kind words expressing how good it was to see me again. Wait a minute, mister, at our last encounter just six months earlier, you had completely forgotten my name and face. So which is it? You know me or you don't?
Then there was the chick who got busted with me smoking a joint behind the house at a party. One day after her "big" fame struck, she up and gave me the complete and utter brush off as if we'd never even met. She went from extending big hugs to completely ignoring my presence. ¿Huh?
Then there's the (former?) friend who brought me back a bottle of tequila from Mexico for my birthday two years ago, then calls me a couple months ago asking me to write her bio before a Good Morning America appearance, but when I drop her an email extending congratulations on her big award win and success, she doesn't even bother to respond.
Oh yeah, I shan't forget the former rockstar roommate (whose sibling also happens to be a big Hollywood movie star) who moved back to L.A. and left me to shoulder his $250 in unpaid phone bills. He gave me zero response to a series of polite voicemails and emails trying to clear up the matter - well, until they grew impolite, but he didn't respond to those either. And to think I had cut your picture out of PEOPLE magazine for you!
See, that's the thing I just don't get about people's obsession with celebrities, because they're nothing special. They're just as big of assholes as anyone else. More people just know who they are.
~ the lady dissed
It's a strange thing really, going from years of being acquainted and eating Thai together in seedy strip malls to blank non-recognition. I guess when you start playing arenas, all the names and faces become a blur. Funny that when I ran into you again two months ago, you greeted me with a warm embrace and kind words expressing how good it was to see me again. Wait a minute, mister, at our last encounter just six months earlier, you had completely forgotten my name and face. So which is it? You know me or you don't?
Then there was the chick who got busted with me smoking a joint behind the house at a party. One day after her "big" fame struck, she up and gave me the complete and utter brush off as if we'd never even met. She went from extending big hugs to completely ignoring my presence. ¿Huh?
Then there's the (former?) friend who brought me back a bottle of tequila from Mexico for my birthday two years ago, then calls me a couple months ago asking me to write her bio before a Good Morning America appearance, but when I drop her an email extending congratulations on her big award win and success, she doesn't even bother to respond.
Oh yeah, I shan't forget the former rockstar roommate (whose sibling also happens to be a big Hollywood movie star) who moved back to L.A. and left me to shoulder his $250 in unpaid phone bills. He gave me zero response to a series of polite voicemails and emails trying to clear up the matter - well, until they grew impolite, but he didn't respond to those either. And to think I had cut your picture out of PEOPLE magazine for you!
See, that's the thing I just don't get about people's obsession with celebrities, because they're nothing special. They're just as big of assholes as anyone else. More people just know who they are.
~ the lady dissed
Friday, February 17, 2006
If It's So Good Then Why Does It Hurt So Bad?
Oh how I wish that doing what's right for myself didn't break my heart so bad. But I did and it does.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Let Me Die If I Want To
Tonight I got into a conversation with a couple friends about suicide when one of them told the other about losing our friend to suicide a few months ago.
A recurring comment that I hear people make is that suicide is the most selfish act a person can do. Then they expound by asking, "How could a person do that to their friends and family?" I do understand this commonly held point of view, but I have a different and - gasp! - controversial opinion on the subject. You see, I don't think suicide is any more selfish than living - or dying, as the case me be - by your own rules.
When people talk about life, happiness, and fulfillment, it's generally accepted that the ideal way to live is to make choices that lead you to your own happiness and peace. That doesn't mean that we should disregard the well-being of those around us, nor does it excuse bad, inconsiderate, and hurtful behavior. But it's your life to live, so at the end of it, do you want to have lived the way you wanted to or to have lived the way everyone else wanted and expected you to?
As I recently explained to a friend going through a divorce: life is complex, and making choices about our own paths can sometimes be even more difficult than not making waves. I for one can only hope that my friends, family, and loved ones will be forgiving, merciful, compassionate, and understanding for all the things that I have done and will inevitably do that hurts and disappoints them. The best we can do is to respect our true selves rather than to lead false lives. Integrity should be measured by how we steward the hearts, minds, and spirits of those caught in the crossfire of our self discovery.
And that's how I feel about suicide. Yes, I am angry and hurt because of it, but I've been angry and hurt by a lot of things that people do that ultimately serve their own needs over mine. So what's the difference really? Aren't we being just as selfish by expecting someone to stay around because of what it will do to us if they kill themselves?
Of course, if I have a friend who is in a such a dark place that they are contemplating suicide, then I will do whatever I can to support them and help them in their healing. But just like someone with a drug addiction, we can't make people do - or not do - anything that we want them to do. And so it goes for my friend who died back in September. If he was so unhappy in this life that the only peace he could find was to exit it, then so be it. It would have been just as selfish for me to have expected him to live in misery to spare my grief.
See, that's the thing about life: our reality is other people - in friendship, love, family, business - so it's inevitable that the action of others will impact us. The trick is trying to find a balance of pursuing our own happiness while being mindful of the investment we have in each other.
~ the lady love
A recurring comment that I hear people make is that suicide is the most selfish act a person can do. Then they expound by asking, "How could a person do that to their friends and family?" I do understand this commonly held point of view, but I have a different and - gasp! - controversial opinion on the subject. You see, I don't think suicide is any more selfish than living - or dying, as the case me be - by your own rules.
When people talk about life, happiness, and fulfillment, it's generally accepted that the ideal way to live is to make choices that lead you to your own happiness and peace. That doesn't mean that we should disregard the well-being of those around us, nor does it excuse bad, inconsiderate, and hurtful behavior. But it's your life to live, so at the end of it, do you want to have lived the way you wanted to or to have lived the way everyone else wanted and expected you to?
As I recently explained to a friend going through a divorce: life is complex, and making choices about our own paths can sometimes be even more difficult than not making waves. I for one can only hope that my friends, family, and loved ones will be forgiving, merciful, compassionate, and understanding for all the things that I have done and will inevitably do that hurts and disappoints them. The best we can do is to respect our true selves rather than to lead false lives. Integrity should be measured by how we steward the hearts, minds, and spirits of those caught in the crossfire of our self discovery.
And that's how I feel about suicide. Yes, I am angry and hurt because of it, but I've been angry and hurt by a lot of things that people do that ultimately serve their own needs over mine. So what's the difference really? Aren't we being just as selfish by expecting someone to stay around because of what it will do to us if they kill themselves?
Of course, if I have a friend who is in a such a dark place that they are contemplating suicide, then I will do whatever I can to support them and help them in their healing. But just like someone with a drug addiction, we can't make people do - or not do - anything that we want them to do. And so it goes for my friend who died back in September. If he was so unhappy in this life that the only peace he could find was to exit it, then so be it. It would have been just as selfish for me to have expected him to live in misery to spare my grief.
See, that's the thing about life: our reality is other people - in friendship, love, family, business - so it's inevitable that the action of others will impact us. The trick is trying to find a balance of pursuing our own happiness while being mindful of the investment we have in each other.
~ the lady love
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Gag Me With A Celebrity Fetus
Yeah, I know, celebrities are real people, too, but they make me wanna barf sometimes. If I see one more knocked up celebrity with her arms cradled around her belly while posing on the red carpet, I swear I'm gonna blow chunks. Don't get me wrong: it's great to finally see them out there rockin' their giant bellies in all their bloated, pregnant glory, but those Hollywood folks turn it into this disgusting sort of fashion trend.
Gwen, Rachel, you guys are swell, really. I mean, good for you that Gavin filled you with his man seed and you conceived. But please stop with your faux posturing. Please. That goes for the rest of you, too. Seriously, I am seeing it way too much. I'm sure it's natural to touch your "baby bump" to some extent (yet another term that makes me wanna hurl), but I am not kidding when I say I was sickened by watching Gwen Stefani deliberately wrap her tummy in her arms repeatedly for the papparazzi, and I can't tell you how many pictures I've seen of Rachel Weisz from different events in the same types of poses. Maybe it's just me, but G.S. looks like she's got a little bit of an arched back like she's trying to pooch it out even more. Yeah, we get it. You're pregnant and you're royalty and us common folk can't wait for the spawn of your crown. Puke.
In other news, last night I dreamt that Chan Marshall (Cat Power) had been my neighbor for the past two years, and I just found out about it. So we hung, and she wasn't crazy at all. She even let me karaoke to one of her songs for her. Oh yeah, and her hair was red and she had freckles.
Also, currently spinning in the Lady's headphones: redneck rap from Bubba Sparxxx. Yeah, the three "x"s are annoying as fuck, but I gotta say, I really like Bubba. The bluegrass and hip-hop fusion really works for him.
~ the lady love
Gwen, Rachel, you guys are swell, really. I mean, good for you that Gavin filled you with his man seed and you conceived. But please stop with your faux posturing. Please. That goes for the rest of you, too. Seriously, I am seeing it way too much. I'm sure it's natural to touch your "baby bump" to some extent (yet another term that makes me wanna hurl), but I am not kidding when I say I was sickened by watching Gwen Stefani deliberately wrap her tummy in her arms repeatedly for the papparazzi, and I can't tell you how many pictures I've seen of Rachel Weisz from different events in the same types of poses. Maybe it's just me, but G.S. looks like she's got a little bit of an arched back like she's trying to pooch it out even more. Yeah, we get it. You're pregnant and you're royalty and us common folk can't wait for the spawn of your crown. Puke.
In other news, last night I dreamt that Chan Marshall (Cat Power) had been my neighbor for the past two years, and I just found out about it. So we hung, and she wasn't crazy at all. She even let me karaoke to one of her songs for her. Oh yeah, and her hair was red and she had freckles.
Also, currently spinning in the Lady's headphones: redneck rap from Bubba Sparxxx. Yeah, the three "x"s are annoying as fuck, but I gotta say, I really like Bubba. The bluegrass and hip-hop fusion really works for him.
~ the lady love
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Manifesto
I am making smart, bold decisions again. I am putting an end to relationships and behaviors that do not nurture me - those that cause me to sacrifice my truest and deepest needs for fleeting contentment. I am taking a stand. Making a statement. Putting up a fight for my health: mental, emotional, physical. I am taking me back.
It was intimidating at first: my execution tentative; my heart nearly pounding out of my chest. But with each word, each action, each declaration, it becomes easier, and I become stronger. I won't be beaten, and I cease to beat myself up. I forgive myself for losing sight of me and celebrate becoming myself again.
Self actualizing breeds self respect, and self respect fuels my momentem. I am bulldozing my way through the emotional clutter and making my way back home. Home is where the real me lives. I've been hiding out much too long in this tomb of doom - that dark, dank place where I had buried myself so deep that even the very memory of myself was fading away.
I am crawling out of this hole and seeing more than just a sillhouette of myself now. I am seeing me. I am being me.
It feels good to breathe again.
~ the lady love
It was intimidating at first: my execution tentative; my heart nearly pounding out of my chest. But with each word, each action, each declaration, it becomes easier, and I become stronger. I won't be beaten, and I cease to beat myself up. I forgive myself for losing sight of me and celebrate becoming myself again.
Self actualizing breeds self respect, and self respect fuels my momentem. I am bulldozing my way through the emotional clutter and making my way back home. Home is where the real me lives. I've been hiding out much too long in this tomb of doom - that dark, dank place where I had buried myself so deep that even the very memory of myself was fading away.
I am crawling out of this hole and seeing more than just a sillhouette of myself now. I am seeing me. I am being me.
It feels good to breathe again.
~ the lady love
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
The Great Flood, Part Two
So, the maintenance people and building manager finally showed up and figured out what the problem was. My upstairs neighbor was running water in his sink, got a phone call, left his place and forgot about the running water. Jackass.
The Great Flood
My apartment is under water though I have come to realize that it wasn't due to the rain. I'm still not sure what the problem is since nobody from the management company seems to think this a priority maintenance issue. They haven't even shown up yet. However, considering I live below another apartment, it looks like it may be a plumbing problem at my upstairs neighbor's place. I kid you not, 3/4 of my place is covered in water. I mean, shit, had I known this was gonna be another Great Flood, I would've built myself a handy ark just like Noah did. Alas, there was no divine heads up here.
I sure am glad that I've never had any maintenance issues before. Funny after two years that I'm just now finding out what slumlords I have.
~ the mermaid love
I sure am glad that I've never had any maintenance issues before. Funny after two years that I'm just now finding out what slumlords I have.
~ the mermaid love
Monday, February 06, 2006
Thank the Lawd...
...I am moving, and just in time, too. After two days of consistent - though not heavy - rain, my ceiling sprung a leak. It's a mess. All of a sudden, the dripping sound became closer - the sound of impending doom. So close, in fact, that it demanded I hang up the phone and immediately investigate, and sure enough, it is pouring into my loft like it's got nothing better to do. Of course, I'm sure my slum lords won't do anything about it, as I have heard many a nightmare of the leaky roof problems plaguing the 3rd floor tenants. Seriously, a flash flood warning has been issued for the back half of my loft.
christ on crooked crutch. (Holla Tilt)
~ the lady love
christ on crooked crutch. (Holla Tilt)
~ the lady love
Fight The Power
First, I just have say that, at the moment, The Be Good Tanyas are doing me right.
Second, I've pulled a fast one. Last night as I began to write out my rent check at the very last possible minute, I got pissed. I got pissed as hell. Those jerks (my landords) cost me a lot of money in the beginning of January, so I decided that I was going to do what was necessary to recover the costs. That's when I realized that the amount of my deposit on my place was exactly $150 less than my monthly rent amount, and coincidentally, the amount that it ended up costing me to get my car back. So guess what? I'm not paying my rent this month, and they can keep the deposit, and if they give me any lip about it, they can suck it. In fact, I've made several improvements to the space - all new fixtures in the bathroom and a new ladder to the loft which replaced the deathtrap for stairs that were there before.
What are they going to do? Evict me? I don't think so, because I'll be out of there in two weeks before they could even get the eviction process started. Let 'em try to put it on my credit report; it won't matter, and more importantly, I don't care. I stand up for my principles. Call it civil disobedience. I've done it before. Just like the time I refused to pay the speeding ticket from that podunk Illinois town. I didn't deserve it, so I didn't pay it, and you know what? That was six and a half years ago and not a damn thing came of it.
Fuck you ABC Loft Company. And your little dog, too. And the horse you rode in on.
~ the lady love
Second, I've pulled a fast one. Last night as I began to write out my rent check at the very last possible minute, I got pissed. I got pissed as hell. Those jerks (my landords) cost me a lot of money in the beginning of January, so I decided that I was going to do what was necessary to recover the costs. That's when I realized that the amount of my deposit on my place was exactly $150 less than my monthly rent amount, and coincidentally, the amount that it ended up costing me to get my car back. So guess what? I'm not paying my rent this month, and they can keep the deposit, and if they give me any lip about it, they can suck it. In fact, I've made several improvements to the space - all new fixtures in the bathroom and a new ladder to the loft which replaced the deathtrap for stairs that were there before.
What are they going to do? Evict me? I don't think so, because I'll be out of there in two weeks before they could even get the eviction process started. Let 'em try to put it on my credit report; it won't matter, and more importantly, I don't care. I stand up for my principles. Call it civil disobedience. I've done it before. Just like the time I refused to pay the speeding ticket from that podunk Illinois town. I didn't deserve it, so I didn't pay it, and you know what? That was six and a half years ago and not a damn thing came of it.
Fuck you ABC Loft Company. And your little dog, too. And the horse you rode in on.
~ the lady love
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