Random Thoughts by Deionte

Random Thoughts #5

The way you make me feel
Friendship is a beautiful thing and I am grateful that I have such wonderful people in my life that I can call my friends. It’s not always easy being friends with someone like me but some how my friends manage to hang in there plus it helps that I am always getting myself into some type of crazy situation…kind of like the black version of I Love Lucy! What you guys don’t know is that usually what I post of myspace is the watered down version of what really happens.


I own my blackness
I got into an argument with this asshole yesterday at the movie theater and our conversation went like this but first let me set up the scene. I’m at the United Artist Theater in Emeryville on a date with the UPS guy. We went to go see Red Eye, which is a really good movie. Anywho, I was wearing a pink and white Abercrombie polo, Abercrombie torn & distressed jeans, brown belt, and white flip-flops, and yes they were Abercrombie. Side note about Abercrombie is that they are one of the few stores that make clothes that fit my fashion needs. I have a short torso, small waist with a big butt. Okay back to my story. So I’m inline to get some Red Vines when I hear:
Douche Bag: Hmmmm, nice outfit (whispers under his breathe)
Me: Excuse me!?!
Douche Bag: that’s some outfit
Me: What’s your point?
Douche Bag: Me and my friend were just discussing your type.
Me: And just what is my type?
Douche Bag: You know black people who don’t dress black.
Me: Please Mr. White man tell me how to dress black!
Douche Bag: C’mon you know. The brotha's don’t dress like you. Where are your baggy jeans? X-tra large t-shirt? And your Nike’s. I’m not hatin’ on you I just find it interesting that you rejected your culture.
Me: Ooohhhh thank you white savior for showing me my errors in fashion. I will have you know that I own my blackness. There isn’t a day that I wake up and wish to be anything else but African American. We as African Americans come in every shade of the color scale from fair skin tones to the darkest of skin complexions. And just like our skin our ideas for fashion can and will vary. Because I chose to stray away from clothing that popular culture tell you the blacks wear doesn’t mean that I am ashamed to my culture or heritage.
Douche Bag: I did not mean to offend you.
Me: You have a lot of nerve even making that comment in the first place. Who the fuck do you think you are?
Douche Bag: I have (me interrupting)
Me: Don’t you even fix your lips to say you have a lot of black friends.

Then my date Mr. Man showed me the treats he had bought and I forgot why I was arguing. I do love my snacks!

Shhhhhhh
So Mr. Man and I are in the theater watching Red Eye and there were all kinds of homo’s in the theater. It was really cool because everyone felt comfortable to be themselves. People were making out, holding hands; basically we were showing the signs of affection that we usually don’t show in public out of fear on confrontation. Anywho, we’re watching this movie and it is very suspenseful and my date is losing his mind and talking waaaay too much for me to deal with. The funny thing is that he was not yelling out things that black people typically say at the movies. Side note, what I am about to write is stereotyping and goes against what I previously wrote! Mr. Man was yelling, “what’s going on”, “no one on the plane saw that”, “ooohh my God she should run faster!” My while you have me yelling out “run bitch”, “whoop that muthafucka’s ass” and “Gurrrl, don’t open that door, bitch!” Finally we were shhhhh’d and we directed our comments to the two mannish looking lesbos!

I’m a slave to routine
For some reason I feel the need to have a routine for everything that I do and when I break my routine I makes me feel really uncomfortable. The funny thing is that these routine aren’t for the important aspects of my life, they are usually surrounded by the trivial aspects of life. For instance when peeing I like to flush the toilet and then try to race the water. Or the door on my Jeep closes automatically (I like that word) so I try to get into the drivers seat without touching the door. The lamest routine I have is something I call the stoplight method. I’m a special projects coordinator at work and needless to say I have tons of shit to do at the beginning of the week. I use to stoplight method to keep me organized. Red means something to get done within a week or so, yellow means finish in between projects or during free time and green means complete ASAP or shit hits the fan, not really but you get the point.

What do you want!
Okay so I ride Bart 10 times a week and needless to say a lot of my encounters with humans comes from the time I spend on Bart. Lately, I have found it very hard to stay awake on Bart and that makes me really uncomfortable. This morning I was on my way to work when I briefly fell asleep. When I woke up this Asian guy was staring at me. We briefly made eye contact, which is the last thing you want to do on Bart. So I start to look out the window and I can see out the corner of my eye that Mr. Asian man is still staring at me. At this point I’m starting to get uncomfortable so I decided to move to the other end of the Bart. A minute later I decide to look back to see if Mr. Asian Man is still there. As I turn around to look for Mr. Asian Man would you believe that he is sitting two seats away from me and he is still staring at me! He then starts to point at me with this weird smile on his face. I decided to get off the Bart and wait for the next train and guess who follows me off the train? So I ask what do you want? The little Asian man tells me I have white stuff on my face. No it’s not the white stuff you were thinking of. I use Proactive (the facial mask works really good!) I forgot to wash the entire mask off my face this morning. Yep that’s right I went from my house to Jamba Juice to Bart with half my face covered with Proactive facial mask!
This is worst then when I drove to Wendy’s and forgot to wash my Noxzema mask off my face.

I’ll sale you my soul for a full tank of gas
Okay, so the price of gas is ridiculous and I cannot deal with the amount of money that it cost to full up my jeep! The other day I filled up my tank and it cost me $50 and I usually need to fill up my tank 2 a week! I think I’m going to trade my Jeep in for a car because this is getting ridiculous. I tried to hit on the ugly Arabian gay guy at the Shell Station in hopes of getting some free gas and he told he only dates white men. That was a shameful day for me! Let’s never speak of this again!

Gassy Whores
Speaking of gas I am making chili tonight and things are bound to get messy in my bathroom. I make some of the best chili this side of heaven and soon as I get some free time I’m going to join those other losers and start competing in Chili cook-offs. The only down side to enjoying chili as much as I do is the aftermath of eating my delicious chili. Flatulence is no laughing matter and one should take this subject very seriously. A few weeks ago I made a giant pot of Chili and my roommate didn’t eat as much as I had anticipated. I hate to throw my chili so I decided to eat all of it. I ate chili for 5 days straight and towards the end of the week things got really ugly. The worst part of my weeklong chili marathon was when I had to go on a date. It seems that I had eaten so much chili that the smell of it started to seep through my pores. I was in the car with my date and he kept saying do you smell that? I rapidly responded with the only honest answer I could give being no. Then he started to sniff and then he looked at me and asked why did I smell like chili. I told him that every other week I liked to go and feed the homeless at a local homeless shelter and that I had did so that night but did not want to break our date. So you would think I was out of the woods, right? But no aspect of life is ever that easy for me! We’re on our way to the Cheesecake Factory and now I have to pass gas like no other. I’m clenching my butt as hard as I can and praying that I can make it to a bathroom. Then it happened we were driving up Pine Street and the streets are really crappy in SF. We hit a speed bump and I accidentally let one rip. To my dismay it was one of those silent but deadly farts. I would write about the rest of the date but all you need to know is that I am still single!

Hippie
So I don’t have to wear shoes at work so I don’t. I lucked out and a professional job which allows me to wear flip-flops, fucking sweet! The only problem is now I don’t like to wear shoes at all. I’m becoming one of those hippy people who walk around barefoot and never wear shoes!

posted by Lady_Sings_tha_blues @ 3:10 PM