links for the week of 18 january 2009

i’m etsy obsessed, so here’s some of the things i’ve found that make me REALLY happy.

from flytie, the babygirl gathered dress, sweet azul dress, and pop life sweater.

from sew sew suck ur toe, the frida kahlo softie! also, the dia de los muertos softie is awesome.

from my close personal friend mariam at the hand of fatima: a badass lariat necklace, the primp and proper necklace, & roses for claudia earrings.

go check out l’elephant rose! there’s going to be a sale on until the 20th, and all new stuff in the store on the 21st.

because i think renee at womanist musings is a freaking genius, i’m sharing her post about her moon time.

finally, a new post at the bliss project, called first things first. :)

in my dreams again.

him. the crush.

this time, there was lots of touch. some good jokes. skin-to-skin contact. we were sitting in my bed. a few times he climbed over me to get something off the dresser. other times he walked into the kitchen to get me something to drink or eat. i wasn’t sick, but simply the center of attention.
and the last time my alarm went off, i was waiting for him to come back. i was expecting a kiss. anticipating our fingers to be entangled and our foreheads to touch, for there to be some whispered compliments and some sharing of extremely private jokes.
but i had to wake up.
to nothing but a wisp of a memory.

operation: benetton ad.

you see, lovely blog readers, your protagonist has a bit of an issue.

i haven’t had sex in a while, and really good sex (also known as having my back blown out) is such a distant memory that i’ve got a better chance of recalling my life in utero than recounting any details of sexual exploits. so, in what i’ll call my months of solitude, i’ve had the opportunity to think really hard about what i want when i get back out there. i’ve pined away over my usual celebrity eye candy (mos def, chiwetel ejiofor, christian bale, don cheadle, q-tip, et al) and had a few moments to reminisce on past crushes/ eye candy (one time for marvin from trader joe’s and that fine-as-all-fucking-getout dude who used to ride the same train i did a few yrs back). but what i haven’t actively had was some kind of glimmer of hope. anyone who’s really legitimately a potential boo for me. crushes and eye candy won’t do. going back to former paramours won’t work — if they were what i wanted, they would not be formers! instead, i need something new, something fresh . . .

enter operation: benetton ad.
it all started w/ the idea i’ve been kicking around for quite some time: the concept that i should possess a stable of he-bitches of all colors, shapes, and sizes. i mean, why not? i can’t seem to get precisely what i want in one place, so why not split it up? go on foreign film dates w/ my art nerd, hit happy hour with the lush, cuddle up next to the around-the corner boo, have the sponsor get me that dress i want, and quite possibly have one strong backed strapping individual to have me grinning consistently whilst walking crookedly.

well, lo and behold, the warm winds of late spring and summer have blown a lot of newness my way. first, there was that lovely piece of curly haired extra gorgeous southerner, in town for a conference. swarthy, as white folk tend to say. mmm, mmm, mmm. he has a girlfriend and lives far away from philly, so i’ll leave him where he is. until/ unless there’s a reason not to.
second, there was the lite brite (translation: he looks like christopher williams might could be his daddy) from the starbucks near my job. i think he might be slow. but he’s nice to look at. eye candy is important. there’s a young asian man whose family owns the nail salon i go to. he is SO PRETTY. and a youngin. he’s legal, though. seems to be unreasonably interested in the things i use to adorn myself (earrings, bangles, sneakers, nail polish colors). i like him, though, and wouldn’t mind sitting on my sofa w/ him while he paints my toenails. there’s a chicano in the mix, too. he seems to be focused on marrying me and figuring out how on earth my spanish is as good as it is. he makes me laugh. sometimes. the language barrier is interesting.

and then.
lawdy JEEZUS.

today, i met a fine ass barber who gave me his card and said he’d cut my hair tomorrow . . . LORDY BE, I CAN’T TAKE IT.
he’s covered in tattoos. amateurish ones that scream “i’ve been into some bad shit in my life,” and he has the unmitigated gall to smell good. lord help me!
he is, in the words of my beloved uncle, “niggafied.” that’s what he calls any non-black person w/ the most black american swagger ever.
i mean, i prefer to just say he’s very much an around the way asian dude
but the swagger
he got that big dick swagger i tend to only see in black men and others who’ve been victimized by the prison industrial complex.

WOOT

*fannin myself*

but yeah.
i’m building myself a stable so i can get what i want until i’ve had my fill. currently, i’m not even close to being done!

U-N-I-T-Y, that’s a unity . . .

addendum: in my infinite wisdom and continual quest for creative ways to express myself, i have decided to regard to the stable of he-bitches as he-bees. that is, i am a he-bee keeper, and i’m going to be maintaining an apiary of dick. buckwild apiary’s mission statement soon come.

my current feelings/ thoughts on thanksgiving:

i don’t feel like it.

this year, i want a turkey sammich in one hand & some sort of intoxicant in the other, while watching some kind of ridiculous film or television program on dvd (see: get a life, in living color, pootie tang, or napoleon dynamite) with some friends.

i will have that kind of thanksgiving. dammit.

even if my entire family converges on my itty bitty apartment & decides to eat candy off exu’s shrine space . . .
even if my perpetually chilly apartment lets the hawk in . . .
even if my janky ass oven puts an unnecessary coating of crispness on everything i bake inside of it . . .

i will enjoy this day off.

my personal style is evolving.

big earrings & shawls are a given.
but now i’m realizing what kind of denim i like, what fits best, etc.

& we aren’t gonna talk about my footwear situation. i don’t like buying expensive ass shoes, but my feet/ posture require them. ergonomically sound shoes for work aren’t cheap. the heels i do like? not cheap. sneakers that don’t make my feet cry out in cramping? not cheap at all.

so i guess i’d better hustle this money up, right? lol. i was doing some figuring. there’s not one single pair of shoes or sneakers i’ve been checking out that cost less than seventy dollars. i remember back in the days of parade of shoes (remember them?), i was racking up on stuff i could wear to work. now, it’s like earth or dansko… or nothing. i hate that, kinda. naturalizer isn’t cheap. new balance? not cheap. & let’s not discuss my love of nikes, which has resurfaced just as i’m too busy paying bills to cop a new pair every paycheck. this is annoying, at best.

i went to lane bryant the other day, tryna find some jeans. first of all, these motherfuckers are charging $50++ for polyester tunics. since when is that okay? second, what’s the deal w/ everything having a stupid permanent cuff or crease? can i just get some regular straight leg average-length dark fucking denim? something that isn’t uber super show-the-crack-of-my-ass low rise? & maybe, just maybe, are there wide-legged dress pants that don’t have a full-on natural waist? i’ve got a short torso. that shit doesn’t look right on me. gah.

if i had a sewing machine & enough time, i swear . . .

sometimes it seems that my style is being guided by the companies that make the clothes. i love old navy’s more grownup looking clothing; they stopped selling it in stores so i’m forced to do my shopping inside. whomever decided to remove the plus sizes from the stores is pretty much an idiot. there are plenty women who’ve not been able to try on the plus sized clothes simply because there was a 2 year (or more) test period where only certain stores carried these items. if you aren’t generally certain how the clothes fit you, how on earth are you gonna feel comfortable/ confident buying the shit online? i’m hoping to turn to more indie designers, or smaller apparel companies in the future. right now, though, i feel bound by my amount of disposable income in addition to the dress code at my job. it isn’t terribly strict, but some things aren’t okay.

but, as my personal style evolves, i’m better able to make smart choices. i know where to find the $10 jeans at ross and the cleverly hidden perry ellis trench coats at burlington. ;)

bargain fashionistas, stand up! i know it’s not right — someone probably lost their finger trying to make the anorak i just bought — but until i find better quality plus clothes in the thrift stores i frequent, & until i start making my own clothes, this is how it’s gonna be.

on: comfort and safety

someone once told me i’m too attached to material things. this someone is male, black, american-born and raised, & claimed that it was absurd of me to care so much about things that were/ are mine. this person grew up w/ several siblings in a single-parent household & though i could identify w/ certain aspects of his stance, i found myself largely feeling like he never got what i was talking about when i expressed a need for what i call my creature comforts. for me to feel comfortable in an environment that i haven’t designed to my liking, i tend to do what i can to create familiarity around myself. isn’t this what most humans do? at a new job, don’t you look around to see how or if your contemporaries have their workspaces decorated? when you come into a new apartment or house, don’t you make it into what you want it to be & aim toward your ideals? creating comfort — especially in my home — makes it easier to cope w/ the many things that i feel daily (or otherwise regularly) assault me outside these walls. but maybe that doesn’t matter to anyone else. not that it necessarily has to.

in this entry, dark daughta explores what codes of conduct for oneself do in the way of creating/ maintaining sanity & safety. she says: “I’m…slowly…raising…my hands…over…my head… I don’t have a gun…a chainsaw…a hacksaw…or a knife…I’ve got words, thoughts, questions, a keyboard and a Code.”

** i know this isn’t finished. it may never be.

gratitude #6:

music

laughter

the circle of new friends into which i’ve been absorbed

ppl who appreciate simple shit

netflix

folks who’re not wise enough to password-secure their wireless networks

coconut milk

the nail salon up the block from me

phillyspeak

knowing when i shouldn’t do something, & sticking to that

water

yeye mi

gentle winds of change

baba mi

the fire it takes to speak up

favela rising

honest yet tactful critics

the eyes to see what’s really going on

finding new blogs

yummy smelling bath stuff

knowing that what i really want is well on its way

collard greens

strawberries!!!

babies

my crafty leanings

flirting

my sunday boo (we need to really plan these dinners)

i sit at the seat of bliss… no matter what. i am carving out for myself the place i want to be most.

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