Why I Hate the Bar. Why I Still Go.

When I was still the age of pacifiers and hall passes, I spent enormous amounts of time wondering why adults had faces that looked like prunes. During their transit to work, on the bus, I would watch their eyes play games of hide and seek, constantly running away from one another. I did not understand why these old people would never seize the opportunity to break out in spontaneous dance. After all, most looked like they were on their way to slave work, and what better way to begin your day with a quick slow wind on the bus with a stranger whom you may never see again?

Except for the next morning.

I am no longer a hall pass. I am now a couple of parking tickets and bottles of vodka years old. On occasion, I visit a local bar to pour myself out, along with others who are trying to avoid becoming prunes faster than necessary.

On a good night, my feet are like banana peels and I glide across the dance floor sweeping away wall flowers. I eventually forget how ripe I’ve become and feel less resistant to time.

On a not so good night, there is usually an extremely drunk person huddling over my arm, talking to me in car crash.

On a good night, the waiter does not kick me out for sneaking to make a meal out of the martini olives. I find a smile at the bottom of a shot glass.

On a not so groovy eve, I fight with mens’ gym-membershipped chests for the bartenders’ attention.

On a good night, there are no pee drippings on the toilet seat. I still squat. Moms didn’t raise a C average.

On a not so cordial night, there are women sinking into toilets, bursting through doors without knocking, and talking really loud about things that are less interesting than conversations I have with toddlers who drool complete sentences.

On a good night, the majority of my friends are people I’ve met less than five minutes ago. They are swaying and I see all of their teeth.

On a not so good night, my friends are prunes on buses who would rather not seize the opportunity to dance.

Fortunately, last night was a good one. We swept the floor and left it more unkempt than we found it. We smiled often, dripped obscenities and made plenty of eye contact with perfect strangers, most of which we may never see again.

Until tomorrow.

Artist Spotlight: 1-O.A.K.

For reasons only my therapist can tell me, I tend to take a severely long time to vocally respond to things. It took me one year to fully articulate how I felt about Michael Jackson’s death. In the meantime, I lazily responded, saying “this is so sad” so many times until I eventually became more impressed with the idea of becoming mute.  I still have yet to understand how I feel about his passing, other than “sad”. Fortunately, there are artists such as 1-O.A.K. who do a better job than I do of transmitting feeling into sound.

Though I am not quite sure how he feels about Jackson’s passing, I can safely assume that with his spring début “Special Request”, 1-O.A.K. is doing his best to keep Jackson’s legacy of good music alive.

“Special Request” feels good. Something like a loofah and Avon bath oil.

Why? Because loofahs never fail to surprise me with their uncanny tendency to sneak up in a crevice I didn’t even know about. I’ve seen 1-O.A.K. casually strolling around the town buying pastries and orange juice, working with the young folk and often on stage sporting a very fashionable cardigan. I always knew I liked his sound. However, songs like “Stay With Me” and his closer “ Homerun” exfoliated my critique, forcing me to be present and enjoy his artisan shower. No R. Kelly.

Aside from kissing mirrors, I had a childhood interest in perusing catalogues; imagining the feeling of wealth and all the things it could afford me. Granny would never buy me what I wanted from these catalogues. Instead of flavored chap stick, she’d consistently gift me with a 16 oz bottle of Skin So Soft bath oil straight out of the back of the Avon catalogue. Granny knew what I needed better than I understood what I wanted.

Songs like “Me & You”, “Sweet Memories”, “Yaya”, “So Sincere” and  “Long Time” (practically the entire EP) make 1-O.A.K. a damned good bathtub. I am looking forward to hearing at least one of these songs next time I choose to go out to a club in Oakland/San Francisco and listen to really loud music in uncomfortable, but cute looking shoes.

Apologies Bay Area for taking too long to listen to 1-O.A.K.’s “Special Request”. Though I have not had my favorite songs on repeat for as long as I think I should before soliciting my opinion, one thing is for sure: 1-O.A.K.’s freshman project is deserving of five loofahs from the Source (should they supplement mics for unique body scrubbing mechanisms). If you go here, you can download his entire EP, which includes an electronic copy of his lyrics for convenient shower singing. Here’s to body wash, legacy and good music. Thank you McFarland.

Find him on twitter: #1oakALLDAY

The Little Adventures of Penis and Vagina- Episode 1-Anus: A Somewhat Intellectual and Wordy Response

There are many things school administrators advocate for on a more consistent basis than others: I would appreciate it if studies in sexuality and healthy relationships were one of them. As a result of increasing consumption of hyper-sexualized music coupled with limited in-class dialogue around sex, I foresee administrators continuing to be burdened with the problem of having to address sexually “deviant” behavior. Before I proceed, I would like to first question the validity and cultural relevancy of the rubric used to classify “sexually deviant” behavior—if such a rubric exists at all.

When it comes to the current rise in STD/STI outbreaks among youth in Oakland, CA ( “East Oakland has the highest incidence of HIVIAIDS cases among African American and Latino women and youth in Alameda County.” ), I charge local administration and the State for having failed to hold spaces where honest and candid conversations about sex are possible and flourishing. Silence does little to equip a young person with the tools necessary to formulate healthy sexual practices of their own. Couple silence with a frontal lobe that has yet to fully develop, and we get a massive attack of burning briefs and panties. When the school doors are shut on conversations related to sex, students are left to create their own spaces to speak out. Most of which consists of their peers whose point of reference is their own trial and error.

In tenth grade, I spent the entire year of Biology talking about sex and abstaining from texts. My friends and I were each other’s counsel. Most of us have had sex for the first time and were extremely excited to talk about what felt good, what didn’t; what felt normal, what felt alien; what made us blossom and what made us cry. It held a lot of weight, and looking back I wish we would’ve have someone to spot us.

I take interest in this, because frankly youth and young adults—when engaged in unsafe sex practices—are bound to inflict pain upon themselves. The worst is the psychological strain during the time to it takes to schedule an appointment and learn of your results.

*puts on politician beanie*

I advocate for human sexuality studies to become an A-G requirement in all of California public high schools. This will serve as a factor in producing young and growing adults who better understand their bodies and themselves as a whole, who will in turn develop healthy relationships with one another—both intimate and platonic. I also recommend the State redevelop its approach to sex ed. One of the primary steps is to begin fostering discussion. The video above is my attempt at keeping the discussion candid, with hopes that our youth will learn more about their bodies and ask questions of them.

*political beanie thrown off and stomped on*

The Booty and the Pee

It’s 2:34 in the crevice of twilight and he is on the phone inviting himself into my bed. I say no. He then asks me to travel to his place so that he may feel on my booty. I’ve just come home from a night full of dance-offs and rum; walking into things with one eye half-open and desperately need to pee. My bladder is trying it’s hardest not to leak on my rugs and in the process, have gotten me looking like a senile duck trying to find its way to a safe place. I think about letting him finish his sentence whilst I squirt my last sip of evening into the urinal, but on second thought decide to place him on hold and click the mute button to save him from my streams of unconsciousness.

I vaguely remember a time when a friend of mine spoke about how rude it is to pee (or poop) while on the phone. Personally, I think it is a perfect time to indulge in a bonding experience. I pee in front of my mom, and on occasion attempt to hold elongated conversations with her while in mid-poop. I think it is a testament of security. It is also a test of interest. When I am on the phone with a potential love mate who is calling me close to 3’o clock in the morning, what better way to tell him who I really I am by grunting loudly on the receiver as I push large masses of old food from my anus. #justsaying

When we first meet someone who we find attractive, we oftentimes become stuck in our image of who and what we want them to be. To uphold this image, we refrain from placing ourselves in certain situations where unwarranted experiences may occur. I.e. bathrooms, family settings, etc. I figure, if you really want to maximize your chances of feeling on my booty (or any other woman’s glutes), then you should opt out of being content with scratching my surface and get to know me for what’s on the inside. Literally.

One who accepts being a flawed human is the perfect person I’d like to hang out with. That’s probably why I irritate me so often. To keep me interested in myself. I do my best to accept the crooks in my straight; consistently sanding my rough even when I am aware that it gives me the edge necessary to thrive.

I tell him and any man, if the goal is to feel on any woman’s booty, you’d want her to be comfortable with you while you’re peeing on the phone. That way she sees you for who you are: a human being with a functioning urinal tract. If her bubble is burst by your natural instincts, then she was never into you, only what she imagined you to be. Unfortunately, this is common and I am no exception. Though I may be comfortable with a bit of p&p (poop and pee) on the phone, I still struggle with keeping a straight face while inhaling the pungent smell of someone else’s farts.

Black Girls With Short Hair

If you do not know who Amber Rose is, let me give you the most biased and unofficial introduction: her tongue got paparazzied while being engulfed by Kanye West’s mouth and the shape of her head is reminiscent of a pear. She has the body of a house many men and women would not mind sleeping in for one night. I liked her. For a few hours. Until I YouTubed an interview of her on the Wendy Williams’ show, in which she proclaimed to be the only girl who is more appealing with no hair.

Yes, Amber can rock a buzz cut better than most U.S. soldiers. But she is not the only one.

Perhaps if these women stick their tongue in Kanye’s ear, they too will become famous and make Wendy Williams flip her wig into a natural.

What to do When Employers Reject Your Resume…

The rules are simple:

1) Get rid of the fluff and write your truth, even if it risks offending someone.

2) Keep a few polysyllabic words, so they know you possess a smart of some hue.

3) Interrupt the intellectualized rhythm of the standard resume with your own strut.

4) Stand tall and tread hard.

For those of you who are a bit reluctant to begin, I have taken the liberty of posting my résumé online as an example for you to follow. Enjoy!

Talia Taylor |address: google me | phone: 510.2**.1439 (don’t call me after 9 p.m.)

Objective

To get a job so that I can continue to feed, clothe and house myself.

Qualifications

•  8 years experience interacting with people who infrequently smile
•  Computer literate; can troubleshoot Macs. Only because they are better than PCs
•  Went to college for longer than expected
•  Entrepreneurial experience (I sold candy and other paraphernalia in high school)

Work Experience

Sales Professional|2010 seasonal

• distract dissatisfied customers from their initial complaints and occasionally confuse elderly Germans by pretending to be a customer
• open and close registers
• meticulously dust glassware
• influence customers to become a valued card holder so that over time, they will owe an excessive amount of money to the corporation

Leadership Instructor|2009-2010

• show up to work every day
• talk for one and one half hours as animated as possible to keep up with adolescent attention spans
• make friends with co-workers and promise to go out for drinks, but never do
• organize and chaperone field trips with the intent to increase the social and cultural capital of youth
• execute classroom management practices that are non-threatening and diplomatic, on most occasions

 Receptionist/Hair Stylist|2007-200

• refrain from yelling at over-demanding customers/clients
• listen intently to conversations that have no relevance to personal growth
• boost immune system by becoming accustomed to inhaling toxic nail polish removers

Poet-Mentor|2002-2010

• display an overwhelming sense of emotion when students recite personal poems in front of a crowd of over 1,000
• drive long distances to cities with fictive names
• wear really cool clothing and accessories
• show resourcefulness in finding money for food and transportation when my paycheck was late arriving. every month

University of East Anglia| Exchange Student| 2005-2006

• attend courses in which european americans condemned Langston Hughes’ for writing about lynchings instead of tulips
• refrain from socking people
• host a radio show with as little talking as possible
• navigate my way through way Rome, Milan, Florence, Venice, and Barcelona with just one guidebook and little interest in reading it
• land a feature column in the Valentine’s Day edition of the school paper
• join the photography club and learn to develop photos of my ex

Education

B.A. I talk a lot to some people, San Francisco State University

B.A. I like all things Black people related, San Francisco State University

References

A few

 

Poly-Amore…Lovin’ Outside of the Box

On Valentine’s Day, I was not gifted with a heart-shaped anything. I did not indulge in the national ritual of human spit swapping and teddy bear cuddling. Instead, I waited four days to fondle the minds of many.

I hosted a panel discussion on polyamory as it relates to people of color (sidebar: one day I truly hope we can condense “people of color” to something that sounds more like “crayon”)

Let’s see: I hosted a panel discussion on polyamory as it relates to crayons. Eh…

On this night, Joyce Gordon’s self-entitled gallery was stuffed with an array of sexualities and gender preferences, as well as very articulate hairstyles.

The panel featured Mahasin Munir, Dazie Grego, Selam Mekonen, Sonya Brewer and Richard Wright, the founder of POLY/POC and the organizer of the panel. I did my best to ask questions that would better help the audience understand the mechanics behind polyamorous relationships.

We explored common misconceptions: one being that people who practice polyamory (commonly referred to as “open relationships”) do so as a means to excuse sexual deviance.

Whatever that means. Mahasin quickly retorted by stating how she’s known “people who have been in polyamorous relationships and haven’t slept with anyone but their partner. So, that [myth] can go down the toilet.”

We also delved into ways in which being in more than one intimate relationship simultaneously can stretch a human beyond their limits—allowing them to increase their capacity to tolerate and converse with their own fears of abandonment and jealousy.

Is polyamory an excuse to get your cake and eat it too? Does it lead to a fuller stomach or stomach-ache?

To hear more of what the panelists had to say, check out the first half of the discussion here. When you’re done, breathe. Then call up a boo-thang and make out in an unusual way. If you have not a boo-thang, fondle yourself. After that, check out the second half of the panel. Conclude with a review ‘pon de blog. Click “submit” and massage my mind.