Sunday, June 24, 2007

***French Freedoms***

I'm developing an affinity for French foreign films.

There's an honesty in their dialogue that's very intriguing.

Perhaps that's why I find it really hard to watch any non-reality TV shows like a sitcom or drama.

It feels scripted.
Inauthentic. Shallow.

No one talks like that in reality. In every day conversations people say "Ummm", or they agonize over remembering someone's name, or they at least trip over a word or two. In TV land, no one stutters. Everyone is quick-witted and has perfectly paced exchanges. The conversations are never awkward. And they all wrap with a pretty bow somehow in the end.

And it's not like there's anything wrong with that. I love my happy endings:o) But there's just something about another perspective that can just be refreshing, you know?

I just finished watching Look At Me and I loved it. Actually, I have yet to see a French film that I haven't liked. Amelie is a personal favorite-- the cinematography is unparalleled. (Really.) But I'm noticing a consistent theme of honest dialouge. The French casually say things that most of us wouldn't dare and it's great because it's not for shock value at all. It's simply the culture.

Thus far, I can vouch for the movies and the fashion...

two votes for France:o)

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

***Indian Givers***

So my question is about the colloquial term "Indian Giver".

Was that in reference to Native Americans or people from India?

Cuz if it's about Native Americans, what the hell did they give and take back? And if it's about people from India, then you're really going to have to enlighten me.

I got a call from the New York office today that was good news because my office was on the receiving end of something valuable in our world. Then the bastard called me back 40 minutes later to tell me that the plans changed. I was pissed and I expressed it. Something to the effect of "You can't do that! I mean, you CAN but come on! We need it more than you do!" He didn't give a shit and I was clear that nothing could be done. So I kept talking.

"You can't reni..."

The spades player within me (i.e. Shaqweeta) had it on the tongue but I was pretty certain he wasn't Black and I just didn't feel comfortable using the term "renig" (or however it's spelled) with him. Then I started to call him an Indian Giver but I didn't know if that was racially charged either, so I just ended with "Awww...c'mon man!"

What say you?


Man, I tell ya...
It's GREAT to have knowledgeable folks on your Hometeam:o)

Look at what I learned!

"Believe it or not Renege is a legitimate word.

As for Indian Giver:
American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms - Cite This Source

Indian giver
One who takes or demands back one's gift to another, as in Jimmy wanted to take back Dan's birthday present, but Mom said that would make him an Indian giver. This term, now considered offensive, originally alluded to the Native American practice of expecting a gift in return for one that is given. [Colloquial; early 1800s]"
Who knew???
I've been using the term incorrectly my ENTIRE life, lol!

(Thanks J.T.!)

Monday, June 18, 2007

***Oily Naturalness***

I put this oil from Carol's Daughter in my hair this morning and I guess I O.D.'d on it cuz by 11am I had a pool of it chilling on the back of my neck. It was like a reservoir at the nape. If I was the Pope, I could've blessed everybody with a car in the parking lot via two hands and no reloading. Not only did I host an oil well, but I've been smelling it all damn day. I've gotta be careful when using some of their products cuz all of those herbs and naturalness doesn't always smell too great. This one woman who comes in every now and then is like "Queen of the Natural Things". She's got the locks, the ethnic garb and jewelry, and she's a raw foods advocate. She's just a really great person to have around cuz her vibe is very refreshing and she's cool as hell.


she wears oils that I SWEAR come from tree trunks. Let's say she's come and gone in a room with a few doors. Do you know that the oil she wears is so potent that I can tell EXACTLY where went inside that room??? No joke! That shit is like footprints!

I don't know if they sell it but way back when I bought some Carol's Daughter Cucumber Melon lotion. At this time, there was no Jada Pinkett, Jay Z, Mary J Blige involved. No Tommy Mattola. No Sephora distribution. Just a few magazine mentions, a Halle Berry shout out, and shop in Brooklyn. Glass jars, generic labels, and products that would separate after a few hours cuz they had no preservatives.

So anyway...

It was during this phase of the Carol's Daughter brand that I purchased this lotion. I used it pretty regularly waiting for all of it's promises to deliver. Well, I never got to experience them. Not because of the actual lotion but because of my brother. He and I had this exchange in car one day:

Him: "What's that smell?"
Me (all excited): "My cucumber melon lotion! I bought it from Carol's Daughter! You like?"
Him (dryly): "You smell like wet grass."

I couldn't do anything but laugh cuz he was actually on point with his description.

You know, I'm tempted to exile this oil right next to that lotion
(in the back of the cabinet)...

but the 'fro does need juice every now and then.

[Photography credit: Oily palm shot by SuperPimp]

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

***Lost in Translation***

We all know that I'm due a dumb statement every other month or so.
(shut up)

Saturday was the day.

I'm talking to this guy from London and he asks me to point out someone he was looking for in a crowd. Once I spot the man I tell him,

"Right over there. He's there in the back."


"Second row from the back, far left. One...two...third person from the end."

"Can't see him. What's he got on?"

"Ummm...plaid? Yeah, he's got a plaid shirt on and he's sitting next to a..."

"What's that you say? Plaid?"


"What's plaid?"

Now lost on how to describe a description word, I turn to my buddy on the right and ask him (dead serious),

"How do you say plaid in British?"

Sunday, June 10, 2007

***Props Due***

You know what? I just need to get an el-cheapo laptop for blogging and stop playing games. I've been E-Ranting & Insighting all week in my head and it drives me CRAZY to keep chewing on the same thoughts without any outlet! I'm going to get it together y'all...I promise!

In other news, I just had to give a shout to the man that contributed to the bliss experienced on any sick or no-school day: Bob "Big Pimpin' " Barker. This man kept the same job for 35 years! And not only that but I love "The Price is Right" (that came on at 11 am eastern time right after a 2 episodes of "Reading Rainbow" and right before the soap operas I couldn't watch) because it's just a happy place to be. The colors, the excitement, and the hype man in the box that you almost never saw that made everything so extra.

Nothing set off a day of no school like a good game of Plinko.

You rock, Big Pimpin'.
83 is just a number.

A high one...

but a number nonetheless;o)

***Caucasion Comparisons***

You know those awful tantrums some little White children display in public?

Those "MOMMY! I want it NOW!" hissy fits that makes them change colors and block out real-time happenings?

Well, me and certain brown people I know weren't allowed such public privileges. We had the mothers that would go to jail for "child abuse" if it was a choice between being publicly embarrassed and letting us be "self expressed". It was just a line we didn't cross.

Thus, as in last week, I've noticed in my not-so-young adult life that I exhibit similar tantrums of those same White children (that I later grew to envy). Only my present tantrums aren't explosive, they're implosive. Introvertedly expressed in the form of a "shut down".


And I thought I was different...

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?