the world is mine
my number one search referral from google is "white cotton panties"...I assume via this entry where I went on and on about how sexy white draws were...very innocent and therefore ironic for me. whilst perusing the perverted links google had to offer in lieu of my own I came across a drink recipe for a cocktail of the same name...and it sounds rather tasty. I'll have to order it the next time I'm out and about getting my carrie bradshaw on...whenever that may be...although blue says I'm actually miranda because I have a baby. fuckin blah...only thing dope about miranda was she rocked it with blair underwood. and her hair color.
sex and the city references are soooo 2004, why did I even go there. and as I have never had HBO I've only really seen it maybe four times (the one where samantha wants a sex massage, the one where carrie goes to see her friend with the new baby and someone steals her manolos, the one about breaking up via a post-it note, and the one where carrie sneaks into church to meet mr. big's ma dukes)...and everytime I catch the edited versions on TBS it's always one of the four I've seen...isn't that bizzare? so let me stop frontin with the references like I was really up on it.
I had a good talk with jimi izrael a couple weeks ago wherein he suggested I pursue writing professionally...as in journalism. although my proficiency at writing came early in life, prompting both of my parents to try to steer me into journalism, it just wasn't anything I'd ever considered although I've been just as big a "fan" of dream hampton, kevin powell, bonz malone, anka radakovich, and other distinctive writers as I am of your standard celebrity ilk. when we'd initially had the conversation I was hype about it; he seemed genuinely encouraging without kissing my ass, I dig writing, I enjoy it, it'd be nice to get paid for it, not to mention actually writing on one linear subject as opposed to just writing about my life...and I'd be forced to capitalize and stop using so many ellipses...but as often happens after I get excited about something, I've already lost my motivation to put it into motion. I don't get shit done...I procrastinate so much it saddens me...the main problem is that I'm always so tired. I can't remember a time in recent memory, and this applies to before I was pregnant too, that I wasn't even a little tired. I always figure I'll take care of the oodles of stuff I need to do when I'm well rested, but that time never comes and I'm always behind, including with my clients, which is not a good look. I could make a lot more money freelancing if I could finish projects as rapidly as I did in the past. ya know, when I was young and virile.
regardless, I'd like to use another one of the many many domain names I have to start displaying articles...something beyond personal weblog entries. I already have in my head how I'd like it to function...whether or not I can use it to pursue professional writing gigs is another thing entirely...I don't know anything about that but at least it can be a bit of a portfolio. moreso then this site could ever be. I don't even use proper grammar on this bitch. and who would hire me to write about myself anyway? that'd be the life. I momentarily considered focusing on hip-hop, but I doubt I want to limit it in that way...plus, there are way too many hip hop webloggers these days...some are great, but damn what an overwhelming influx. I remember when I had the "chicks dig hip hop" weblog a few years ago I couldn't find any hip-hop-centric weblogs to link to. but everyone has a weblog now...journalists, politicians...celebrities...and they're all super proud of it like maintaining a weblog is something to get a big swollen penis about...its not hard an shit. nearly everyone who started a weblog after 2002 is just a trendwhore anyway, especially some of the journalists. I miss personal sites that were more then just a weblog. shoulda known it was officially mainstream when they added "blog" to the dictionary. I look at the weblog scene now like kurtis blow looks at chingy. blogspot bandwagon jumpin niggas. weblogs have officially jumped the shark. shit...I don't even like the word blog. hmph. what happened to the days when everybody wanted to be a rapper?
and don't get mad you brand new muthafuckas...I'm just bitching because the i-net even four, five years ago was still a bit subversive and it amazed heads that I had my own website. shit just wasn't regular. it was more fun when I felt like we were all doing something ballsy by sharing so much and being so raw in a public forum.
anyway, you know what else I wanna get into? designing mixtape covers. seems like the same few heads do them and it's the same sort of aesthetic over and over again. and some of them are just plain ugly yet I know whoever designed them gets paid. these mixtape heads need to hollerate because I got some good ideas and I think that's a pretty good way of getting my name out there™. thats something you'll hear on-the-grind-all-the-time-huny-c.-young say a lot in the future, provided I can get some sleep. as I was talkin about last entry, it's all about the hustle...I can't really get mad I'm not doing bigger projects as long as I'm lax about marketing myself the way I used to. I was in hibernation, growing my daughter inside at 98.6 degrees, but she's here now and she deserves to have a mom to look up to who goes after all she desires. theres just so much I wanna accomplish...I realize I must sound so wishy washy with these constant aspirations, some of them wildly random, but I really see all of it coming together in some way in the future...an all-encompassing brand. "I'm talented, yes I'm gifted".
while christopher and I were getting dressed and primped and pretty to go see star wars a couple weeks ago, I had this moment where I almost "seperated from" myself for lack of a better phrase. blue was over, all set to babysit the tike, and I fleetingly wondered, as I simultaneously curled my bangs, did my eyebrows, and checked my black tank top for breast milk stainage, what we must've looked like to her. christopher was ironing something or other, we were both talking a mile a minute to each other and cooing to our baby daughter...and I SAW all of it almost outside of my body and it made me so happy, yo. I never in life could've imagined this would ever be me...I knew I'd have seeds one day but one day always felt like it was nowhere close to "this" day. I am a mom, a future wife, a tax payer...grown as hell. and I'm fuckin okay with that; infact, I am more then okay, I am overjoyed. I just wanted to share that because so much of what I write seems like dissatisfaction...for some tragically ironic reason, it's more difficult for me to write when I'm just happy. maybe I feel it sounds cheesetastic. either way, I was happy to be something I thought I'd never be happy about - domesticated. I cringe to read some of my archives cause I was on the dumbest shit in the world...wasting my time dating around cause I felt I should after being in such a long relationship with traj when I knew I loved christopher. I was so afraid to just admit I was in love with him...I filled my entires with talk of other dudes to distract me from it...and it actually makes me a bit angry cause I wasn't being honest with myself. I was too aware of who was reading my site, who's feelings would get hurt most of all. I sacrificed a lot just to save people's feelings. I won't ever do that again cause now I have very little recorded about those few first months of realizing I was in love with topher...and that sort of thing only happens once. what a tangled web we weave.
anyway, that was a deep little moment I just had. lemme shake it off. I promise this is the last time I mention anything star wars: this shit is ridonkulous. gave me goosebumps. absolute butter. this one is aiight too.