Pain, Pain, Go Away

I've had a uterus my entire life. We've had a very amicable relationship. At about 3 pm on Monday afternoon something upset her. She slowly grew enraged. But I was weathering her storm. At about 8 o'clock while I was trying to wind down she was just getting started. I text a friend about these newfangled pains I was experiencing. I wasn't doubled over but was definitely uncomfortable. They say it helps to talk about your problems; you gain insight on how to manage them, solve them or perhaps they'll even go away. I don't remember when I dozed off but at about 11pm I was woken by CM Punk screaming into the pipe bomb and my uterus screaming louder. What the what? I made myself a little more comfortable but was determined to sleep this off like I could sleep off other pains.


Shame on me for not having any pain meds at home but I'm rarely in pain. Moaning and whimpering, I stumbled around my bedroom at about 2:30ish in the morning. Pain blurred my vision. Pain made me sweat. Not doubled over in pain, uh, Abigail? Merely uncomfortable, Missy? I slumped over the bathroom sink for a while when a wave of nausea hit me. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's nausea and vomiting. That was the push I needed. I swallowed hard and had a heart-to-heart with the grimace in the mirror. I needed meds. But I couldn't walk straight due to the pain (my vagina was now singing backup). Never in my life had I experienced pain like this. Who are these women who deal with this every month?

Your Black Is Beautiful

I was contacted earlier this week about participating in an upcoming PSA and documentary, Black is Beautiful, a project created by Babatunde Odesanya of the Black and Latino Film Coalition.

"This documentary is the culmination of 100 Black and Latina women verbally celebrating the strength, power and beauty of being a person of color.  From their hair, to their features to their varied tones, these ladies will be expressing why "Black Is Beautiful" to them."

Greendale Community College

I had been slowly falling out of love with Community. I didn't know what was going on this season (and the latter part of Season 2). The episodes just weren't the same. It was as though they felt they had to place the characters in outrageous or "meta" situations to keep the show interesting.


In my opinion, what works for a television show about a study group in community college is to keep the cast and storylines in the community college. I thought we were going back to that formula at the beginning of Season 3 with the introduction of the new Bio professor, Professor Kane (Michael K. Williams from Boardwalk Empire) who merely wanted to know what happened to Lego people while he was in prison.


The first season (and part of the second season) worked because we saw characters go through their arcs in various episodes, dynamic relationships were developed, opponents were revealed...and the episodes were on campus; new characters were introduced to add to the group dynamic (Jack Black harmonizing cracks me up every time), the school dances were perfect for getting all the characters together and working out subplots or having more hilarity ensue, I still sing "Getting rid of Brita" and "Pierce, you're a B", paintball was classic, Halloween, the blanket fort, debate ("Man is evil!"), pottery class, the chicken finger "family", the game of strip pool, Dungeons and Dragons, the STD fair, the Human Being was born then all of a sudden Pierce became a crotchety evil genius, Abed made eye contact and Troy seemed to gain all this life insight; what the hell?

The Much Needed Book Job

It's been a long time since I've related to and enjoyed an episode of The Simpsons (I didn't even get all the references in "The Food Wife" and that's saying something). I've always loved the show for it's social commentary and satire. Being a fan of ensemble heist films (Ocean's Eleven and The Italian Job top the list), and a writer, I smiled throughout the entire episode, "The Book Job".


I don't read young adult lit and I don't like vampires but I know everyone and their nephew's half-sister's neighbor's uncle's personal trainer is into vampires. I had flashbacks to the Book Expo America and the world of book junkies and author groupies. And I felt Lisa's pain when she realized who was receiving book deals and writing best-sellers (a dog? Tyra Banks?).

Thanksgiving

At 4 minutes after midnight I was sipping egg nog. I usually wait until after dinner but it was officially Thanksgiving Day and I deserved a treat.

For me, Thanksgiving has always been about watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade while I assembled a lasagne in the kitchen. Then I had to find some oven real estate once I was done; my mother always got a head start on me and the turkey would have hours more to go. In recent years, I’ve gotten hooked on the Dog Show, so I watch that too. Once I wasn’t living at home anymore, Thanksgiving involved a bit more travel (Brooklyn to The Bronx, sometimes, all the way to New Jersey!) but the food and camaraderie was always there. The giving thanks part of the day also became more apparent the older I got.

Do Goodies from Greyston Bakery

I love chocolate. I saw a tweet on my timeline about a week ago asking Tweeters to tell Greyston Bakery why they deserve free brownies. Hmm… I responded, not sure if it was a legit tweet but excited nonetheless. Turns out it was very legit.

I received my gift on Wednesday evening. A Do Goodie box containing four brownies: Walnut Fudge Brownie, Espresso Bean Brownie, Brown Sugar Blondie and a Chocolate Fudge Brownie. Go ahead and wipe the saliva from your lips.

I’ll wait…

A Clear & Lucid & Natural & Simple Conscious

Clear & Lucid & Natural & Simple by Conscious. It can be a quick read for instant "aha moments" or one that can take a few days to get through because his gems of wisdom will cause moments of contemplation.


While reading Clear & Lucid I had flashbacks to many of the conversations I've had with Conscious. Why won't he use revolving doors? He explained it to me in such a way that it's up to me to figure it out. That quote is on page 66 and it's written 6 times--there must be meaning to that as well. Sometimes what he (or Montag or the Bronx Über Villain) says doesn't hit me right away. I can see it now, I'll by lying (half)  awake, having a restless night, amethyst helping me none and something I read in the book will become clear. Seeing his statements in print made them real again. And there are times when speaking to Conscious and while I was reading Clear & Lucid that it's as if Conscious is reading my heart. "Bout to 'life' #unfollow some ppl." Yes! I've taken this step numerous times. Recent eclipses and constant growth as a person have made it easier. Certain relationships/people eclipse their way our of your life and we're the better for it.

A Marathon Of Inspiration

ING NYC Marathon 

After drinks and a PG-13 rated sleepover, we woke to sunshine and cheers from along 4th Avenue. My sleep haze cleared instantly as I rushed to his living room window. The wheelchair racers whizzed by on their hand bikes.


I've always had a connection with the ING NYC Marathon--maybe because it takes place in November, maybe because it's a "NY thing", maybe it's the athleticism of the event but I watch it every year. One year, I watched from the Columbus Circle entrance of Central Park. I was really depressed that year and the marathon was quite the morale booster.

Elite Women (lead pack)

Shall We Dance?

"Do you dance?" he asked.

"What do you mean, like in general?" I asked. "Yeah, I dance."

"Do you dance to this kind of music?" The music playing was 30's, 40's & 50's swing, jazz and blues.

"No, I've never danced to this."

He extended his hand, "Shall we?"


After the Holiday Shops Opening event, that is how I ended my Thursday evening in Bryant Park under a crystal clear sky and waxing gibbous moon. He looked harmless enough, Ray did. That's his name. Ray. I didn't get a last name. Black gentleman of 60. He led me through the basics of the Lindy Hop and foxtrot. An audience formed, some snapping photos of us. When I caught on to the steps, he added kicks and spins. "Some times the man flips the woman over his head..."

Occupy Wall Street - My Two Cents

I'm reporting to you live from home. Not from Zuccotti Park or Washington Square Park or a holding cell. I haven't been down to the protest site. Me, Miss Rebel Rouser. I most certainly have reason to. I am part of the 99%. Don't have a job to call out from to join Occupy Wall Street (one of the reasons I'm in the 99%). Yet, the protest, the movement, doesn't feel organic. Would I be more inclined to participate if there was tear gas involved? If I had the opportunity to hold hands with Al Sharpton or Jesse Jackson? If they were burning effigies? For a protest, there seems to be a lot of rules and regulations and scheduling. Are they simply trying to bait the NYPD into committing brutality?


When they said Occupy Wall Street, that's what I thought they'd do. Block entrances to buildings, camp out in the lobby of 60 Pine Street, clog the Wall Street subway stations. Granted, many of the workers on Wall Street can work from home but maneuvers like that would make the "corporate bigwigs" think twice about coming to work. The protesters are in a park providing walking lanes for commuters. I've read their "list of demands"; there's that tiny sliver of haves that need to realize that the have-nots are pissed. We need to go Robin Hood on them. As result, I haven't ventured to Occupy Wall Street. I've viewed some photos online. Barely sat through 30 seconds of coverage on livestream.


I guess I expected more of this:

Instead of this:

Photo Credit: Ijeoma D. Iheanacho

Those are my current feelings. They are subject to change.

*   *   *

I Didn't Ask To See Your Penis

Note: The above was NOT forcibly removed
"Storm Drain", Man. Toy.

These men...no matter how old, they just love to whip it out

That's a text message I received from a girlfriend after I told her I'd received a dick pic seconds before. I replied to her: Yeah! It's like their badge or something!


Men and their penises.

They love to show them off.

Even when you didn't plead to see it.

Even if they've never met you.

Rhythm And F'n Blues

While hanging with a friend a few nights ago, a song came on his shuffle that perked my ears right up. It was raw. At first I thought it was a spoof but he informed me that it was an actual recording by Lucille Bogan -- "Till The Cows Come Home". He gave me a brief history lesson on the life of Lucille Bogan (aka Bessie Jackson who was a known prostitute and would at times fuck men with strap-ons).

I know the blues are very sensual and sexual. I got a recent dose of blues' lyrics in Too Much Boogie by Cole Riley. But they were a bit "milder". I'm used to double entendres and euphemisms but Ms. Bogan plunged in head first (see what I did there?)!

Frasier Meets 3rd Rock From The Sun

I would love to see Dick Solomon (John Lithgow, 3rd Rock from the Sun) and Frasier Crane (Kelsey Grammer, Frasier) meet one another. I think their character dynamic would be very entertaining and competitive. Just imagine all the polysyllabic chest-pounding!


Setting:
Seattle, Washington circa 1999


Premise:
Dick Solomon and his family, Sally, Harry and Tommy are new tenants in the Elliot Bay Towers. But how/why do they meet? Dick is a new member or Frasier's wine club, or Frasier is giving a psychiatry talk at the same university Dick where teaches.


Character Dynamics:

Both Frasier and Dick are pompous, multilingual and intelligent but Dick's naivete about Earth and total lack of respect for personal space would become glaringly obvious to Frasier. He interprets it as some sort of psychiatric problem that he must diagnose and treat. Dick mistakes Frasier's interest as friendship but when Frasier begins to label him and insist something is wrong with him, Dick is offended (Nothing is wrong with my brain! My brain is far superior to yours!) and the competitive nature of their relationship begins.

Waving The Red Flag

My online dating experiment continues...


I received this note in response to one I sent after reading someone's post/profile:

Hey Abigail,

Thanks for answering my little post. I forgot to mention something that may be very important to you: I'm short. 5'7 ... just thought I'd mention it. ;)

By the way, I try to stay fit also. I run every day. And try to avoid unhealthy stuff. It's too easy to let yourself go. And it's depressing to throw your health away. I think most American are obese because they're sad. It's just filling a void.

3-Day Chocolate Binge

My chocolate binge has lasted a lot longer than three days. I've lost track of the number of Snickers, Pret A Manger brownies, chocolate chip granola bars, chocolate coated graham crackers and Peanut M&Ms I've downed recently. Last week, three treats really stood out.

Table Manners

I had a meal with a man on Friday. As we walked through the LES we decided to go to Clinton Street Baking Company. So far so good. Chose the Chicken and Waffles off the menu. Ok, nothing to report about there. Then dinner was served.

He ate like a Neanderthal (no disrespect to any other Neanderthals who may be reading this). He attacked the chicken like it wasn't already dead. I took a photo of my plate and sent it to a friend who I'd made plans with the night before to go Clinton Street Baking for that very meal next week. By the time I looked up from my cell phone, he'd already devoured two pieces of the half chicken we were served, grease and food all over his face.

It's A Small WWE Universe

The WWE Universe is vast yet small. Especially to a die hard fan and in New York. On Sunday morning, September 11, on my way home from my doggy weekend, I boarded a bus. I noticed a man sitting in the back. He had a very familiar face. I stole glances and got caught looking several times. I was trying to figure out where I knew him from. My initial thought was his name was Vladimir. I remember him from the 1980's and 1990's--he was always at ringside at all the then-WWF PPV's and house shows at Madison Square Garden. I learned his name when he was featured in the then-WWF magazine.

A Dog's Weekend

First cats, now dogs...


My friend hired me to pet-sit for a few days. There was also a cat present but rarely seen.


Meet Oscar and Lucy!

Oscar

Lucy

Day 1: Not a full day. I arrived at my friend's apartment after work and was greeted with unbelievable enthusiasm and energy. I could tell I'd walked in on a play session they'd organized for themselves. It took about 45 minutes to actually leave the apartment for the walk--I couldn't figure out how to get the harness on, nevermind the instructions that were left. You know you've reached a new low when a dog gives you the side-eye. Oscar stood stoic, waiting to be strapped in. Lucy was high on coke I'm prone to believe. The walk itself went off without a hitch--2 square blocks, 2 poop-and-scoops.

"Empire State of Mind" 9/11 Tribute

Never forget

Sunday Jam Session

Music.

It took me to 1960's Brooklyn and 1980's Harlem.

Took me through Argentinian pride and Uruguay strife.

It celebrated the West Indies and declared independence for Brazil.

Music took me to lovers' beds and hearts. The trips and falls in and out of love.

Took me to the great State of Texas.

Music took me to New Orleans to march with the saints.

Took me to a blues joint.

Music tugged secrets from our souls with each slide of the trombone.

Took me into the soul of a blossoming songwriter.

It softened angst and broke outer shells.

Music tasted like Guinness and Malbec and Mate.

Music filled the room. 8 people in a room and music will make it feel a hundred deep.

It softened a love cynic's heart and brought tears to eyes.

It sounded like throaty laughter on the 3 and 16 count.

Music left it's mark with the power of words.

It wrote this prose.

Music is the bass Griot.

It evoked cravings for cuchifritos.

Music was the glue that held handshakes, hugs and hips together.

It instructed the 2-step and the way he twirled her this way and that.

On a sticky September Sunday, it wasn't too hot for music.