Sunday, December 30, 2007

RIP 2007

Double deuces go out to '07.

And this wrap up is ganked from and posted in honor of my fav ex-Harlem neighbor that I never met.

1) Was 2007 a good year for you?
Ya know what… I haven’t failed out of school yet, didn’t get shot, didn’t go broke, no alcohol poisoning that I know of. Great year.

2) What was your favorite moment of the year?
Toss up btwn seeing my oldest nephew graduate from my alma mater...
Blacking out at the US-Canadian border...
Boy watching and drinking at the Hard.Rock pool in Vegas...
Or the first phone convo with DatNucca.

3) What was your least favorite moment of the year?
A phone call with my brother, Boss Of Me, in the middle of Mar.shalls.

4) Where were you when 2007 began?
I honestly cant remember. Musta been somewhere good.

5) Who were you with?

6) Where will you be when 2007 ends?
Ask me the day after.

7) Who will you be with when 2007 ends?
The Fam and some uninvited special guests *sigh*

8) Did you keep your new years resolution of 2007?
I did pretty well with achieving goals this year. Did pretty well with failing miserably at achieving goals as well. It’s all about the balance, yo.

9) Do you have a new years resolution for 2008?
I do. But I wont speak them. Cuz I’m lame like that.

10) Did you fall in love in 2007?
Love is a losing game.”

11) If yes, with who?
Amy W!nehouse?? ;)

12) If yes, do they know?
Until we’re drunk and in bed, it appears. :(

13) Are you still in love with them?

14) You regret it?
No regrets (I HATE when people say this shit. Are you kidding me?? NONE?! That’s absurd.)

15) Did you breakup with anyone in 2007?
I did. Though I never actually uttered the words. Sometimes silence is all the convo you need.

16) Did you make any new friends in 2008?
I did. I told yall about a few that are still cool.

Question is, how many will stick?

17) Who are your (most memorable) favorite new friends?
I’m currently very excited about my new neighborhood drinking buddy!

18) What was your favorite month of 2007?
The entire summer was fantastic! August in particular.

19) Did you travel outside of the US in 2007?
Canada and Mexico

20) How many different states have you traveled in 2007?
9 states.

21) Did you lose anybody close to you in 2007?
Thank God no one died. But I lost a very good friend and lover.

22) Did you miss anybody in the past year?
Don’t I always? Distance blows.

23) What was your favorite movie that you saw in 2007?
Didn’t see very many flicks this year. But did catch Notes on a Sca.ndal at the top of the year and LOVED it. Also enjoyed Gone Gone and Amer!can Gangst.

24) What was your favorite song from 2007?
Absolutely anything that my youngest nephew learns the words to (which are of course songs I HATE in real life), including (*gasp* Soulj Boy, Beaut.Girl, Duff Bag Boy (ok this my shit! dont let it come on at a party!) and his little school songs)

25) What was your favorite album from 2007?
Mick Boogie/Lil Brother

26) How many concerts did you see in 2007?
LB (twice)
The Roots (twice)
Public Enemy
MC Lyte
Sean Paul
Barrington Levy
Black Sheep

27) Did you have a favorite concert in 2007?
Ummm, did you SEE that I saw Stevie this year?? Hands down best show of my life. In tears, singing every word, burning hot despite being out in the freezing cold.

28) Did you drink a lot of alcohol in 2007?
Except for that one week of sobriety.

29) Did you do a lot of drugs in 2007?
Drugs schmugs. Lame.

30) How many people did you sleep with in 2007?
Intercourse or …?
My Hiatus was well documented. And well over.

31) Did you do anything you are ashamed of this year?
Kind of.

And only a bit ashamed that I didn’t torch this muhfucker... yeah the effing bar I got kicked out of.

32) What was the biggest lie you told in 2007?
That I was somewhere I wasn’t.

33) What was the worst lie someone told you in 2007? (ok, I read this wrong at first)
"Damn, what time's your flight? Cuz, I mean, it's just, my place is such a mess, and I gotta study..." Booo!

34) Did you treat somebody badly in 2007?
Not purposely.

But on second thought, I was less than a friend to someone who’s always been a great friend.

35) Did somebody treat you badly in 2007?
*shrug* Fcuk em.

36) How much money did you spend in 2007?
What are you the Eye Arrah Ess?? (name that female bank heist movie)

37) What was your proudest moment of 2007?


38) What was your most embarrassing moment of 2007?
A particularly bad night out. A few drunk texts and a photographed penis included.

This wasn’t exactly a good look either.

Not being able to face my mom at a time I know she needs me.

39) If you could go back in time to any moment of 2007 what would it be?
The massage on the beach facing the Caribbean Sea.

40) What are your plans for 2008?
Last year I was on a plane all but two months out of the year. In ’08, I’d like to run the table and be out all 12! And...

Take another step into the world of academia.

Write a kick ass thesis.

Blog better.

Love fearlessly.

*Bonus question for anyone who decides to jack this...

"What were your fav posts of '07?"
This one makes me laugh for so many reasons.

Be easy!!!

Sunday, December 23, 2007


It's almost the end of the year? Are you effing kidding me?

I'm hard pressed to summarize '07, because so much happened and didn’t happen. I got a lot accomplished, I wasted a lot of time, I grew up, I stayed the exact same, I moved on, I got stuck, I was rewarded and punished, devastated and overjoyed. Mother has lived...

Looking back at some posts from a year ago, I'm struck by a couple things. I was at Love (the club) not long ago ago...right around the same time I told you guys about last year.

Then there was Thanksgiving. Went home. Enjoyed the fam and friends. Had pretty much the identical routine that I had Thanksgiving ' on Thursday, get home at dinner time, making a pit stop at the liquor store. The crew gets together to cook tacos and drink and ponder our places in the world. Old School party at the one grown and sexy club in town. Face off with him...

In Tha Club, Thanksgiving '07...

My cousin and I walk over to the bar and immediately see a few folks. My camera's out and the smiles light up the dark dance floor. Then I see Best Friend Guy across the way, with his girl in tow. I sneak over, lurk behind their backs, turn the lens to me, reach my arms in front of them and snap a picture of the three of us. They turn around confused and erupt in excited 'Oh Shit!s'. I'm only slightly buzzed at the moment, and yet it doesn’t occur to me that Best Friend Guy's BBF (him) is probably also in the building. When it does, I order two drinks.

This year, today, he exists in my life only in memory and hidden photos, exponentially more miles apart than his city is from mine. And while I let go of him in '07, the weight of '05 and '06 float to the surface like the ice in my drink. Like the bodies always do.

When one of my BFFs arrives at the club, he's drunker than I care to mention (let's just say he got kicked out of the party 3 times, and each time managed to find his way back in), and he wants me to be where he is.

I oblige. And no sooner than I do (to the tune of back to back to back Gooses), someone stalks over to where I'm dancing. The presence is familiar... and annoying. He reaches for the tight hug, and I respond with the knuckle tap, unable to make eye contact.

"Wise & Him!" Before I can retract, my boy has his lanky, drunken arms around both of our shoulders, announcing our names as the title it once was. My face gets hot, and I walk, almost stomp away, embarrassed as hell.

The rest of the night I'm extra aware of being watched. And when he finally walks up on me for a dance, I know without turning that it's him. His body still fits on mine the way it always did.

But what's different is that it no longer matches. It's so... last season. Outdated. Unwanted. Old.

As '08 looms, I'm thinking I need to change up my routine. I need to be in different places with different people, instead of always with the familiar ones running into familiarly unfamiliar folks. I can say that judging solely by what is documented on this blog, something's changed with me in '07. As so many of you have commented, I write different. I don't talk nearly as much shit. Who the eff AM I?

I vow that in '08 there will be more of the same... only different.


Thursday, December 13, 2007


Thugs and me, we just have an understanding.

And apparently there is no shortage of them on my block. Y’all remember this guy, the one who helped me “put together my dresser.” Yeah, Thug Love, about that…

So anywho, what can I say? They like to confide in me, tell me their life stories and plans. Maybe they sense that I may one day immortalize their shit for all the world to enjoy. I doubt they were expecting this bullshit ass blog.

So there’s this guy who lives in my building, and by lives, I mean he staying there with his peoples. We bonded one evening when we were both parking our cars on the block. Did I mention he drives a cab, but kinda didn’t seem like he was a cabbie, you feel me?

“You from NY?” he asks, eyeing my tags. “I didn’t know you were from NY.” We had always said hi and byes and chit chatted before, but nothing formal, and I was only familiar enough with him by face. No name.

“Lemme guess, you’re from the Bronx,” I respond. “By way of Puerto Rico.”

“Ya know it. That obvious, huh?”

“Lucky guess.”

From that day Papi and I have had many convos, mostly in the stairwell of our building, or him calling down to me from his apartment window. He’d hear me trudging up the stairs with grocery or shopping bags and he’d always come out and help, or just say hi, or ask me how I’m living.

I learned that Papi just got out like 3 months ago (this would explain the random letters left on the common mail area from the Dept of Corrections), and he’s working and just staying out of trouble. I never ask what they did to go in, cuz aint it always the same shit? Plus they usually tell me anyways. I don’t recall Papi ever going into detail about anything past tense. Mostly just future.

I did ask however, why he left the Bronx, and he just said, “Too much shit up there. But I do miss it though.”

He told me about how he got in a fight the weekend prior, how some big dude (Papi’s kinda thick, but only like 5’8” or so) punched the shit out of his homegirl at some BMore club. So Papi stepped in and did some heavy lifting. I admonished him not to get into shit. He shrugged it off. He regretted it, but had no qualms about defending a woman, and definitely none about the bruises on his knuckle.

“So what y’all be smoking down there?” I ask. “I be high as shit up here from the contact.”

“I don’t smoke nothing.”

“Yeah right.”

“Straight up.”

“They make you piss?”

“Twice a week.”

“Damn. I don’t even go to the gym twice a week. And there’s probably not two days a week that I walk by your door and don’t smell weed.” I’m incredulous. But Papi appears so damn well adjusted, if not thoroughly apathetic and detached.

“Be good. You better stay out of trouble.” That’s always my parting word to him.

“Stay beautiful. And eh, don’t forget I got this Dominican rum for you.”

So the other day I’m sleeping real hard right? And my buzzer goes nuts. This happens sometimes, like when the door is locked and my neighbor Barnyard is passed out and his people can’t get in. They buzz me. Or once a month or so my editor Fed.Ex’s me some shit…but wait, I’m not on deadline. And…hold up, it’s 7 in the effing morning. At 7 in the effing morning on a weekday, I am subconsciously clinging to my last moments of pass outedness. Anybody who should need access to my crib at this hour either has a key or has my damn number. I check my phone. Nothing.

But whoever is downstairs is laying on the damn buzzer. I open up my window to look down onto the sidewalk below and it’s a chick who looks like her…

“What is it!?!” I yell down.

“Police. Come open the door.”

I get real humble real quick. My ass is AAAAAWAKE!

I go splash some water on my face, and with every step I’m running in my mind what the hell I done did that’s finally caught up with me.

Omg, what I do? What I do!

My license?? Did I not pay my taxes?? I KNOW I paid my damn taxes! I ain’t steal nothing. I aint run no red lights on the blocks where they have the cameras. I aint beat nobody ass. I aint even got no internet porn in my possession! Ok, whatever it is I hope to God in heaven that it’s something I can explain. I hope they just here to talk, not cuff. WTF?!

I get downstairs and look out the window. Standing next to Kima is a look alike of this guy…

I nearly collapse to the floor. To make matters worse my eye catches his sleeve…


So uhhhhh, NO, they not here to do no type of talking. SHIT!

“Ma’am, do you live in apartment C?”

“Y-yes.” [editor’s note…it’s actually #3, but whatev. I was neither coherent nor equipped to be a smart ass]

They ask me this at least 5 more times. Then they both step inside the building and pull out a file. My head is spinning and my stomach tightens, afraid of what transgressions are held within.

“Do you know this gentleman?”

Papi’s gentle face stares back at me from the bad boy bin. My heart sinks.


“He doesn’t live with you?”

“No he doesn’t.”

“Do you live in Apt. C?” again, they repeat the inquiries as if about to conclude that 2+2 is obviously 4.

“Yes! My name is So Wise Sista and I live in Apt C. But I live there alone!”

“Have you seen him in this building?”




“Where have you seen him?”

“I don’t know. He just looks familiar.”

“Who else lives in the building?”

“A kid Barnyard lives on the second floor. Tall light skinned kid with long dreads. And I don’t know who lives there anymore,” I spill, pointing to the apartment ahead of us. “Used to be a white kid.”

My ears are clogged, my heart is effing pounding in them. All I could hear was that they thought I was housing a fugitive and I couldn’t believe they were gonna try to pin this shit on me.

So I spilled. Not on Papi (per se)…but definitely on the Barnyard muhfucka on the second floor with the Psycho White Broad girlfriend who be yelling and crying at all hours of the night, and who moved my effing laundry one time too many.

“Thank you.”

I sprint back up to my crib and slam the door behind me. Confused as shit.

I hear the jakes knocking on Barnyard’s second floor apartment door, but I can’t make out the convo. I also can’t recall if they smoked the night before. I know Papi’s not there, but still. Who knows what the Psycho White Broad might tell. Shit, I kinda told, didn’t I??

I crawled back into bed, got under the covers and called my sweetie, (who will from here on be affectionately known as DatNucca). I hung up feeling reassured that I didn’t sni.tch, but still sad. Dammit Papi…why!!!!

Monday, December 10, 2007


[We now interrupt the regularly scheduled programming
(and by programming, I mean my unfortunate hiatus due to the end of the semester.
Jameil has however, graciously granted me some leave time without penalty)...
to bring you *gasp* a post!]

I woke up this morning and the other side of the bed was still.

I still smell you there.

I followed the trail of clothes strewn about the crib, from the bedroom to the kitchen. My bra and coat near the front door. Jeans with a sock still stuck in the foot. The fuzzy one still MIA. I’ll be rocking the fly track jacket you left. It’s still on the floor of the closet.

The movie is still in the player, still unplayed. The photo album still unopened on the couch. The book I wanted to show you, still unread.

There is still a pool of Calgon blue water in my tub. I won’t shower for an hour or two, cause I love that your scent is still on my hands and neck.

The bowl of pineapple still where we left it on the bathtub edge.

Tea candles burned down to the tin casings still line the sink.

The loc gel and clips are still there too. My freshly twisted hair now a sweated out mess. Don’t feel bad, I’ll fix it good as new like you like.

You know what I still feel every time I walk into the kitchen. I spent considerable time washing dishes this morning, yeah cuz we left behind too many unfinished drinks (how DARE you!), but because I just wanted to be in there, ya know?

I still can’t believe I let you, us, smoke on the couch. The scene of many crimes.

The silence is still. No shuffled soundtrack of your ridiculous laugh. is still on shuffle though. Prophetic and well-timed as ever. My head still kind hurts...mostly from busting out laughing every few minutes. The one-liners, yo.

I started writing this while you were still here.

It’s still cold in here. Heat still not working. And though now I have no recourse but the covers, I’m still warm.

I’m not used to this, still.

[We now return you to my absense...already in progress...]

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  • So...Wise??

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    Our Nation's (HIV) way of Harlem, NY and Upsteezy NY
    I'm older than I look, and stupider than you think. But I'm quite proud of my sharp eye for The Ridiculous, and by Ridiculous, of course I mean Me.