celebrate, celebrate, sweat to the music

wow – the 100th blog celebration was bananas!! thanks to all who signed up on the registry, the matching checkers/battleship set is 2sweet2bdnied! also thanks to all the sarcastic people who hated on my search for koran cliff notes. you just put the fire of allah a little deeper in my heart.

my landlady is getting out of hand. my girl malia was over and had to run to the church of atm and i gave her the keys to run her errand, and when she went out my landlady yelled at her for not locking all the right doors.

i keep waiting for our mr. miagi moment. NO! not cause she is older and asian, but because in general i think all living situations are potential mr. miagi moments. i am constantly waiting for someone with a commanding voice to ask for my rent check, get me in shape, teach me to kick ass and catch flies – and also someone who i can ask where the pool is. but unfortunately i think my landlady may just be a crazy old bitch with no techniques to impart.

prior to my fit of whispered repressed landlord lashings, today was the day of pampering and softening. i woke and worked until malia arrived. today was beauty day: we made the raw egg, olive oil and mayonnaise mix and put it on our hair for an hour, did mud masks, baths and let big russian men beat us with hot soaked oak leaves.

i think the day is also well captured by a ‘what u ate’ moment: i ate sunflower seeds and turkey jerky all day, and had my current favorite soup – broccoli (two cs or two ls – damnit!) and cheddar. yummy! i am having the best time with oreo cookies these days! after some scarring days in my youth around being a mixed kid and the existence of oreos, i took a loooong hiatus from these black and white bits of perfection, but now i have come to a healthy place of loving myself, with all the mystery of what might yet show up in my blood, blessings to the ambiguous spirit of many-cultured baybays. one. so anyway i can love oreo cookies! hmm – jerky, seeds and oreos. maybe i am on a camping trip in my parallel life?

these are just the latest of my food phases. i go through phases with foods where i jones like a pregnant woman – which is perhaps why i often resemble one in profile. i often stay in a phase until i have indulged to the point of disgust and can’t eat whatever it is ever again, past fads have included: rice pudding, pineapple cottage cheese, fish sticks, pizza (several times), french onion soup, bratwurst, cinammon toast crunch. and um…the lettuce and tomato salad from black iris on dekalb with no tomato.

i cut my hair again and i think i did her wrong. as is the usual practice when this occurs, i am kind of itching to get back at it with the scissors. if there’s an elvis in heaven i’ll still have some hair tomorrow!

i got news of an upcoming visit today which sent a chill up my spine 🙂

i’m sorry i can’t even continue with this post, i am so upset about the f-ing supreme court. i can’t lie about it. a non-judge is the next nominee?????? like no fronts, no veils? come on, make it slightly more subtle when you are leaning back in the cut to spend the next period of history stripping me of my rights and leaving $10 on the table in club-democrisy.

my 100th post!!

pop the corks babies, mama’s 100!!

this means i am at least self-absorbed enough to repeat this somewhat manic journaling behavior 100 times. and knowing that, i will try to give a good one today.

starting with:

today i got a call that went roughly like this:

person: yo you will appreciate this
me: wassup
person: so friday my friend played carnegie hall, and they put him and his band up at the W hotel
me: swank
person: yeah so he calls me and my man and is like, yo this is my one chance to party at the W. you down?
me: of course you are.
person: of course i are! so adrienne, we partied at the W hotel like rock stars. it was hot.
me: word
person: we even got kicked out! like 30 guards came to escort us out!
me: oh that’s awesome
person: yes, and i got totally trashed, drinking, and smoking. and i should know better than to drink and smoke cause it always makes me vomit.
me (grossed out): you vomited in the hotel??
person: no! i totally pulled an adrienne!!!

pause for narrative reflection…

a couple of years ago i used to be a different kind of pleasure activist. not the new agey life is a joyful noise type, but the ‘ingest the best ignore the rest’ type…yes, i had my wild days, i would work a depressing job in publishing all day, immerse my head in the nearest pot-cloud all night, and then find joy on the weekends in the form of roughly anything that can be purchased with a smiley face on the packaging! when nothing special was available, i would call my good friend whiskey and say, quite simply, ‘come put the hurt on me you fine old bitch.’

after one such night, my sister and i had to go pick up my mama at the airport. i woke up with a sloshing pool of whiskey still splattering up and over the barricades of my sanity, but i put on a smile and we took the subway, then the little bus shuttle they had in those days at JFK. we waited and there she was, my sweet mama. we said i was feelin a bit under the weather – working so hard you know…and we hopped in the back of a cab. and i even thought to myself ‘good girl – unless she lights a match and you explode you are about to be off the hangover hook!’

somewhere on 3rd avenue the gods of hungover transportation realized the massive wrong i was about to pull off, which would set the wrong karmic precendent for baby alkies from coast to coast, and clutched my belly like triton clutches his demonic joystick before a bad wave. the cab came to a stop, i opened the door, and a bad wave within me loosed roughly a gallon of pure jack daniel’s onto the scorching summer pavement. i then sat up, closed the door, and gave my mother a demure smile.

its been years since i’ve been drunk enough to throw up, but it is with some pride that i listen to someone telling their own personal keith richards story and feel it appropriate to call it an adrienne moment.

in other news, i got off a red eye from canada a few hours ago. i had an amazing time in vancouver. no working phone means big time creativity in trying to communicate. i was sending mental text messages and searching for wi-fi and ended up having an amazing reconnection with a few of the folks from my hollyhock heaven retreat earlier this year – everyone is looking good and bright and had positive stories to tell. then i got to go meet a woman i have been in orbit with for years, since my harm reduction days. she played me justin timberlake videos and took me to cloud 9 on the bc bud express. soulmate!

we were both young in the harm reduction movement when it seemed really exciting, and got to share in the sadness that right now there doesn’t seem to be a commitment to folks like us in that particular movement, then thumbed through the memories of our harm reduction folks we love who are still doing the hardcore frontlines work. i always hope for a new moment there, but it will have another name, and other faces, eh?

yes i said ‘eh’ – what? its an awesome way to end a sentence!

amidst the delirious sleep on the plane i had another – perhaps i’ll just call it a hunger pang for the heartbreaker. the pang felt like this: ‘go to him’. then this other pang in my brain was like, ‘yeah right, go be his therapist slash therapist slash special ed teacher. no one wants that, you don’t want to do it and he doesn’t want it done. give him some room for pride! give yourself some room for new nookie! back away slowly, and smile.’

i am starting to realize that the whole discourse may just be a travel thing, like a twitch that occurs in my heart at roughly 32,000 feet, and that’s all. i wanted to sing the joss stone song at him – ‘a car this fine don’t pass your way every day – dontcha wanna ride baby?’ i think this means the deep love is devolving to a teenage pop song emotion. that’s fine cause my heart looks great blowing big pink bubbles.

by the time i landed i had slept if off. now i am feeling a bit cracky as i try to stay up and get back quickly on east coast time. sofia and jenn are sitting somewhere with lunch hot and the cosby show playin and i am going to set out on an urban voyage to find them. oh this week is a good week to go out in the world and put on your cool hat:

tuesday is rude movements – tchaiko’s last rude movements for a while as she strikes off for hotter places. go to apt around 10ish and find tyler and the crew spinnin the ill-type beats on an international tip. lots of fine people to gawk at sideways.

then wednesday my girl ilana is in town on a bill with this palestinian hip-hop crew DAM: oct 5 at climax (14 ave b) $5-10 sliding scale starts at 9:30 (THANK GOD – pet peeve, shows that start at 11pm on a weeknight. only the artist thinks this is cool). come on out and grind on me.

also, my cab driver today was giving me the skinny on the koran and how useful it would be for me to read some of it, perhaps even daily. i really thought this was sweet and perhaps a divine message, so am going to buy one today, cause ramadan starts this week. happy ramadan!!

kinda hard bein tired in the ubc

sittin here watching fists of fury in canada. this movie is never less than entertaining.

woke up on a plane in vancouver today…i vaguely remember a dream of waking up, getting on the bart after 17 minutes of waiting, running through the airport and begging to be let on the plane, making it on as a result of miracle and muscle. i have the faith of the constant traveler – i run late but quick, breathe deep, stay calm with each of the people i need to help me get where i’m going.

about to crash out for some sleep – was up late last night at the leftist lounge party. i went with daniel alarcon, who i like to call the new latin voice, because that’s what he’s called on the back of his book of short stores – and because i believe he is the next best writer in the world. i got to glimpse his completed novel, meet his kitten, and watch him eat pie. love that kid! i’ve been reading his work since my sophomore year in school and remain an avid fan, as well as friend, if friendship can be avid.

he drove me deep into oakland, asking if i had any hook-up to get in. i didn’t, i had just heard it was cool from e’erbody, and marty from ruckus was djing. so we hop in line, and my dear sweet friend hobbes walks by and plucks us out of the masses and we’re on the fast track into the heart of the party. turns out the space is her home/warehouse, the center of activity her living room. plenty hot big party. my biggest memory is daniel looking on with joy as i samba, and then my ankle realizing mid-samba that it was still sprained you dumb bi-atch so stop the fcuk moving! i spent the rest of the night looking for elevation.

daniel picked me up from the brower youth awards, one of the most inspirational nights i’ve had recently: all these groundbreaking under-21 young people who, between them, are saving urban wetlands, sea turtles, building international community in 16 countries, creating respectful spaces with Native peoples in Arizona, saving salmon’s natural habitat, and fighting for (and winning) comprehensive sex education in New Mexico. mind? blown! i had the honor of presenting two young women – jessica rimington and la constance shahid. i was entertained by zander, amazed by andrea and dan, and adored erika and kayla. i’ll put up speeches as i get them. (www.broweryouthawards.org)

between these two events i got to spend the evening with klee, evon and dan from flagstaff, julia butterfly hill (from the tree called LUNA) and van jones, the crown city rockers, hannah + jc + rachel + marty + john from ruckus, adam mansbach (the other other white novelist), brooklyn’s own coco and the lovely dancer sasha, lovely leaguer natasha, ibrahim the everywhereman, shayna who used to be at DPA, i could go on an on, such a nice convergence. klee laid me out and did some traditional chiro work on my ankle and alignment that he learned from his dad, who is a medicine man. for this reason and his turquoise earrings, i heart klee. also got to have lunch with the brower folk and evon and i sat and built the bridge of our introduction with stories of the people we love in common. then he broke me off inspiration to start a walking meditation. the world is infinite and tiny.

i want a maltese puppy! baby and dan are on their way to bangalore india with a maltese puppy and i love it – perfect size and weight to be my travel companion. they have the air of adventure about them and i cannot wait to visit!

and finally, weird timing but i’m having this moment i think might be described as proudly chaste. usually when approached on a physical tip, regardless of where i am in my head, i just try to get my mind into it. not the goodies, just some hot kisses, wrapping an evening up. i feel like i’m always trying not to disappoint anyone, plus i am fairly good at – you know…whatever. so i just do it. but that’s wrong, that’s a corporate approach to intimacy, and disingenuine, and no fun for anyone – especially me. so i was able to break with that behavior this week. the bay has exactly 534 people in it that move some part of me and several of those were kickin the ill-type game. but i no good at math!! so i set my boundary and held it, in part i think cause of the maturity of folks i was kicking it with, but it was so nice to just turn off that betty boop adrienne and just chill. i’ve been in this space before for days, even weeks. but usually i just turn into quiet asshole, or rush them through, to opt out, so this time i am proud cause i spoke up.

so three cheers for actin grown!!

and three cheers for naptime!!