De La Soul vs. ATCQ

In my mind, there has always been a battle in the Native Tongue Family between De La Soul and A Tribe Called Quest. For me, Tribe always won because of my longstanding crush on Q-tip. I've met Tribe and Tip at least 3 times in my life. Most recently, we met in Columbia at the Rock the Bells tour, where Tribe did a meet and greet. This was probably the lamest meeting ever (Which reminds me, go see the movie, "The Wackness" if you haven't already.) because Tip spent the entire time on the phone instead of meeting and greeting us. Even when he signed my poster he was on the phone! Even when I told him about my longstanding crush on him, he looked up for about 3 seconds, then went back to his phone conversation once he saw my face. So why, you ask, do I continue to love him? Besides the fact that he is one of many bad choices I've made in my life, and that I'm a glutton for punishment, I don't really know. Actually, as of that day, my unrequited love for him is over. He's been a jerk to me for the last time. I don't need him! Enter De La Soul.
Pos (Plug 1) from De La Soul has also been a secret crush of mine for many years. I've also met De La numerous times in life and despite them being kind and friendly each time, I've always favored Tribe (bad choices... bad choices...). The last time I met De La was here in London. Maseo DJed a party at a pub in Kilburn and I dragged Maya (shout out!) along since she was in town visiting. Mase played everything Maya and I used to dance to back in middle school. As Pos and Dave mixed and mingled in the club, I went over to each of them to have a chat. I told Pos that I enjoyed their show earlier in the week and was looking forward to seeing them again in the States. I reminded Dave of the time I ran into him in Target in Largo, MD back in 2002 trying to buy glitter and made him sign an autograph for me. He did, then I helped him find the glitter. He laughed and was excited that I was from MD. I think my flattery and chatting paid off tonight.
I just saw them at the Jazz Cafe. My friend Tina and I were in the third row. They performed my favorite song- "Ego Trippin'"- that they never perform! I've seen them 3 times since May and they haven't done that song once until tonight. Then, they stopped the show and had a little group pow wow over by the turntables. They glanced at the crowd a few times and we all stood wondering what would happen next. I think Dave recognized me and wanted visual confirmation from the others that it was me. Next, they asked for the biggest fan in the crowd- the person who knew the most about De La. Tina shouted out, "Over here! She does! Right here!" Everyone turned and looked and suddenly they were all pointing at me too.
Pos brought me up on stage. Pos said, "I don't know. She didn't seem too sure. She looks the part though. She looks intelligent. She smells good (Thank you DKNY Be Delicious!). She might be able to do it." They asked my name and I told the crowd Michelle. Dave said I needed a more hip hop name (More hip hop? Don't you listen to Slick Rick? "Mi-chelle, ma belle.."), so he called me "Michelle Rock Well."
I was scared they were gonna make me try to rap at this point, but they just asked me what day it was. Of course I was going to say Saturday, but then some guy in the front row yelled it out. So Pos brought him on stage too and said, "Man, you fucked it up! It's ok. Since she's the MC, you can be the DJ. We'll call you DJ Fuck Up." (Poor guy!) They performed "A Roller Skating Jam Named Saturdays" and gave me the mic and let me sing a few bars. I stayed on stage for the entire song dancing and singing along. They all gave me big hugs before I went back to my spot in the crowd. It was great! I love them! Go buy all of their albums if you don't have them already! They are the nicest guys out there!
I am officially over my obsession with Tribe. My heart belongs to De La Soul!

Here I am on stage with Pos.

B-day black & blues

Thanks to anyone who thought of me & sent me birthday greetings! Although I'm fighting a little cold, I had a lovely birthday weekend overall. Here's the recap in case you care:
Friday night: Jon & Cierra's going away party. Those two are always the hosts of a good time! More liquor than food, dancing & hot guys. Who could ask for anything more? I have to admit that I was VERY tired after my first week of school (see my previous post), so I didn't really want to got to this party. However, I was soon glad that I did go. Firstly, I looked hot. Not to mention the facts that I had a new dress on, I'd lost weight, and after a few drinks I got a second wind & was a dancing fool. Enter Alex.
He's the hottie in the circle of friends that I'd been scoping out since the first time we met. Roger informed me that he had a girlfriend. :( The thing is, I couldn't hate on her too much cause I was just jealous that her man was hot. Plus she was mad cool. Every time she saw me, it was like I was her best friend on Earth. We'd spend hours at a party talking, and laughing, and shaking it fast. I started to look forward to seeing both of them at a party- her for the fun, him for the eye candy.
Tangentially, we ran into him randomly in the streets of Venice for Yemi's b-day celebration. He and a friend had drinks with us and chatted a bit. He'd just moved his girlfriend into his place following a temporary breakup.
Fast forward to Friday night, he's happy to see me and announce that he and the girlfriend have broken up. I rolled my eyes when he said it and said, "You'd just broken up the last time I saw you too." He replied, "This time it's permanent." Ouch! Girl, what did you do?
His rebound bounced him right to me. He was all in my face all night joking & dancing. What good birthday fortune! Attracting such attention from Alex made John, my crackish ex (Sorry Gary! Lesson learned the hard way even after your warning. We broke up.), anxious. Now John and I have been separated for almost 6 months. He immediately started seeing someone else and trotted her out to meet our friends knowing that it'd get back to me. We saw one another for the first time in 3 months at a dinner party. I got drunk and passed out in his lap (so ugly, I know!), but our vibe was cool. We were happy to see one another. The conversation flowed. I felt comfortable enough to fall asleep in his lap and he was comfortable enough to let me. Two months later we meet again at this party and are still glad to see one another. We talked about his new relationship, our lives, and everything else under the sun, especially when he saw Alex talking to me. He'd pull me into the bathroom, or the bedroom, or out in the hall to talk. We spent 20 mins locked in the bathroom which left Roger questioning if we'd planned a reconciliation. Nope, just talking. It took a few of these come-with-me-for-a-minute chats for me to see the pattern. John was jealous! He had a girl and still didn't want me talking to anyone else! What the hell? How's that fair? I even asked what the breakdown was with us (aside from his obvious drug abuse) in his opinion. He said I was too nice. Right...my bad. Everyone knows that no one wants a nice girl. They want their girlfriend to be a psycho bitch (Ok, so maybe if you're a junkie you do- that makes sense now.). Anyway, I'm in awe of that foolishness. I can't believe him!
So Alex and spent the night at Jon and Cierra's. We talked until 6am. He walked me to the tube in the morning and texted me later that night... and the next day... then he called. And texted again the next day. :) A cutie and a sweetie- happy birthday to me!
Saturday night was spent in recovery mode from Friday until my downstairs neighbors threw a rager. Steph and I were pissed, so I yelled down to them from the window to find out what the deal was. Turns out one of them was celebrating his birthday, so I ended up going down there and having a couple of drinks at their party before bed.
Sunday was a furious shopping and cleaning mission. Then went to my friend Rudi's for her Notting Hill Carnival party. Went late & left early to get ready for my own bash. My party was the after party from hers. We had about 15 people over to drink, chat & play Wii. I kicked ass in Dance Dance Revolution and Wii boxing. That's my only workout these days, so I try hard and I'm getting better. My arms are still sore from the boxing!
At about 2:30am, Steph went into her room, laid down, got under the covers. I walked the rest of our guests down to the front door of the building. The flat door slammed shut behind me. I was in a sleeveless dress and barefoot. I came back up & knocked, but she didn't answer. I banged. I yelled. I kicked the door. Nothing. The party boys from downstairs came out & asked if I wanted them to go out & ring the buzzer for me. I said yes, then went down and rang the buzzer myself for about 20 mins (sound familiar?). Nothing. I went back up. I banged more. I yelled more. I kicked the door more. Nada. The neighbor across the hall came out and threatened to "bodily remove" me from the building if I wasn't quiet (I know it was 2am, but he could've just let me use the phone.). 3 hours later, I saw her walk past the keyhole. I shoved old mail under the door until she opened it. On Monday, my actual birthday, I slept until noon and went to bed early to be fresh for work in the morning.
Steph claimed she never heard a thing. She blames me for leaving the house without my keys. My right hand is still tender and bruised from hitting the door.
I wonder if Alex would let me move in with him now that his girlfriend is gone...

Isht like this always happens to me

When I was a kid, I had an awful babysitter who took care of me, my cousin, and various other children. Part of the poor care package she offered my family was that we had to bring our own snacks to her house. In addition, she'd often leave us unattended and let the older ones watch the younger ones. On one such occasion, I remember we had pretzel sticks for snack. That same day, I also remember a little boy pooping into a small bucket (the kind you'd use to build sand castles at the beach). Later, as some stupid child presented the dookie bucket to the babysitter, I remarked that our pretzels had been used to decorate the poo. In high school, there was the incident in the new bathroom off the Common Room in which some demented girl smeared feces all over the bathroom stall, floor, and mirror. In college, there was the shower shitter. This girl shat in each of the 4 shower stalls in my dorm bathroom- reinforcing the need for shower shoes. Now in London, my world is rocked by fecal matter once again.
Here's the situation. Yesterday was my first day of school with kids. Work was great! However, I was exhausted at the end of the day. Steph and I came back to our local pub, had dinner and a drink, then went home to crash. I napped for a few hours and got up when Roger called later that evening around 9pm. After putzing around on the internet for a bit, I decided it was time for bed at about 1am. I found it tough to fall asleep again, but I drifted off around 1:30am. At 2am, my neighbors decided that it was party time and blasted music for over an hour into our back garden. I lay in bed trying to block it out and managed to doze off again around 3am. Then, according to Steph (I don't really know because I was asleep), at 3:30am, some crazy woman came and buzzed our downstairs doorbell for half an hour. Steph looked out the window to see who was there, but since the woman was a stranger, Steph didn't let her into the building.
Fast forward to this morning. At 6am, I go out in my bathrobe to put the trash on the curb. I walk down the first flight of stairs to discover that the front door to the building is wide open. Who knows how long for? Who knows who opened it? Who knows who left it open? In my head, I vow to ensure that it's locked on my way back inside. As I walk out of the open door, I'm greeted by a log of human feces. The repugnant stench filled my nostrils as I hurried past. Leaving the trash on the curb, I ran by again, averting my nose and locking the door behind me. I sat alone, in horror at my kitchen table.
To whom does this type of thing happen besides me? I am a woman who is perpetually constipated- since birth! I blame it on the fact that I have an uptight personality which translates into me being literally, anal retentive. Consequently, I rarely encounter my own feces, let alone that of others. Why then, is my life plagued with shit? Literal shit. This much feces is too much for one person! If I begin to take laxatives regularly, will I stop encountering the feces of others?
I'm getting tired of this shit!