My Bra Is Too Tight and My Weave Is On Expire (But It Could Be Worse)

Are you laughing at me yet? You should be. This of course is my week of b*tching and wining. I am that six year old screaming and kicking in the middle of the toy store yelling "...that's not fair! I want it! Give it to me!!!!!!!....Now of course being raised by a black mother, she didn't allow such tom foolery. So instead of kicking and screaming I've chosen a waspy route. Say nothing and drink everything.

This friends, is not the way to go. Trust me.

This is typical Taurus behavior. Angry because the chocolate truffle is 71% cacao and not 41%.
Pissed because the Trader Joes Cab Sav that we sip on is not the same as Clos Du Bois. Bored with the ginger scone from the local bakery, and bored to death of macrobiotic cafes.

Don't get it twisted, I certainly do not have a dilettante's life. I work hard to pick my cotton. The problem is, I'm shining somebody else's nickel. And the sh*t has got to stop.

Bless the lord for providing me with a relatively easy job. I like the folks I work with and enjoy what I do. But here's the problem:

This AIN'T what I really do.

I'm an artist (I know, wipe the vomit from your shirt. Just saying something so cliche makes me wanna puke too). But when I look at my hero's I wonder: Did they waste away their precious hours as a shopkeeper? Living in some shitty tenement trying to find the "artistic beauty" in roaches, rats, and Jarritos bottles strewn across the lawn? The sound of birds, no wait HELICOPTERS swirling above your house at 3am? It's like just stunn gun this fcker so I can get some sleep.

I look at Peter Beard and I think "How'd he do that?"

I look at Jean Michel Basquiat and think "Why the fcuk didn't you hang on baby? But thank God we had you..."

JK Rowling laughed her limey ass all the way to the bank writing about muggles and wizards.

Shaun White gets paid obscene amounts of money to play in the snow.

Viola Davis opens up her soul to a camera, and makes us marvel at her bravery.

Lynn Nottage, Tanya Barfield, Kate Whoriskey, JoAnne Akalitis, Lydia Diamond all leave us wanting more theatre.

Them b*tches from The Hills never have restaurant reservation problems.

Now do I want to be one of those vapid, I'll show up to any opening for a photo op, I haven't eaten in 4 years actor celebrities? Eating at Mr. Chow, Katsuya or the stupid Ivy? Fcuk no. But would I like to buy a gown for the opening of a new play? Would I like to do an interview for Fresh Air on NPR? Would I like to chat with any of the journalists for Radio Pacifica? Appear on the cover of Mad Magazine? Travel to Ville Franche for hiatus? Buy my mother WHAT EVER SHE WANTS, buy my brother a box at Comiskey Park or the Stadium (I refuse to say US Celluar Field or the United Center)? Go to all the award shows (because I've been nominated) collect all that swag and give it to every little black and brown girl in the hood to let them know "this isn't what real beauty is, but in the mean time enjoy this over priced necklace????"

FCUK YES. OUI! SI!

Exhale. Wow, that felt good. Sorry dear reader, I promise next time I will be more focused and positive. In the mean time, I"m still making art. Still laughing. Still loving. What else is there to do???

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