Hilarious Tales of Race and Predjudice!

Im a whore for extra hours. I have 125 to make up after this quarter is over. Not too bad considering thats about a month missed over a year and a quarter, but I am dying to be done and have some summer left before I blow this popsicle stand. To that end, i went with Ms V to Langston Hughes Performing Arts Center to do hair and makeup for the Nova School play. It has been a long time since I was in high school, I will give you that but I just know I KNOW I wasnt that dorky and hideous. Anyone who knew me then and disagrees can kindly shut their yapper. THese kids were so nerdy it was all we could do to not laugh out loud at them. And their teachers were so damn disorganized it was amazing to think that theyd had any prior rehearsals. It was me, one other girl from my class, and a few of the hilarious mean AfAm girls from the third quarter class. They, having mostly gone to rainier beach, had never experienced this kind of extreme white nerdyness before, I dont think, and they thought there was seriously something wrong with these kids. They were all speaking in english accents, this one boy had huge curly hair which he let mat into nasty...matts in the back of his head which I had to comb out and flatiron. He complained and sucked breath in dramatically the whole time. After about 2 hours, we had about had it. Ms V owed me a birthday drink so we decided to go eat and have a drink nearby while the play went on. Gwenevere, a HILARIOUS 50 something woman who looks about 30, and the two other younger black girls and Ms V and I all cut out and went to a little ethiopian restraunt down the street. We drank honey wine, ate gomen and laughed about people at the school until we cried. Gwenevere told this story about Evelyn, remember the jeweltone wearing ex crackhead in third quarter who was the victim of the other crackhead's attempt at a french twist? Well, in a strange turn of events, it turns out Evelyn, despite looking for all the world like a lost cousin of the Judd family, is black. I dont know how or why, but apparantly she is. ive seen her family, and they certainly are. And so is her husband, to whom she has been married for nineteen years and is very very handsome. You just never can tell. Anyway, for some reason, Annie, an older chinese woman in the second quarter class (whom I avoid like the plague because I cant understand a cottonpickin' thing she's saying, and she always asks me questions, at least I think theyre questions, and laughs uproariously, leaving me feeling very weird) was trying to get to Evelyn's House on beacon hill. So evelyn gets a call from the nearby firestation. She answers, Its Annie. Apparantly she was on her way to evelyns house but got scared by the AMOUNT OF BLACK MEN HANGING OUT and went to THE FIRE STATION to call Evelyn to come PICK HER UP!!! I almost died. God I wish you could see these people. THen Ms V told a story about ol' Paris Froggylips at the Nairobi hair show. Apparantly she showed up with her boyfriend (who brings their man to a hairshow anyway??) but didnt stay long. Ms V said "Hey I saw you at the Nairobi show but you didnt stay long, were there too many black people ?" Which I thought was pretty ballsy of her just to come out and say it like that. Ms V can get away with anything. So Paris Froggylips giggles and was like "yeah! (like how did you know??) My boyfriend said this place isnt for you, lets go and i was like why and he was like look around so we left." What a fucking dingbat. It was fun, and in school the last few days those girls have said hello, or at least responded when I do, I dont think they can keep up their image of me as a...god, I dont even know what, snob maybe, or wannabe, maybe a know it all. I wish theyd come out and say it to me instead of shutting up when I look their way. Id really be interested to know. I think theyre funny and all really talented hairdressers. Maybe theyll come around. At least Id never cower at a firestation waiting for them to come and rescue me from the scary brothers!
Since memorial day, the breakroom has absolutely reeked of barbeque. And I cant stand barbeque sauce or the way it smells. I know barbequing is a stronghold of black culture, as is bringing it in after a holiday to show off your sauce recipie or who makes the best ribs or whatever, and Im sure it is good but DAMN it smells strong. Nothing like the mingling whiffs of pressing hair and bbq sauce to get the stomach churning. Friday was a good day, despite knowing that by the end of the day I would have no voice (fucking laryngitis,) I worked my tail off. First was Ms Alexander who I love more by the minute. I went to see her on memorial day and sat at her kitchen nook, with her in her purple silk nightshirt and rollers, drinking sparkling white zinfandel, eating cheetos (a combination which she seemed to feel was like chips and salsa) and watching oprah and her friend eat their way accross the country for memorial day. They ended up with Maya Angelou and her new cookbook, which is predictably called something like the Hallelujah table. Ms Alexander showed me pictures of her dear deceased husband and had me park in the driveway to make her neighbors curious. She is an amazing and deeply funny woman.
This friday she was talking about some survey, also on Oprah, which was trying to prove/ dispel the black men are well endowed myth. Apparantly its true, and she said "I say that to say this, my grandson is well endowed! I used to change his diapers!" You know she is always trying to get me to meet her grandson. I told her Id keep that in mind. She also told me a great story about when she was a nurse in the VA hospital in New Orleans. It was at the time of white and colored hospitals, exept for the VA, all veterans went to the same place. So she goes into this soldier's room to bathe him. He stinks to high heaven under the cast hes wearing from the neck to the waist. He says to her "Youre not bathing me! I dont want your black hands anywhere near me!!" She says "Thats fine, but you need a bath, and unless you want to lay there stinkin like you are, Im all youve got!" "What happened?" "I bathed his ass!!" Priceless. Then Gul and Hanifa came in for haircuts (private corner station is perfect for Hijabi haircutting!), then Baby T. I used a lot of the techniques that Ive learned from Becca. I was too sick to go to RL this week, my throat was killing me. Abena and I have become really good friends, and I went to visit her on my sick day. We went hair shopping for my graduation weave. Its going to be AWESOME. Beyonce eat your heart out. I had a perfectly quintessential seattle experience trying to go to a film festival movie, which I never do, and was reminded of why. SO, i knew I wanted to go to this Jeff Buckley documentary really far in advance. I asked Racheal Peacock to go with me, but she couldnt. WHat she could do was give me two ticket vouchers, so I thought "great, I dont have to buy tickets!' I ask Pablo, visiting from NYC, already cant stand seattle, to go with me. Hes free. Its all too easy. Pablo and I meet downtown, pay for parking at EMP, stand in this really long line made up mostly of people I know and narrowly avoided having to "catch up" with, got to the front and were told that they couldnt seat anyone with vouchers until all the tickets were sold, and this was a sold out show. Now, tell me what the use of a voucher is if its only good once the damn thing is full??? I would gladly have bought tickets if Racheal hadnt so generously given me her Linda's neighborhood perk tickets. Thanks! So the dumb VOLUNTEER ticket takers have us wait another half an hour in case some passholders dont show up and then tell us sorry, but we have to leave at least five seats open in case any passholders come late. They assured us that they didnt get to see it either, they werent allowed to stand in the back or anything. I DONT CARE!! Nobody asked your dowdy ass to be a SIFF volunteer! You coulda bought tickets like the rest of the lucky sots that filled the little EMP theatre so fast. The whole thing was so SO annoying and filmly cliqueish. It reminded me why I rarely try to partake in any of seattle's overlauded events. Hopefully the damn thing'll come out on DVD and I can get it at Scarecrow. Obscure filmsnobs that they are.


ADDENDUM: This is the email my friend Amani sent me after the movie. Too funny and illustrative not to include. Enjoy.


so no love lost, dear. I hope. I read your blog today and learned that
you didn't get in to see the Jeff buckley movie. I felt like such an
asshole (passhole), sauntering by you to go in. That voucher situation
is stupid.
The documentary was filled with boohiss shitheads from Jeff's
entourage, plus celebrity cameos from Chris (hesucksIhatehim) Cornell
and areyousittingdown- Sebastian Bach. Because I'm privvy to insider
industry information and such, via Maggie Cornell and family, I
learned that this documentary was highly unpopular with those closest
to Mr. Buckley, hence the Bach appearance. The footage of JB was nice,
not long enough. What I really want is a few hours of footage of him
singing, and interviews with him. This was not that. boo. I give it a
5 on a ten scale. Plus, we happened to be sitting next to Mr.
Boozypants, whose breath was so gin-laden, that it made me nauseous.
Thank God my friend Denise who was sitting next to me, had her
waist-long hair up since her morning shower, and mercifully let it
down, so I could bury my hypersensitive nose in it. I woulda barfed,
or left, or yelled at the dipshit. eugh.
Anyhoodle, I hope this makes you feel a little better. I had access to
another pass that night- if I'd have known you loved JB, I'd have
snatched it up. Believe it or not, I had a hard time finding folks to
come with me! Short notice and all, but still!
So, I'm sorry I was a Passhole, and I hope I wasn't one of the people
you narrowly avoided catching up with in line. ;)
xo
Amani