More than six random things

The wonderfully wonderful Anna tagged me, which I am very glad for, so here it goes.

SIX RANDOM THINGS ABOUT YOURS TRULY

1. I don't work at the Mad Hatter Cafe, but I like to help close up there and pretend like I work there.  All of the staff and a few of the regulars know me.

2. I take a hip hop class at ninth street dance every thursday and it brings me so much joy, I feel like a nerd about it all the time.  I burned my teacher a CD and we're doing a dance to a song on it and it makes me feel so fucking cool.

3. I have only read and finished maybe ten books total in my high school career out of all the books they've assigned in English.  I've always gotten straight A's, too.  How do I do it?  I have no clue.

4. In my seventh grade year book, I wrote things over everybody's head.  "Friend" "Cool"  "Nice" "Weird".  Talk about LAME.

5. Just this evening, I was watching politics with my parents, and they were talking about dog names (cause the Obama's are getting a portugese water dog) and I decided I want to have a big fat cat one day named "Chief Rocka" and quite possibly a Great Dane or some other large dog named "Lil Bit" or something along those lines

6.  I have been at Durham School Of The Arts since sixth grade.  That is seven years, this year.  I COULD NOT BE MORE FUCKING READY TO LEAVE.  I apologize for what must sound like me yelling in your head, but for real, that is how ready I am to leave.  So.  Fucking.  Ready.

If either of them see this, I tag Annie at Annie's Sidewalk Cafe Of Unimportant things, and Mari at Venture Into The Mind of Mari.  They are in my writing through literature class and both thoroughly awesome.

In the spirit of things that are random, here are some pictures and things on my mind

Do you remember "The White Rapper Show" on VH1, I think it was?  Well, this is a picture from that.  I really have come to the conclusion that my ultimate dream is to be a rapper.  My more likely one is just a writer, but if I could rap.....God, that'd be fucking it.

And after some snooping on AA

These tights are GOREGOUS, so old school, and they make me think of Anna, which makes me smile and feel fashionable :]

I know they talk about the difference between a want and a need.  I need shiny high waisted leggings, and my mother hates stirrups, and since I am too broke to buy my own clothes and have some credit at AA that we need to figure out, I will convince her.  They're so so so beautiful and versatile and sassy and I just adore them

The bandeau body suit.  I want it in black.  It's foxy fierce, and I think I could rock it.

SHOES

These are just fucking sick

I saw this picture and damn near skeeted myself.  I own no fly ass nike/adida high tops and my sister stole back the checkered vans.  If only I had this beauty here.....

I thought this was a sweet picture

I am working with a lot of different stuff for fiction and I promise I will put up more of my creative writings soon!!!

MC Chris Owns! I Wanna go to an MC Chris Show! But he doesn't tour, so in the meantime I'm gonna memorize all of his rhymes!

As a long time fan of hip hop, my saturday night was a big fucking deal, because I went to my first Rap Concert EVER (I mean, unless you count Shwayze, but I'm really not counting it).  I saw the one and only MC CHRIS at the Cat's cradle

Some post show pictures of me

Looking sassy for the concert

(To preface this, I know the signature is backwards, but just work with me here) So I went up to him after the show to get my shirt signed, and when I pointed to my back he said "Sure, as long as it's not too wet" and of course, it wasn't, and he patted my back and was like "Nah, it's good" and as he was signing it he said "I'm gonna draw a heart, because I love you" and my heart fluttered and then right after he was like "Give me a hug" and I FUCKING HUGGED MC CHRIS AAAAAAAAAAH!  Talk about THE FUCKING COOLEST SHIT OF MY LIFE!!!!!!

Ooh, more sass

My Earrings I wore for the show, a shitty picture, because it's backwards

The man himself

Another picture of my husband/idol

The earrings I wore.  I chose the ones that said "Juicy" because not only is that the title of one of my favorite Biggie songs, but they are also bad ass, and Juicy is a great word.  Thank you, Beauty World (greatest store ever, P.S.)

The chain I wore to the show (also from Beauty World)  MC Chris said he liked it.  Eee!

A legit picture of my earrings

Anna being cute before the show

Strawberries!  Yummm

A pre show picture

She's so fierce

Rocking out!

How can you not love a face like that?  AAAAUGH, I had no idea I had such a crush on him until I saw him live....why didn't I get him to sign the front of my shirt.....

Basically, we went all the way around to the left side of the stage, and then I shoved my way up and I was in the front the whole time.  I could have reached out, and touched him.  I nearly did, but it's cool, cause we hugged after the show.  He forgot the lyrics for some songs, and just started them over, like a champ.  Also, he got everyone to different dances for songs, and had us sing, and he did stand up inbetween some of his songs.

  I didn't bring my camera to the concert, I find those things are best left at home.  However, the wonderful Anna at vintageveggie took lots of fantastic pictures.  Check them out.  Really, just check out her blog in general, it's awesome.

SET LIST @ MC CHRIS

MC Chris Owns

Blizzard

Geek

White Kids Love Hip Hop

The Tussin

Tractor Beam

Wiid

Robot Dog

Cookie Breath

Nrrd Grrl

Pizza Butt

Hoodie Ninja

MC Chris Is Dead

On*

Fett's Vette

IG88

They went roughly in that order.  I might have forgotten a couple songs, but I think that's all of them.  If you haven't heard one of them, or you don't know who MC Chris is, look this shit up.  Nerdcore hip hop is so excellent, and MC Chris is really the greatest.  Some of my favorites that he didn't do? Balastic, Evergreen, Hijack, Fucking Up My Christmas, & I Want Candy.

MC Chris kind of represents my dream career.  He raps, and does stand up, and is a fucking bad ass.  I want to be him, I want to love on him, I want him to be my best friend and my boyfriend and my mentor and my everything.  He's just that good.  I want to do what he does for a living.  He is as real as it gets.  And this is only making me realize that I am a fangirl to the max.

All in all, the show was AMAZING and I couldn't be more glad about going, unless I had gotten him sign the front of my shirt, and then made out with him.  Cause that would have been even more the shit.

"MC Chris owns!  I Wanna go to an MC Chris Show!  But he doesn't tour so in the meantime, I'm gonna memorize all of his rhymes!"

Character Through Setting 2/3/09

This is the freewrite that is inspiring a current short story I'm working on.  The prompt was to describe a character's room from the point of view of another

 character.  We were given a series of choices for the person we were describing: a blind person, a convict, as well as many others.  I chose a senior on the verge of failing.  As soon as I get a solid draft of the whole thing I'm working on with these two characters, I'll put it up.

    Devin's room was as disorganized as his backpack, but this madness seemed to have method.  His bedcovers laid unrumpled, so I assumed his mom stopped caring about his room once she found about his grades.  A copy of Four G's magazine laid open on his bed.  Graffitti, Guns, Girls, and Ganja

That right there was the only magazine he needed.  His walls were covered in his own stencils he had made, the magazine clippings he intended to put up were strewn across the floor.  All his laundry, clean and dirty laid in the far left corner of his room, right next to the shelf with all the spray paint cans. 

Now that I had thought of it, he always did smell a little like spray paint.  On the ceiling was his latest piece, his personal rendition of the Sistine chapel with God passing Adam a blunt.  I realized that this must be what he did instead of school work.  There was a tiny bookshelf in this huge room of his.  Only a few books were on it.  On the Road, Party Monster, and The Kool-Aid Acid Test amongst many graphic novels.  I suggested some Ginseburg and explained that if he liked Kerouac he'd like him too.

            "Books are your thing, baby.  I'm just an artist." He'd always say.  In the middle of the floor, all of his sketchbooks were sitting there.  I grabbed one and flipped through it.  The park and his boys skating, tagging, smoking, and whatever filled nearly every page.  I flipped through every page of each book.  I found one of me.  It was just my face, big and smiling.

            I put my feet up on his skateboard and rolled it back and forth, flipping through all of his art while I waited for him to come back.

Fiction Is Fun. More so than I thought possible.

So we're doing short stories in writing through lit.  I've been wanting to post one up here, but I've been to nervous.  My first one will be back from Mrs. Van Dis soon, with her lovely critiques, and I will post that one up ASAP.  This is just a little something I've started, and has a nice little end place.  DO take note that THIS STORY IS NOT FINISHED.  (I was going to put a picture but it's taking too long and it's late and maybe I will put one when it's not time for me to study for AP Euro.)

Enjoy!

"Stupid fucking broken elevator.  Like they couldn't afford to fix it.  It's the upper east side for Christ's sake…" Bianca muttered to herself as she hiked up ten flights of stairs in her Jimmy Choo's, up to her mother's flat.

            "Dear heart!  Welcome, Mommy's so glad to see you!"  Margaret nearly yelled as she hugged her daughter.

            "Mom, I'm eighteen now, remember?  You don't have to talk to me like I'm five."  Bianca replied, icily receiving the hug.

            "Oh, God, you're right.  I'm sorry.  I'll be better." Her mother gushed as she pulled away leaving one hand on Bianca's shoulder.  Bianca noticed that the other hand was gripping tightly on a Cosmopolitan.

            "Wowee, mom.  Cosmos?  Well, it's five o'clock somewhere, right?" She said, as she took off her coat.

            "Darling, you know the rules.  Post noon is appropriate for drinking.  And I know it's past noon, now.  Besides, Mimosas and Bloody Mary's are pre-noon drinks.  Those two only though!"  Margaret retorted a little too loudly.

            "Well, how about I get you something to sip on?  What would you like, honey?"

            "Get me a Cuba Libre, and we'll be free of my criticism." Bianca mused.

            "Coming right up.  Sy!"

            Bianca's heart stopped.  She had completely forgotten about her mother's newest boyfriend.    Margaret's slurred yells could be heard from the kitchen as Sy entered the room.

"A Cuba Libre para ti, chicana." He coyly smiled.  Bianca's face was swept with a big goofy grin and reddened cheeks.  She loved the way he spoke, every word filled with perfected confidence, never trailing into arrogance.

            "How's life after graduation?  Do you know what you want to do yet?"

            "She hasn't got a fucking clue what she wants to do with her life, Darling."  Margaret declared, teetering back in, standing between them, her back to Bianca.

            “But she does know that she wants to dick around for a year to figure it out.  And with MY money for her rent!"  Margaret explained all of this with hand quotes, letting the thick, cruel phrases drop out of her mouth.  Bianca's eye met Sy's.  He mouthed 'I'm sorry'.  Margaret wrapped herself around Sy, biting his ear and growling "seductively".  In the trashed sort of way that tells everyone else what a sad person you are. With her blood near boiling point, Bianca forced her mouth to stay shut as she fought the urge to start a catfight.

            "Hon, we've had a big day, you seem tired.  Do you want to go take a nap?  Don't forget the company ball tonight." Sy cooed, pulling her off him.

            "Oh God," she rolled her eyes, "That thing.  Well, a nap does sound nice right now…" Margaret continued to mutter to herself as she stumbled into her bedroom.  There was a long pause.  Had Bianca not been so angry at her mother, she would have been paying attention to how Sy had olive undertones in his skin, and that his eyes were dark green, and played off of his rich brown hair.  Instead, she gulped down, and felt the rum and lime juice warm her stomach.

            "Sorry about her.  The week's been really big so she's been…. uh, really letting loose today." Sy quietly said, scratching his head and walking towards Bianca.

            "I mean, I lived with her for nearly eighteen years.  The only partying she does is the hard kind.  I'm used to it." She coldly replied, staring into her near empty drink.

            "Well, what are you thinking about doing in the future?"

"I mean, when I was living with Margaret, we always had a chef, but whenever I stayed with Dad, he'd always cook.  I always helped out, but I never learned anything.  I've been looking at cooking schools, but I don't want to go in without any experience, so I'm looking at some informal cooking classes, just to get a feel for it."  Bianca looked up, seeing Sy staring and grinning.

            "Bianca, did Margaret never tell you that I'm a chef?  I can give you lessons if you want." And with a single flash of those million dollar teeth, Bianca’s head was reeling into the realm of possibility.  Her and Sy.  Alone.  All six feet and four inches of the Amazon God.  Her insecurities made her doubt her ability to attract him, but her raw determinate desire made her decide that seducing him was a must.  “What better way to his pants than through his stomach?” She thought to herself.  She stared straight into the forest green eyes of his.

            “I think that’s a great idea.  When can we get started?"