a return to the world.

things are right again--i'm back connected to the real world with a 15 inch powerbook. i've very happy. now, it's time to learn how to use this thing.

nyc and back.

somewhere during my travels to nyc, my laptop was stolen. currently, i am in the market for a new computer--i'm shopping around, comparing capabilities, etc. between backed up music files, external hardrives, and my friends, i'll be piecing my music collection back together.

my consulation is that my computer wouldn't start on friday morning. the screen read, "cannot find operating system." a strange state of calm washed over me.

i'm thinking about getting the 12 inch powerbook. we'll see. by the weekend, i'll be typing on a new computer.

good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere.

last night, precious paid me the best compliment. i made some lewd or lascivious comment to which precious replied, "my mother would be so mad that i hang out with you."

thank you, presh.

davis, coltrane, & badu.

thanks to itunes shuffle, i discovered today that the live version of erykah badu's rimshot (intro) samples davis and coltrane's duet of so what.

anonymous poetics.

phd in mathematics and then some

i'd set out to study mathematics and wound up with a phd
studying your eyes sitting across from me
two hazelnuts disks playing hide and seek with mine, mine seeking yours hiding

you'd said you'd call, but didn't
but it wasn't this that bothered me
or your once readable eyes now transformed into the illegible

it was the nonchalant way you'd mumbled "it slipped my mind" which really meant i'd slipped your mind and this bothers me because you're always on my mind

well, you were always on my mind

this poem was written by a friend who choose to remain anonymous.

music, music, music.

check out my friend max's website. he's a trumpeter from berklee. be sure to check back for updates & read my thoughts on his amazing performances.

i'm an extraordinary machine.

fiona apple is coming to the orpheum on 12/7. i'm a major fan. i might go.

jason mraz @ the orpheum theatre.

last night, i accompanied precious to her first concert--jason mraz live at the orpheum theatre. i also saw jason mraz perform in the fall of 2003 at brandeis. he opened for the roots before a largely hip hop crowd. my review of last night's show cannot help but be framed in terms of his brandeis performance.

after brandeis, i walked away thinking 2 things 1) jason mraz can blow and 2) jason mraz is a stellar performer. he employed innovation and commanded an audience of largely hip hop fans. mraz is a classically trained opera singer & employs vocal tricks that captivate & speak to his talent. for example, in one section, he orgasmed in operatic notes. googly eyed freshmen in the front row could not help but wish that they, in that moment, had the pleasure of fellating him. he engaged the crowd of about 1000 by telling stories and throwing flirtatious winks.

last night, the originality was lost. the crowd was littered with young girls wearing mraz emblazoned baby Ts. like many popular artists, mraz did not have to earn the respect of the crowd. rather, young girls screamed for him unabashedly. he performed hits in a predictable sequence never daring to alter the arrangement or even cover the music of artists he admires. he is smart, though. his audience could never have appreciated a gaye or cash sample. he did, however, sing a verse in french. he was playful, but not powerful. i wish for his sake that he finds a musical home that allows him to be creative.

au bon pain.

a few nights ago, i made a late night trip with annie and rachel to au bon pain for a late night "baguette"--annie's words, not mine. sitting at a table with rachel, a middle-aged likely autistic man approached me. he told me i was beautiful. he spoke in a eerily deliberate manner making sure to emphasize every sound & syllable. he wore sneakers with velcro straps & large coke bottle glasses. i handle odd encounters in stride often smiling and scurring away. this man, however, had me cornered. i was sitting, he was standing leaning towards me agressively. he told me i looked like i was from "the islands." he asked if i was a harvard student. then, he got bold. he asked for my phone number of email address. i slipped out of my chair & he called in the distance, "are you a women's libber?"

liquor & art, ebony & ivory.

they shoot the white girl first.

i was not in the market for a job, but i happened upon a posting for a literature research assistant. the project involves an in-depth analysis of toni morrison's beloved. beloved, though, is not my favorite morrison novel--the bluest eye is. paradise is the most provocative and is the home of my favorite morrison line--"they shoot the white girl first. with the rest they take their time."

i met with this visiting dubois fellow, a slender french woman named claudine, who smells of body order and perfume. she speaks in a french-english blend and often reaches for words when speaking to me. she needs assistance as she is unable to navigate harvard, google, or her old desktop.

in short, she hired me. we clicked. she told me of her two daughters named cecil and clementine, her birthplace in the south of france, and about the fast train in france.

i'm drawn to academic work & black lit. her work is something that i could see myself pursuing if i decide that scholarly text and research will be apart of my future. she's meets yearly with toni morrison at a conference in paris. claudine has informed me that morrison's sula will be apart of the national french secondary school curriculum.