sushi & strolls.

i have made a bougie habit of strolling campus while eating a quick bite of sushi. unlike sandwiches or salads, sushi can be converted into a finger food. today, i got an amazing voicemail from annie. she said, "walking while eating sushi & thought of you."

fat fatty.

i promise to fatten
my baby in my own image.

taken from the bathroom stall mall of a cambridge mcdonald's, this phrase struck me immediately. it was written in bold letters--probably by a sharpie pen--above a changing table. far more creative than your average "lisa was here '02" or "sylvia loves danny," i couldn't help but see the politics and dark humor of it all---the mcdonalds, the changing table, the two were working in tandem to make a quasi-statement about poor child rearing. think on it.

harvard-yale tailgate.

to take a look at my photos from the weekend, click here. the question is: why is my tongue either out or down the throat of my fellow tailgaters?

devin & shawna.

this photo epitomizes my harvard-yale experience. this is devin, an amazing freshmen. i've found my match. as i bent down to simulate oral sex, devin made the perfect face. it makes the photo. obviously, we're thinking on the same wavelength. thank you to my roomate's boyfriend for taking this and tolerating our foolishness.

13 conversations.

i am watching 13 conversations about 1 thing. i am stopping, now, to say that an exterior shot featured my favorite chinese restaurant of all time--tommy's asian gourmet on 6th avenue in nyc. i am entertained by the fact that the restaurant is called tommy's which is in no way an asian name. simply, i'm attached to this restaurant because of this hard noodle dish i had about 2 years ago.

i love my mother.

yesterday morning, i was at home listening to juelz santana's there it go (the whistle song). my mom asked in all earnestness, "who is that? dipset?" my jaw dropped, i was stunned. i know, for sure, i have the coolest mother in creation.

my mother is cool in more ways than one. following the harvard-yale tailgate she tolerated my drunk ass. on saturday, during the tailgate, i consumed NO substantative food--just punch and southern comfort. damn, i had a good time--pictures are soon to come.

my original plan was to have my mother pick me up from yale so that i could stay at home on saturday night. i get into the car by brandford college on broadway in new haven. not more than 2 minutes pass and i begin vomitting all over myself in the car. i yell out, "fuck, i'm sorry mommy." she says nothing. i ask her to pull over. she does. i ask if we can stop at a gas station to clean up. she says, "you can make it." i put my hood up and passeded out for 20 minutes. before i knew it, we were in my driveway. i got out of the car, ran to the washing machine, stripped naked in front of it, and passed over for the next 5 hours.

at 11 pm, i asked my mom for a subway sandwich. she preceeded to drive downtown and get one for me. she also washed all of my soiled clothes.

the next morning, she asked, "why did you throw up?" i responded, "because i consumed nothing but hard alcohol. but, i had a good time."

my mom responds, "oh."

i love my mom.

modernism as elevator music?

this is sad to hear. one village voice reviewer says that the MOMA as turned into an thematic bore since its reopening one year ago. check out the article. next time i'm in nyc, i'll have to see for myself.

i adore modern art. hence the screenname, fridaholic. no, not alcoholic on fridays (i mean yes, but...) but crazy (excuse my cheesiness) for frida kahlo.

confessions on a dance floor.

bought madonna's album released today entitled confessions on a dancefloor. expect a review soon...

fashion & material culture.

a few weeks back, i attended a runway show by a harvard student designer, creator of the lewis albert fashion line. i was impressed by the clothing. he employs bold natural colors--think emeralds, rubies, and jaspers--with feminine cuts.

i opened my inbox this morning to discover a dailycandy email featuring lewis albert designs. my world always seems to come full circle.

here is my favorite design from the show. the trim of the dress is pink, the dress sapphire. this, to me, is the most stunning piece from the show. i love the simple lines and vibrant shades.

the colored museum, a debrief.

this academic year, i have both the pleasure and stress of leading a student group—blackc.a.s.t (black community and student theatre). we made it our express goal to do big things including moving our annual fall production into a large scale theatre. this fall, we were in the agassiz theatre in the radcliffe yard performing the colored museum by george c. wolfe. the play is sharp, witty, and important much in the vein of spike lee's do the right thing. my avid readers no that lee is one of my favorite social commentators. from caricatures of coke-snorting black bankers on wall street to josephine baker to bible-thumbing matrons, this film says something about the representation of black people in America.

what makes this play different from so many of the others at harvard is that there was not an easy rise and fall in the action. torn lovers did not fall in love come act III. a hapless son did not avenge the death of his father.

not to sound cheesy or hopelessly uncool, but i had an amazing time working with an incredible cast of characters. relational dynamics change when everyone is a performer, a natural-born star. plus, let it be known, i love black people. theatre kids most often spend rehearsal time quoting classical musical theatre. but with black people, trade classic julie andrews for the likes of motown, old school tevin campbell (if you do not know, ask somebody), and early 90s r&b.

this was a beautiful experience. thank you to all involved.

fuck decency.

we attach ourselves to certain words, phrases, or ideas in order to think we’re smart, or “deep,” or distingustingly profound. the truth is, we’re not. rather, there exist a few people in this world who think—really think—about issues at hand. examples:

regardless (or, “irregardless)
contradiction
dichotomy (if you are apart of the academy)

…and the bane of my existence—inappropriate. this word is overused and thus devoid of all meaning. what, may i ask, does it mean to be inappropriate? as an aside—but equally as ridiculous—what does it mean to be nice?

we all believe ourselves to have a sense of what it means to be inappropriate. pubic hair—inappropriate. same-sex loving—inappropriate. ample cleavage—inappropriate. guns—a bit more questionable.

here you have it—a twisted americentric sense of what suits common standards of decency. i don’t answer questions, i just raise them.

under pressure.

the colored museum.

i'm an hour late for call time. but, please believe, the show will be amazing. look for photos soon of the cast--an unbeatable collection of characters.

luck & happenstance.

i found $10 on my way to work today. and, so goes the meaning of life.

youth riot in paris.

riots have escalated in suburban paris over the last couple of days. check out the article. the article, unfortunately, is unclear as to the source of the riots. it did, however, mention that 2 parisian youth were electrocuted by power lines trying to escape the police.

this article exemplifies exactly what happens when different aspects of my life come together. this summer i watched a documentary called paris is burning about black and hispanic gay men in nyc during the late 1980s who popularized "voguing." yes, that same voguing that madonna wrote a song about in '90. since then, i have playfully had an away message that simply read "paris is burning"--short, sweet, and indicative of nothing. and now, it seems, suburban paris is burning.

the irony is thick, right?