I FORGOT TO MENTION...

THAT YOU SHOULD FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER @LONEBOHO...

THAT'S ALL FOR NOW FOLKS, ALTHOUGH I FEEL A BIT OF BLOG COMIN' ON...

STOP and FRISK-Why I'm All For It!

Enough is Enough! I'm a Black woman living in New York City and I'm tired of reading the same sad news: more unnecessary death attributed to gun violence. Let me also say this: I am proud of the NYPD. Some of them are very good friends of mine and every day they risk life and limb, mostly while you and I are safely locked away in the comforts of our homes, to protect us from those who would seek to do us harm.

Over the weekend there were multiple shootings all over the city most of them in notoriously bad neighborhoods-a few occurred at the Labor Day parade. Ironically, another incident occurred at the parade where a Black city councilman was allegedly roughed up by cops for walking in a frozen zone and one of the staffers punched a police captain in the face.

According to Public Advocate Bill DeBlasio, "...police may have looked at Jumaane, who is young...with dreadlocks, and not believed he is a Council member."

Assemblyman Hakeem Jeffries commented further that the incident was "further evidence of the siege mentality the NYPD has unleashed against black men in New York City."

Siege mentality! Really? Isn't the city "under siege" when residents don't (or can't) leave their homes for fear of catching a stray bullet from the gun of some young, cowardly fools who have nothing better to do with their lives but destroy others? These cowards are the first to run after their "tough deed" rather than take onus for their crime, like a true "bad man" would do. Yes, these are the same morons who, should they ever get stopped by police, or eventually caught and arrested-blame the system, blame racism, or their most likely target; the NYPD. They blame everyone but themselves.

Jeffries' statement is ironic. Sadly, if it wasn't for those "bad apples," (like the criminals who showed up at the parade with their illegal guns, or perhaps someone who would punch a police captain in the face) who ruin it for law-abiding citizens like myself, or law-makers like Jumaane Williams some of us wouldn't have to worry about being stopped and frisked at all because we wouldn't fit the profile.

Enough is enough. Racism is the disease yes, but there are certainly other symptoms. When do we address those?

Where do these shootings occur? Hardly on the Upper West or Upper East Side! There is a serious crisis in poor, Black and Latino communities with drugs, guns and gangs.

I accept the controversy this issue raises but I'm fine with that because I'm sick of opening the paper to find another gun related death or where the victim and the perpetrator are Black-usually from the same neighborhood. It adds insult to injury when you happen to belong to the race of the alleged perpetrators as if there weren't enough things a young Black woman has to worry about.

Let the NYPD continue to stop and frisk-if you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear. Do not misunderstand me: I'm not saying there isn’t a racist cop out there who can and will abuse his or her power-but unfortunately that’s another case of those "bad apples." I suffer with the bad apples syndrome as well and it's exhausting to keep trying to prove your one of the "good ones."

So maybe one of those talking heads decrying the Stop and Frisk system can explain to me how a policy in place to prevent crime is to blame for what is actually going on in the streets among young Blacks and Latinos today? How can the NYPD stop crime in high crime areas where the very population they are trying to protect also happens to be the community of the perpetrators? Why do we blame racism for this fact: more "brothers" shoot "brothers" than any other race?

I conclude with this: I have the right to take a walk, sit on my stoop, jump up at a Labor Day parade in New York City without risking my life, but I won’t until there is an end to all of this gun violence.

Charm City Circulatin Correction...

My beloved has informed me that I made two critical errors: 1) Whenever we are in Baltimore it rains frequently...I cannot say that it rains ALL THE TIME...

2) Charm City Circulator has more than two routes. We only experienced two...

Happy now?????

Anyway...as much as I hate criticism from my boo-he was right and so I owe him a debt of gratitude. Also, he's given me an opportunity to post some pics...

Charm City Circulatin'

Charm City, aka Baltimore, Maryland. My boyfriend and I decided to take this trip because we had been here before on a day trip and we were impressed by the charm of the inner harbor. Also, I didn’t get any crab when I was there the first time so I had to come back. It would also be an awesome place to take an inexpensive vacation. It was nice not having to leave the country and we certainly learned a lot about Baltimore’s place in American history. Come back with me as I re-visit Baltimore, Maryland: famous for much more than dungeoness and back fin crab. It is the birthplace of popular shows like Homicide, Life on the Streets (We actually visited the location of the precinct and the Waterfront Bar in Fells Point that Detectives Munch and Bayliss bought) and the Wire (we were advised against taking pictures and field trips to that part of town) and it is the birth place of such jazz/ragtime legends as Eubie Blake and Billie Holiday. This charming sea-board city definitely deserves its moniker.

A short cab ride from downtown Penn station to our hotel-the Mount Vernon Hotel and Café, conveniently located in the Mount Vernon section of Baltimore, a bit north of downtown Baltimore. We felt special to be staying in this National Historic District, especially since the area was featured in an episode of the re-runs of Homicide, Life on the Streets. (A sniper shooting occurred right in front of the Walters Art Museum, where Ray and I passed every day on one of our walks down to the harbor!) Ok. That’s the last time I mention Homicide: Life on the Streets.

So we’re walking along Charles Street, and we’re hungry so we stop into Mick O’Shea’s, an Irish pub style restaurant to whet our whistles. I had my mind set on a burger and some fries-that’s what I was in the mood for. Our waitress comes over and just as I was about to open my mouth to tell her that I needn’t look at the menu-I knew what I wanted she asked, “do you want to hear our specials?”
“Sure…”
She listed a bunch of tasty items, chief among them: mussels-actually the swordfish sounded pretty good too but-once I heard mussels, I heard nothing more. That was going to be it for me, especially since seafood is a Maryland staple.

I also ordered a Guinness, which was poured to perfection. She poured off the first bit, and then let it sit for a while before she brought it to me. Ahhhh…and then the mussels arrived (oh yeah, Ray ordered a bacon cheeseburger, I think. He said he really enjoyed it.) and I was in heaven. The bread was crusty and crispy, with a slight cheesiness to it. It was perfect for dipping into the mussel sauce, which was a tomato/white wine concoction. Usually I don’t fancy tomato based sauces, but this was just light enough and with the cheesy crusty bread it worked! Delicious.

On to the next stop…we walked down Charles Street down to the Inner Harbor. This is the reason we were in Baltimore. When Ray and I initially visited, we went to the Baltimore visitor center which is located in the harbor, gathering information about the city and what we were going to do, and we fell in love with the harbor. We took the 10 dollar all day water taxi back and forth between Fells Point and the various points of interest in the harbor until it was time to go home. We vowed to come back when we had more time to spend and here we were. One place we didn’t get a chance to visit along the route was Fort McHenry-the place where the Star Spangled Banner was written.



Fort McHenry
I will never forget what I felt as I looked out over Baltimore Harbor, imagining what Francis Scott Key saw, which moved him to write these infamous words: “O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave o’er the land of the free and the home of the brave…”,he was a witness to the miracle that is the United States of America. This tiny nation only in it’s infancy that defeated the all powerful Britain and her imposing navy. It was a quite moving experience to walk around Fort McHenry, and to see what the flag and the anthem has meant to generations of Americans.

The picture of the 1968 summer Olympics held in Mexico City, where black athletes Tommie Smith and John Carlos raised their fists in the black power salute and Australian Peter Norman wore a civil rights badge in support of them, was displayed at the exhibit. The athletes were banned from the games and the Australian was left off the 1972 Olympic team as a result of their disrespect. Many Americans were offended. I was conflicted. Here I am a Black American woman, who loves this country and is proud to be an American trying to reconcile the ugliness of racism and inequality with the fact that Tommie Smith and John Carlos still stood on that podium as champions of the United States of America. To me, their fists symbolized the defiance that allowed us to defeat the British. We will always overcome. As one of the exhibits mentioned, the American flag is all things to all Americans. This could be seen when every American at the Fort, Black, brown, white, Asian, man, woman and child took their hats off, placed their hands over their hearts and bowed their heads (some sang) in reverence to our National Anthem. I was truly moved to tears.

Ray did his part for his country by assisting the Rangers and other visitors load canons in preparation for the British in a reenactment of the battle of Fort McHenry.

Now, we were exhausted, it was hot as hell out there on the battlefield! Time to head back to Fells Point and grab some ice-cream and a milk-shake at Maggie Moo’s. They really take pride in preparing your ice-cream. I ordered a Cheesecake break; vanilla ice cream with strawberries, and teddy grahams. The lovely lady preparing my cone asked me if I wanted two or three scoops. “Just one please!”
She handed me a tub of the best ice-cream I’ve ever tasted, carefully smoothed out with some sort of ice-cream smoothing contraption, (she really put her all into it) which enabled the strawberries and grahams to be mixed in perfect proportions. By the time she finished with the ice-cream, it was way larger than two scoops. She had to put the ice cream in a tub, with the waffle cone stuck on top. I certainly was not mad at that! Ray got a vanilla milkshake with little chocolate bits in it-not chocolate chips, little chocolate bits. Pure bliss. Yes, we were quite content, he and I, and we sat in the square and listened to live entertainment (some dude with an electric guitar and am amp, banging out oldies) We sat there until the darkening clouds told us that perhaps we’d better get a move-on. We took the water taxi back to the inner harbor and caught the Charm City Circulator (a free shuttle (yes free!!!!) that connects downtown Baltimore with East and West, North and South. There are two routes: purple and orange. The purple runs North to South and brings us back to our hotel. The orange travels East and West, which brings me to a convenient little segue:

It rains frequently in Baltimore, it’s annoying but it stops after a while and then out comes the brilliant, blazing sun and you would never know it had rained. We expected this and so we didn't bring our umbrellas thinking we'd be someplace long enough to wait out a shower. Well, my beloved suggested that today of all days, we ride the Orange shuttle, and see where it goes. I was a bit skeptical, having noticed the darkening sky-not to mention I was hungry and I wanted to go back to the hotel and grab some grub.

Long story short: the orange route took us away from our destination (the hotel) and we had to get off. Sure enough, we are hit with a monsoon! Flood warnings are in effect! I have never experienced rain like this; and when I say experienced, I mean it. I was in it, around it, under it, through it and over it. It was a torrential downpour and I nearly drowned. All I can say is Thank God for the cleanliness of downtown Baltimore. When water came gushing out at us, and we couldn’t avoid puddles we weren’t left with grime, debris or sediment in our shoes. Finally we make our way home, dry off and get ready for a night on the town!


PowerPlant Live!

Plain and simple, the place was a bit too noisy for our tastes-maybe if I was 10 years younger it wouldn’t have bothered me, even though it did seem that whatever your pleasure this spot could accommodate There was a comedy club, a few bars, featuring live entertainment and some seemingly decent restaurants. We ordered a couple of drinks-A Long Island Iced-Tea for me, and a Heineken for Ray. His rule of thumb is to always order a beer unless he knows how the drinks are made because you can’t go wrong. He was right. My Long Island Iced-Tea was pretty weak, but hey-we weren’t in Long Island were we? Anyhooo….we finished our drinks and then we bounced! Off to Woody's rum bar aka Slaintes Irish pub in Fells Point. I really wanted to hear live music, particularly jazz but it wasn’t in the cards for me this evening. So we had a couple more watered down drinks (Ray stuck wisely with beer) and then headed across the street for some brick oven pizza.

We stepped out into the balmy night air, and wouldn’t you know it-here was my live entertainment. The sax dude was still out there jamming-and he had an audience too-a young couple winding and grinding to his tunes. Not bad.

So we head over to BOP’s, which according to Kevin Bacon should stand for “Baltimore’s Only Pizza! Perhaps he’s right. Now, I must admit that I haven’t actually tasted any other pizza in Baltimore but- one bite of this chicken feta pizza and it definitely was amore. I’m not the biggest pizza fan but this was the best pizza I’ve ever tasted. Eating our pizza on the pier while watching the waves roll in definitely enhanced the experience. It was bliss. My pizza crust was perfectly thin and crisp,chicken grilled to perfection, with fragrant basil, savory feta and smooth olive oil to round out the flavors. As I took my first bite I swear angels came down and started tap-dancing on my tastebuds! Unfortunately Ray wasn't as impressed with his pepperoni and sausage pizza- I felt for my honey, but why anyone faced with such an assortment of delicious meat, veg, cheese (even seafood!) combinations would choose plain ol’ pepperoni and sausage is beyond me. Oh well, moving right along…to our last day in Baltimore…

Obrycki’s
A little expensive but, in my opinion definitely worth it! I’m glad that I ate at this famed establishment before they close their doors forever this November. What I gathered from our waiter John, was that the place was becoming too expensive to run not only in terms of cost but also manpower. They have some sort of deal where they will be working out of Cheesecake factory or something. Unfortunate. Now. Back to me and my crab experience. I came back to Maryland to redeem the horrible crab experience I had the first time around. I had never eaten a steamed crab before so John was kind enough to show me how. Literally. He said since I was a newbie he’d start me off with two large steamed dungeoness crabs. When they came, he bibbed me up and brought me a mallet. Next, his fingers were all up in my crab breaking off the pieces I shouldn’t eat, showing me where the good lump crab meat was, and how to discard the lungs. Then he showed me the “mustard” of the crab. I could eat it or not. Some people like the taste of it, but a long time ago somebody told me that the “mustard” was crab feces. So…no. I would not be eating it. I was grateful for the lesson, and finally ready to tackle my next crab all on my own. Ray looked on like a proud papa-watching me in all my pounding glory: I wacked and cracked, and shellacked the shiznit out of the shell. I broke the crab open and dug my fingers in like a pro. I got so into it that I began to just bite the legs sucking the succulent Obrycki salt, pepper and butter seasoning off the shell. It was a simply delicate, but seriously savory seasoning. I looked over at Ray, who by now had finished eating his fish and chips and was looking a bit bored and slightly annoyed.
“What?”
He claimed he was looking around the restaurant at people who had ordered way more crabs than I, and they were already finished. He wanted to know why I had to take 2 hours to eat 2 crabs. I looked at the “leavings” of the other customers and noticed that they left more of the crab behind than I did. So there! If it weren’t for the fact that we were the only two people left in the restaurant and the waiters were not “discreetly” packing up and stacking tables all around us, I might still be sitting there sucking the meat out of those tasty crab legs.
Meanwhile…Ray decided to order some dessert to “keep him company.” Much to my chagrin, he ordered my least favorite food item: bread pudding. However when John brought it over to the table and dropped the plate in front of Ray , I was enticed by the scent of brown sugar and cinnamon; also the pudding was sitting on some type of sauce-I think it was a custard. Nevertheless, I had to taste it. Oh my!!!!! There go the angels on my taste-buds again this time they’re breaking! Again, this is the best bread pudding I’ve tasted, and I’ve never been a fan of bread pudding. The cinnamon and sugar gave the bread a sweet crust and the raisins were warm and juicy and they added just the right amount of “tart” to the ensemble. Oh sorry- I’m finally done with my crabs. I must say the whole Obrycki’s was a great experience-what would have been nicer was if our waiter, John had thanked us for his tip. I found that a bit rude….

Ciao to Charm City
A pretty melancholy morning. I did not want to get out of the hotel bed. Solemnly we packed up our things and went down for one last breakfast at the hotel’s café. I don’t even remember what I ate. We came back up to the room, reminisced about the good times, Maggie Moos, and how we would miss the harbor and late night BOP’s. I began to cry…(Just kidding; I didn’t cry.) We headed back down to the lobby with our luggage to check out; the most devastating part of any vacation.

We walked a short block to the shuttle bus. This was the last trip we’d take on the Charm City Circulator and it was taking us back to back to where our beautiful escape had begun. How quickly it seemed to come to an end. Ray and I waited in silence (there was nothing left to say) and when I saw that big white shuttle bus with the big purple swoosh on the side pull up, ready to take us back to reality, I truly did want to cry. We climbed aboard and took our ride to the final stop: Penn Station where we sat and waited for Amtrack train number 84 to take us home…

We know we’ll be back.

*Things I want to mention:
Thanks to the hotel staff at Mount Vernon Hotel and Café. They were very friendly and accommodating.

Places to visit:
Reginald Lewis Museum of Maryland African American History-a must see for anyone who is interested in the Black History of Baltimore. I didn’t realize how much Baltimore has given to us in terms of Black culture, leadership and intellect…

Eubie Blake National Jazz Center and Cultural Institute: It’s also an after-school arts instruction center. One of the leading composers of Ragtime music, his musical Shuffle Along was one of the first Broadway musicals to be written by African Americans. His musical also featured a young chorus girl named Josephine Baker who went on to gain notoriety in France as an acclaimed dancer and singer.

Thanks for everything Baltimore.

Charm City Circulatin'

Charm City Circulatin'

The Debt Ceiling Crisis

s a self-described political junkie, I would be remiss not to comment on the current fiasco concerning the debt ceiling. Lately, politics has become ugly. Debate no longer seem to be about how to repair the serious problems this country faces, but rather a war has turned into a zero sum game.

Enough is enough! We have less than a week now before the country goes into default and I’ve just learned that some grassroots conservative organizations, as well as an influential fiscal conservative group are hell bent on defeating Speaker Boehner’s plan to reduce the nation’s debt.  These are people in his own party!  This behavior is despicable. Let me be clear:  I’m no economist. I am simply an American who loves her country. I am concerned for the welfare of this nation. Is it not alarming to those same people who claim that their “rights” as “Americans” are being trampled on? Do they not see that we are losing our credibility as a democracy around the world? It is infuriating that our nation’s “leaders,” I use the term loosely- seem hell bent on derailing the political process rather than work alongside one another to restore our confidence in it.  I write these words for my own edification about the debt crisis. I pray that the dysfunctional demagogues in Congress, democrats and republicans alike will consider us-the employee, the tax payer, the elderly, the citizen- ultimately we average Americans who will suffer greatly if an agreement is not made.

What I know about the debt ceiling crisis thus far:

The federal government has surpassed the amount of money we can borrow (14.3 billion dollars). If we don’t get our financial house in order by August 3, when the bills are due, we risk going into default. The government is mandated to pay federal salaries, Medicare and social security, tax refunds, as well as the interest it already owes on outstanding debts. If congress can’t get it together and a  deal is not reached as to whether or not we can borrow more money after the August 2^nd deadline, spending will have to be reduced to the amount of revenue that the government already has to avoid more debt.  This could mean suspended investments, or redeeming securities in accounts like Civil Service retirement, which could bring us closer to default. (www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/politics/jan-june11/debtceiling_05-16.html)

The debate over the debt-ceiling is not new. Policy makers have raised the limit in the past. In fact, it’s been raised 74 times. The first time it was enacted was during World War 1 in order to issue bonds.

The Plan

If only there was one! Instead we have partisan bickering and a refusal to compromise.

At the time of writing conservative lawmakers expressed skepticism that Boehner could come up with more cuts. He has just warned his caucus to get their “asses” in line.

His two step plan is a 10 year cap on discretionary spending to save $1.2 trillion over 10 years and to raise the debt limit by 1 trillion an amount that is expected to last until next year. His plan makes spending cuts larger than any debt ceiling increase and would implement spending caps to restrain future spending, thereby advancing the cause of a balanced budget amendment. Reid’s plan would cut $2.2 trillion from the budget $500 billion dollars less than advertised. Also his plan would avoid another debt ceiling argument before 2013, while Boehner’s requires us to revisit the issue again in 2012-with a hike in the ceiling contingent upon tax cuts. (http://www.advisorone.com/2011/07/27/cbo-boehner-reid-debt-plans-fall-short-of-promised)

Obama criticized Boehner’s plan-claiming that it is too short term and could spark the downgrade of US debt. He also said there should be a balanced approach, which forces wealthy Americans to contribute, not a ‘cuts only” approach.

Boehner blasted Obama and Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid’s plan  for engaging in a “spending binge” and pushing tax increases that will destroy jobs,” he claimed it was  a blueprint for a blank check for more uncontrolled spending that would undermine the economy. (cnn.com)

Currently, both plans fall short of savings they both have promised, according to the Congressional Budget Office. Revisions to Boehner’s plan would bring a total of $917 billion in savings over 10 years, an increase of $65 billion over the initial version. With the revisions, Boehner’s proposal which calls for a $900 billion increase in the debt ceiling-now meets his pledge to match any debt ceiling hike with dollar for dollar spending cuts. Senate Democrats said that this plan has no chance of passing the Senate-and the top Republicans have called the Senate Democratic plan a “non-starter.”(http://politicalticker.blogs.cnn.com/2011/07/28/conservative-groups-making-final-push-todefeat Boehner plan.

How Is the Crisis Affecting us now? What about After August 3?

The Daily News has reported that the economy has already started to hurt because of the stalled debt ceiling talks. Investors are wary and stocks are dipping.  A downgrade of the debt-and even worse, a default would likely undermine investors faith in the security of U.S. debt and this would force interest rates to soar even higher, which could hamper an already limping economic recovery. We have already seen the dollar decline.  In Canada, the American dollar is sub par to the Canadian.

http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/2011/07/25/2011-07-(25_stocks_slip_as_debt_ceiling_deal_hangs_in_balance_and_threat_of_us_default_looms.html)

Apart from the governments mandated obligations, the cost of capital will go up, which means most of us (the middle class who will be most affected by the debt plan as it stands right now) will have less purchasing power.  Food prices have already gone up and it will only get worse. It will affect people with mortgages, or car loans. They could get badly hurt. Interest rate increases are a huge concern for people in commercial real-estate. So, in other words it doesn’t look good. And worst case scenario-what if we were to end up like Greece?  Morning Call’s commercial investment guy reported that at three out of every four lunches he attends people are talking about the debt ceiling. I can do him one better. At my job, everyone is talking about it.

The American people don’t want to hear their elected representatives talk about how much they care about this country and want to do the right thing and then do nothing. It’s time for them to put egos and partisan politics aside. It’s time to compromise. Let’s talk about that word for a moment. Compromise has become synonymous with treason in Congress these days. The infuriating aspect of this crisis is this divisiveness in Washington. It seems these days that people go to Congress to look for a fight. They have this macho desire to prove how tough they are. This is not the fist time legislators have disagreed about economic policy-it won’t be the last. What does seem unprecedented though is the deliberate, malicious nature of the debt talks. There seems to be a willingness to derail honest efforts to reach an agreement that will SAVE OUR ECONOMY.

In conclusion, my plea is a simple yet urgent one: Washington-please put politics aside and come up with a balanced-meaning everybody shares the cost-not just wealthy Americans, and not just the middle class. We need a balanced debt plan for the sake of the economic future of this great nation. As for the dysfunction that represents Washington these days, here is a chance to redeem itself-the world is watching.

Now I've done it!

Even though our team didn't make it to the superbowl "again", I would say that poetic justice was achieved when the whole night was a flop, starting with Christina Aguilera's flibber, to the weak-ass ads, (although the one where the guy licks the cheese off the dude's fingers had me rolling.) to the tepid half-time show(why did Fergie feel the need to rub herself all over my man like that-sooooo inapropriate! Say what you will about Axle Rose, but she DID NOT do him justice.)  And THANK THE GOOD LORD I  MISSED THE DAMN KARDASHIAN COMMERCIAL. Yes, God is GOOD!
Anyway...Congrats Green Bay-but this is not the purpose of my return after an unexpected hiatus. It is to let the world know that I have begun tweeting, and also to apologize in advance for the "ahem" inconvenience that this may have caused some of my friends, past and present...who may recognize themselves in one or more of my scribes.

First and foremost: all names, dates and places have been altered to protect the not-so-innocent. If you recognize yourself and are offended, I apologize...but, if you're mad now...whatchu gon' do when the book comes out?

Ha ha!!!! Deucessssssss!!!!

Throwback-Part II

Folks...I apologize in advance for the inconsistency of fonts...

 

Tia’s Pumpkin Party: The Night I learned to Listen

8:00 p.m. Tia and I paint our nails and are sort of watching t.v. waiting for our guests to arrive. We're having a party tonight! Well-she is-there mainly her friends...

At about 8:30 the door bell rings. It’s Kate and Toya. Kate is a friend of  Sam's ( the boyfriend of Tia's friend Tara) and
Toya is Kate’s roommate. Toya is beautiful; thin, brown skinned and large doe-slanted eyes-a gorgeous smile and southern drawl. She’s the walking, talking poster child  for la vie Brooklyn Boheme. She makes me sick immediately. Fine, I’ll admit it- I’m a tad jealous. But in a healthy way-meaning, I’m the expert at repressing those feelings.

Kate is pretty too-laid back and soft spoken.  She has long red hair and huge, green "searching eyes."Very “hippie chick;” very Fort Greene.

We introduce each other; get the pleasantries out of the way-and Kia brings out a bottle of wine. It’s about time.

For the most part, I hate socializing, and tonight I really wasn’t in the mood. At that moment, Angela-’s Tiacousin arrives, with a bottle of rum and watermelon punch.  Now I’m excited, and a little more in the mood to socialize. The guests begin to arrive all at once-exactly one hour after the official start time of 8 p.m.

I suppose as  general party etiquette, if you don’t want to appear overly eager, and you don’t want to miss the food-which is why you probably came in the first place, you should arrive precisely an hour after the official start time. I think it’s a foolproof way to ensure that you’ll be fed, without sitting around starving, trying to be polite waiting around for people to show up so your starving ass can eat. And God knows we’re all starving.  Isn't that the real reason any of us attend these things? 

 Sam and Rich(who is supposedly semi-dating Kate) arrive. Rich is a drummer for a skinhead ska band. He’s about four feet tall, black, stocky and chock full of tattoos. I  met him a couple of times before, hanging out with Sam and his girlfriend Mara. Tia couldn’t stand him, but I could find no fault in him, at least not yet.  Finally, John arrives, the last of Tia’s guests. He’s a musician and another Brooklyn Boho. I overhear him tell my roommate that he’s fasting, and will only be able to drink the home-made ginger-iced tea he brought with him, and whatever other juice she may have  in the house. 

Ever since I’ve known him John’s been fasting. All I know is that he better eat something-he looks like he's going to die. It’s like the flesh is hanging from his bones, and his face is gaunt.
Where his eyes should be are two deep hollow spaces. I wonder how in the hell he thinks that’s healthy. I can’t bear to look at him. 

The guests are settled and I’m feeling nice. I’m tipsy enough to be friendly and sociable. Tia’s retired to the kitchen to put last minute touches on the entrees she has prepared. ( I refuse to take responsibility for any nasty food).

People are talking, the mood is light and fun. I’m getting my drink on because I don’t know how much longer I can take talking. I want to moooove something. But I behave and do the right thing. I try to enter my two cents worth on the political conversation that has taken over the party. 

“I just wish people would vote their conscience”, I say.  I want to talk about who I want to vote for, and why everybody else should too-but I don’t, and the guilt has been eating away at me. What kind of activist am I? How can I have a political career if I can’t voice my opinion without fear? I make myself sick. 

Heads nod all around. We can’t believe the outocome of the election, even though we knew he would win again. I should have voted my conscious. Conservative republicans and the Christian right could actually count on the democratic vote based on so-called liberal-democratic views on abortion, gay marriage, and so forth. I can’t believe how big a role religion played in the campaign.

“I know,” said Kate-the Catholic Church told its members, that it was a sin not to vote for HIM.” Heads shake in disgust and contempt of the new administration. We’re fucked for the next four years, says Rich. He’d been quiet all evening, his mouth didn’t open the entire evening except to put a fork full of food in it.

“What bugs me is this whole democratic/republican bullshit. If you ask me, the candidates are the same, it’s just that one supports big tax-cuts and the other doesn’t. One supports social welfare, the other doesn’t. But they are both rich, sons of bitches that don’t give a damn about you or me.  You know who was a flip flopper-and a stump speecher. I didn’t trust him at all. “

”Yeah,” said Kate-but you know that flip flop thing was created by the right…

“I don’t buy that bull-shit!" I said, a little louder than I wanted to.  "I’m tired of the left blaming the right and the right blaming the left."  You-know-who did did vote for the war:  it doesn’t matter if he thought it was the right thing to do or not. He just has to man up. He voted for it. Who cares what party you belong to? I know he can’t come right out and say he’s for or against gay marriage, but you can’t be on all sides of an issue-especially if you’re running for president. Let’s face it-voters want a president that they can count on. So what if the right introduced it, it’s what helped them win the election. You-know-who-didn’t do enough to defend why he flip- flopped. We knock the right down too much, but I think if other parties-well, the democrats especially-took a page from the republican handbook the democrats may be able to win back the White House. Personally, I want to see labor issues and the plight of the working poor in this country addressed, they never are, except as sound-bites.”

“I agree,” says Kate, nodding her head solemnly. 

As if on cue, Tia came into the living room with a tray of food. I caught Kate staring over at

Rich, in the corner pouring himself a drink. I got up and went to the kitchen to make myself a stiff drink-all that political talk made me thirsty. The democrats had really pissed me off this election. I took a sip of my drink and seriously considered becoming a republican.

“Everybody! Everybody! Tia called, interrupting my reverie. Just a quick word about the food…” The mini conversations emanating from every corner of the living room ceased as Tia took the floor, looking quite pleased with herself.

She walked around the table pointing to each entrée. “This is pumpkin fettucini with mushroom, cheese and…, pumpkin seed salad with olive oil dressing, olive oil and pumpkin topenade and pumpkin soup. Actually, it’s not reeeallly pumpkin soup-it’s butternut squash.”  She giggled and looked around. No one else got the joke.

”You made all this?” Asked Toya, her wide eyes glistening.  I hated her.

“Yeah…”she said, casting glance to the floor, feigning humility. I wanted to slap her.  She knew she loved the attention.

Wows and hmmms and aahhhhs could be heard around the room. I stood in the kitchen and admired her presentation.

Tia’s no joke,” John piped up. He was the first one in line for a plate. It was actually nice to see him eat something. 

 “She cooks for my parties all the time. Tia’s infamous in Fort Greene for her parties and her cooking. You haven’t had a party in a while though, Tia? What’s up?” He asked, shoveling mounds of pumpkin what have you in his plate. He actually had to take two plates.

“Oh…I don’t know, she said. It’s just so much work.”

“But you’re so good at it.”

“Ahhh, thank you, and there’s plenty more so please, don’t be shy folks,-eat!”

And eat they did. 

I cannot tell a lie- the food was superb. One of the best meals she had ever cooked and it was going to be my last with her.

“Hmm….Tia, this butternut squash soup is to die for,” said Kate.

I watched Tia mingle with her guests;  envying her and pitying her at the same time. I envied her for having the guts to do what she did-she really put herself out there.  She would always be successful because she was a giving person, but I pitied her because I knew she did it trying to impress people and meet “real” friends through these parties-The guest list for her parties had changed over the four years I lived with her.  I knew she was trying to meet people that she could relate too and share a closeness with, rather than just having random friends. I realized it because I lived in New York City for four years hoping to find the same thing. I just didn’t try so hard. Perhaps I should have. Time for another drink.

“You’re drinking my favorite beer,” I said to Rich, who was still hovering by the table, sipping a Yeungling.

“Oh, you like Yeungling? We brought a whole bunch. Rich tapped Sam on his shoulder, interrupting his conversation with some poor, drunk chick.

She was having a hard time keeping her head up.  “She wants a Yeungling,” he nodded his head in my direction.

“There in the fridge, help yourself.” Sam said, returning to his conversation. He either didn’t care, or didn’t notice the girl was half asleep. Knowing Sam he didn’t care. He was proving his point and that's all that mattered.

“Thanks," I said. "I’ll get one later. Right now, I want some of the hard stuff”-I poured myself a glass of coconut rum and watermelon punch, and returned to the observatory, my spot in the kitchen where I had the best view in the house.

A few minutes later, Sam  and Angel call me out to the terrace for a smoke. Finally!  Since I lost my job, and had no income, I wasn’t able to afford the luxury. I had been without smoke or drink for months-I didn’t know you couldn’t buy beer with foodstamps, which is why I looked forward to these parties! I had to give up everything, because I could no longer afford it. All I had was my foodstamps. What I couldn’t buy with them, I’d have to do without.  So when Gerrard lit up , and my nostrils caught the aroma of fresh smoke, it was euphoria!  I was happy to be here. My needs were being taken care of. Tia’s friends were my friends.  I decided that I wasn’t ready to leave my apartment.

“Act like this is your house, go out there and entertain people,” Angel whispered in my ear.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked between puffs.

“Act like this is your house, and entertain people,” she repeated, inhaling deeply off her Capri slim.  I was feeling the effects of the smoke and drink so it took me a while to process things, and when I did, I was dramatic about it. She meant that if I wanted to stay, I had to act like I belonged there, instead of hiding in the shadows and letting Tia run the show, like I usually did.  I thought about it, and decided that she may be right-except that Tia really was running the show-it was her party. The one thing Angel did help me realize though was that if I wanted something, I better act like I wanted it. I wanted what I had tonight.  Intelligent debate, smokes , food.

“When Tia told me about your situation  I was so sad.” So she and Angel were talking about me...

“ I hated that bitch Tia roomed with before. Rich handed me another cigarette.  I took a long, deep pull. “Oh… yeah, well…I don’t want to leave, trust me. I’ve tried every avenue available to me-we’ll see what happens…” I was really feelin' the effects now, and I was cold. It was time to go back inside and re-enter the party.

11:00 p.m.

Angel, , Sara and Tia were showing Toya how to belly dance. Tia must have been waiting for us to come back inside because as soon as we came in, she ran into the kitchen, to retrieve the Pumpkin pie and ice cream for dessert. 

Pumpkin Pie and pumpkin ice cream. I didn’t realize the shit would be sooo damn good! I lost myself for a moment devouring it.  At this point, the party had broken off into two groups, with two separate conversations.  On one side of the room, was John, Angel and Toya. On the other, Sam, Sara, Kate and myself.  I couldn’t  participate in either of them,  I had nothing to contribute. And besides, I wanted to dance-not talk. We talked for two hours straight already.

“Everybody,” I shouted, cutting into the conversations, you’re all talking way too much.” I wasn’t trying to be rude-just stating a fact.

“She’s right”, somebody agreed. I think it was Rich, but I don’t remember. It didn’t matter, they continued to talk amongst themselves and I continued to drink.

Rich came and sat beside me. I don’t know if he expected me to start a conversation with him or something, and maybe I had offended him but he claimed he had a private joke to tell, and moved his chair away from mine, and closer to Kate, Sara and Sam. Eventually, he moved to the couch, and I could swear he was giving me dirty looks. But then again, I was drunk, and paranoid. Well, whatever it was, it was rude, and I knew that I wasn’t imagining him acting like an asshole, and after I gave him crackers too. I was offended and horrified. Did my feet smell? Did my breath stink? What did I do? Was it my imagination, or was Rich antagonizing me? I had to ignore him because I already knew his reputation. Besides, Kate was vying for his attention the whole time-weren’t they seeing each other? It didn’t look like it, because Rich hardly paid her any attention. I had been in situations like this before-real and imagined, where some chick gets mad at the dude she’s interested in because he’s paying more attention to me then her. I was really trying to avoid that tonight. Which is why I wore an oversized dress over my tight jeans-nothing form fitting, no titillating cleavage showing. Anyway…as the night progressed and I got drunker I relaxed a little bit, and resumed doing what I do best-judging people.  That Toya chick was really pretty. Did she and John have something going on? Sam  and Sara were trying to compete for control of the room, Sara like myself was just an innocent bystander-and Kate well, I couldn’t tell what was up with Kate. I was sitting in my own world observing-when suddenly John asked Tia a question about the doorbell. We always tell people to ring the middle buzzer when they come over-but I forgot that we have two.

“Oh yeah,” I heard Tia say. “The Raja bell, remember that Renee?” How could I forget?  She installed that bell so that Raja, "my boyfriend"  wouldn’t wake her up when he rang the original bell, which rang in her room.  Raja used to come over early in the morning-I can’t really blame her for being upset, but it wasn’t my fault that the bell only rang in her room. The problem with the
Raja bell was that whenever it rang, it would buzz our next-door neighbors, and whenever their bell rang, it buzzed our bell. There was a lot of annoying bell buzzing going on around the time that the “Raja bell” was installed. We reminisced about all the time he spent in our apartment, and how she hated him so much that when he came over and rang the wrong bell, she would come to her window and tell him to ring the right one, rather then answering the door and letting him in. It was strange to be laughing about it now; I never thought I would. The same went for the next dude-Kory, whom I think she hated even more than Raja. There sure were a lot of memories in that apartment. The rooms were full of us.  I learned a lot about my roommate and myself during our tenure together.Tia was a control freak. None of my friends ever came over, my family stayed away-except for my sister, because they noticed that she controlled the apartment; non-threateningly but matter-of-factly. They saw that she controlled the apartment while I was left to the tiny cupboard that was  my room. Part of that was my fault; I should have acted like I owned the apartment then too-I was paying half the rent, but I realized tonight, that this was not my apartment. I did not own it. It was time to get out into the world and start having my own parties; no talking allowed.

1:00 a.m.

The Questions Game-warning: never play this game while you are drunk. You will have to answer for things that you would never have admitted to if you were sober and in your right mind. What happens is that you ask someone a question, they can’t answer the question-they’re supposed to answer back with a question for you or for someone else. The game was fun for a while until Angel asked John if he wanted to sleep with me, and he simply answered yes.  Thank God alcohol was involved and I pretended not to hear.

It was time for the party to end-people were restless and ready to leave. I was feeling bad for Tia; she was oblivious to the fact that people were bored now. Especially Rich , who already had his coat on and was pacing back and forth by the door, like a dog anxious to go out for a  piss. He was begging Sam to leave with him. Sam was drunk and wanted to stay-he lived on the upper west side and didn’t want to have to take the train home at this hour. He extended the invitation to Rich, and the rest of the gang. Sam was trying to convince Toya that she should stay as well. 

“Let the girl go,” I insisted, with a hint of bitterness in my voice.  “She wants to leave.” And who the hell did Sam think he was-inviting people to stay in our apartment? The look she gave me was a cross between-“thank you,” and what the fuck is your problem? Rich vehemently refused to stay. He actually got nasty about it, shaking his head with disgust when Sam beligerently  told him he wasn’t going anywhere. I handed Toya and Kate their jackets, discreetly pushing them out the door. Yet somehow Sam had convinced Toya to stay long enough for her to recite her butta-fly chocolate pie-sugar- sweet nursery rhyme, which called for audience participation. These goddam Fort Greene boho’s-they just don’t know when to quit. 

This brought back bad memories for me, and I wasn’t in the mood for this wanna be def-poet shit.  Tia gave me a funny look when she realized I wasn’t playing along.  I wasn’t trying to be a bitch; I just didn’t want to play.  Toya was ruining my buzz with this poem-it was wack and it made no sense. Besides, it  brought me back to the first party Tia and I had together. When I fell in love with the other def –jam wanna be poet Raja,  fell in love, and had my heart broken.  The irony of the whole situation was that, she was the kind of woman he would have been attracted to-the kind of woman I wished I was.

When she finished her poem, I clapped for her as loudly as I could to show her that there were no hard feelings, (it might have come across as a little bit obnoxious) and I didn’t hate her stupid, talented and gorgeous guts.   She was definitely talented, but didn’t deserve all the accolades  Sam was giving her. It was like he was doing it on purpose--to get back at me or something.  He had embarrassed me earlier on at the party-making me repeat my own silly rhyme, which was in no way intended to be heard in public by strangers, or  judged, like I was in some kinda def-poetry slam competition.

Tia asked me to check on the pumpkin pie before I went out on the terrace to smoke and I made up a little rhyme about not trusting a girl that’s high (me) to check on the pumpkin pie.  He keeps bugging me to recite it, even though I tell him it’s not worth repeating, it's a stupid drunken diddy, but as is his nature, Sam persisted, and so I recited it. Toya laughs me off, and says to Gerrard in her stupid southern drawl, “Oh, she’s trying to do a spoken word thing,” Sam laughs,  turns to me and says, “Oh…that was really bad.” The whole party laughs. “I know,” I shoot back.  “I’m not a def poet, asshole.”

Rich is as phony as the Luis Vuitton purses that wide hipped  chicks carry on the subway when he gives us the goodbye kiss on the cheek. He’s mad as hell and won’t take it any-more!  He’s the first one stomping out the door. The rest of the entourage follows behind.  Kate mouths,  “I’ll call you” and then starts bragging to Tia about something that Toya does and is really good at. I don’t remember what it is, and I don’t know who cared.  Toya doesn’t needs any more marketing. She’s the last one to leave. She gives me a hug and I practically push her out the door. Party’s over.

The Wrap Up

I’m cleaning up getting ready to unwind. My roomate’s talking about what a great success the party was. This was the first time in the four years I’d lived here that I wanted to slap her. Could she be that self- absorbed? The party was wack-and I was tired having to fake my feelings. I had been doing it for four years, and it was catching up with me.  How could she not see Rich anxious to leave-and didn’t’ she think it was odd that everyone was ready to leave at the same time? That pissed me off. I mean, I understood that people had to go-but it was the way they left that pissed me off.  For her, not me, after all, these were her friends.

We’re all sitting around after the guests left, shooting the shit.  Tia, of course,  was patting herself on the back about what a great success the party was. I knew that she was leading up to something because she kept talking about Toya. And sure enough, here it comes:  

“I feel really intimidated by beautiful women.  Does anyone else feel that way?”

I may be drunk, but I know when I’m being psycho-analyzed. She’s been doing it to me for four years. I was tired of it. I knew she was referring to the way I was acting towards Toya. I took the bait. 

“What do you mean?”

“Oh I don’t know, I mean whenever I see beautiful women, they just look like they have it together, and I think wow-it must be cool to be them.

“I don’t know…I suppose I look at them, and think hey-I’m just as beautiful!” It’s not hard to be beautiful. You should know that, I shot at her. She winced. I knew it was mean, but she deserved it. I really had her thinking I was stupid, all these years allowing her to make judgments about me. I probably should have addressed the issue right then and there, but I didn’t. Instead, I got off the couch and began to clean up the house, which is what I always did.

Tonight would be the last time I cleaned up after her.