I encourage you to read all three parts of this post. If you’re a man, if you’re judgemental, if you’re happy and you know it, if you’re head-strong, if you’re a Christian who takes seriously the commandment to guard your ears and eyes from evil, if you’re a lady trying to dress like a lady, if you drive between New York and New Jersey…then read this.
What I Learned From Jay-Z and Kanye West, Part 1.
Brother’s visits from out-of-town are always welcome, so long as his friend doesn’t vomit in my sink again…Jason, or Brother as I lovingly call him, is actually my roommate Amber’s brother. After waking up from his slumber on the couch, the sibling duo dressed for brunch and headed out on Saturday. Brandon, my boyfriend, reclaimed his spot on the couch once Brother left in preparation for football, and then lay there looking defeated from hunger. In between heaves and sighs Brandon asked me a few questions about my roommate’s family. I answered him as best I could, and then volunteered that Brother likes to date small Hispanic women. Spanish mamacitas. “That’s what’s up,” Brandon said. It was obvious that he liked/supported Brother’s decision to date tiny Latin women with heavy curves. And it irritated me just enough to try and irritate him back. I targeted Brandon’s weight, a sensitive subject for a muscular man who’s naturally thin.
“Oh yeah? Well…well BIG men with big penises are what’s up. THAT’S what’s up.”
I don’t mean that. I really don’t. I’m not even having sex, and I prefer to pretend all men have plastic Barbie parts until they’re married. I’m actually a little ashamed I said it. But I’m not dating a man who’s easily stirred up by such words, or insecure. He kept looking right at the tv and he said, “Well I’ve got one out of two”.
Stumped yet again.
Lesson 1: “Big Pimpin'” means something entirely different these days.
I feel like I lived a week within a weekend. Even with a cancelled tutoring session– and speaking of tutoring, I just got even more full by adding a set of super sweet twins to the list– the weekend was packed with action. Or maybe it wasn’t, but every single thing I did just about drained me. So maybe that’s why I went back to sleep for a couple of hours prior to our concert on Sunday. I felt comfortable whittling my dress time down to less than an hour because I had already decided what I was going to wear. I figured I’d wake up in time, and just throw on the same outfit I wore to Brandon’s birthday dinner.
5:26pm– The sun has officially gone down. Red Bull can is half-empty, and I’m now motivated to get moving.
“What are you wearing?”, I asked Amber. I’ve teased her about dressing inappropriately so many times, and couldn’t wait to give her a hard time about whatever short skirt she was going to wear. But to my surprise she said, “NO. I’m dressing like a lady.” I turned the corner into her room and there she stood in the prettiest long pink skirt. She looked too nice to be going to a concert. I instantly felt ugly even though I wasn’t even dressed. And right on cue Brother piped up from the kitchen and said, “This concert is for the Black elite.”
Lesson 2: Black people are back. We are back! Go ‘head Obama, dust ‘ya shoulders off for 2012.
My heart rate went up, and I went flying into my room to find the coolest Black-est elite-est outfit I owned. I came up with very little, but chose a grey dress with Michael Jackson detailing on the shoulders. Who’s bad?
But Brandon cam into my room, telling me how I needed to wear the original outfit I’d announced earlier. We always help each other coordinate, but this was a bit much. I didn’t want to wear jeans and a shirt any more, I wanted to be part of the Black elite! I thought he was kidding at first, but his tone was so serious. I went back and forth with him, Amber jumping in to take sides with me a few times, and then finally she gave up. I was already feeling like the odd person out, and he was only making it worse by telling me to switch my clothes. By the time he realized I was genuinely upset by his comments, it was too late. He apologized and started insisting that he liked the dress, which was clearly a lie. If he liked it, he would have left it alone from the start.
I was close to not going by this point, but I shut my mouth and put on purple eyeshadow while sulking. My mood had been temporarily ruined, but I was determined to have fun anyway. Sort of. I managed to get crazy glue all over my fingers right before Amber announced that her friend was downstairs to pick us up. I hopped into the car, and held Brandon’s hand with rough, coarse glue-y fingers the whole way there.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Written to: Sade “No Ordinary Love”, XScape “Who Can I Turn To”, Kanye West “Runaway” (edited version)