I have officially traveled through or to every A train stop. From 207th street in Inwood to somewhere in Rockaway (sober and drunked). I have noticed there are so many different crowds that get on this long-ass train. In the Inwood section you have the gentrifying [white] gays, the brown gays, black gays, the butch, the femme, the working class people that can’t afford like most of us to live in the city and just took a bus to the 207th stop from yonkers and/or the Bronx, and the picturesque gentrifying [white] families sporting their EMS or L.L. Beam initial backpack. At first I thought that prices in Inwood/Washington Heights area would be the same as Brooklyn for the same space I mean Inwood/Washington Heights is practically the Bronx whether you like it or not and I have lived there so I do have a say in this.
On the other side you have Rockaway-Jamaica which is a little more south than where I grew up (closer to the airport-and we all know that airport towns get the worst of it). On this side we observe more Queens-like houses, one, two maybe a three family house and many languages all over. I remember broken English, Central American Spanish, Mexican Spanish (there is a slight difference) Caribbean Spanish (completely different) Haitian Creole, etc…in any case I could not go down a block without hearing more than one language being spoken, I grew up culturally rich (the only kind of rich my mother could ever afford to bequeath).
My current commute on the A train going to work is only about 10 minutes. I get on at Nostrand Ave. and get off at Jay St. to transfer onto the F train. It is usually best to keep your head phones on and create conversations for people while you watch their every movement on the train, their eyes, fingers, *sighs* etc.
These are the two types of internal conversation I observe on the trains to and from work.
Towards Manhattan:
Towards Brooklyn: A lot of the white people (I usually do my errands in midtown so I get on in midtown) get on do not even bother to look for a seat either because they don’t care, feel threatened enough by the brown person unnecessarily lounging and taking up two seats not to ask them to sit properly, or they make this awful face as soon as they walk in as if something smelled but its really nothing. I of course immediately take a seat upon spotting one. I am not a fan of wearing heel-ish shoes (I am sure ladies have it worse) but my feet are killing from walking back-and-forth back and forth. The last kind of white person on the train that I didn’t mention that doesn’t sit is the white person that is really only taking it to Chambers or Canal St. to get some Starbucks on their way home (although those are popping up everywhere now).
Towards Manhattan: This is more pleasant ride. Besides everyone’s eyes rolling because of the delays in the morning or people forcing themselves into the already delayed train. Every is aware of space but no one really minds sharing space in this ride, unlike towards Brooklyn. I feel everyone feels comfortable (or at least looks a lot more comfortable than the other way around). Everyone is doing their own thing. I am on my mp3 player (most people are), the girl next to me is looking at her photo album on her Nokia phone from T-Mobile as the guy leaning on the door’s face lights up as he looks over her shoulder. This sense of community is great. Imagine if this turned (not sure it won’t, but hopefully not) into Williamsburgh….sad sad sad…Then we will know the [white] man has won, a land with no cash checking place, higher rents, another overpriced supermarket replacing the ma’ and pa’ shops and not to mention the more expensive (mostly for the cost of the flatware and decorations they bought at IKEA) restaurants with very little authenticity.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Friday, November 16, 2007
From Jamaica to Bed-Stuy-- Take the F train to the A train
It will take time to get used to the quietness of the neighborhood. In the back of my head silence represents minds thinking (good and bad) but since I am a pessimist I will go with the bad. I grew in Jamaica, Queens (after being born in L.A.), in what some people would consider a ghetto although no one would probably refer to their hometown as a ghetto. There are some similarities obviously between Bed-Stuy and Jamaica. For starters (the superficial) the amount of rappers that come from the areas one area being more culturally influenced (I think [Bed-Stuy]) and my town, corner of Queens rather not so much. Other similarities include the amount of people of color everywhere, on Fulton, (you would find the same on Jamaica Ave.), non-English languages spoken everyday, overpriced groceries from the local chain supermarket, and the roti shops everywhere. I am sure that if I went back to Jamaica (which I haven’t since last year) I would also find an attempt at gentrification with a local “vegetarian” or somewhat fancy store front with poor and hardly authentic Mexican food (because those are the ones the powers that be have chosen to exploit for now). Clearly there is a difference between a burrito and a wrap…wraps lack sazon.
So yes there are definitely similarities that obviously delve deeper into the community, institutional powers and the perpetuation of stereotypes, and generations of people lacking motivation.
Let’s talk about the perpetuation of stereotypes first. The local bodegas, black on black or Latino on Latino or *insert color* on *insert color*-crime, the disgusting but yummy tasting fast-food franchises where unmotivated young people of color work. Now let me explain what I mean by unmotivated young people, first of all I am not placing the blame on the young people, after all everyone goes through this phase, but what I am trying to convey is a lifestyle and reality of some that is cyclical. Employers and CEOs of these franchises do not take the time to teach young folks about work ethic and skills, instead they literally hand them a set of rules/instructions that they MUST follow and obey. Once a young person learns them then they are taught to regurgitate them and not really understand the tasks, nor contest the larger system that puts them in this situation to begin with. Sure a paycheck is a paycheck and that dollar can go a long way, but knowing that you are playing the game WITH and not FOR the big man is much better. Same thing goes for manager type positions within this industry, rather than motivating employees, managers are taught to play MASTER. Slavery is definitely not over nor will it be anytime soon. And so as we grow up in these microcosms we call home, we realize we have everything we “need” and become complacent and tend not to venture out into the rest of the world. Unless you are the kid that everyone hated because s/he got straight A’s (not to brag but much like myself) on the “standard” institutional tests we had to pay to take. So you are a success! To your mom and family but you are also put on this pedestal where you become the why-can’t-you-be-like-him-boy. A very uncomfortable situation I might say where your neighbors (the kids your age) start resenting you for being successful, and start even calling you words like maricon, mama’s boy etc (all words stripping away your masculine identity…and therefore taking away your worth and power in this male dominated society). No wonder it took me a while to figure out these things I was taught NOT to do. Oh and did I mention I grew up in a single-mother household? “Oh no wonder he is that way” said the ignorant neighbors “he needed a fatherly figure”. So I could “turn” straight and be even more successful. I doubt it; I think I am at a point where I am the one that measures my own success.
I can see this whole plot definitely developing in the Bed-Stuy setting. From my experience thus far I would say it would come from a black (be it African American, Caribbean, or African) young man. This neighborhood reminds me of my Jamaica, when I was growing up. I know I am still a transplant (a fairly new transplant) who has to get used to this and at times step aside and not judge (which is human nature in case you weren’t aware) this reality people (including myself) live in. As an outside-insider I am able to see my own childhood realities in this neighborhood, something I was not able to see when I lived back Jamaica. All I was taught to see was the negative energy, or the hate from them and those (some darker and few lighter than me). Those/Them who still live back in Jamaica, with their parents perhaps (actually most likely) and in the same house I used to play hide-and-go-seek in with 4 kids ranging anywhere from 10 to 1 year of age.
All of this add a little crack epidemic, some police brutality, at least 3 churches on every block (because as statistics show wherever there are churches there is crime), some overpriced groceries, dark lit streets, a couple of KFCs, McDs and check cashing places instead of real banks and we have my Jamaica-childhood reality back in Brooklyn. However I do think the brownstones and an overall sense of pride in self for many in Brooklyn adds a twist and a different beauty to things. Let’s see how it goes…It will all take some time.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Best deals at the 25th Hour!
Brooklyn is officially the spot to be now that I am there. Staten Island is in second place and L.A. is at the bottom of the list of course. After being royally screwed out of my last living situation, I guess I finally believe in good things come to those who wait. My baby (KAI) and I are not hopeless nor homeless and its before the 15th of the month! A last minute deal worked itself out in less than 24 hours! Saw the apt with C, loved the huge space in Bed-Stuy agreed, paid, signed and moved. Of course the apartment needs work but even my closet feels bigger than my sad-excuse-for-a-room I used to curl up in. I have met the neighbors, inside and outside the building have appreciated the beautiful brownstones (I wish I lived in) and have already visited a popeye's and a KFC in da' hood.
I don't consider my situation a gentrifying factor at all though, because like I said the place needs work and I am paying cheap rent! All thanks to (what I thought was lost hope) craigslist and my roommate's (and co-parent of my baby) dedication.
It has been three days and its all coming along slow and well.
Beautiful neighborhood, beautiful queer people of color! and a sense of calm at night (despite people's opinion of Bed-Stuy). Something that is lacking and or that I haven't discovered are eateries to have good food, doesn't matter what kind of food but as long as it is good and healthy. All in all I can't complain...20 minutes to work on train...Express stop! 2 blocks from train station. Cheap rent!
Roundtrip Ride: $4.00
Rent per month: <$600.00
A new Brooklyn experience: Priceless.
I don't consider my situation a gentrifying factor at all though, because like I said the place needs work and I am paying cheap rent! All thanks to (what I thought was lost hope) craigslist and my roommate's (and co-parent of my baby) dedication.
It has been three days and its all coming along slow and well.
Beautiful neighborhood, beautiful queer people of color! and a sense of calm at night (despite people's opinion of Bed-Stuy). Something that is lacking and or that I haven't discovered are eateries to have good food, doesn't matter what kind of food but as long as it is good and healthy. All in all I can't complain...20 minutes to work on train...Express stop! 2 blocks from train station. Cheap rent!
Roundtrip Ride: $4.00
Rent per month: <$600.00
A new Brooklyn experience: Priceless.
The Old and Helpless...X marks the spot
The drama of my life. So it's true about friendships and rooming situations. On the other hand if it is a true friendship then all should go well and things should be understood, not assumed and communicated. As many as you know I love to text rather than talk…sometimes I will reject your calls and lie (yes lie) and text you back…"can't talk I am in a meeting" or something of that sort. Anyways my living situation has gone from worse to worser to worsest…mmhmmm just as bad as that was for you English majors.
At this point all other aspects of my life have congealed nicely but my living situation has made me ill (physically and mentally). I feel like I have been cheated and lied to. I placed a deposit (which I hope I will get back) before I moved in and gave my months rent with an expectation that it would be mailed as my portion of the deposit to the management company (which is what usually happens), 6 months later I come to know that the deposit was never sent and that I had been lied to. The money definitely came out of my account (no question about that) but it was placed into my roommates pocket for going out, a trip to the west and maybe some trips to the casino. Whatever or wherever it went, it didn't and hasn't made it to the management company's office (nor will it at this point).
Unemployment definitely sucks and I feel for those who are unemployed and their situation is limited because of skills, education or the institutional part (aka –isms). But if you honestly want to work, you could seek it out and in less than 3 months I am sure you can work at least doing retail if your classist pride doesn't get in the way of course, but hey getting laid off from the get-go probably fucked that up already anyways. And taking a sabbatical by the way is a choice not a forced situation where you have your own resources (and not dependent on other people's deposit) to live.
[--Bathroom Break--]
I am a spoiled child, not rich but was definitely spoiled. My mom tried to give me the best of everything and anything she could. I loved it and still love it when my mom does my laundry the night before I depart from JFK, because its closer and I stay over or when she makes thanksgiving dinner at HOME and takes a cab all the way uptown (from Jamaica, Queens) just to spend time with her independent boy. Being independent is another quality I possess and will continue to possess because I DO have true pride for myself and my achievements over the past years. I.E. just recently, although I had a very stable job (as most of you know) doing marketing for a non profit, I applied my ambition and interviewed for corporate and Voila! I am sitting at my corporate desk on my 5 th day at the job. I ended on great terms, no hard feelings or anything and no burned bridges. That is something to be proud of rather than make-believe property or fortunes. Lack of control of your own life and instability are not something to be bragging about, and definitely when you are lagging months and months behind, have roommates and have a claim to all these material riches.
So obviously there is something ticking me off right now. Could you guess what it is? Irresponsibility at the age of 30 and lack of commitment to oneself and the responsibilities of life. That is what is bothering me today. What keeps me sane? Having Kai (my mini-pinscher) who has way too much energy for me but she is my baby and I love her. Mr. K (someone who I am currently dating also keeps me grounded. His great energy and positive outlook no matter how pessimistic I am (weird eh).
Current situation: I might have to move back home to Queens because of all this (did I mention we are being kicked out of the apartment because rent is due and not mine obviously). That is if I don't find an apartment between now and Nov 15th. Karma exists so those who fuck also get fucked. Play and you will be played. I have Kai my love and beautiful sanity (like her mom [ME]). I am working at Scholastic and pretty happy after the first week, obviously all I can say, and happy with Mr. K.
Thanks for hearing me out! I needed it! J Write back! Any solutions? Suggestions?
At this point all other aspects of my life have congealed nicely but my living situation has made me ill (physically and mentally). I feel like I have been cheated and lied to. I placed a deposit (which I hope I will get back) before I moved in and gave my months rent with an expectation that it would be mailed as my portion of the deposit to the management company (which is what usually happens), 6 months later I come to know that the deposit was never sent and that I had been lied to. The money definitely came out of my account (no question about that) but it was placed into my roommates pocket for going out, a trip to the west and maybe some trips to the casino. Whatever or wherever it went, it didn't and hasn't made it to the management company's office (nor will it at this point).
Unemployment definitely sucks and I feel for those who are unemployed and their situation is limited because of skills, education or the institutional part (aka –isms). But if you honestly want to work, you could seek it out and in less than 3 months I am sure you can work at least doing retail if your classist pride doesn't get in the way of course, but hey getting laid off from the get-go probably fucked that up already anyways. And taking a sabbatical by the way is a choice not a forced situation where you have your own resources (and not dependent on other people's deposit) to live.
[--Bathroom Break--]
I am a spoiled child, not rich but was definitely spoiled. My mom tried to give me the best of everything and anything she could. I loved it and still love it when my mom does my laundry the night before I depart from JFK, because its closer and I stay over or when she makes thanksgiving dinner at HOME and takes a cab all the way uptown (from Jamaica, Queens) just to spend time with her independent boy. Being independent is another quality I possess and will continue to possess because I DO have true pride for myself and my achievements over the past years. I.E. just recently, although I had a very stable job (as most of you know) doing marketing for a non profit, I applied my ambition and interviewed for corporate and Voila! I am sitting at my corporate desk on my 5 th day at the job. I ended on great terms, no hard feelings or anything and no burned bridges. That is something to be proud of rather than make-believe property or fortunes. Lack of control of your own life and instability are not something to be bragging about, and definitely when you are lagging months and months behind, have roommates and have a claim to all these material riches.
So obviously there is something ticking me off right now. Could you guess what it is? Irresponsibility at the age of 30 and lack of commitment to oneself and the responsibilities of life. That is what is bothering me today. What keeps me sane? Having Kai (my mini-pinscher) who has way too much energy for me but she is my baby and I love her. Mr. K (someone who I am currently dating also keeps me grounded. His great energy and positive outlook no matter how pessimistic I am (weird eh).
Current situation: I might have to move back home to Queens because of all this (did I mention we are being kicked out of the apartment because rent is due and not mine obviously). That is if I don't find an apartment between now and Nov 15th. Karma exists so those who fuck also get fucked. Play and you will be played. I have Kai my love and beautiful sanity (like her mom [ME]). I am working at Scholastic and pretty happy after the first week, obviously all I can say, and happy with Mr. K.
Thanks for hearing me out! I needed it! J Write back! Any solutions? Suggestions?
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
UPDATE---IM BACK
IM BACK IN THE GAME! I will be posting new BLOGS soon! Maybe as soon as yesterday! I just tansferred my previous blogs to this site so if you haven't read my comments on life, and possibly your influence in my overall life...do it soon! Enjoy.
-el nyko
-el nyko
Lovin' the Hott Mess I am...
A new appreciation for my body. So lately I have received a lot of compliments regarding my legs and how full, muscular and big they are. Never had I really thought about them in such a way, well a positive that is. I always thought of them as big and that's it. But now the gym boys have got me on a craze that makes me want to show them off even more. I have known all along that I have great legs, but I have difficulty building my chest. I have always wanted to have nice muscular perky pecs…not manboobs…pecs! But its so damn hard… and now I am noticing more and more people at the gym with puny little chicken legs…hmm… can I just feed off of their inability to have great legs like mine? I mean seriously if you were to see my calves…you would want them…and even the Dominicans that go to my gym are complimenting my booty…wtf? Dominicans… the owners of the ideal booty (in my eyes at least) have complimented my booty…and my strong legs…YIKES! I see the way the look at me and compliment my ass (in their heads) as I walk by 5 barber shops on my 2 block journey from the train station to my building. No wonder they wear their hats that way…so no one can tell where they are looking at… I love my dl Dominicans and my hott legs…
Give me ideas of what to wear for Pride! Think carnival, scandalous and exposed legs…and more of course… J
Give me ideas of what to wear for Pride! Think carnival, scandalous and exposed legs…and more of course… J
Defaulted by the people...WHITE
Turning White...
Am I turning white? or what white america sees as white...
This was never a question while living in Boston, of course I was always the person of color latino or OTHER if you will... however in my transition to NYC not even a year ago now...I have been "mistaken" (because it is most definitely a mistake) and asked if I am white... What a disgusting thing to say to me...someone who is damn proud of who they are and where they come from...In one incident at a training, in an intimate cicle of about twenty people I see two other brown people whispering...to find out they were guessing what I was...Italian or Russian... both of which were random to me and plain out of the question...Some Italians say they can pass as Latinos...and some say they are Latino by injection but to strip me of my identity with their eyes made me feel like I was visually being violated and dismissed. I very diplomatically (which does not happen often) addressed their concern about my identity in spanish, letting them know that I too was part of the brown population.
In my dominican neighborhood I am seen as Puerto Rican, because DR and PR are the only countries (or non-independent nation) outside of the United States...
This also has its interesting effect on relationships. If I were seen with a dark skinned black man...or Latino man... I would be seen as the white counterpart...however if there is a so called "all american" or "boy next door" next to me... I would automatically be converted into this brown folk who provides the white man with UNCUT action in return for (white) security and stability. I know that race is a social construct and that it is peoples perception, but what do I do or have done to have that misconception of being white? I know and love being privileged (with limits obviosuly)..who wouldnt (If you say no you are lying). Real "white" people dont even acknowledge their privilege because its just granted to them with their birth certificate...
thoughts? from all colors...and shades...are appreciated~!
Am I turning white? or what white america sees as white...
This was never a question while living in Boston, of course I was always the person of color latino or OTHER if you will... however in my transition to NYC not even a year ago now...I have been "mistaken" (because it is most definitely a mistake) and asked if I am white... What a disgusting thing to say to me...someone who is damn proud of who they are and where they come from...In one incident at a training, in an intimate cicle of about twenty people I see two other brown people whispering...to find out they were guessing what I was...Italian or Russian... both of which were random to me and plain out of the question...Some Italians say they can pass as Latinos...and some say they are Latino by injection but to strip me of my identity with their eyes made me feel like I was visually being violated and dismissed. I very diplomatically (which does not happen often) addressed their concern about my identity in spanish, letting them know that I too was part of the brown population.
In my dominican neighborhood I am seen as Puerto Rican, because DR and PR are the only countries (or non-independent nation) outside of the United States...
This also has its interesting effect on relationships. If I were seen with a dark skinned black man...or Latino man... I would be seen as the white counterpart...however if there is a so called "all american" or "boy next door" next to me... I would automatically be converted into this brown folk who provides the white man with UNCUT action in return for (white) security and stability. I know that race is a social construct and that it is peoples perception, but what do I do or have done to have that misconception of being white? I know and love being privileged (with limits obviosuly)..who wouldnt (If you say no you are lying). Real "white" people dont even acknowledge their privilege because its just granted to them with their birth certificate...
thoughts? from all colors...and shades...are appreciated~!
POC--Paranoia...Nah Its really real...even in NYC
the poc...ahem nyko supposed paranoia
i love it when any person comes up to me and tells me how great my life is, i mean i am almost white, i almost look italian, portugues or somewhat european... well good cuz i am... on the other hand i also love it when someone tries to dictate TO ME my own reality or dismiss my words when i choose to tell someone about a day in my shoes... the lady i mentioned with the weird look when i walk beside her... the white gay men constantly asking me where i am really from, and the twinks saying, oh girl please its not that bad, look at so and so (a person of color POC) she never complains...its sad to see people simply dismiss my opinions about this city and my reality, and what i go by day in and day out... sure i am privileged, obviously i am online, i am of lighter skin (although when tanned my middle eastern roots clearly stand out and i am seen as "terrorist" and i am search just enought to make me almost miss my flight) and that grants me certain priveleges unfortunately and i work them to the best of my ability and try to fuck the system when they can... obviously i am not the most radical nor the most conservative person, but i like to stand up for myself and some who i know would appreciate it at some point..."oh why cant we live in a color blind world? i mean i dont look at color" bullshit, it obvious people do this... hey i am not excluded from this...i live near projects and i havent heard gunshots but i am wary when there is a group of guys in parkas...they are in parkas and caps...regardless if i see their face and just their backs... i do get a lil shaky especially if its dark out...movies, the media and our perpuation of this... if we keep treating youth as criminals of course they are going to be defensive and look out for themselves...there is a reason why people dont like cops...same criminals all the time... and jails are a corporation...keep puttin them in jail and not educating them and damn you got yourself a fucking business...that will not depreciate because black and latino men will always be criminals according to the system...did i mention how much i love martha stewart show? NOT! although it would have been much more interesting to see it from jail too...stealing money isnt a crime... no of course not...but according to local ordinance hanging out in a predominantly minority community is... in groups of 2 or 3...lets target the naturally social populations. all this institutional racism that people either dont see, because the people in power are so good at keeping it covered up, or because they dont want to face it does exist...its not a paranoia nor an intensely ludicrous theory that nyko came up with...where has the original south end gone? the villa is still there, cathedral is still there, hopefully will continue to stay there but who knows...the gays invested in these areas and "cleaned" it up...by gentrifying the area...good luck jamaica plain... "oh but i love oriental de cuba" says a fellow white lesbian..."its my favorite latin[o] place to get my rice and beans because i am a vegan/vegetarian" .. have you been to the jackson square projects? i ask...oh no, its far (a 5-10 minute walk a hardcore hiker lesbian could easily do)...
"its not that bad", these words always resonate in my head when these people choose when and where to insert themselves in my life and then criticize or add their literal 2 cents if that...then they leave and instead of providing some kind of support or dialogue they choose to ignore and live on their lives as if the conversation never took place...and go out and get drunk with the gay lifestylies...as i often do...why is it always a threat to talk about these things? ask, learn and listen...listen...dont dismiss...yes to each its own...but be willing to hear out an opinion and not dismiss it...afterall it is my reality...everyday, for some others as well...
its not that bad... its not that bad....its not that bad...yea it really is...
i love it when any person comes up to me and tells me how great my life is, i mean i am almost white, i almost look italian, portugues or somewhat european... well good cuz i am... on the other hand i also love it when someone tries to dictate TO ME my own reality or dismiss my words when i choose to tell someone about a day in my shoes... the lady i mentioned with the weird look when i walk beside her... the white gay men constantly asking me where i am really from, and the twinks saying, oh girl please its not that bad, look at so and so (a person of color POC) she never complains...its sad to see people simply dismiss my opinions about this city and my reality, and what i go by day in and day out... sure i am privileged, obviously i am online, i am of lighter skin (although when tanned my middle eastern roots clearly stand out and i am seen as "terrorist" and i am search just enought to make me almost miss my flight) and that grants me certain priveleges unfortunately and i work them to the best of my ability and try to fuck the system when they can... obviously i am not the most radical nor the most conservative person, but i like to stand up for myself and some who i know would appreciate it at some point..."oh why cant we live in a color blind world? i mean i dont look at color" bullshit, it obvious people do this... hey i am not excluded from this...i live near projects and i havent heard gunshots but i am wary when there is a group of guys in parkas...they are in parkas and caps...regardless if i see their face and just their backs... i do get a lil shaky especially if its dark out...movies, the media and our perpuation of this... if we keep treating youth as criminals of course they are going to be defensive and look out for themselves...there is a reason why people dont like cops...same criminals all the time... and jails are a corporation...keep puttin them in jail and not educating them and damn you got yourself a fucking business...that will not depreciate because black and latino men will always be criminals according to the system...did i mention how much i love martha stewart show? NOT! although it would have been much more interesting to see it from jail too...stealing money isnt a crime... no of course not...but according to local ordinance hanging out in a predominantly minority community is... in groups of 2 or 3...lets target the naturally social populations. all this institutional racism that people either dont see, because the people in power are so good at keeping it covered up, or because they dont want to face it does exist...its not a paranoia nor an intensely ludicrous theory that nyko came up with...where has the original south end gone? the villa is still there, cathedral is still there, hopefully will continue to stay there but who knows...the gays invested in these areas and "cleaned" it up...by gentrifying the area...good luck jamaica plain... "oh but i love oriental de cuba" says a fellow white lesbian..."its my favorite latin[o] place to get my rice and beans because i am a vegan/vegetarian" .. have you been to the jackson square projects? i ask...oh no, its far (a 5-10 minute walk a hardcore hiker lesbian could easily do)...
"its not that bad", these words always resonate in my head when these people choose when and where to insert themselves in my life and then criticize or add their literal 2 cents if that...then they leave and instead of providing some kind of support or dialogue they choose to ignore and live on their lives as if the conversation never took place...and go out and get drunk with the gay lifestylies...as i often do...why is it always a threat to talk about these things? ask, learn and listen...listen...dont dismiss...yes to each its own...but be willing to hear out an opinion and not dismiss it...afterall it is my reality...everyday, for some others as well...
its not that bad... its not that bad....its not that bad...yea it really is...
..only in theory would this happen...Roommates
so yes as i look for a roomate for nyc, i dont just want any roomate... he has to be perfect...perfect can mean many things, well yea he has to bring home cute boys to share (not at the same time) but to share their company.. however there should be no loud sex unless i am the one having it, and you must not complain... well he could complain all he wants, but the complain should be something like "how i never get ass" or something. however it would be weird because we would sometimes hookup, and he will never bring just one boy home. he will be very handsome, preferably around my age, trendy but not fem, nor a drama queen. i dont want to take my therapy work home and have to read and suggest something to get over their break up...he needs to be very independent, pay rent on time, maybe pay my share of rent just because he loves me and most importantly hes corporate and makes shit loads of money... we will balance out because obviously i am not greedy and do non profit work, but of course i dont care because he will be supplying the dough for the bougie parties we would throw in our upper east side apartment or in our chelsea loft...
My Default--Whities...
"Whod knew youd be into the whities" said Sharon, my somehow single, hott Taiwanese American best friend from High School... It is an interesting phenomenon how after all my ranting and venting about white people, white privilege and institutional racism I am attracted to white men... hmm... Could it be that Boston is white and that I have become used to white mediocre All american men? Is it that i have reached a plateau and have lost all sense of what attraction is? Out of all the places I have traveled to, and lived in Boston is indeed the most mediocre place for beauty. A friend from New Jersey, not New York City said "Boston celebrates and admires the most mediocre people I have ever seen". That opened my eyes and made me think that it is this same feeling that makes me stick out and exoticizes me. Why? Because I am not white, I am not a twink, and I don't fit into regular fit sized shirts...I mean once in a while its nice to see a nice blond blue eyed guy, or a white beefy brawny-man lookalike but there is more than that. In the process of being here about 5 going on 6 years and hopefully not more than that...my eyes and my perception of "beauty" for a lack of a better word, has been "all american white washed" in New England. I go to bars, and it seems like they used the same cookie cutter for almost all the men in there, of course you do obviously people like me in there that more than stick out in those pretentious crowds but for the most part I make up a unimportant .05 percent of that population... oh and my sidekick gio too... (but he likes them brawny-esque if you will). When I go back to NYC, I get looks. Not the oh-my--gosh-he's-going-to-mug-me looks I get in Boston from the typical MASSholes, or them white ladies that tuck their purses closer to their bossoms, but the "damn papi", "nice" and "hott" looks that only serve to reassure me that damn I am fine and I should have listened to momma' and moved back to NYC when I graduated from school. Focusing now on the posed question... or comment...despite all this white-normative culture that I have survived to an extent am I really into white guys? and why... I would like to say i turn a blind eye to race and all that but hey...it is impossible (and if you say it isn't BULLSHIT) I can't tell you the number of times I ask people where they are from not to test them, but because their traits are so beautiful. Their hair isnt necessarily blond, their nose isn't pointy, and their eyes might not be blue but they are hott, beautiful or whatever you want to call them. Youd like to sleep with them and have their children is the bottom line. Maybe it is Boston? or where I hang out in Boston? One thing is for sure, I dont do the courting and the bullshit pretentious shit, especially not at a dive bar. There arent that many blacks here, or non-brasilian Latinos (dont get me started on those now) but there sure are a whole breed and city of the white ones... maybe that is it... hopefully my mind will change for the better...not necessarily saying for the non-whiter but I will have more exposure to more people in NYC. You see a healthier choice for me altogether...this will be part of the process... New Year, New Resolution, and New Me...ok now off to a white holiday party :) yay! did I mention I Love WHITE wine :)
New Year--New Resolution---New York!
Hey guys,
Happy Holidays to you all! I hope you all got to rest up and eat some good food, I know I sure missed my pernil, tamales and arroz con guandules this past weekend and probably next weekend as well. The strike in NYC kind of put a hold on things for me as well as an emergency that I will not talk to about. Anyways, as the days are getting shorter, I have had some time to think about things and think about them well. I have come up with a new years resolution, that is more than cutting the carbs, or losing the love handles (that I dont have). This year will be mostly dedicated to saving money and grounding myself as I turn a year older, that some of you might have not known because I appear to be older and maturer. Noris save money??! Sounds scary and merely impossible in the non-profit field for me alone, and for those of you who have seen me outside the work environment almost impossible. Anyways the reason for my saving plan is my next step in life this year, a big move. Many of you may know that being a native New yorker is not the easiest thing to be in New England let a lone, Boston. And has become a struggle rather than experience being a person of color who hasn't and refuses to assimilate into the white gay culture. The plan for my big move is for the summer of this year, however if need be I will move earlier. I am starting my search for a place, a roomate, a job etc, its a new begining. This move is in hopes of being closer to my mother, closer to sanity and closer to where I want to be at this point in life. Your help is much needed now, if you guys have leads, or connections with either roomates, places (preferably in the city) and job opportunities let me know. If you need a copy of my resume let me know, but overall my expertise is working with youth, people of color, mostly latin@s and also working with men who have sex with men (MSM) in direct services with HIV/AIDS and suicide prevention as well empowering of people of color. Many of you know me and my ability to learn fast etc. Although I am used to and more experienced in the public health field, but hey... a job is a job and would like to move ASAP. Hopefully this networking attempt works to its fullest. Contact me if you need my resume and if you think you have something i would be good at! Happy Holidays!
Happy Holidays to you all! I hope you all got to rest up and eat some good food, I know I sure missed my pernil, tamales and arroz con guandules this past weekend and probably next weekend as well. The strike in NYC kind of put a hold on things for me as well as an emergency that I will not talk to about. Anyways, as the days are getting shorter, I have had some time to think about things and think about them well. I have come up with a new years resolution, that is more than cutting the carbs, or losing the love handles (that I dont have). This year will be mostly dedicated to saving money and grounding myself as I turn a year older, that some of you might have not known because I appear to be older and maturer. Noris save money??! Sounds scary and merely impossible in the non-profit field for me alone, and for those of you who have seen me outside the work environment almost impossible. Anyways the reason for my saving plan is my next step in life this year, a big move. Many of you may know that being a native New yorker is not the easiest thing to be in New England let a lone, Boston. And has become a struggle rather than experience being a person of color who hasn't and refuses to assimilate into the white gay culture. The plan for my big move is for the summer of this year, however if need be I will move earlier. I am starting my search for a place, a roomate, a job etc, its a new begining. This move is in hopes of being closer to my mother, closer to sanity and closer to where I want to be at this point in life. Your help is much needed now, if you guys have leads, or connections with either roomates, places (preferably in the city) and job opportunities let me know. If you need a copy of my resume let me know, but overall my expertise is working with youth, people of color, mostly latin@s and also working with men who have sex with men (MSM) in direct services with HIV/AIDS and suicide prevention as well empowering of people of color. Many of you know me and my ability to learn fast etc. Although I am used to and more experienced in the public health field, but hey... a job is a job and would like to move ASAP. Hopefully this networking attempt works to its fullest. Contact me if you need my resume and if you think you have something i would be good at! Happy Holidays!
A New York-Vacation (Home-Sweet-Home)
New York
So I am on the bus now and almost had to wait another hour to catch the next one but I too am a bus master. I met some funky people last nite. From cute lil artsy puerto rican boy who is a bottom and has an expert bottom boyfriend (thats what I've heard) to a crazy Kelly Osbourne coke head who was cool because she bought me a lovely overly priced rum and coke...just because I am The Noris, but of course I told her Nyko. Met a guy who was on point [yes chris ON POINT ;)] with politics that works at a bookstore (and knew who Kirschner was... come on how many of you know about Kirschner?), a heroine addict and dealer, some funky tall black guy who was very soft spoken, some crazy kid who said he had to catch the train at 3AM to get home...but yet we saw him at the diner at 6 or 7 AM (SKETCH) . It was a crazy evening-night -morning, needless to say I got back to Chris' (the bad influence who told me that I should stay another night and hang out...tsk tsk tsk) place at 8 am, after picking another fight with two black guys. Lol, yes another fight (total counts of fights picked this weekend...3) . Anyways I'm typing on my blackberry and my fingers are tired nap time!!!!Lets reminisce...So anyways this weekend started off in Brooklyn where Iris was the greatest hostess, kind of, because I only stayed one night there. So I brought my Concha y Toro Chardonnay and in about 30 minutes we were sipping (more like they were sipping) while I was downing this lovely U$ 9.99 Chilean wine. The purpose of getting together Friday was for some potluck that we had been emailing back and forth about, however the Potluck consisted of a lentil soup and fat squares...also known as lemon squares when you put in more butter than you can ever imagine and a teaspoon of ...yes...lemon juice. I mean they were great Cecilia...So she's not making them anymore. Blah blah blah...Chris B. shows up somehow in Manhattan...and we leave to go to New Jersey (where he lives) at what time I don't know. Rewinding a bit on that night I was told that: A. I was grabbing random guys butts, and pretending it wasn't me and not being subtle at all.B. Taking pictures with a random guy who I just put my arm around and said "Hey come take a picture with me. (He was cute too though, and there are pictures to prove it).C. Picking some fights on the New Jersey Path train.Needless to say, it was a very eventful Friday night :)SaturdayWoke up. The time well it was light out. I am in Jersey! in a bed that had red wine spilled on it, hey I've been in worse situations, it was fine. Chris is all crazy cleaning and being super sweet. My Che T-shirt that I had just bought the night before in a Chinatown-3 T-shirts for U$10.00 store was missing half the sleeves and some of the torso. Yes, to make it fashionable Ceci and myself cut it on Friday night, after a couple of bottles of rum, white and red wine were consumed. Neither one of us is a tailor or seamstress. The clothes gets washed AND dried...and SHRUNK!!!! On my way back to Brooklyn I look like a really gay-still stuck in the 80's-guy wearing a headband and a belly shirt...All the way back to Brooklyn, thank goodness for a lovely medium women's sweater that Laura let me borrow. Supposedly I saw her the night before... went to H&M, to this arts fair that was done by the time we got there (bout 5PM). H&M, sample sale, and the other H&M in SoHo, I went crazy...well not really, oh and did I mention I bought two pairs of sneakers for less than U$100.00 in Chinatown of course... not sure if they are real or not, but they haven't fallen apart yet. Had Thai food, on the UWS and then only had one bottle of wine, but a lot of free shots at Central Bar (thanx Ceci). This was the night that I crawled underneath the turnstile to avoid paying the U$2.00 subway in NYC, and actually slept at Iris'.SundayWoke up on a piece of mat smaller than a twin size bed, next to Ceci and we were both on the mat neither of us touching the floor. Since I have a blackberry I went on MH (the gays understand this terminology) got some phone calls but had no time (thinking that I was leaving Sunday). Took my oversized duffle bag I packed for the weekend (even though I wore the same pair of jeans and my two new shirts I bought at the sample sale, and I was on my way to the East Village where I met up with Chris M. for brunch, and then was convinced to stay the night.Purge (also known as URGE)--> The Phoenix --> APT or ApartmentI think those are it, drinking, flirting, meeting Chris' random friends while observing and being jealous of those who are currently living in New York, the motherland for the cool people. The music, the randomness, the fights, the chic-ness, the friendliness, the MEN (OF COLOR), the men of not so much color, the cokeheads, the heroin addicts, the gays kissing in public, the high cost of living....oh I miss it! Now back to boring Boston...Grrr....
So I am on the bus now and almost had to wait another hour to catch the next one but I too am a bus master. I met some funky people last nite. From cute lil artsy puerto rican boy who is a bottom and has an expert bottom boyfriend (thats what I've heard) to a crazy Kelly Osbourne coke head who was cool because she bought me a lovely overly priced rum and coke...just because I am The Noris, but of course I told her Nyko. Met a guy who was on point [yes chris ON POINT ;)] with politics that works at a bookstore (and knew who Kirschner was... come on how many of you know about Kirschner?), a heroine addict and dealer, some funky tall black guy who was very soft spoken, some crazy kid who said he had to catch the train at 3AM to get home...but yet we saw him at the diner at 6 or 7 AM (SKETCH) . It was a crazy evening-night -morning, needless to say I got back to Chris' (the bad influence who told me that I should stay another night and hang out...tsk tsk tsk) place at 8 am, after picking another fight with two black guys. Lol, yes another fight (total counts of fights picked this weekend...3) . Anyways I'm typing on my blackberry and my fingers are tired nap time!!!!Lets reminisce...So anyways this weekend started off in Brooklyn where Iris was the greatest hostess, kind of, because I only stayed one night there. So I brought my Concha y Toro Chardonnay and in about 30 minutes we were sipping (more like they were sipping) while I was downing this lovely U$ 9.99 Chilean wine. The purpose of getting together Friday was for some potluck that we had been emailing back and forth about, however the Potluck consisted of a lentil soup and fat squares...also known as lemon squares when you put in more butter than you can ever imagine and a teaspoon of ...yes...lemon juice. I mean they were great Cecilia...So she's not making them anymore. Blah blah blah...Chris B. shows up somehow in Manhattan...and we leave to go to New Jersey (where he lives) at what time I don't know. Rewinding a bit on that night I was told that: A. I was grabbing random guys butts, and pretending it wasn't me and not being subtle at all.B. Taking pictures with a random guy who I just put my arm around and said "Hey come take a picture with me. (He was cute too though, and there are pictures to prove it).C. Picking some fights on the New Jersey Path train.Needless to say, it was a very eventful Friday night :)SaturdayWoke up. The time well it was light out. I am in Jersey! in a bed that had red wine spilled on it, hey I've been in worse situations, it was fine. Chris is all crazy cleaning and being super sweet. My Che T-shirt that I had just bought the night before in a Chinatown-3 T-shirts for U$10.00 store was missing half the sleeves and some of the torso. Yes, to make it fashionable Ceci and myself cut it on Friday night, after a couple of bottles of rum, white and red wine were consumed. Neither one of us is a tailor or seamstress. The clothes gets washed AND dried...and SHRUNK!!!! On my way back to Brooklyn I look like a really gay-still stuck in the 80's-guy wearing a headband and a belly shirt...All the way back to Brooklyn, thank goodness for a lovely medium women's sweater that Laura let me borrow. Supposedly I saw her the night before... went to H&M, to this arts fair that was done by the time we got there (bout 5PM). H&M, sample sale, and the other H&M in SoHo, I went crazy...well not really, oh and did I mention I bought two pairs of sneakers for less than U$100.00 in Chinatown of course... not sure if they are real or not, but they haven't fallen apart yet. Had Thai food, on the UWS and then only had one bottle of wine, but a lot of free shots at Central Bar (thanx Ceci). This was the night that I crawled underneath the turnstile to avoid paying the U$2.00 subway in NYC, and actually slept at Iris'.SundayWoke up on a piece of mat smaller than a twin size bed, next to Ceci and we were both on the mat neither of us touching the floor. Since I have a blackberry I went on MH (the gays understand this terminology) got some phone calls but had no time (thinking that I was leaving Sunday). Took my oversized duffle bag I packed for the weekend (even though I wore the same pair of jeans and my two new shirts I bought at the sample sale, and I was on my way to the East Village where I met up with Chris M. for brunch, and then was convinced to stay the night.Purge (also known as URGE)--> The Phoenix --> APT or ApartmentI think those are it, drinking, flirting, meeting Chris' random friends while observing and being jealous of those who are currently living in New York, the motherland for the cool people. The music, the randomness, the fights, the chic-ness, the friendliness, the MEN (OF COLOR), the men of not so much color, the cokeheads, the heroin addicts, the gays kissing in public, the high cost of living....oh I miss it! Now back to boring Boston...Grrr....
PLENA can be HOPEful
PLENA can be HOPEful
Euphoria is what I felt last night, not the kind you feel when you are on E, or that felt by the tina girls but just general happiness and out of all places I felt it at Tufts. Yes, Tufts my alma mater a place I probably never felt that way during the four years I was there. Well maybe that is a stretch but you get the picture. I felt as if I were out of Tufts for a second in such a comfortable place, where I saw my Latino/as and surprising a lot of the blanquitos (dancing off beat of course) and they were sober! A band called Yerba Buena was playing at Hotung, my favorite buffalo chicken sub place...yumm...Actually Ceci and Iris used to work there, and boy was the food better when it was free. Anyhow this band Yerba Buena plays PLENA music, hmmm, now what is PLENA? Well when I was introduced to PLENA, it stood for Padres Latinos Educando Nuestro Amigos, and well it was a failure. I heard all about it but never saw it, it was supposed to be an HIV education program for adults/parents, but like I said it was supposed to be. The program was named after the style of music in order to recreate familiarity with the Latino/a community mostly of Puerto Rican and Dominican decent (but that would be too much to ask afterall it is your job to recruit and work if you are getting paid rather than book flights and hotel rooms). For those of you who know me now know why this episode is called PLENA without the HOPE. PLENA was so beyond HOPEful it wasn't funny. The energy in that room was off the walls, the white frat boys, the white dread head girls, the stiff white ballroom dancers dancing a 2 step dance with a weird salsa-cha-cha-cha beat, white kids who simply came because it was a class assignment to write about it, this vibrant petite woman who seemed like she was made of elastic on that dance floor (and she happened to be a professor), latino men who actually got on the dance floor to prove to the white boys that they can do more than grind to reggaeton, and of course my sexy Latinas who moved their hips better than Ricky Martin nowadays. That room was full of PLENA, "an important genre of folk music in Puerto Rico and typically associated with coastal regions of the island. Like the corrido in Mexico, the plena is a narrative song that details the pains and ironies of people and life in their communities." It was a simple beat, like Ciara's 1, 2-step except you need to feel it. I guess the white kids can always claim they feel it. Hey I give them credit for standing up and dancing, I was not about to go stand up and look like that sketchy alum who hangs around and starts dancing with the freshmen girls (because that is what you know all guys should do, especially if you are Latino). I would have gotten up to dance if the really hott bass player would have pulled me from the crowd, but alas he did not, his loss. So yes this music that you feel (PLENA) was amazing, it was something you just needed to clap or tap your feet to, and kind of bob your head a little bit also, if you can actually do both. People have enough trouble rubbing their stomach and tapping their head as it is. It made you want to have a guiro in your hand and just stroke it. Another thing you can defintely feel and hear is the African influence, the percussion the shells shaking, the drums make from wood and some kind of hide. The beat mostly reminded me of natural geographics episode or something, on the learning channel. You know the shows where the white British or Aussie (same shit) explorer exploits the "uncivilized" in exchange for some chewing gum. Well that music they play in the background is exactly what it reminded me of, yea I have been guilty of watching those shows. The drums beating, the dancing, the percussion getting faster, feeling your heart beat faster and faster but not being scared. This is what took me to another level. I was removed from Tufts, from Boston, but I wasn't quite in New York, I was just in my own little place smiling tapping my feet, swaying my head, and clapping my hands, wondering how many of the folks in that room knew and appreciated the Africanness of the music, and the people. I saw such great potential in PLENA, I was HOPEful in PLENA.
Euphoria is what I felt last night, not the kind you feel when you are on E, or that felt by the tina girls but just general happiness and out of all places I felt it at Tufts. Yes, Tufts my alma mater a place I probably never felt that way during the four years I was there. Well maybe that is a stretch but you get the picture. I felt as if I were out of Tufts for a second in such a comfortable place, where I saw my Latino/as and surprising a lot of the blanquitos (dancing off beat of course) and they were sober! A band called Yerba Buena was playing at Hotung, my favorite buffalo chicken sub place...yumm...Actually Ceci and Iris used to work there, and boy was the food better when it was free. Anyhow this band Yerba Buena plays PLENA music, hmmm, now what is PLENA? Well when I was introduced to PLENA, it stood for Padres Latinos Educando Nuestro Amigos, and well it was a failure. I heard all about it but never saw it, it was supposed to be an HIV education program for adults/parents, but like I said it was supposed to be. The program was named after the style of music in order to recreate familiarity with the Latino/a community mostly of Puerto Rican and Dominican decent (but that would be too much to ask afterall it is your job to recruit and work if you are getting paid rather than book flights and hotel rooms). For those of you who know me now know why this episode is called PLENA without the HOPE. PLENA was so beyond HOPEful it wasn't funny. The energy in that room was off the walls, the white frat boys, the white dread head girls, the stiff white ballroom dancers dancing a 2 step dance with a weird salsa-cha-cha-cha beat, white kids who simply came because it was a class assignment to write about it, this vibrant petite woman who seemed like she was made of elastic on that dance floor (and she happened to be a professor), latino men who actually got on the dance floor to prove to the white boys that they can do more than grind to reggaeton, and of course my sexy Latinas who moved their hips better than Ricky Martin nowadays. That room was full of PLENA, "an important genre of folk music in Puerto Rico and typically associated with coastal regions of the island. Like the corrido in Mexico, the plena is a narrative song that details the pains and ironies of people and life in their communities." It was a simple beat, like Ciara's 1, 2-step except you need to feel it. I guess the white kids can always claim they feel it. Hey I give them credit for standing up and dancing, I was not about to go stand up and look like that sketchy alum who hangs around and starts dancing with the freshmen girls (because that is what you know all guys should do, especially if you are Latino). I would have gotten up to dance if the really hott bass player would have pulled me from the crowd, but alas he did not, his loss. So yes this music that you feel (PLENA) was amazing, it was something you just needed to clap or tap your feet to, and kind of bob your head a little bit also, if you can actually do both. People have enough trouble rubbing their stomach and tapping their head as it is. It made you want to have a guiro in your hand and just stroke it. Another thing you can defintely feel and hear is the African influence, the percussion the shells shaking, the drums make from wood and some kind of hide. The beat mostly reminded me of natural geographics episode or something, on the learning channel. You know the shows where the white British or Aussie (same shit) explorer exploits the "uncivilized" in exchange for some chewing gum. Well that music they play in the background is exactly what it reminded me of, yea I have been guilty of watching those shows. The drums beating, the dancing, the percussion getting faster, feeling your heart beat faster and faster but not being scared. This is what took me to another level. I was removed from Tufts, from Boston, but I wasn't quite in New York, I was just in my own little place smiling tapping my feet, swaying my head, and clapping my hands, wondering how many of the folks in that room knew and appreciated the Africanness of the music, and the people. I saw such great potential in PLENA, I was HOPEful in PLENA.
BLEACH
Bleach
So what's my deal with the white folks, I keep mentioning them like they are some savages, who can't dance, can't dress, can't cook, but can defintely be complete trash and put a suit on and EVERYONE thinks they got money! SO basically it is about the white privilege. Sure it is not my fault I am not white (not that I would want to be one), but hell yea I would like walk into a Tiffany's or Saks 5th Ave and not be followed. Come on Neiman Marcus please...I do not need them queeny white bottoms chasing me around asking me if I need help. If I needed it I would ask. Now there are all kinds of whites, just like there are any other I guess, except only WHITES can be racist, yes that is correct, only WHITES can be racist. WHITES have the power and that allows them to be racist, people of color do not have power, however we can be (and probably well deservingly) prejudice. Perfect example, Christopher Columbus. In schools we are taught to glorify this guy who came from Europe and started killing the beautiful people he called Indians there was no PC term back then. In fact he brought an army of white European "settlers" to the "Americas" (thanks a lot Vespucci), and similar to Bush he civilized and capitalized and brought STDs. That is just one, but you get the picture. You are never really taught an alternative story unless you are financial (or very few times aware of scholarships) privilege. White middle class women always complain about the inequities in salaries, BLAH BLAH BLAH, YAWN. How about the women of color that don't make that money either. A lot of women are conformed though because that is the way things are, the white man is always on top, unless he is gay in which case he is a big old bottom with a small one. While I am on the subject I guess I should touch on the white gays too. Oh all so cute. We got the twinks, the tinas, the muscleheads, the 35+ year old "bois", the married ones, the heterosexually married ones, the bears, the punks, the pigs, the leather daddies, the sugar daddies (my favorite), and the "I am wearing my only brand shirt, and jeans at Club Cafe" (for the Boston folks). I am sure I am missing a few, but they are all the same in the long run. Bottoms, think that brown skin is exotic, think the Asians are submissive, and the blacks have huge...some do. We (people of color) are automatically labeled as we walk into a meeting, a club, a bar, a store, the airport, and now even the subway. When I get tanned I look or can look Middle Eastern (what that means I do not know). So after September 11th, of course I am checked at all airport profiling points. I can only imagine what is happening to people who look this way on a daily basis. Of course not so much the lighter ones because they probably were in this with Bush from the get-go with the oil wells. Back to the gays, the twinks are small sometimes anorexic white boys some in college who have no worries. Some call themselves jocks, bois, masculine you name it, but sexuality is like nothing. I mean most do come off as that bitchy queen but some actually are muscleboys but that does not automatically make you masculine by any means, especially if you are taking your shirt off next to me while dancing on the cube. So yea these boys some are part time escorts because mommy and daddy wont give them drug money, that nice bag all the twinks have, or that nice pair of jeans that for some odd reason costs U$215.00. I have no problem with escorting, but it should not be taken as a joke, I mean there are people out there that desperately NEED the money to eat or pay rent. Simple survival. Not only this about the twinks but they make other twinks of lower economic status as though they need to be up to par with them with the money privilege and all that they might feel out of place. Because white college kid= white kid with money especially when you are in a very white city where low income housing people are surviving on 10 grand a year maybe?
So what's my deal with the white folks, I keep mentioning them like they are some savages, who can't dance, can't dress, can't cook, but can defintely be complete trash and put a suit on and EVERYONE thinks they got money! SO basically it is about the white privilege. Sure it is not my fault I am not white (not that I would want to be one), but hell yea I would like walk into a Tiffany's or Saks 5th Ave and not be followed. Come on Neiman Marcus please...I do not need them queeny white bottoms chasing me around asking me if I need help. If I needed it I would ask. Now there are all kinds of whites, just like there are any other I guess, except only WHITES can be racist, yes that is correct, only WHITES can be racist. WHITES have the power and that allows them to be racist, people of color do not have power, however we can be (and probably well deservingly) prejudice. Perfect example, Christopher Columbus. In schools we are taught to glorify this guy who came from Europe and started killing the beautiful people he called Indians there was no PC term back then. In fact he brought an army of white European "settlers" to the "Americas" (thanks a lot Vespucci), and similar to Bush he civilized and capitalized and brought STDs. That is just one, but you get the picture. You are never really taught an alternative story unless you are financial (or very few times aware of scholarships) privilege. White middle class women always complain about the inequities in salaries, BLAH BLAH BLAH, YAWN. How about the women of color that don't make that money either. A lot of women are conformed though because that is the way things are, the white man is always on top, unless he is gay in which case he is a big old bottom with a small one. While I am on the subject I guess I should touch on the white gays too. Oh all so cute. We got the twinks, the tinas, the muscleheads, the 35+ year old "bois", the married ones, the heterosexually married ones, the bears, the punks, the pigs, the leather daddies, the sugar daddies (my favorite), and the "I am wearing my only brand shirt, and jeans at Club Cafe" (for the Boston folks). I am sure I am missing a few, but they are all the same in the long run. Bottoms, think that brown skin is exotic, think the Asians are submissive, and the blacks have huge...some do. We (people of color) are automatically labeled as we walk into a meeting, a club, a bar, a store, the airport, and now even the subway. When I get tanned I look or can look Middle Eastern (what that means I do not know). So after September 11th, of course I am checked at all airport profiling points. I can only imagine what is happening to people who look this way on a daily basis. Of course not so much the lighter ones because they probably were in this with Bush from the get-go with the oil wells. Back to the gays, the twinks are small sometimes anorexic white boys some in college who have no worries. Some call themselves jocks, bois, masculine you name it, but sexuality is like nothing. I mean most do come off as that bitchy queen but some actually are muscleboys but that does not automatically make you masculine by any means, especially if you are taking your shirt off next to me while dancing on the cube. So yea these boys some are part time escorts because mommy and daddy wont give them drug money, that nice bag all the twinks have, or that nice pair of jeans that for some odd reason costs U$215.00. I have no problem with escorting, but it should not be taken as a joke, I mean there are people out there that desperately NEED the money to eat or pay rent. Simple survival. Not only this about the twinks but they make other twinks of lower economic status as though they need to be up to par with them with the money privilege and all that they might feel out of place. Because white college kid= white kid with money especially when you are in a very white city where low income housing people are surviving on 10 grand a year maybe?
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