It's A Choice, Apparently.

If only it were this easy. Don't you hate when self-help wannabes tell you this shit? SMH

*smooches...trying to choose happiness*
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misery calls me, though. it's my drug!

Calling All Native Brooklynites!

I'm over here making moves, son. Either get on board or get the fuck out of the way. I'd rather you get on board, though.

Spread the word, mmkay?

*smooches...prepping myself for a busy winter*
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can't stop, won't stop

Dance Break, aka Jaded Is Off Today

Because I'm at a Yankees game today, (thanks, job I love, for the hook-up), all you're getting is this video of an oldie but goodie:



Hope that booty shake gave you life!

*smooches...avoiding foul balls like a mofo*
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actually, none came my way. still.

Mari Speaks On...

...dating:

"If I shave my legs and apply lotion the day we hang out, we go together."

File that under #mariskeystodating. You're welcome.

*smooches...sharing important info with the masses*
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and this is why I say Mari is crazy

What Else Is There To Say?

I'm sure you're just as inundated with news items coming out of Missouri as I am. Therefore I won't reiterate it here. All this news coverage and updates on social media is making me physically ill. It's 9-11 all over again, and that familiar knot has landed on my chest and won't leave. I suppose the fact that I've decided to stay and fight the good fight, in whatever form that means for me here in Brooklyn, will ease me a bit. Only time will tell. I dropped the ball after that asshole Zimmerman was set free. I won't ever forgive myself if I do it again.

In the meantime, if you, too, are looking for ways to do something- donate to those at ground zero in Ferguson, join local groups to enact change in the laws or in how police are allowed to treat citizens- let me know either in the comments or via email.

(Just a bit of comic relief because LORD KNOWS we need it!)


This isn't a Black thing, it's a human thing, and I'm not going to tell you what to do, but don't wait until the "police" bang down your door and harm your loved ones unjustly before you decide to do something. This affects all of us.

*smooches...trying to find peace*
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...first in my heart, then in the world, I guess.

Next Year, The Quinces Will Be In DR

She's so feisty, I can't help but see myself in her and love her to death. And since her sister went off to college, N has become my shenanigans road dawg, and I do believe it's brought us closer.

I mean, listen, instead of telling me I'm uncool or embarrassing, she's usually the first in line to participate in my foolishness. How many moms can say that?

Happy Birthday, my Black Queen-in-Training! I look forward to being by your side as you make this world your bitch!

*smooches...just for my schmoo-pie today*
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ain't she grand?

Musical Interlude For Sanity's Sake

Because if I don't dance these feelings out, you're going to see me on the six o'clock news, atop the clock tower downtown, picking off cops one at a time. Real talk.

Yeah I said it.



Play this on repeat and dance with me.

*smooches...trying to release this negative energy*
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I got nothing, man. just let me dance in peace.

Currently Obsessed With...

...this song and video


...this TV show, because witches!


...this book; you think it's about baseball at first, but it's really abut life.

What's keeping you busy this summer?

*smooches...off to play more Kes*
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their music really is everything

In Case You're Looking For Me

A lot of you forget to check my site for appearances, and then pull the whole "you had a reading?" schpiel after the fact. Well here's a gentle reminder that I'm actively booking events where I host and/or read, and you need to be in the audience cheering me on.

How can you say no to that face?

That is all.

*smooches...gearing up for a busy season*
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it's about to be LOCO!

Waiting To Excavate: A One-Scene Play

Friend: Do they make meds for "Shiftless Negro Syndrome?"
Me: No. Scientists are too busy trying to control our wombs to worry about that.
Friend: I need them up out my uterus. They can work on that.
Me: All the way out.

Me: *walks into uterus, sees a bunch of scientists, clergy, and politicians* "Umm, hello? Do I know you? How'd you get in here?"
Them: "The door was open..."
Me: BULL. SHIT.
Them: "It's for your own good"

Friend: *smh*

Me: (as Bernadine) "GET YO SHIT... GET YO SHIT, AND GET THE FUCK OUT!"

Friend: O_O!!! You know she set shit on fire after that.
Me: Mhmm. I'm OK with that. I already had babies.

*smooches...ready to bring this show to Congress*
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they'll give me the floor, right?

SON. I Received A Letter From The IRS.

When I say that, upon seeing a THICK envelope in the mailbox from the IRS, my heart was in my throat, I'm not exaggerating. My first thought was SHIT. I'M BEING AUDITED. THEY'RE GONNA SEIZE MY MONEY! Which, of course, is ridiculous because I'm worth about five pesos.

Still, a letter from the IRS can't be good, right? Not a thick envelope--that must mean they needed a bunch of pages to tell me how badly they're about to fuck up my life.

Except that's not what it said.

Y'all. There was an error in my favor. I overpaid the government in 2011.

THEY ARE SENDING ME A REFUND.

Happy Friday, my good people. It's raining freakin' pennies from freakin' heaven!

*smooches...already spending that money in my head*
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don't worry, The Voices and I are spending responsibly :)

So This Happened: "Because Tuesday."

Last night was one of those ONLY IN NY nights that, if you're not from here, you don't know what I mean or how awesome it feels. And let's be real- NYC is turning into one big touristy mall that sickens me to my core, HOWEVER, once in a blue Tuesday, it's old NY where the drinks are cheap and the laughs are plentiful and all the strangers on the street are your new best friends.

And so, to that end, here's a photo I found on my phone this morning, presented without additional commentary or explanation. I call this piece "Because Tuesday."

*smooches...loving NY again*
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at least until my bank statement comes in...

What I Found In My Purse, Pt. 1

Lubricant.

Let me explain.

After my fabulous reading at Pacific Standard on the 17th, I stuck around with some folks and maybe, allegedly had one too many drinks. When it was clear we'd need food to sustain this level of drinking, we decided to leave the bar. And guess what was near the door? A bowl full of condoms and lube. FOR FREE.

So drunk Raquel decided these were MUST-HAVE items, despite the fact that 1) she's not having sex with anyone and B) she already has about 100 condoms at home (a gift from a cousin; a story for another day).

A week ago or so I had a foggy memory about trying to hand out these condoms and lube to some homeless people on the street, only to have my drinking buddies snatch me up and throw me in a cab with a NO MAS, GO HOME. #Rude.

And now fast forward to last night, I'm cleaning out my tote because it weighs about 15lbs and my back can't take it. What do I find at the bottom? Two condoms and two packets of lubricant. It took me a minute to remember how these got in my bag, but there it is. The story of how I found lube in my purse.

Also? JUST SAY NO.

*smooches...remembering why I stopped boozing*
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although the stories are pretty blog-worthy...

"Why It Happen?"

Mari pointed out that I, yet again, have let this blog fall to the wayside. But first...ratchetness...


(Did you ever think you'd live to see the day when a song about oral sex would be allowed in your life?)

Anywhores...

I don't keep a regular blogging schedule anymore. I know. I'm sorry if you were still looking forward to reading this on a regular basis, but, well, life got in the way.

First- there are family things I'm dealing with that are weighing on me, but I was asked not to share one of them publicly, and the other is a rather sensitive topic, so there go those blog posts. Look at me being all appropriate n shit!

I'm also dealing with yet ANOTHER huge financial burden and struggle, but listen--y'all are tired of hearing me complain about my lack of funds, so I won't bore you with it. It's boring. I'M bored with it. Let's move on.

Finally, my weight & health continue to be a huge struggle for me, and that's another topic I'm sure y'all are tired of reading about. I understand now how someone can't quit drinking or shooting up: food is a helluva drug, and I've not found a good enough treatment for my addiction.

So please excuse me if my fat ass chooses to steer clear of your inbox on the regular. I'm not especially proud of my personal life right now.

Professionally, though? I was just published again, so, you know, #WINNING.

*smooches...with a few things to say for now*
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will I make it to the end of summer, posting regularly? keep checking to find out :)

In Case Your Monday's Been Shitty

Feast your eyes on all this beauty:

L to r: Authors Blu Daniels, Rebeca Lucret, Theresa Varela,
Alicia Anabel Santos, and Raquel Penzo. (c) 2014 David Stewart

These smart, talented, GORGEOUS women participated in my Lit Crawl Brooklyn event, "When Brooklyn Was Brooklyn," and will be featured in the book next year. If you missed it you MISSED it, because it was one helluva show.

But at least I'm being kind enough to allow you to gawk at us. You're welcome.

*smooches...busy being a proud "momma"*
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for every four "eh" events there's one awesome, and that one makes all the others worth it!

Hello, Weekend.

I've been waiting for you FOREVER. The stress of life is trying to kill me. Come, let me nestle in your bosom...



*smooches...hoping Monday takes its time as well*
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hope y'all have a good one, too!

You're Invited.

Really hope you can make it!

*smooches...keeping busy*
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if I stop, I die.

I Prefer A Far-Away Crush

That unattainable man in a picture somewhere that I don't know and will never meet? The one with the messy beard and long dreads? With the washboard abs and chiseled everything else? The one who loves to paint and dance and cook and travel the world? Who loves sports and the arts equally? Who cares about me and my work and my family?
 

SOURCE: beardedandblack

 We're perfect for each other in my head.

All others need not apply.

*smooches...indulging in some internet eye candy*
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and don't even bother telling me if you know this guy. It ruins the fantasy if I actually have access to him!

I Fill This Void

with food.

So much food that it rises up into my esophagus
Teetering at the back of my throat
Threatening to spill out of my mouth

I fill that void
with sex.

Anonymous, no strings, fake names sex
Leaving in the dawn in a cab sex
Never call me again ever sex

I fill this void
with whiskey.

Shots lined up at the bar like chorus girls
Kicking their way down
Jazz hands scratching at my liver

I fill that void
with danger.

3AM alone on the platform
Taunting with my indifference, my apathy
Daring someone to come at me

I fill this void

with you.

*smooches...digging in the crates for Thursday*
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this bad poem totally describes my 30s. totally!

We're All Adults Here, Right?

FRIEND: This is my second attempt at contact. I'm done now. No reply, no goodies. I shall go to the freaky store, lol quench my own damn thirst.

ME: How many are there out there?

FRIEND: IDK I only go to one.

ME: "Hey! Welcome back, [FRIEND]!"

FRIEND: O_O!!! I'm [FAKE NAME] in there!

ME: hahahahaha!

FRIEND: Cash only lmao!!!

ME: #Trife

FRIEND: Prolly

ME: *orders online; plain brown box*

FRIEND: #TrifeLife

*smooches...unapologetically unashamed*
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I don't see none of y'all paying my bills OR quenching my thirst O_o