Preemptive Fun

Fall semester will be here in no time at all.  I remember what it was like to be a student: weekends not my own, always more work to do, my terrible proclivity to procrastinate...I

am determined to excel in this MFA program, or at least to give it all I’ve got.  I’m ready to do that – happy to, in fact, but freely relinquishing my “free time” has me in a tizzy to pack as many good times into this summer as possible.  I know, making it a goal sort of sucks out the leisure and relaxation of the endeavor, but a friend told me, “you know stress will come sooner or later, so it’s important to be deliberate about your free, happy times, so you can look back [retreat] on them during the crazy times.”  Already, a few weeks ago, we up and went to St. Louis. Chicago is next on the docket and probably Omaha after that.  In between, there are home updates and repairs, scholarship searches and of course my actual job.  Can one be overwhelmed by the good and positive things on the horizon? That’s called eustress, right?

Made up words

Scene: In Urban Outfitters. T, friend and HomeBoy looking around.

**

Friend:  

I like UO, but sometimes it's hit or miss.

T: 

(picks up cluch with tiny bow) Hit.

Friend: 

 (picks up faded, floral thing) Miss.

T:  

It's cool for inspiration, but they try too hard.  Then again, I've never been a fan of buying new things that look used.  It's...it's faux-thentic.

Friend: 

Yeah, and it's overpriced. (chuckles) I like that, "faux-thentic."

T:  

If I see something in UO that I like, I always want to cross check with my grandma, my mom and aunts to make sure they don't already have the very thing I'm looking at.

Friend: 

Good idea. (picking up some pattern covered thing) I wish they had more of their furniture in-store.  I really like the whole Anthro, UO aesthetic.

T: 

They are very similar.

Friend: 

 They're owned by the same people.

T:  

Really? I didn't know that - explains a lot.  It's like the Banana, GAP, Old Navy trifecta.

Friend:  

Exactly. UO is a step down from Anthropologie.  It's like the GAP.

T: 

 Well, I wish they would get a move on that Old Navy version because this is still too much.

I’m a Lover of a Fighter

When HomeBoy takes an interest in something or takes to a new hobby, OMGoodness, he goes so hard.  Case and point, in our last apartment, when he was wrapped-knuckles deep in boxing, I came home one day to a speed bag on the living room wall.  (I was not happy about this, as our last place was a great loft with high ceilings and an open floor plan – so open that one could see said speed bag from any vantage point except the bathroom. But I digress…) So yes, HomeBoy takes an interest and then he’s relentless.  His latest love?  Jiu-Jistu and mixed martial arts.  To his credit, HomeBoy’s interest began before the hoopla of the Ultimate Fighter Competition reality series, and as an historian, he’s delved into the beginnings of the sport and learned much about its geography and evolution.  (He’s a veritable walking mass of Gracie, Jiu-Jitsu, MMA trivia, complete with bad Portuguese accent imitation.) 

I am sometimes swept up in the whirlwind of HomeBoy’s enthusiasm, and a couple weekends ago is a prime example.  His hobby took us to St. Louis on Saturday for an event sponsored by Strikeforce, the second largest promoter of MMA after the UFC.  When I decided to be a good sport and tag along for this event, I considered the sociological possibilities of such an immersion. I was not disappointed.  It was a soggy drive there and back, but the event was really rather cool.  I have a greater appreciation for MMA after seeing it live.  We watched several matches, none of which were boring.  I even recognized a fighter, and because the tickets were so affordable we had really good seats--close enough to watch the action in the cage and not depend on the jumbo monitor overhead, far enough away to avoid sweat or blood.  The physical disparity between the fighters and the fans was quite ironic. While the fighters all looked like extras from 300, most of the audience (as I described to a friend) looked like they were as enthusiastic about KFC as UFC.  There was an abundance of Affliction and Tap Out gear, a fair share of spiky hair and mullets, plus the overdressed ladies who were 1) with the fighters 2) with the promoters 3) trying to go home with a fighter or promoter.  Thankfully, nobody spilled beer on me and that pregnant lady didn't go into labor. (No, you didn't misread that.)

All jokes aside, I really did have a good time, and it made me thankful that HomeBoy and I are so different. I'd have never experienced something like that were it up to me alone.  Who knows? Maybe I'll hit the mats and train with him one of these days. (If he reads this, I'll never hear the end of that.)

insha-Allah*

Erykah Badu

 Janelle Monae

June

I. am. so. there.

* "if God wills"

Edited to add: Got tickets. It's going down.

Came and went

While the end of National Poetry Month came and went without a peep from me, I did have a poem in my proverbial pocket on April 30.  In fact, I shared it in my toast at my sister's wedding reception the following day. (Surely you can fill in the blanks regarding my absence: lil sis getting married + big sis/matron of honor in town the week before + loose ends = no rest for the weary.)

"The Sun Never Says"

Even after all this time

the sun never says to the earth, 

"You owe me."

Look what happens

with a love like that.

It lights the Whole sky.

- Hafiz

Farewell NPM,
and congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Austin.