coffeenated

this is it

those moments when i turn my music up loud, open the windows and the front door, burn incense, smoke weed, rearrange furniture, change the page on the calendar, talk to my mom for over an hour about everything and nothing, make my best friend laugh repeatedly, introduce people to the vagina song, finish a book in a day, look forward to reading more books, sit still and do nothing, sit still and say nothing, pause to get a kiss from #him, decide to throw away everything in my closet that makes me look fatter than i am, throw away anything in this apartment I don’t really need, drink coffee late in the day, smile for no reason at all except i’m happy — those define life. 

things i’ve learned messing with tumblr

playing with posting times messes up your queued post queue. boo.

i feel sorry for my neighbors on days like this…

I’ve been having an indoor concert for the last three hours as I write, blog, clean and generally multitask my way through my day. I’ve sang most every song I put on this playlist, and it has been fun. The volume is up, my window is open, and I’m enjoying myself. 

at once, randomly

1. I am a maker of lists. It’s how I stay “organized.” I’ve use, but I find writing things down on paper is so much more satisfying. 

Read More

the more you know…

I love the taste of cinnamon in my coffee, and have been regularly adding it to my coffee maker in the mornings when brewing coffee. I couldn’t figure out why the coffee filter kept overflowing and making a mess on my kitchen counter though, and it was ticking me off a little bit. 

Well. It turns out cinnamon is not water soluble. Putting it on top of the coffee grounds creates a barrier between the coffee grounds and the water pouring through the filter. After some digging around on Google, I figured out that tomorrow when I do this, I need to add the cinnamon to the filter FIRST, and the coffee second. 

The more you know. 

hello, friday

hello, friday. hello, first day of my weekend. hello, math homework i really need to work on. hello, first draft of james baldwin essay yet to be completed. hello, journal exercises for writing workshop that i need to complete. hello, poems yet to be written. hello, housework that i’ve let slide and build into a pig sty. hello, mountain of laundry that needs to be done. hello, refrigerator that needs to be cleaned out. hello, crochet orders that i still need to complete. hello, full and busy life that i live. i am thankful and do not curse you, because to experience you is a blessing. hello. 

right now

this cup of coffee. this l.a. weather. the windows open. the front door wide open. the sun in my apartment. the sense of peace that comes with resolve and resolution. writing a poem i’m happy with. being inspired to write more. lalah hathaway on my spotify. the knowledge that even in adversity, still i rise. 

tequila and simply limeade

turkey burgers on King’s Hawaiian buns, sister, OJ, E-Dub and Shay. Syl in the background, cute dogs, plenty of weed, carrot cake, Caesar salad, crinkle cut fries, laughing, dominoes, singing off key, “You took that long to knock?”, the last friday of 2011

today was a good day

brunch with my siblings followed by shopping with my sister; home for a brief break and a shower and then out with my peeps - dinner and drinks followed by fellowship and drinks at my sister’s. also, the Laker game. We lost, but we are still the kings. 

i want to remember this day. it was beautiful inside and out. 

Sundays

Sundays are made for playing music, burning incense and cleaning your house. Relaxing after a full morning with your sister, you smile repeatedly thinking about all the things that make your life good right now. You are thankful, and you return this gift to the universe by reflecting as much love as possible to as many people as possible; it’s a contagious thing.

You remember that life is precious, and each day is a renewable gift; you vow to use them in a manner befitting their value - infinite. 

As “Oh I Think They Like Me” plays on your Pandora station, you find yourself doing a ditty bop as you move about the living room picking up all the things that remind you of this life you’ve built for yourself - library books, textbooks, notebooks, and skein after skein of yarn. You are grateful for the mess to clean and the space within the mess resides; you are happy that you have the mobility and agility to do the ditty bop.

You sip your third cup of coffee of the day, and you are thankful for that too; it is, after all, your drug of choice.

You remember that each of these things, these tiny little moments and secret spurts of joy are possible because you are possible. You remember this and you smile again.

You look forward to tomorrow. Monday - Your longest school day of the week, with classes until the afternoon and then more at night. You are grateful that you have the opportunity to do it all over again, and you smile again because you remember that you are doing it on your terms this time.

Lil Wayne comes on, and as you bop your head, typing on the wireless keyboard to your laptop, you remember that writing is a gift too, and you promise not to squander it.

You are thankful for the friends you have; they continuously inspire you and bolster you, moving you on to bigger and greater things.

All of this, of course, appreciated in the moments you have to yourself on a Sunday afternoon. Beautiful, sunny, music-filled and happy.

Sundays were made for this.