Monday, September 24, 2007

Holy Married Mother of Khan

First of all I have to say I think the world ended on Saturday as I noted in my LJ.

Mainly for one reason...wait for it.

I bought a pink sundress.

You read that right. Your very own Bat Cave Dwelling Goth Gothity Goth Goth, So Goth She's Black bought a pink dress.

I blame Target and my darling Cookie for this transgression. Target because it was jammed in a clearance rack and marked down to 4.95 and Cookie because she has been big upping the cause of pink to me for years and it's wearing me down.

First she has me shaking my ass to Justin Fucking Timberlake now this.

What next?

I also walked away with another clearance dress, a cute black wrap style one that I discovered when I got home is actually a bathing suit cover but I can work with it. I also got one of their Long and Lean line tank tops that is absolutely soft and comfy and layers well with my big fucking pink dress.

I also (no I really did this) nearly hip checked someone to get a pair of black knee high knit socks. I should be ashamed but I'm not they are warm and cute. I also got some Halloween socks that are black with glittery silver bones on them.

I also managed to go to Sally Beauty Supply and spend less than 40$ on random shit I didn't actually need. That has to be some sort of record for me because I really only got things that I needed. I will probably talk about that morw later on.

I learned several things from my Target shopping. My ass+XL size panties=wedgie of doom. I bought a cute pair of microfiber booty shorts that I took off as soon as I got to work.

However my boobs+XL tops=snug nirvana.


Also I apparently entirely missed Celebrate Bisexuality Day. What the blue FUCK? Um damn man.

And what else?

Ah yes I was reading Ms. Oro's entry about African-American names and I have some stuff to say. not directed at her really just things to add in general.

First of all, my wonderful brown brothers and sisters of African descent. Please stop giving your children names of cars, shiny things, misspelled things, or words you think sound pretty or fancy but mean something terrible. Please right now.

I myself am a bit of a name collector. I love names. I love the meanings behind names. I think about these things a lot not because I am of the baby making variety of human but, because I am an author and I would say that 95% of the names I use in my fiction I use because I like their meanings.

Also call me a culture pirate but I like a lot of names that some people would say I don't have a right to.

In fact my name is an Irish boys name. These days Shannon (so says behind the name) is unisex but when I was a little kid the only other Shannon's I ever met were a.) Irish as in with accent still intact and b.) boys. I have been known (I can be very cheeky about race and I mostly do it to make other people uncomfortable) to tell people my name is Shannon because I'm Black Irish. Really Black Irish.

Most Americans I've said that to find it vaguely horrifying and give me that sort of wide eyed, OMDG what do I say look, the Irish people I've said it to thought it was hilarious. In fact in the SUPER Irish pub locally here called Kell's, me saying that within earshot of the bar got me a free Guinness that I proceeded to be unable to drink.

Then they laughed at me.

I will say that I've met a fairly large number of people from Ireland and I think because all of them have been nice people who I enjoyed, that has fueled my desire to visit there.

Um where was I?

Race, cheeky right-o.

Ms Oro said in her entry that people have/will ask her things as if "I'm the Black Chick Who's White Enough To Explain and I'm all, Dude, fuck if I know. "

I used to be that girl. I say used to be because, it only takes someone one time to ask me a question about Black Culture they will find out yes I find the idea that Black Culture is wrapped up in just Hip Hop as fucking offensive. I won't start foaming at the mouth here but, I will say that I have grown up to be Not the Girl To Be Asking Stupid Fucking Qustions.

Here's a little wound up of things I never, EVER want to hear about my skin color or my life.

  1. Why are you trying to be white? That has usually been said in reference to how I speak, what I read, how I dress, the music I listen to. My response as a youngster was generally a blast of nuclear type anger. Now I still get pissed but I can articulate how I feel about that. If you (and that you is directed at everyone, Black White whatever) think that my Blackness is only wrapped up in speech or music you have a sad and narrow view of what being a Black Woman is. And before you try speaking to me try stepping out of your little fucking box before, I punch you in the neck.
  2. If I ever hear anyone say the following after making a racist remark, "well I don't mean you, you're different." Actually no I am not. Just because I don't fit into -your- idea of what Black is does not diminish my blackness in any way shape or form.
  3. My skin color does not dictate my tastes.
  4. Before asking me any questions related to the color of my skin ask yourself very carefully if it is a jackass question.
The truth is I don't mind people asking me Black Questionstm it all depends on how you ask me.

For instance, I'm talking to a friend of mine who is yes, white and she asks me why it is I get so upset when someplace like Bartell's doesn't carry make up in my colors. The answer is very simple, if they are going to use the lovely in store displays with people like Halle Barry. Queen Latifah and other gorgeous brown skinned company, in theory those people should be able to shop there for some fucking foundation. So yes, I will get pissed off.

Things like that feel free to ask me.

Wanna know about my hair? Ask but do NOT EVER fucking touch it without me knowing you really super well or asking first.

Seriously that shit has actually happened to me in public and I almost stabbed that bitch. She "just wanted to see if it was real". Yeah. Behave like that and I will fuck up your shit.

Essentially what I'm saying here is the same thing I say about life in general, don't be an asshole. And if you behave in a stupid manner I will in fact be mean to you.

There are exceptions to the rule. I have met many people for whom I was in fact the first Black person they had ever seen in person. The first they'd met and spoken to so, in that case I will gladly put up with some really stupid questions and/or random petting and rubbing.

Case in point:

When I was in Japan years ago some girls followed me into the bath house and pretty much stared the whole time I was getting naked and washing up, then they sort of floated by me in the big tub until one of them worked up the nerve to reach over, touch my arm and ask in broken English if it was a tan. I said no and via some sign language, pop star names and vigorious rubbing of my epidermis, they learned that Black people are in fact brown even on the ass, and that it doesn't come off and no I was not Janet Jackson.

Also at random downtown Seattle I met a woman from New Zealand who'd never seen nor spoken to a Black person and we spent a whole afternoon together drinking tea, bookshopping and I snuck a wee smooch. I couldn't help it I am a sucker for accents and she was open for it.

So sometimes I can be nice really.

But a lot of the time I'm not. Really. No matter what race you are or what skin color you have, my rule stands. If you are stupid, behave in a stupid manner or just piss me off I will be fucking mean to you.


And Ms. Oro, you said you have a unique name. Please to be telling me and schooling me on how to pronounce it?

Pretty please?

Also anyone else who'd like to tell me how to say their name properly feel free to comment.



I think I'm done.

I had one of those antioxidant smoothies from Tully's and I think I might wet myself because it was super tasty and went through me like it was beer.

Homo Out.

PS...actually I will probably post more randomness later.

And again I have to blame Ms. Oro because I was looking at boots from the UK. DAMN YOU. Srsly.

If I ever do get to the UK I'm going to have to ship about 80 pounds of boots home.


PS what the bloody hell happened to my code?

Good lord Blogger is wanky sometimes.


orodemniades said...

If only foreign people would come up to me and tell me I'm the first black person they've ever met!

But no. The one ad only time it ever happened was with my white teacher, Mrs. Good. In 6th grade. Now, this lady was probably in her late 50s, possibly even early 60s, and the time was, oh, 1982? Yeah...I remember just nodding and going back to my English workbook. Because, there's just not a lot you can say when it's your fellow countrywoman, and you're 11.

I've had the skin rubby thing too, except the asker was a 4 year old girl. Her mom called to me when she was giving the kid a bath, and without even knowing what was going to come out of my mouth, I yelled 'It doesn't come off!'. Ah, good times.

What's really odd, what I never, ever, ever expected, was leaving my white town and my white state to go to college in Ohio, a "liberal arts" college that, alas, was not Oberlin but something entirely more...high school-y. Anyway, I never expected to be on the receiving end of reverse racism. Now, there were only 100 black students (out of 2400) and I was ecstatic - ecstatic! - to finally Be With My People.

Why yes, I was that naive. I spent about 6 weeks at the black tables before I freaked out and started hanging with my white friends at mealtimes instead. I liked many of the black kids, but boy, we were worlds apart, culturally. Nobody called me an Oreo or 'too white' to my face, but I saw how one girl was ostracized for dating a white guy and that was the beginning of the end for me. And when the Black Student Organization dissed my mom at Parents Weekend? That was it.

And yet, I still identify as black, even though my culture is white, and more specifically, white Immigrant. It makes for some strange conversations, and I wish I wasn't so completely disconnected from black culture even while I don't like so many aspects of the culture that I've experienced.

I dunno, maybe it all just comes down to assumptions and expectations. Like you, I'm comfy in my skin. I'm lucky in that the area that I live in is pretty well-read, a lot of people aren't ashamed or embarrassed to ask the tough questions of themselves or others. Or maybe no one dares say anything to me, who knows. Heh.

So, um, yeah. What was Japan like?

Nudiemuse said...

Um they dissed your Mama? Are you serious? Um no. Not just no but HELL no. That sort of thing would probably get me kicked out. Srsly.

I'm glad you didn't get the Oreo or Too white thing. I have more than I care to say out loud and my response has been the same for about the last fifteen years, I bet you can guess it starts with F and ends with you.

Japan, I should do a whole entry dedicated to Japan because going there absolutely changed my life. Granted I was a baby (15) but still. Japan was beautiful and strange, and you know what you have inspired an entry.

There's too much to say about it for just a comment.

sweetlikepoison said...

i think i love you. wonderful post.

--resident safe negress.

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