a girl's whose name begins and ends with "a"

and you shake in your boots when you are confronted with the reality that you must speak to people,

DO NOT BE A BUILDING MANAGER.

gggggrrrrrr. fuck! sometimes, i wonder why people choose certain professions.

i guess i shouldn't be surprised, since my manager has been evasive from the get go, but damn!

i'm am not a jehovah's witness. i am a tenant. if my doornob falls off, or the washing machine eats my money and breaks, someone has broken into my apartment, or i am locked out, these are IMPORTANT and VALID reasons for me to contact you you dumb fuck!

i had gotten over these offenses, but most recently, i decided that i was going to give my notice for may 15th, and did so on april 15th. by today (april 26), i had not heard anything, nor had i seen a sign on my lawn posting the apartment for rent. i decided that i would (like i always have to) track down that evasive muthafucka and see what's going on. here's what went down:

i knock on door.

the dog hears me and starts barking.

stupid head tries to be discreet and creeps up to the door to peer out of the keyhole and hesitate before he opens the door. (i hear all of this, he ain't subtle)

he slowly opens the door and hides behind it, saying, "oh..hi."

i think this is not a good start, but wait for him to continue.

shithead: "so you have to rent month by month here, so you have to pay the full month's rent"

me: "but i moved in paying half a month"

sh: "ya, but once you're in, it's different. if they find someone they'll reimburse you".

me: "oh hell no. if i'm paying for a full month, i'm going to live here for a full month"

sh: "oh, ok. well, there's nothing that i can do about it".

me: "actually, you could have told me something in the two weeks that it's been since i gave my notice"

sh: "ya, i've been busy, i've been meaning to get to you"

me: (in my mind via how john cusack kicks tim robbins' ass in high fidelity) FUCK YOU.

and thus i have documented this in this here blog.

the moral of the story is, get a new fucking job.

angry cauliflower. i also have rage against a certain rapper's management.

is a learning experience like any other. it's nice when it happens gently, so as to not crush your dreams.

i fear i did that with a young vocalist who was coming short of her efforts. she contacted us to come to her show and write about her. it turns out she sang 2 songs that were covers, none of her own material, she had no ep, no album, no recording plans, no tour plans, no upcoming shows, and no website.

she was very persistant about how our piece was going. our writer was putting it off for a month, and i finally had to drag her to stand up comedy to drag it out of her.

homegirl (singer) hit us up again, with news of her "show", which turned out to be a showcase, and i fear i was too hard when i told her that because of the above, it was hard to write anything about her..but if she was prepared to provide a media pass or copy of her album/press kit, we'd be happy to try to oblige her. until then, not much i could do. heartless? maybe, if so, sorry.

i have to say that i have been rejected many times in my day, at times even laughed away, but it's nice when they laugh at your face and not behind your back. and every rejection is a learning experience unless you dwell there. sometimes you have to be there for a minute, but then you have to suck it up and move on. such is life. learn from it, or live it. forever.

never satisfied with rejection, or seeing it as a sign of failure, i kept on pushing, and as the confidence grows, the appletree grows. kanye-esque or not, if you don't believe in what you're doing, why should anyone else give a shit?

look at how many times i had to harrass the mag? now i'm doing covers and shit.

i put my ish on the line to apply to the alternative school of journalism at northwestern, even including a letter on my own behalf about how i needed to get a student visa to the us, but they wouldn't grant it if a school hadn't accepted me, and the school required a visa before they accepted the application. so, going for broke and quoting mos def...i did it anyway.

months later, i quote from the letter back: "the field of candidates vying for the 10 academy scholarships this year was the most competitive ever. We received more than 400 applications....I am sure that in our haste or short sightedness we have bypassed many gifted writers, you among them. I hope this minor setback does not alter your career path or deter you as you attempt to pursue an interest in long-form narrative journalism or the alternative press. Write on, and prove us wrong for not having the wisdom and forsight to select you for the 2006 Academy class."

calling out. i love it. and i can't even talk about Tara Henley who hit me up over comments i made about her work and read me anyway, talk about being the pro and getting over egos (which should be illegal cuz mine don't know how to act) and winning me over to the building side, reminding me that the beefing side of me died when i was 17 like brandy, you wanna be down?

don't think i'm going soft though, i'm always willing to scrap with the know-it-all types who may have the time to nit-pick over "facts" all day, but have no idea to talk to anyone, let alone this girl. brocolli.

i'm not a perfect woman, i'm trynna do, the best that i can...

but sometimes i just want to kick myself with my exquisite (kinky?) boots because i find myself stuck in the same cycles over and over.

grrr..just when i thought i had the relationship thing licked. and i do because i finally have someone who is understanding and caring and hot and funny and intelligent and hot and knows how to talk to me in that way that only men born in brooklyn can....but i'm not completely out of the red zone because i still find myself falling into the same traps of non-communication or mis-communication and the general bullshit of flux....but luckily the relationship box in my life is one that is unequivocally checked permanently and is one that offers good stimulation to my medula oblongata.

it's that pesky "what are you gonna do with your life" question that seems to be creeping up again, and once again, it centers around this move that i've been waiting and wanting to make but procrastinating on it for so freaking long that now i'm afraid. but too fucking bad, self, we're doing this and we're going to like it. for the most part, it's just not happening fast enough.

i need to have faith in myself as a writer and take the necessary steps to believe enough to invest in my career. this means i need to buy a computer. i need to freelance. i need to set it up so that i can actually get jobs this way because they're already coming to me.

i really need for this to be the last LAST time i do retail so that i'm not bursting into tears on the way to work again at the thought of touching or arranging soup in any state or capacity. the same way that i was bursting into tears on the way to arranging baby shirts. the same way i was bursting into tears on the way to arranging adult shirts and fucking ugly sweatsuits.

i'm so glad that people in montreal don't wear their workout gear outside.

i need to go home and listen to spaceships now.

just wanted to vent. i'm ok now. taking the strides i need to.

if a friend falls off tila tequila's myspace, does anybody notice?

i guess i was thinking about whether or not i'm a hater when i was in the office the other day, and my editor at the mag brought to my attention this vietnamese guy who does the fronts/grill of nelly and crew, who also happens to be a rapper. she thought maybe i could profile him, but i couldn't help but wince when i saw his face. the thing is though, that if i didn't see him, i would've thought of him as any other dirty south rapper, he sounded the same, had that flow, but it was hard for me to digest the fact that that music was coming from that face, especially because he was saying "that" word.

so, am i a hater?

i guess i seek to answer this beyond the obvious and unequivocal "yes" in response to that guy and miss tila "i'm a naked asian chick with a sword who made my whole career on myspace", but this is for the reason that these folks do nothing to dispel, rather perpetuate the ridiculous stereotypes out there of asians.

i realize that personal opinion has a lot to do with things, but why are there so many gay asian boys who just hate on margaret cho? the white asian boys eat her up with double fisting (who's your daddy?!) spoons, but the asian fags, they sort of dismiss her as being low-brow and ranty. hello?! what asian women did you guys grow up around that were not loud and opinionated?

and why do conscious, intelligent hip hop artists hate on kanye? yes, i realize that he's an attention hound, and i don't agree with everything he says or does (no, i did not throw up any diamonds in the sky for roc-a-fella but i will touch it with him, dammit) but isn't it enough that he's using his influence to bring attention to homophobia in hip hop, racism in the presidency, and welfare moms, education, diamond trade, etc, etc, etc.?

 even if people believe in the whole heirarchy of race thing (which i wholeheartedly do NOT), isn't it crucial to bring up the whole internalized racism thing, where part of the hate is jealousy? i think that these folks get the backlash from the very folks that they should be hitting home hardest with because they are getting PAID. they get raked over the coals for things that other more influencial people just get away red handed with, and for what? that's why white people just let us to our own devices, because they don't even have to kill us anymore, they're got us so programmed into killing eachother and bringing eachother down that they can just sit back and create more millions basing network tv reality shows on us and making sicker profits because we've provided the free entertainment and we've paid to subscribe for it too. talk about outsourcing and selling back finished products.

why can't we support our own? why can't we be inspired by folks who are more successful than us at any given moment? because if we don't, how can we expect to see any of our own successes if we're too indoctrinated in hate to recognize the love when it comes our way?

if i am not entitled to use the crab bucket reference, then i'll take oysters, as in, the world is mine and i'm about to EAT it. everyone else is invited to come along, but my greyhound (equalizer of people, by the 3rd day, everyone smells the same, bad) is leaving soon, tie your apron on tight, it's gonna be a bumpy ride. 

and i feel like i may be necglecting this blog...or that i am really polyblogamourous. the latest of my babies: www.trueurbanlegends.blog.com to set up my transition to montreal and highlight the best of in vancouver before i make like a tree and leaf.

so, i got the amazing news today that one of my bestest ever is getting marriage! her man and her have been doing the damn thing for quite some time now, but they've been holding off because of the costa rican government. CONGRATS, and she may not be the only one that will be making announcements, but for now, we'll keep it on the hush.

new york came to vancity over the past two weeks, and i have to say that it was a big relief to finally show how i roll to my baby, and how greatful i am to 1LUV (check the review at www.ricepaperonline.com for details) for showing us that soul music is very much small but mighty in this city.

thanks also to all the wonderfull folk that surround me that were able to show my man how lucky i am to have them.

it's funny what a small world it is, satan's closing in on my circle, the writer i'm trying to recruit next came to buy babyclothes from me two years ago, who knows how many folks are connex because of that retail experience, and i just found out that i was eating pannekoeks with the now head of battle axe in junior high. kyle, i was the one that took your tupac cd back in the day. me against the world.

anyways, gonna keep this short, got some editing to do...love you. arugula. (it starts and ends with "a").