This Shit Right Here, Son!

This hoodie right here is giving me life. It's just the sort of eye candy a girl needs to get through daylight savings, the middle of the week... and being poor. Okay, actually, maybe I need more than a picture of a bad-ass hoodie to get me through poverty. But you get my point.

We Came. We Saw. We Boomed.

Remember a few weeks ago when I told you about the Boom Girls shows that were going to be poppin' off in Stockton and Oakland? Well, them joints happened and it was fire. Folks were hospitalized for smoke inhalation. We burned it down, pyromaniac style. And that's not me bragging. That's me telling the truth and also testifying to how much of a blessing it was to be able to collaborate with women that I consider to be my sisters. Despite hectic schedules and individual responsibilities, we came together, worked hella hard, created some wonderful art, and had the honor and privilege of inspiring so many people. I was honored to share a stage with all of these women.

It was an amazing surprise to have Sonya Renee join us for our Oakland show! We were not at all expecting her, however, she was just what we needed to make our crew [somewhat] complete. Pony Jones, and Ebony Janice (our beloved, seriously missed East Coast Booms) could not be there with us, but they were present in spirit, pursing lips and sassing all up and through.

If you missed it, I don't even have any words for you. I mean... dang! That just sucks. However, we may be showing up again on a stage near you in the not so distant future, so stay tuned. Thank you, Tama and Aaron Brisbane, and The Saint from Pierced Ear Poetry in Stockton. Thank you Nercity and the entire Golden State Slam family. Thank you, Chas and the Jackson family for letting six crazy bitches stay at your house and run up your water bill. Thank you Bay Area poets, for all of your love, inspiration and support. Thank you Brandon Caffey for the awesome pictures! Thank you to the videographer, who's name I can't remember. And mostly, thank you, lovers of the word, for coming out to hear us and for receiving us, for laughing, for clapping, paying (attention and money), chatting, hugging, following on Twitter, friending on Facebook, and just letting us be in your face. Without you, we would just be talking to ourselves... Which we could do... But it looks crazy.

Boom Girls, left to right: Judy Holiday, Jimetta Rose, Yours Truly, Tamara Blue, Sonya Renee, and Simply Kat

Color Struck

The fact that my fiance and I just cannot seem to pick out our wedding colors is just ridiculous to me. It may also seem ridiculous that I'm so determined to have the colors picked when we haven't been engaged a full 2 months yet and our wedding is actually over 13 months away. Listen. Let's get it poppin'. I need to know what the deal is. What is this situation gonna look like? I need to be able to envision our wedding day, at least a little bit... And the colors play a vital role.

We already know where in the world the wedding will be, though we don't have an exact location. We have a date. I need some colors. Our Save the Dates probably go out 'round about December or January and shortly after that, we're on to the actual invitations. I need to pick out dresses for my bridesmaids and maid of honor, flowers, everything. My Mama wants to know what she's gonna wear. I can't figure any of that out without colors.

We've talked, and talked, and talked... and talked about it. We've sat down and looked at colors. We've scoured the Internet. We've emailed each other. Still, no colors.

I have an idea of what I want to do... Sort of. But I'm scared it might be too strange. And then there's this epic list of all of the colors I don't want and/or don't like. Then there are all of these parameters that the color story needs to fit inside of (at least in my own neurotic mind). It's a tropical destination wedding in December. Season versus location. They sort of clash. So, I could do brights, but that doesn't make sense to me in fall. Arrrrgh!

Fiance thinks I'm over thinking. I probably am, but that's how I roll. I'm very driven by aesthetics, so if things don't look right, I will be miserable. These colors that we [desperately need to] decide on are more important than my dress. Yeah, I said it. Listen, I ain't worried about me. These colors could go terribly wrong, but I know I'm gonna be cute, regardless, so my fresh-to-def-ness is a no brainer. Boom. Colors, come on.

Don't Do It Like That

In a previous blog entry, I briefly mentioned that a girl stole my house key. Some of you may know a little bit about that if you follow me on Twitter or know me in real life. But, for those that don't, I figured I would give you the lowdown on this triflin' child's lowdown behavior, since it's the sort of outrageous shit that happens in my life on a fairly regular basis. In fact, these sort of occurrences are the precise reason that I started blogging in the first place. I am both tickled and troubled by the fact that I seem to be some kind of foolishness magnet. [insert deep sigh here]

I also thought it would be a good time to properly introduce you to the phrase "Don't Do It Like That". This particular figure of speech was invented by my sister (and Maid of Honor) Ebony Janice and introduced to me by my brother, Chas. It's basically a derivative of the term "Aw Hell Naw"... but slightly more sophisticated and definitely more instructional. Whereas "Aw Hell Naw" is a reprimand, "Don't Do It Like That" is informative. When someone says it, they're basically saying, "Help me help you to help me help you... To not be a dumbass."

So, this summer, I had a spare bedroom, no job, and plans to be gone from my apartment for a few weeks, due to travel and cupcaking. Enter, Ashley Catharine McGinty. By some miracle (or perhaps by voodoo), she ended up being a member of the slam team that I was coaching and I sort of knew her from seeing her around in the poetry community. At the time, she was a pretty good friend of one of my besties (though, at this point, she's destroyed that relationship, once again, due to her persistent ratchetness) and she was looking to transition from her parents' house into her own place. The spare room I had was only going to be available for two months and would need to be vacated by August 31st. We agreed that she would pay half of the rent for two months (no utilities, cable television, or internet, though she would have full access to all of them) and keep it moving once September arrived. I won't get into the ridiculous immaturity that she frequented while she was at my house during the two months we agreed upon. I'll just say that I was ready for her to be gone before we were even into the second month.

When it was time for her to go, I was gone from my apartment and sent her a text asking for my house key. The following is the correspondence between Ashley McGinty and I, leading up to and after September 1st:

AUGUST 31, 2011 10:21pm

ME: If you haven't already left the apartment, u can go ahead and drop the key in the mail slot aftr u've locked up. Thanx so much.

SEPTEMBER 1, 2011 1:39pm

ASHLEY MCGINTY: Will you need it before Monday? I don't know that I'll be able to get it over there before that. Everythings been cleared out, I'll give you the key at bk if that's alright?

4:50pm

ME: I'm not clear on why u didn't leave it. If u cld mail it, that wld be great.

5:17pm

ASHLEY MCGINTY: Ok I didn't know if you'd be comfortable with it in the mailbox- but that's fine I'll mail it.

SEPTEMBER 6, 2011 5:03pm

ME: I didn't get my key in the mail today. Whn did you send it?

SEPTEMBER 7, 2011 5:03pm

ME: WHERE is my key??? This is 100% ridiculous. I need my property by tomorrow. Thanks.

ASHLEY MCGINTY: I put it in the mail I'm sorry if it's not there I don't know what to tell you.

ME: And whn did u mail it? Cause I definitely shldve had it by now.

ASHLEY MCGINTY: I sent it yesterday morning

SEPTEMBER 7, 2011 5:16pm

ME: WOW. Not Thursday whn I asked u to, after u didn't leave it whn u left? OK. I see. This is absurd. Ummmm, let's hope it shows up tomorrow.

Then I called her. She didn't answer so I left her a really great voice mail message in which I gave her the business. First of all, who holds onto a key that would give them access to property that they've vacated after their time on the premises is up and they've removed all of their belongings? Why wouldn't you leave the key? If you didn't know what to do with the key, why wouldn't you contact the person that it belonged to and ask them what they wanted you to do with it? [I'm so confused! Insert Ricky Bobby Hands here] Second, if I ask you to mail it, why would you take DAYS to do so, and then, apparently stick it in a regular envelope, slap a stamp on it and put it in a mail box? A key is something that someone of average intelligence would think to put in a padded envelope, take to the post office, and mail WITH TRACKING. THEN, when the shit hits the fan because YOU didn't handle YOUR business, you cop an attitude with me???

I then sent her the following email:

from Nikki Blak

to Ashley McGinty

date Fri, Sep 9, 2011 at 3:37pm

subject: Unreturned House Key

The fact that I still don't have my key (well over a week after requesting it) is just ridiculous. I'm completely confused as to why you would keep a key to a location that you have removed your property from, after you no longer have a right to access the property. I'm also confused as to why, when I requested the key, you chose not to return it to the property and deposit it in the mailbox as instructed and why, after being asked to mail it, you did not do so, but kept the key for several days following.

At this point, I have no way of knowing if you did infact mail the key. However, I do know that considering the fact that it is Friday the 9th and I don't have it, and you claim to have sent it on the 6th, there is a possibility that I may never see my key again. With that said, I'm looking at changing my locks, which you will be responsible for covering the cost of (though, judging from the way in which you have and currently handle your "responsibilities", I will have to eat that cost). After the past 2 months of a great exercise in patience and kindness on my part in response to your constant irresponsible/inconsderate behavior concerning my apartment, this has taken me to the level of "pissed off", just to be clear.

If you still have the key in your posession, kindly return it to me. If I have not recieved my key in person, via delivery, or with the aid of magic, in a reasonable amount of time, you can anticipate a bill from me detailing the cost of new locks and keys for my apartment. If you chose to ignore my requests, it will only further reveal your character.

-Nikki

There was no response. Then, I went ham on twitter.

SEPTEMBER 16, 2011 11:53pm

ASHLEY MCGINTY: I was at work and unable to answer your phone call which doesn't warrant your ugly rant via twitter. After hearing from various sources that you'd like to "put your hands" on me, what in the world makes you think that I'd be open to a face to face conversation with you? I offered to deliver the key in person, you preferred it via mail. It was sent Tuesday morning sept. 6th And I did not sign a contract, therefore I have no responsibility to pay for the changing of the locks.

ME: U didn't sign a contract, however, by taking a key from me (and not simply leaving it, which wld be logical), u created an obligation upon urself to return it. Honey please on the "ugly rant". And I'm not requesting a face to face convo, as I've never been interested in chatting w/ u abt anything at all ever in life. But until I have my key (or new locks from u) we do indeed have business, sugar. I'll see you around.

Ladies and gentlemens... There are many ways to do it. Ashley McGinty's way is not one. Not only did she not take proper steps to make sure that my house key was returned to me, but she's attitudinal and unapologetic about the fact that I don't have my property due to her own irresponsibility, refuses to make it right, and then wants to act like she's the victim in this whole situation. So, now I have to take her on Judge Judy to teach her a lesson.

Though, what I really want to do is act like this.

But I was raised right. So, I'mma be a lady. For now.

I Don't Even Feel Like It, But...

In re-dedicating myself to this blog (yeah, this one that you're currently reading. Hi.) I have self imposed a 1 post weekly, minimum requirement. Really, I should post more. More than likely, I probably will. But I have to, at the very least make myself accountable for 1 post a week, no matter what. No matter what's going on or how busy or sick or in love I am. And it doesn't matter what it's about, as long as it's something. Okay? Okay.

Well, today I don't even feel like posting. And it's not even because I'm just too daggone lazy. I'm actually really busy and more important than me meeting my 1 post a week requirement is that I memorize like 137 new poems this week. Okay, maybe that's a slight exaggeration. Five. But five poems is a lot! When is the last time you memorized that many poems? That's what I thought. So it might as well be 261. [insert hair flip here]

All of this memorization is in preparation for a duo of northern Cali shows that I am doing with a few of my fellow Boom Girls, Tamara Blue, Simply Kat, Judy Holiday, and Jimetta Rose. If I can get all these poems in my head (which I will, once I finish this post), they're going to be amazing shows. If you live in or near Stockton or Oakland you should definitely make it a point to be present at Pierced Ear Poetry Slam (Oct. 20th) and/or Golden State Slam (Oct. 23rd), as both venues celebrate their anniversaries and give a stage to a fly collective of women. Doesn't that sound like fun? Of course it does. And a night of high quality entertainment, such as the kind we're about to provide can be obtained for the low price of a $10 ticket at the door! Isn't that a bargain? Of course it is!

Listen. I'm about to go wad these pages of poems up into ear canal sized cannons and shoot them into my ears so that a river of poignant words can flow from my mouth at these shows. In the meantime, don't forget that I have an actual website that you can visit to learn about all of my poetry doings and writings. Feel free to help yourself to the open buffet of detailed info for the October Boom Girls shows, below.

October 20th

Pierced Ear Poetry Slam

Hosted by The Saint

Plea for Peace Center

630 E. Webster Ave.

Stockton, CA 95202

7:30pm

$8 in Advance, $10 at the Door

October 23rd

Golden State Slam

Hosted by Nercity and Jelal

Grand Lake Coffee House

440 Grand

Oakland, CA 94510

7pm

$8 in Advance, $10 at the Door

Why Cutting Up is NECESSARY

I have so much things to say right now. And when I have "so much things to say", I intentionally try to keep it brief and manageable, or else, we'll both be here all day. By now, I'm sure you've heard all about the Troy Davis tragedy. Yesterday, justice was not served, in fact, the United States' criminal justice system continued it's campaign of victimizing and terrorizing citizens. This is literally like a terrible nightmare and this morning when I opened my eyes, I was sad that I hadn't successfully awakened from it. I sincerely feel trapped within the borders of this country. I feel abused by it. I just want to run away. I honestly feel like I can't live here anymore.

Where am I gonna go? I have absolutely no clue. Because the truth is that though The United States of America is brutal, ugly, murderous, wicked, and unjust, it is not the only country that gets down like that. The United States' behavior is just a reflection of the people that live in it and run it. And since people are people everywhere you go, I'm afraid I will not be able to outrun human nature.

I am often perplexed by our attitude toward and treatment of others. Why do we hate and kill each other? From the time I was a young child and able to have real, cohesive, logical thoughts, I've racked my brain trying to understand humankind's predisposition to malice, and I have not yet been able to figure it out. We mostly act like wild animals.

My feelings on the Death Penalty have vacillated over the years between support of the concept (ridding society of "evil", reserving resources for those among us who don't commit heinous crimes, "making things right", "bringing peace to the victim's family") and believing that there's no place in our judicial system for such an archaic practice. Throughout my adult life, as I've matured and learned more about the history of my people and the history of this country, I've steadily moved away from supporting even the concept of "an eye for an eye"; not because I'm some super peaceful, new age, yoga mat toting, liberal, artist, but because, in a country where institutionalized racism is, as I type this, digging it's roots deeper into all facets of our social structure, and corruption is common place, there is no possible way that a person of color or of a lower socio-economic class can truly, fairly be tried for any crime and sentenced properly. If a fair trial by a jury of your peers cannot be had, then the option of capital punishment should not exist. It is dangerous. Innocent people will inevitably die.

I do not know if Troy Davis committed the crime that he was executed for. I wasn't there. He says he didn't. There was no real evidence to say that he did and no reliable witnesses. In the years since the trial, most of the witnesses recanted their statements. More than one witness said that they were bullied by the police into incriminating Troy Davis in the murder of Officer McPhail. More than one juror on the trial basically said that knowing what they know now, they would have never found Troy Davis guilty. There was entirely too much doubt to execute this man. And yet, that's exactly what happened.

Now, I'm always slow to shout, "RACISM" whenever something dumb happens. However, sadly, in this case, I must. Because, how is it that after all of this non-evidence was presented and these shady witnesses were cross examined, and the jury, eager to return to their regularly scheduled lives found Troy Davis guilty, did the presiding judge actually get it into his legally professional, logical mind to sentence him to death? If no one in the courtroom has an ounce of sense, at the very least, wouldn't a judge? This leads me to believe that there were other factors that influenced the judge's decision. I suspect that other factor may have been Troy Davis' color.

Then I read about a case just three years ago in which a white man was sentenced to death in Georgia after shooting an individual three times, beating them with a crow bar and a can of paint. He admitted that he did it, probably did the Harlem Shake while confessing, and then managed to have his execution halted 3 hours before it was to be carried out. This man, David Crowe, was spared and had his sentence commuted to life in prison. Oh. Okay. See.

But Georgia couldn't do that for Troy Davis.

And I'm not really in support of setting fires and turning cars over, but...

It is definitely time to start some fires and turn some cars over. Because, I for one am tired of the United States killing my folks. And if the judicial system and it's police officers will mercilessly murder Troy, and Amadou, and Suzy Pena, and wrongfully imprison Assata, then they will do it to my children, me, and you. And they won't stop there.

The conversation since last night has been about exactly what to do. I don't have that answer. I'm still trying to figure it out. Petitions are nice and are helpful in effecting some kind of change, but I'm really not interested in being polite about this anymore. I am dedicated to figuring it out. I encourage you to do the same. Maybe I will see you and celebrate alongside you in a place where our paths converge.

Seriously Folks...

'Member when I used to do all that great blogging back in the day? Yeah. I'mma do that again. Starting now. Seriously, folks.

Okay, listen... Don't look at me like that.

I been busy! I'm sorry, okay? I promise to make it up to you with lots of introspection, observation, verbatim text message, copy and pasted email conversations, and tomfoolery. Just watch. You'll see.

Okay, so let's start. "What has that maniac, Nikki been up to?" you may have been wondering. Well, I lost my job, ended a 5 year long on and off relationship with my best friend, rode some planes, got swept off my feet, fell in love, coached a slam team, went to Nationals, hosted a weekly open mic, continued the daily task of staying fly till I die, raised a black girl to the ripe old age of 12 years old, had a girl steal my house key, and got proposed to. Currently, I is gettin' married, lookin' for a job, growing my hair into a glorious, awe-inspiring mane, tryin' to get my stolen house key back, and writing, writing, writing. Oh, and serving the Lord with gladness. This here blog is going to be a part of that "writing, writing, writing" I just mentioned. It's gonna be so good. Mmmh, mmmh, mmmh!

Banner near Harvard Square in Cambridge Massachusetts, advertising the 2011 National Poetry Slam

So, now that we're back to being friends and you don't hate me for abandoning you anymore, I'mma letcha know... I'm old. I've been observing this lil' trend in blogging where everybody is tumbling all over the place. Listen. I ain't got time. I don't know nothin' 'bout none of that. I'mma stay put right here and push these blog entries out of my nether regions the old fashion way. 'Kay? I tweet. I Facebook on occasion. That's about all you're gonna get out of me.

However, I digress. What I really wanted to say is that I'm about as happy as a preggo Beyonce and I'm really excited to be blogging and sharing my life with you again.

On another note, one of the reasons that I felt that it was important that I return to blogging was because of the many social and political happenings of the past few months. There is always some mess poppin' off. I am by no means an expert in the fields of political science, economics, government, or sociology, but I do often have opinions, some of which might be interesting to folks other than my friends and people that I talk to on a regular basis. I spend a lot of time wondering if I'm the only person who feels or thinks a particular way about what I hear and read, and writing is a really productive way to process all of the information and [attempt to] make sense of the world.

For that reason, I find it very fitting that I am re-dedicating myself to my blog on the night before the scheduled execution of Troy Davis. If you don't know who this young man is, please take a moment to familiarize yourself with his case, develop an opinion, and perhaps find ways to be vocal about what is going on. It only takes a minute to sign a petition or make a phone call. You can contact the Chatham County's District Attorney's office at the following numbers:

Telephone: 912-652-7308 Fax: 912-652-7328

Hopefully, I'll be boasting about victory in my next blog post. In the mean time, let's all call, petition, tweet, email, pray, and make some noise to save this man's life.