Hi, Stranger.

It sort of looked like I fell off of the planet, but I didn't.

I'm still here. Still ain't got no hair. Still swarthy. Still surly. I moved bunch of times, aged, but didn't look like it, kept on raising my kids, sent one to college and the other to kindergarten, and finally got my degree. I still write, but they are rarely poems, nowadays. I hope to be a conduit for that type of thing again one of these days and other forms of art but in the meantime, my focus is the social sciences, radical womanism, intersectional feminism, reproductive justice, anti-violent parenting, and disrupting and dismantling systems of oppression. My favorite color was pretty much always blue, but it went to green, then back to blue, and now, I'm fond of purple. My favorite flowers are stargazer lilies. I love apple pie and ice cream. One of my pet peeves is people that don't read. Oh, and anti-intellectualism. Sometimes I like animals more than people but I think a part of the problem with people is that we often treat animals better than we treat each other. So, I just try to treat people right and we'll see where that takes me.

I'll be back here in this space, sharing randomness on a fairly consistent basis.

If you feel like you want to observe my shenanigans pretty much day in and day out or interact with me, I'm on the Twitter, the book of faces, and the Instagram. If you want love notes from me, sporadically appearing in your email inbox as if by magic, I have a mailing list that you can sign up for. If you want to know where I "reside" on the interwebs, there of course, is a website, blakisbeautiful.com. And finally, if you would like to learn from and with me as I create tools to disrupt and dismantle systems of oppression, you can subscribe to me. You can donate to me. You can buy books written by me. You can wish me well, send me good energy, praise the creator for allowing us to live in community with each other, and thank my ancestors for their good DNA and protection as I'm on my journey.

I appreciate it all. Be well.

That New New!

Hey, boos! I'm hoping this blog finds you well and in your finest new school outfit. I've been busy, procrastinating on school assignments and raising the next generation of magical black girls. I also decided to get my life together and launch a new, fancy ass site. It's actually still a bit of a work in progress, as most life things are. I'll be adding new pages and content as the need arises. Oh, and there will be new product, too! Will it be a book? Butt implants? Who knows? Check back in the coming months and find out!

In the meantime and in-between time, I'm giving away one free copy of Uppity Negress to one lucky new email list subscriber, so tell a friend and if you're not signed up already, make sure you get it poppin'. Sign up on the website between now and Sunday, September 11th  2016 to get a chance to be randomly selected to receive a free book. The winner will be announced on Monday, September 12th 2016. Super simple. 

You're awesome. Take care. Let's chat later.

No Country for Brides That Don't Want to Wear Quinceanera Dresses on Their Wedding Day

The following is an email that I sent to my girlfriends a few weeks ago. As of today, less than 2 months until my wedding day, I still do not have a wedding dress. Jesus wept.

Ladies, today was the first day when I honestly felt that I would not find a wedding gown. And when I say, "would not find a wedding gown", of course I don't mean that I'm going to be at the wedding in some jeans. I mean, a dress that I would actually want to wear would not be on my body. After looking off and on since January (or thereabouts) and devoting most of my summer to actively going from shop to shop, trying on dress after dress, I've gone to every place that I know to go. As you probably already know, about 6 weeks ago, I took to the internet and went hard in the paint. I've explored having the dress of my dreams made. None of these things have yielded any desirable results. And the whole time, I thought, "I don't care. I'm gonna get MY dress."

Today, for the first time, I felt completely defeated.  

The thing is, there's this one Nicole Miller dress that I wanted more than that one Vera Wang White from a while ago, and even more than the first dress with the asymmetrical ruffled skirt that I tried on toward the beginning of this year... But I don't necessarily believe in "one dress for one bride". Similar to how I don't believe in one soul mate for one person. I know opinions (especially among women) vary on both of these subjects. And the soul mate thing is a whole other conversation for another time, but I'll just say that as a person that is decidedly more "head" than "heart", I believe that logically, math dictates that there can never be just ONE of any possible match. I could be happy in a number of dresses, I'm sure. I just have no clue as to where those dresses are.

At this point, I am about 97% sure that I'm going to end up in a dress that I don't care about, don't care to see, document, preserve, or think about when the wedding is over. Unless awesome dresses start raining down from the sky. This is sad, because though I was confident that I wasn't going to do the bridal cry when I found the dress that I wanted to wear, I at the very least wanted to like what I would have on. I guess life isn't fair.

All of that is to say, I suppose I'm still looking, 'cause, I can't wear jeans. I mean, I could. I probably should. But, anyway. Because I'm completely over looking for a dress, probably permanently underwhelmed, and just ready for this to be over, I'll probably be asking you for your opinion more than ever. Since my idea of what is attractive clearly isn't shared by bridal gown designers, manufacturers, retailers, and wearers, I have no idea of what "looks good" anymore. It's all ugly, white, and beaded, to me, so I'm just trying to find the least ugly of the bunch. I guess it's sort of like adopting a puppy.

100 Thousand Poets for Change at A Mic and Dim Lights

This Thursday, September 27th at A Mic and Dim Lights in Pomona, I will be performing along with a small but deadly gang of talented poets in 100 Thousand Poets for Change. It's a special night of poetry organized by David A. Romero in conjunction with the grassroots educational organization, 100 Thousand Poets for Change. The organization was originally conceived by Michael Rothenberg and Terri Carrion, as a worldwide set of events to take place either simultaneously or at different points throughout the year. Future plans for the organization involve raising funds to help poetry, music and other arts organizations world-wide organize peace and sustainability events.

The evening promises to be inspirational and memorable, thanks in part to an opening feature set from Mic and Dim Lights founder and host BessKepp and music provided by in house DJ, JB. I'm excited to be a part of this event and stand in solidarity with a diverse group of poets around the world, gathered to promote serious social, environmental, and political change. I hope you'll join us.

A Mic and Dim Lights Presents 100 Thousand Poets for Change

300 W. Second St. 

Pomona, CA 91766

Thursday Sept. 27, 2012

9pm

$3

The Cost of Stupidity

I got this out of my mailbox the other day:

Let's talk about this. First of all, I haven't been a customer of Southern California Edison in over 6 months. In March, I moved to a part of Los Angeles that they don't provide power to and therefore had to discontinue my service with them and take up with the Department of Water and Power (who I hate, for good reasons that I don't have the energy to get into). Southern California Edison sent me my final bill, probably in April. I paid it. We're done. Sooooo... what the hell is this?

Second: I don't even have an account with them. It was closed in April. So, again I ask... What the hell is this? Third: Even if I still had an account with them, in the span of six months how would I manage to only owe them .$57? FIFTY SEVEN CENTS. And that is the total that they arrived at after a $.06 discount. Wait a minute. This is a joke, right?

So, wait. Not only do I mysteriously owe them the absurdly minuscule amount of $.57 on an account that hasn't been active for half a year, but they were generous enough to apply a discount to an amount that was so important that they had to generate a bill, utilize good paper and ink, and apply postage so as to collect these funds. 

This reminds me of the time a few months ago when AT&T was sending me bills in the amount of $0.00 for months after I had canceled my internet service. These utility providers are like pushy ex-boyfriends who can't accept that you don't want anything they have to offer anymore. I don't have any energy for harassment from companies in the form of false bills, unnecessary paperwork, and junk mail. Please, go die in a fire.

The most ridiculous part of this entire scenario is that it probably cost Southern California Edison more than $.57 to send me this stupid bill. My plan is to call them up and do a dollars worth of cussin'. 

When You Wait for 45 Minutes to be Interviewed for a Job

Is it just me, or is it rude as hell for potential employers to schedule interviews with applicants for a certain time, and then be ridiculously late? I've been on 2 interviews lately where I showed up at the agreed upon time, only to experience a significant wait.

This one company was doing the most when they had me fill out all kinds of paper work, answer essay questions, beat the kids and mow the lawn, with these crazy wait times in between all of the activities and obstacle courses. I began to wonder if this was a Fortune 500 company, or if I had inadvertently walked in through the wrong door, into the county building. Honey, I was waiting, and waiting, and waiting. And then, they brought my ass back for a second interview (which was really the 3rd and 4th at this point)... and had me waiting again! And they had the nerve to not hire me. Rude asses.

Yesterday, I showed up to a Beverly Hills adjacent office for a 10 a.m interview, and ended up sitting in the lobby for 45 minutes. Come on, ya'll! The heifer that was supposed to be interviewing me came strutting in at about 10:40 a.m, in bermuda shorts, weave all windblown, sippin' on a Starbucks frappuccino. Ma'am. Meanwhile, I had a parking meter that wasn't going to stay fed forever and a child that needed to be picked up from an early dismissal school day across town. Had I gotten a parking ticket or been late to get my kid, I would've been livid. Fortunately, the interview was pretty fast, the vibe was good, and all ended well.

However, I'm leery of employers that are apparently so disorganized, or so disinterested in the fact that you may have a busy day as well, that they can't honor interview times that they have specified. I understand that sometimes a meeting will run late, or you get backed up with your interviews. I've actually been on the other end and know that it's difficult to manage a regular work day and add to the chaos with a parade of applicants. But, that's not really my problem. Similar to how it wouldn't be their problem if I couldn't get my affairs in order in a way that would allow me to show up to my interview on time. There's no doubt that had I come Naomi Campbell cat-walking into their office 45 minutes late, I would have been informed in a very stern manner that I had forfeited my opportunity to interview for the position.

I understand that I'm trying to get something [a job], and they're providing it [employment], therefore it places them in a position of "power"... But let's be fair. A 10 minute wait is respectable, 20 minutes would be acceptable, 30 minutes is questionable... But 45 minutes is unforgivable.

Whenever possible, I try to arrive early to interviews. It is out of respect for people's time, and also because I want to show that I am responsible and can be trusted to exceed expectations when it comes to reliability. I want an employer to take the same care. Try to impress me. I've turned down jobs before, so this isn't a one sided situation! I'm not only out her tryin' to get chose, but I'm choosing. 'Cause if you can't be on time for an interview, what else are you gonna be late for? I can't have anybody dragging their feet about my paycheck or my benefits. No, baby. In the words of Sweet Brown, "Ain't nobody got time for that!"

How Childish Liberals Helped Chick-Fil-A Have "The Best Day Ever"

I don't even know where to start with this Chick-Fil-A foolishness. I'm not sure if I find it more absurd that so many people that consider themselves reasonable and intelligent allowed themselves to get so upset by one person's opinion, or that they didn't see the inevitable outcome of a weeks worth of free advertisement, thanks to their non-stop griping. Thanks to the internet backlash concerning Chick-Fil-A COO, Dan Cathy's statement against same sex marriage [confirming what we should have known about a fast food chain that is so holy and devout that they shut their doors on Sunday to observe the Sabbath], the company, reports that yesterday was a "record making day". I said this would happen.

Listen. This is just as much a "Freedom of Speech" issue as it is a matter of Civil Rights. As a person who believes that same sex marriage should be legal in every state, I think it's ridiculous that we would expect someone to lie when asked about their own beliefs. Was he supposed to shrink back and not express his opinion? His Christian faith dictates that he should be bold. Clearly, he has accepted the popular teachings that interpret several parts of the Bible's scriptures regarding homosexuality to mean that it is a sinful practice. Cathy is only in support of "traditional marriage". It's his opinion. Just because someone thinks or believes something doesn't make it fact... But judging from the way so many people reacted, you would think that maybe they feared he might be right and God's judgement would rain down on them at the next Pride parade. If you ain't scared, then why do you care so much? Why validate the wacky imaginings of someone that doesn't know what they're talking about with a new, snarky status update and clever anti-Chick-Fil-A photos on Facebook every other hour?

People played themselves.

Oh, I know why. 'Cause he's a bigot and a homophobe and should be called out on it and ostracized and driven out of town with torches and pitchforks. Ummm, okay. I'm sure his mind is changed now, thanks to you vehemently disagreeing and refusing to buy a banana pudding milkshake from his restaurant. 'Cause you know how strong, negative reactions always work to change your mind.

I have news for you, darling: There will probably always be backward thinkers and bigots. You're going to need to calm down. Despite what should be a sufficient amount of years separating us from the civil rights and suffrage movements, sexism and racism still go hard. If I got worked up every time someone said something stupid about women or black people, I'd be on my 38th aneurysm by now.

I wish that as educated adults, we would have the maturity to be able to ignore fools instead of giving them a platform and a wider audience. Most folks hadn't even been to Chick-Fil-A before every smarty pants liberal yapped about it for a full week. Now, the place has a line around the corner.

I haven't been to Chick-Fil-A in a decade. Now ya'll got me wanting some waffle fries.

By all means, take your hard earned dollars to establishments that agree with you and your politics. If you can't stomach the stance of a company or individual for whatever reason, feel free to refrain from shopping there, eating there, utilizing their services, or purchasing their goods. It's your right. It makes sense.

But, what doesn't make sense is that most of the same people that rolled around on the floor about Chick-Fil-A will absolutely not stop giving their money to countless other companies and entities that are anti-LGBTQ. I get it. It's too inconvenient to change your entire life to match your beliefs.

Therefore, we will all still buy gasoline to keep our cars running (which comes from oil that comes from countries in which it is common practice to execute homosexuals), and we will all still buy goods that are made possible by the magic of child labor and sweat shop work, and so on and so forth. And we will concern ourselves with intermittent internet powered revolts and continue be good, virtual activists.

I decide not to buy from various companies all the time, for reasons that vary. It's rare that I talk about it, as there is no need for discussion. Do you, boo. We don't always need to know.

What we do need to know is why these sensational news stories and memes come around like clockwork and what it is that the media and government may be trying to distract us from. I wonder how much bullshit has gone under our radar since we've been fixated on one person's opinion. What great injustice went unnoticed as we were obsessing over 1 crazy person on a shooting rampage? In a world of 6,973,738,433, surely something else has transpired. I'd be willing to guess that somewhere, someone has been beaten to de

ath for being gay and perhaps a war rages that just this week, has left a fallen forest of bodies, plenty enough to fill a movie theater to the ceiling. It is not accidental that the media repeats the same news stories over and over again. Chances are, while we're all looking over there, something bigger is happening, right out of our line of sight.

I've heard and read more about Chick-Fil-A than I have about Anaheim PD's attacks on unarmed citizens in the past week. Let's address why it is that Jonesboro Police in Arkansas want us to believe that a young black man shot himself in the head while he was in their custody with his hands cuffed behind his back. Let's talk about why, perhaps in the amount of time it's taken you to read this, 4 people have been sexually assaulted somewhere in the U.S., only 2 will report it, and their attackers are likely to never spend a single day in jail. And while we're tending to larger issues, I for one would like to know how we plan on keeping the Earth inhabitable, since global warming pretty much threatens evict us from the planet in a couple of generations.

Someone suggested that, instead of keeping the name of a company that we hate in our mouths, we give the spotlight to local, struggling businesses that are important to us. I want local shops, restaurants, and community events to experience the "record day" Chick-Fil-A had. I want us to be real life activists and stay busy effecting change, regardless of how popular the cause is. As a writer, I want everyone to express their opinions and beliefs, even if I think they're wrong and don't agree with them.

Because negativity shouldn't be too much of a threat to positive, righteous folk.

You can look around and see that the movement toward marriage equality has gone too far to die out. It is only a short matter of time before same sex marriage is legal in every state, so the thoughts of an individual, or a group are somewhat irrelevant at this point. And they know it, too, which may explain their zeal. It's really desperation. You should relax inside and have a cold drink. It's too hot for all of this foolishness.

30 in 30

I'm posting 30 blogs in 30 days. 'Cause you know I can't pass up a writing challenge. So, just like with the 30/30 poem a day writing challenge that I do every year for National Poetry Month in April, I'm going to post a little something everyday. Except, this time, it won't be a poem, it'll be a blog. Exciting, right? And it comes just in time, considering the fact that I've spent most of the summer feeling defeated for lack of blogging. It's not that I have nothing to share... I'm just easily distracted. And lazy. And these daggone days rocket by so fast. And it's so pretty outside. So, yes. You will get a blog from me everyday in August. Enjoy it. I may disappear 'til next August after this month is done. I'm kidding! [insert I'm not all the way kidding face here]

Meet me back here, tomorrow for my first official post. It's gonna be hot like fiyah. Or maybe, tepid like faucet water.

Because My [Soon to be Former] Landlord is an Asshole

February 10, 2012

Dear [Dumb Ass Landlord That Shall Remain Nameless],

As per the phone conversation that we just had a few minutes ago, I am sending you this email as written notification of termination of my tenancy at [address]. I was very disappointed to hear that you may have a problem with me vacating the apartment by the 10th of March, instead of the 1st. As I stated, had I known on the 1st of this month that I would be obtaining a residence elsewhere, I certainly would have notified you at that time. Also, I have not noted where it states in the lease that my 30 day notice must be given on the first of the month.

Obviously, it goes without saying that it is tradition that an individual would serve notice of their plans to vacate a property on the first of the month. However, in this case, unfortunately that was impossible. One would think that it would actually be beneficial to the owner of a property to have a tenant vacate within a reasonable amount of time after the first, as it would mean that the unit would not have to stand unoccupied for an entire month. It is extremely realistic that you could show the unit to a prospective tenant on or shortly after the 11th of March and have them move in by the 1st of April! Or even the 15th! That actually means more money for you! And yet, you are unhappy.

Based on our previous interactions and my knowledge of your unyielding affection for money, I assume that you will be charging me rent until the 10th of March due to the fact that I am notifying you on the 10th of this month. If I am correct in that assumption, my rent will be prorated and fill your pockets to the tune of something like $419.30. And yet, you seem dissatisfied. This is nothing short of confusing.

I have found that it is impossible for you to be satisfied in most instances. It appears that we can never have an easy, simple interaction, and that is truly sad. From the very first day of my moving in, our business dealings have been fraught with tension. I look forward to lessening the obvious strain that I place upon your sensibilities, and easing my own mind. I have done my best as a tenant to be punctual, respectful, reasonable, and low maintenance. It is my hope that I have cared for your property well and that the next individual or family that occupies my current home will do the same.

Best,

Nikki

Added Ridiculum

This week, my fiancee and I launched our wedding website. Well, sort of. It's still missing some content, but it's a start. And as if I'm doing a spectacular job of keeping up with my own site, this blog, and my Blackplanet page, and er... uh, other social media, I've made more commitments. Not only have I decided to write a years worth of blogs for my wedding website, but I will also be contributing content to the new Golden State Slam site on a bi-weekly basis. I'm a busy sista! However, I am excited to have all of this madness on my plate. It'll keep me good and insane, just how you like me. Now, please excuse me while I go pull all of my hair out.

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.

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.

7/30

How I Signed Your Copy Of My Book

Dearest Adam, I
am still waiting to be tucked
away in your beard

Red Stories

Back in the very end of the old year (also known as 2010, also more specifically known as December) the amazing poet/painter/storyteller/photographer, Jaha Zainabu asked me if I would be a part of her poetry reading, Red Stories. I turned into a super nova, imploded, and then became a black hole. That meant, "Yes, please, and thank you," which I'm really glad she understood.

A short time after that, Kevin Sandbloom was also asked to be a part of the night, and momentarily, I ceased to exist. When I returned to... existing, I felt nothing but gratitude and elation. Jaha is a force and Kevin has the best vibrato west of the Mississippi. And I get to be 1/3 of this trifecta of kick-ass. Please, don't be jealous.

Since that time, I've been recovering from my physical state of black hole-ness, regaining my ability to speak so I can do my poems ('cause you know black holes can't talk), and generally looking forward to being a part of Red Stories. Thanks to the swift passage of time, I don't have to look forward for too much longer. Red Stories is less than a week away! This is the part where you get excited, too. Here are the details so that you can join us for what promises to be a fun, moving, memorable night of poetry and music:

Jaha Zainabu Presents RED STORIES

featuring Kevin Sandbloom and Nikki Blak

Saturday, January 29 · 6:00pm - 8:30pm

3351 W. 43rd St., Los Angeles, CA 90008

$20 ($30 for couples... isn't that clever?)

The Way It Is

All I have for you is a half-hearted apology, and that's about it. I'm sorry. On June 6th, my only nephew, my sister's only son, my mother's only grandson was murdered. He was 19, had not yet lived, and so we all -- my sister, mother, nieces, his father, paternal grandmother, other aunts, and cousins and friends died, too. There wasn't much to care about, and the blog was the first to go. So... Sorry.

If I could have stopped going to work, I would've. If I could've stopped caring for Naomi, I probably would have. If I could have just stopped showing up for all of my other obligations -- Slam Team, poetry venue, showering, eating, breathing, I would have. And yet, these were the things that kept me propped up and prevented me from going completely insane, along with an outpour of love, support, and concern from friends.

His 20th birthday has since passed. LAPD has not even made an arrest in the case. Christopher Lee Johnson's blood still stains the concrete, blackened by grime, unrecognizable as blood by passerby. And here we are. I think about him everyday. He's the first thing. That was my baby, too. My friend. My video game partner. I was there that one time he got in serious trouble with a group of boys at school for fighting and I told him not to be no snitch. He lived with us, in our house for years and would always eat up all the food and forget to turn the shower off right. My mother and I fussed at him sooooo much! But he was sweet. That was my child. I adore that boy.

I had a dream about him probably 1 month after he was killed. In the dream, I just couldn't believe he was there, and all I could do was hug him. I would pull away, look at his face, and then hug him again. I miss him.

This wasn't supposed to be that blog entry, though.

I knew I needed to come back, I just didn't know when or how. Looks like today is the day. I am not a complete wreck. I feel alright most of the time, and life does go on, as they say. So, here we are. I missed you. I've had so many things I wanted to tell you. So much fuckery I haven't shared! I'm turning 30 this year, putting together another Slam Team with Judy Holiday, and of course, still making a general nuisance of myself in the lives of everybody that I think are stupid. So, we have some good times ahead. I promise. Soooo... Lehgo.

All Sorts of Poetry Things

Well, as you can see, my 30/30 turned out to be only 20 poems. I started about 40, and though I'm sad I didn't get to finish all of them, I'm glad I got to share most of them with you good folks. Thank you for reading, for your comments, critiques, and praise. I sure do appreciate it! I'll see you next April for more rapid fire poetry madness. In the mean time, we got lots of other business to attend to.

Thing Number One: Low key, my book came out. It's called Five Three and Rising and you can get it here, which leads me directly to Thing Number Two: I have a website. It is BlakIsBeautiful.com and I dare you to disagree. However, you should still feel free to stalk Blak Hand Side (the blog that you are currently reading), 'cause all the finest fuckery takes place here. "Fuckery" leads to Thing Number Three: I co-host an open mic (along side Judy Holiday... the poet, not the dead lady) every Monday night called Brass Knuckles that you should break your neck trying to get to. Currently we are holding Slams to form the 2010 Los Angeles Slam Team, so if you want to be a part of that in any way (slamming, judging, watching, making strange faces), then bring yo'self. If you want to know what we are doing at any moment, follow us on Twitter.

Aside from that, I have lots of features coming up all over the place. I'll be at Elevated in San Diego this Thursday, A Mic and Dim Lights on June 10th, and so on and so forth. Be sure to check the site for upcoming feature dates. Word to your Mom.