About to talk about HeLa

This month's book club book is The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. Tonight is our meeting. I loved this book so much, I can't stand it. It has changed my view of so many things...it's hard to explain. I've been anxious to talk about this book for weeks. Finally, finally, it's going to be discussed.

But now I'm getting scared. On the Meetup page, people are jokingly talking about bringing sangria because it's blood-like. Bringing cheese because it's "live cultures." I am so afraid that people are going to avoid the real issues of this book: racism, medical ethics, ignorance born of poverty, business manipulation. I'm also afraid because I'm the only black person in the group...which is nothing new.

I really hope people will be respectful. That they will not say stupid things. That they won't avoid the uncomfortable feelings by crude jokes.

I may sit near the door, just in case.

Welcome Back?

I had a wonderful conversation with my friend last weekend. Not only did we catch up on each other's...I wonder where one puts the apostrophe in this situation...lives, we talked things regarding our friendship and communication. I'm a big fan of doing that...sometimes I do it too much.

This conversation was initiated by the discovery that she had read a previous blog post. Since it had been months since I last posted, I figured people had forgotten about this blog. Apparently, RSS feeds never die...I'd forgotten about that. So she saw I had written and read.

I don't regret what I wrote. It's my blog after all, though I do wish I'd had the wherewithal to tell my friend in person what I was feeling. A personal blog, more than any other use of the internet, really brings to the fore the tension between public and private, the responsibility of the anonymous.

I say this to say that if anyone has an RSS feed on this blog and has returned to it, then welcome back.

How I Am

I'm having a great holiday season. Tons of parties, tons of food, tons of drinking...luckily all in potluck form so I'm not spending any money. Laughter, stories, bonding. For instance, I had one of the best days of my life with my friend: A day of skiing, two bottles of wine, Indian food, and talking into the night by the fire.

And my sister had another MRI yesterday. This time it was to take a picture of her spine to establish a baseline...do you understand what that means? That means they expect her spine to deteriorate and they need a "before" picture so they can see how bad the "afters" get. That idea twists my heart.

So though I'm having a good time, I talk about my sister's disease a lot. People know about it. They ask me about it. Even the one friend who still checks in on this blog (Thanks, darlin'), she checks in on me.

But there is one person in particular that I haven't heard from at all. She was the first person I called, sobbing uncontrollably. And all I've gotten is a Merry Christmas voicemail last week...which I returned and she hasn't.

This is something I've always wondered...does my strength and joviality imply I don't need support? I would think old friends, who have seen me at my weakest, would know I am not always that way. I would also think that even if they thought I was doing okay, they would check in to find out anyway.

Lessons #1-25 babillion: one can't control the actions of others; one can only control oneself. So I want to figure out how I can get the support from people that's right for me. I could just ask, but having a "conversation" about how I'm not getting what I need makes the issue about my friend when...honestly...it should be about me. There have been so many conversations we've had for hours where we've just talked about her job/life/boy situations. Don't get me wrong, I love those talks, and it's not like it's the only type of conversations we have.

She does call me when she wants to talk, so in a way she is asking for help. But I don't know if I need to talk about my sister's MS per say. I guess I just need to know that my friends are thinking of me and care about how I'm doing.

But that's not very much to need. Maybe I shouldn't be that upset over the absence of a phone call or two. Or maybe I do need to talk it out and I just don't know it. Perhaps a well-placed phone call would release a floodgates of emotions that would stop the achy, twisted feeling in my heart. I mean, I'm reusing this old ass blog no one reads anymore, so I must have something to say.

I don't know...perhaps this whole idea exhausts me. Sometimes I get tired being proactive, of being the person to say what everyone is thinking but no one is willing to say. That's probably not going to stop, though, so what changes should I make?

I just want someone to read my mind every once in a while....I just read that sentence and it cracked me up!

Don't Tell Anyone

I feel comfortable saying this here because few of my friends from school know about this blog. Those that do know will probably agree with me! I've been feeling this way for some time, but it really came to a head this weekend...in a nutshell, my Harvard friends are boring!

I know, I know, I shouldn't be surprised. It is Harvard after all, mecca to the academic nerd. But last year, when we were all starting out, we partied like rock stars! Our weekends started on Thursdays: we went to happy hours, went dancing, saw plays and concerts, saw friends do improv, hosted parties, went to parties.

But something has changed. This year, we barely see each other. A person will throw a party...on Saturday night, mind you...and people will bail because "they have too much work." Now, I go to the same school they do and I can't imagine having so much work that you can't go to a party on a Saturday night!

I didn't realize how strong my feelings were around this issue until this weekend. Friday was a beautiful day; Friday night was a beautiful night. I wanted to go out, but decided to stay in to catch up on some personal stuff. I did this specifically thinking that Saturday night there will be a bunch of people wanting to rock the casbah. Saturday night, my friend performed in a concert and invited me to meet up with some people at a bar. Perfect! I'll catch up with friends, we'll enjoy the night by going bar hopping in Harvard Square...very easy to do on a warm Saturday night. 

What happened?  Absolutely nothing! We sat in a very lame bar...which did have $3 glasses of wine...talking shop and then everyone left at 11pm. I couldn't believe it! Boston has had miserable weather since forever. This is the first time in months when it's been warm for more than 12 hours, and everyone is tired?!?

What really drove it home was I went to a bbq this afternoon at the home of a very old friend of mine. He and his family had about 20 people over: couples, single folk, kids, everybody. I met some really cool and funny people. As the night wore on and the families went home, there were about 10 people who still wanted to stay up talking and drinking and enjoying the fact that we were outside. After 7 hours, I finally left. You see? That's what I'm talking about. People who can put all this schoolwork shit in perspective and realize life is too short not to honor Mother Nature for granting us this great weekend. 

I have to say, I don't miss living in NYC in the least. It's far too crowded and fast and jaded for me at this point in my life. But I will say that New Yorkers know how to enjoy good weather. If I were back in the city, I know I would be out with old friends and/or meeting new ones.

Ah well...it is the choice I made. I'm thinking however, as I enter my third year of my doctoral program next fall, and don't have as many classes to tie me to the campus, that I'm going to really branch out and find friends with whom I connect on more than just the Harvard level...because that level is pretty uneven.

I Held a 4-Hour-Old Tonight

'Nuff said.

Change of Plans

I woke up today with a specific plan. Much of that plan had to do with tricking myself to get things accomplished...something I learned last week when I had my first appointment with my new academic advisor/therapist...long story that I'll explain later. I was going to put on my gym clothes before I went to my office hours so that I could head straight to the gym. I was going to spend my time during a meeting working on another paper.

But all that has changed...my very good friend is having a baby today, so all I have to do is be there for her. Simple, to the point, no tricks involved. Wish her luck!

What a Difference a Year Makes

As you may have noticed from my blatant absence from this blog, school has started up again. The library is filled with people and my days are filled with classes, meetings, and other such goings-on.

Per usual, I am busy and a bit tired, but other than that this year is so drastically different than last year.

First off, I'm 12 pounds lighter than I was last year. I honestly don't know what happened to the last 4 pounds...I haven't been very diligent keeping track of my points, but I still eat like I am (e.g., eating half a sandwich, ordering a side salad instead of fries, getting the cinnamon raisin bagel instead of the plain). And I continue to run as often as I can. I'm telling you that keeps me sane like nothing else.

Secondly, I'm at peace with my level of intelligence. I am a smart cookie and I'm firmer in knowing that than I was last year, even as I learn things everyday that blow my mind and make me question it all.

Thirdly, I'm taking an advanced quantitative methods course when this time last year the thought of stats made me cry. I'm going to be a teaching assistant for a stats course in the spring, for goodness' sake!

Fourthly, I am officially all right regarding the break-up with TM. With the support and straight-up bullying of friends to make the right decisions...for which I am eternally grateful...along with my own new found maturity, I have healed from that loss. I am so proud of myself for that.

Fifthly, I have found true friends here. Granted, they have issues up the wazoo, but so do I, and we're all crazy at Harvard together.

Sixthly, I'm spending a lot more time with Ella and that's nothing but goodness.

All in all, I like my life. It's far from perfect and even farther than where I want it to be, but it's doing just fine.

College Chums

I went to college with Santogold.

I'm not saying that in a boastful way. In fact, I'm kinda wigged out that I "knew her when." Even she admits she never saw herself doing this, and I certainly never did.

It's not like I haven't seen my friends and people I know make it big. On my latest Netflix rental, I saw an ad for a movie made by someone I partied with in Argentina; she helped me buy some sexy stilettos. My friend just published a book and got an article published in a national newspaper. I texted tuckergurl in the middle of Michael Clayton because someone else we went to college with was in the movie. I've seen my friends in national TV commercials.

Yet, for some reason, seeing Santi's weird video weirds me out. It's definitely not jealousy...I'm exactly where I should be. Ah, well...She's touring with Coldplay this summer, which is pretty friggin' awesome for her. And she got a blurb in the New Yorker. Even awesome-er.

Can Someone PLEASE Explain This to Me?

I just heard a story on "Weekend Edition" about Clinton's concession speech and the response of her supporters. Women, unashamed to say their name, said that they were not going to support the Democratic Presidential nominee, and might even vote for McCain. I went out with a group of white women yesterday, and they echoed this sentiment, saying things like "Hilary DID get the popular vote," and "Obama supporters could have voted Undecided for the Michigan primary." These Harvard-educated women were saying this with a straight face!

I had so many questions, but we let the conversation fall away to keep the jovial mood. Would they have complained that it wasn't a "clear-cut win" if Hilary had actually won? Would they be hesitant, even obstinate, in not supporting Obama if he were White? Are people so incredibly ignorant that they would rather vote for a Republican...after EVERYTHING we've been through for the past eight years...than see a Black man in the Oval Office? I would hate to believe educated, White women could still be so blatantly racist...so please, can someone provide me with another explanation?

On another note, it became very clear to me during the conversation with my friends yesterday that as my status as a Black woman in the society, I am a Black person first. The feminist dialogue does not speak to me at all, mainly because it is written by White people.

I Don't Get Videos

I'm up early this Friday. I don't have classes today, but I'm not upset. I'm just glad that I can enjoy this Friday off and not rush off to a group meeting or site visit or something.

So I'm watching videos. Things I haven't seen in a very long time. And I realize that I don't get them. How does a woman stop Freddy Rodriguez from killing himself by dancing in the Santana video? And how did she get a waitress job where she can take over the restaurant with her sexy dancing? All that hair flying around the food must be a health hazard.

And there's this video with the girl who plays Vanessa on "Gossip Girl" where I'm supposed to believe that even though she has the alcohol problem and is sitting in the passenger seat, the driver gets killed in an accident. I don't buy it. But I do think she looks better with straight hair...she has curly hair in the show...to make her more ethnic, I think.

And there was no way I was going to watch a video hoochie be all lovey-dovey to Sean Kingston, even if he's talking about how rough his life is. He's not attractive and not talented.

And is it just me, but does Natasha Bettingfield looks like she's 37? Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying she looks bad. I'm saying she looks too old to be referencing high school feelings in her songs. And she's definitely too old to have Sean Kingston featured in her multi-culti video.

In other news, my good friend, Angela came to visit me last weekend. We had a mellow weekend, but I really enjoyed seeing her face. I missed her so much! I wish I would have scheduled in more time with just her and I, but I'll visit NYC in January. P.S. If you haven't seen Gone Baby Gone, don't. It sucked.

In other other news, my semester is over in less than two weeks! Well, it's not over because I have finals due at the end of January...but I don't have anymore classes in about a week and a half. I know I sound all dramatic, but I really can't believe I finished and that I accomplished all that I did. I now know what a standard deviation is and how to get it. I know a basic overview of the history of urban education and how its history shapes its function today. I know that US colleges have a 50% graduation rate and that rate is continuing to decrease. I know how to write a reference list in APA format. None of these things I knew just four months ago. Crazy!

You should do that sometime...pick a time in the recent past and come up with all the stuff that you know now that you absolutely didn't know then. If you've got nothing...go start learning!

I Know People

TM always makes fun of me because every time we see a movie, I always recognize the actors or the director. Often I have a personal connection...albeit a weak one...with someone I see on screen...like one of the law students in "Michael Clayton" who I went to college with. When that happens, TM asks me, "When are we having dinner with Spielberg?"

This time, however, I have a very close connection to this filmmaker. Her name is Angela Tucker and she is fabulicious! Check out her very cool short film...visit it early and often!

Minor Earthquake

I'm in the library right now working on my first "real" paper of the semester. Not my first paper of the semester, mind you...more like my tenth...but the first one that is actually inducing anxiety in my classmates and me.

Anyway, I just heard word that the first of the first year doctoral students (or D1s) has withdrawn from the program. I say "first" because I'm trying to keep it real...there will probably be more. One of them might be me, for all I know. This program is officially no joke. If you are not disciplined, you will not make it. There is just too much to do. And in order to maintain a semblance of a life, you must be diligent and super efficient.

Still, with all of that said, the fact that one of us is no longer going to be in our core class tomorrow is creating a sort of...effect. People don't not go to class, so when someone isn't there, you feel it. Apparently, she left because of personal reasons, but still...there is a hush every time someone speaks to it. Ultimately, I know she will be fine. The majority of the world don't get a degree from Harvard and live to tell the tale, but you wouldn't know from the reaction of my classmates today. It's as if she died. Me, I'm more worried about the underlying reasons for her decision and if they were worth it, but I guess I'll never know.

Unfortunately, I can't think about it too much right now...gotta get back to my Econ paper.

Saying Goodbye

So...I've begun the process of saying goodbye.

I have one week left as a New Yorker. Next week, TM and I head to Colorado for a vacation and then we're driving back to the East Coast and via a roundabout cross-country trip. Though we'll be back in Brooklyn to load up the truck, I doubt we'll even spend the night. That's why I consider these to be my last days in the city.

I know I'm not going to live in this city again. If TM and I stay together, we'll go West after I graduate. If we don't, I'll go where my career takes me...just not here. I wasn't kidding when I said I'm done with New York. I mean, I'll visit and all that...but that's about it.

TM and I had a really fun going away party a couple of weeks ago. It was there that I was able to have private moments with some wonderful people and say farewell. I also haven't had those opportunities through the actions of others. I've thought about it and, to me, those missed chances are the same as goodbye, just in a different way. Clearly, if connection can't be made at this point, then it's not going to happen in the midst of a doctorate program hundreds of miles away.

Perhaps I'm being dramatic...as I have been wont to do...but I've realized there are certain people in my life I don't expect to ever see again. This saddens and angers me a little bit. But I am reflecting on how I contributed to this expectation and choosing to focus on all the friends that have braved long film shoots, sinus infections, and last minutes changes in venue to show their love. It is Quite Appreciated.

More Death and Other News

So TM's grandmother died in the middle of last night; it was expected, but it's still sad. He's seems fine, but when he's anything other than totally upbeat, he folds into himself. I can tell he's trying not to cut me out completely, but I can also tell it's a struggle. I'm learning to simply let him know that I'm here for him and let him be.

I've been struggling with a slight drowning feeling this week. National traumas and those that have affected people close to me have left a mark on me as well. It's strange because I don't think I reacted this strongly when my own aunt died. Maybe I am reacting this strongly to my aunt's death. Maybe this is how I'm able to deal...pour my condolences onto others.

I have to say this is the first time that I have felt this blue and not completely freaked out that I am becoming depressed again. I think I've gotten a LOT better at reading my emotions. I also think of Angela's advice: basically, she doesn't critique her emotions when she gets down...she just listens. And does what she wants/needs to make herself feel better. I think that's what I've been doing this week.

In other news, Ella is going for an extended vacation this weekend. My parents are coming for a visit and they are taking Ella with them so I don't have to put her in a kennel while I'm in Jamaica. It's not quite real to me yet. When it does become real, I will cry. Goodness gracious, I love that dog!

The wedding is almost here! I'm so excited! I can't wait for this whole thing to be over. I've learned through this process that being a maid of honor is a BIG deal. You not only need to be a very good party planner, but also a therapist, a personal assistant, a dry shoulder, a jester, possess nerves of steel and a lot of disposable income. Because a bride is a creature all her own. I was lucky that this wedding would never be on "Bridezillas," but she definitely had her moments. I'm not going to say something stupid like, "I'll never be like that!" But I think it should be a prerequisite for all brides to be a bridesmaid at someone's wedding...an internship of sorts.

I am officially running out of weekends. TM and I leave for Massachusetts in less than three months. There are certain friends who have invoked the NYC motto: "Let's get together." The problem is, I need to plan those get togethers. Because I don't have a lot of time and we have a lot to do. I keep trying to tell these certain friends this, but it's hard for them to get out the NYC mindset of complete-avoidance-of-definitive-plans- in-case-something-better-comes-along. Ah well, I plan on throwing a going away party in the summer...I guess I'll see them there.

"One Cloud Feels Lonely"

Maybe other bloggers out there will recognize what I'm about to talk about...you know when stuff is happening in your life and you want to blog about it, but you just don't have the energy. Not because you are extremely busy or anything...you're just not in the right head space to write. That's where I'm at right now.

However, this has been a doozy of a morning and I just need to let it out. The quote above is from Watership Down by Richard Adams. The main characters are rabbits; it is an amazing book. Epic and adventurous, yet still intimate and touching. Anyway, the narrator says humans use the saying, "when it rains, it pours;" that's inadequate. Because often times, it does just rain. Rabbits say, "one cloud feels lonely" and that's a more appropriate saying when discussing the onset of bad news.

That's what I'm feeling this morning. I got an email from a good friend of mine...the friend that kicked my ass into getting rid of my credit card debt...that her brother died last night after a painful battle with cancer. Fucking cancer! Then I got a text message from TM telling me that he may have to fly home soon because his mother's mother is dying. Literally, I was texting my friend my condolences when I got the text from TM.

I firmly believe that death is a part of life. However, sometimes it's just overwhelming. It just feels like there's so much death around us.

Tight Lipped

Before I begin, I just wanted to say that I hosted my second Christmas dinner last night. I think it went pretty well. Everyone got drunk from eating too much, no one got sick from drinking to0 much, and people felt comfortable enough to stay till 1:00 am. Ella and I got to spend our first Christmas surrounded by friends new and old, and one kick-ass newborn. AND...I woke up this morning with only six wine glasses to wash because I had periodically been washing dishes all through the evening.

I learned yet some more things about myself yesterday:

1. I've got one twisted sense of humor. The older I get, the more twisted it seems to get.
2. I am extremely Type A when it comes to entertaining in my home. I don't want to be, but I just am. I thought that being Type A was just about being on a power trip. But it isn't. I would just to get really anxious if things weren't being done a particular way. So my Type A-ness would kick in because it made the anxiety go away...and I felt better. And it was very specific to getting rid of trash and putting unused item away. I just didn't want anything superfluous around while I was cooking. It was strange to recognize that.
   

On to my post.

I've spoken before about my silence regarding my love life. I'm contemplating whether or not it is self-imposed. Clearly, I'm not all that comfortable gushing about most anything. Maybe it's some warped sense of not wanting to make other people uncomfortable. I'd hate to be one of those women who only talks about their boyfriend, yet there is a reason that phenomenon exists. In the early stages of a relationship, it's normal to be smitten with every little thing he does. It doesn't necessarily make you co-dependent, or moving too fast, or unrealistic...does it?

Perhaps I'm afraid my friends will say what I say to myself ALL THE TIME: Well, you felt so good about Ex and see how that turned out. If this doesn't work out, like all the other ones didn't work out, how stupid will I feel? Pretty.

I think I might be afraid that they'll say I brought it on myself. Which of course I did. Which of course everyone does when they enter a relationship and it doesn't work out. Unless the red flags were there from the beginning and you didn't see them. In that case, you REALLY don't deserve any sympathy. Which is what happened with Ex. But of course I didn't have the vision I have now, so there was no way I would have seen them then. Arggghhhh!

All I know is that I want to gush about The Mormon. I'm crazy about him. With him, I have had some of the best times I've ever had with a man.

We are both very comfortable having a moment and then analyzing that moment, so for the first time ever, I feel completely comfortable to be my overanalytical self.

He is funny, romantic, passionate, so sweet.

He is not afraid to tell AND show me how he feels about me. I've never felt so loved and he hasn't even said the words.

We've only been dating for a couple of months, but I felt we should have been together for Christmas. And we should have definitely been together for New Year's.

I am thrilled he is a part of my life and I am a part of his.

See? That wasn't so hard. So why do I feel bad? Eh...I don't know. I am going to try to be proud of myself for not letting that fear stop me from attempting to be present for this amazing experience.

Knocking the Wind Out of You

So the theme of this post is stuff that throws you for a loop. It was going to be a snapshot of things that really deserve their own posts...but I'm not in the mood to write that much. But then I got some very disturbing news and decided to change the subject. However, I still want to tell you about stuff that's been going on, so I'll try and reinterpret those events to fit within this theme.

1. I discovered that I was in love. Right after college, I had an "affair" with a man much older than me. I call it an affair...even though he wasn't married...because it wasn't quite a relationship, but it was very dramatic and passionate. There were a lot of difficult phone conversations and meeting each other in random cities. We eventually outgrew it and remain very good friends today. He called me this week and told me that his wife is pregnant. I was so happy for him, and then I started to cry. The pain was so overwhelming I had to get off the phone. Through hindsight and a conversation with a friend, I discovered that I was in love with him. I had always tossed it up to post-graduation angst, but I realized that I was indeed in love. And a part of me still thinks he is the "one that got away." No wonder the news hit me like a ton of bricks.

2. I got my tattoo on Saturday. I planned this event, so it's not as shocking, however, it ended up being a lot bigger than I originally thought it would be. I put it in a discreet, yet accessible place, but I didn't expect to enjoy the size of it as much as I do. I was going to post a picture, but I think that's blogging TMI. Trust me, it's really beautiful...even if it's three sizes bigger than my first one.

3. I had a really difficult conversation with a friend last night. It turned out wonderfully, but I shocked myself on a couple of fronts. One: I was very clear about my boundaries and expectations in the friendship. I have never done that before...with anyone. It scared the shyt out of me to be so direct about my needs, but it felt good at the same time. Two: this friend is going through a really hard time and I told her straight out that she should get help. This was shocking to me because usually I would try and be her "friend-therapist," but I knew that was not the healthiest option for either of us. I was also scared that she would resent me for the suggestion. Luckily, she didn't.

4. One of my best friends just called me and told me that one of her oldest friends, and a resident of mine when I was an RA in college, was convicted of fatally stabbing two women in February of this year. He killed his ex-girlfriend by slitting her throat, then killed her sister when she was about to walk in on the crime scene. He confessed to his fiancee and to a friend. Between the two women, six children have lost their mothers.

Now I know a rapist and a murderer. An old family friend date raped a friend of mine in high school. It was a horrible time because I had known him since I was little. Eventually, he was shipped to Texas to live with his father; the only contact I had to him was through his mother. He was killed by being a bystander in a drive-by shooting in 2001.

"Giving Flowers While They're Alive"

My Aunt Polly told me that during the wake of my grandmother seven years ago. I was offended by all the people coming up to my mother saying how much they loved my grandmother when neither Grandma nor my mom had heard from them in decades. They had a right to be there and mourn her passing but don't be fake about it, was what I thought. Polly said that the key was to give flowers to people while they're alive, because they are of no use to someone when they're dead. I've been trying to live that saying every day. It makes it so much easier to give compliments and not feel weird or exposed. I'm just giving flowers while they're alive.

I say this because a good friend of mine has been quite supportive of me lately. It's not about supporting me through a crisis or anything...she's just been there, you know? So, just in case I haven't said it as much as I've thought it, I want to let her know that I notice the support and I really appreciate it.

Daphne's Shout-Out

I promised one of my bestest friends that I would praise her on this blog weeks ago and I am just getting around to it. My bad...

She shared with me the secret of getting rid of acne in record time. You do not need to buy expensive treatments from a chi-chi salon. All you have to do is buy Neosporin and use it as a spot treatment. You don't even need to buy the name brand, you can buy the store brand version. It's fantastic...it cuts the shelf life of zits by at least half! I'm so grateful to my friend, Daphne, for showing me the light to clear skin.

Thank you, Daphne!

Please Watch TV Tonight!

I know it's the first day of summer and instinct is telling you...Go outside! Eat and drink overpriced cocktails in an outdoor cafe! But I beg you...

DON'T DO IT!

Instead, watch a thrilling and beautiful documentary tonight on PBS entitled, Beyond the Steps: Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater.

Actually...I don't know first hand that it is thrilling and beautiful, but Tuckergurl saw it and she has a very good eye for documentary...since she is a woman who works in the medium. So I trust her unbiased opinion implicitly.

Actually...her opinion isn't exactly unbiased since she was the Line Producer on the film. Nevertheless...she is also a person who is brutally honest, so if it were crap, she would tell me. And she didn't say that at all! Instead she said it was thrilling and beautiful. And so for that reason ALONE, I am going to watch it.

Actually...it's not for that reason alone. I'm also going to watch it because I helped make the movie in a small way. Last year, when the production crew needed to get to the airport...I'm not going to tell you why. You'll have to see the movie!...I was able to get them out of a pickle and get them to JFK in plenty of time. It was a blast, and I got to eat at an Olive Garden!

So the moral of this post is...just in case you've lost track...is that you should tune into your local PBS station tonight at 8pm and watch a beautiful and thrilling documentary about the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater. Then, go and drink overpriced cocktails outside.

P.S. I dedicate my use of all caps and bold lettering to The Hum Drum Chronicles.