coffee and haiku

"v is for..."

verushka, vino, and viva glam v...

the lipstick, lipliner and lip glass i bought at the m.a.c. counter yesterday.

it was time for a change.  all my colors were beginning to look the same.

bold, dark reds.  i feel very sexy and very goth.

i think i'll buy those knee-high black timberlands i've been eyeing. 

movable type installation: day 2

I am working on a Movable Type installation; I am a control freak, and Movable Type caters to that. I love Typepad, and I have the two paid accounts to prove it, but Movable Type offers the type of flexibility I am looking for when it comes to designing a site. I am thinking out of the box here. There are so many ways to create a site using Movable Type. It is not just a blogging tool, it is a content management system. I am experimenting in ways to manage content.

I had previously looked upon the installation of the new Movable Type with trepidation; running Movable Type meant attempting to install MTBlacklist to avoid all the comment spam that had previously plagued my MT blogs.  It took me a little over two weeks to figure out the MT install two and a half years ago when I did it for the first time.  Trying to figure out how to install a plugin seemed like a daunting task.

I am here to report that it was very simple.  Jay's instructions are straight and to the point, and within 2 minutes of downloading the plugin, I had it up and running on my site.

So now I am on a mission to install as many fun plugins as I can because there are some amazing ones out there!

I thought I would miss having Typelists, but BookQueueToo makes it possible for me to have those type lists (heh) on my Movable Type blog.  That is my next plugin installation.  LJCrosspost will be the third.  Of course I plan on sharing my Netflix queue with you, letting you browse through an entire category of my entries and take a gander at the last ten images i've posted in blog posts.

Have I mentioned you guys need to check out all the Plugins?

I will bring this Movable Type commercial to a close by saying, be on the look out for my Movable Type powered site (not just blog) on a computer screen near you soon.

three hole punch

I told you I was going to write this and I know you are going to read it; these thoughts are both random and scattered, so here goes:

It started the week of your 35^th birthday.  Do you remember that?

Once upon a time, you were the only person, place or thing I could write haiku about.  I have pages and pages of notebooks filled with thoughts and words and daydreams I had about you.

Even today, the sound of your voice makes me smile; the subtleness of your accent is at once familiar and reassuring.

I can remember phone calls and emails and conversations down to the day.  I thought I was in love with you, but I also thought I was crazy for it.

You were in a situation, and although it was unpleasant, I knew you felt it your duty to do your best, so I waited patiently for a word or a sign that things would change, and when they didn’t, I was disappointed, but I didn’t give up hope.

You are, were and always will be my friend; this I know to be true.  There is an easiness about you that makes me know I can say anything without you judging me or thinking I’m insane.

Remember small doses?

I learned. 

I haven’t even looked at haiku writing the same since you.  I don’t even write them as frequently.  You do though.  I like to think that this comes from the times when we used to write them back and forth.

I remember the three-hole-punch.

I remember a conversation with you at a phone booth downtown and me being so enraptured…

I remember the surprise of a haiku book.

I remember wishing you could be free, if not for me and you and us, then at least for yourself because no one deserved to be that unhappy.  I remember feeling bad for thinking those thoughts and wanting to share them with you.

I remember never getting any work done because we were always on the phone or emailing.

I remember you telling me that because of me you were thinking thoughts that went directly against vows you took before God and man…

I remember the day you gave me the news.  I remember thinking – wow, he’s free.  And then I thought – damn, he’s free and it’s too late for me.

And then today you asked me why, and I really don’t know. 

Have time and space and distance taken their toll?

Deep down inside, I still feel the same.  If you asked it of me, I would do it and that would be that.  Is that silly?

The big girl in me realizes that if it was or is meant to be it would have been or will be, and there is no amount of talking, waiting, hoping or wishing that will change things.

And we are both in a space of growth and discovery of ourselves, in a time where we need this space of growth and discovery to figure out just who we really are and where we really want to be.

Still…

These are the things that I won’t forget because I won’t allow myself to forget them.

what?

When the phone started ringing at 3:30 in the morning, I had no idea who it would be, because currently there is no one with enough status to be able to call like that and not get cussed out.  I tried to focus in on the phone number on the display; there was a nagging feeling of recognition in the back of my head, but my ability to recall the who from memory was defeated by sleepiness, and so I answered it even though I wasn't sure who it was nor if it was someone I wanted to speak with.

"Hello?"  The question wasn't so much pronounced as inferred. 

"Hello."  The braziness was at least familiar. 

"Who is this?"

"Pusha."

I almost dropped the phone.  "What?"

"It's Pusha."

"Boy."

"You sound irritated. You got company?"

"No."

"So what's up?"

"What's up?  How did you get this number?"

"Huh?"

"How did you get my number?" 

"I have my ways."

"Great.  A stalker."

"It ain't all that baby girl.  I just called cause I-"

"What time is it?"

"Around 3:30."

"3:30."  My voice was monotone.

"Yeah." 

"Okay.  What do you want?"

"Like that?"

"At 3:30 in the morning, hell yeah."

"I was checking to see if the number was really yours."

"It is."

"And then I wanted to know if someone was up in my spot."

"Nigga, please.  I'm hanging up-"

"Wait."

"What?"

"I didn't mean it like that.  My bad, Monique."

I sighed.  His voice still sounded the same.  He was still arrogant.  He still thought he ruled the world.

"Pusha..."

"Monique..."

"Why are you calling me?"

"I don't know.  I ain't hollered at you in a while."

"That was best for all of us, right?"

"We thought so then, didn't we?"

"I still think so now."

"I'm not hot anymore, if that's what you worried about."

"Pusha, I've just moved on."

"Moved on from what, me?"

"Dysfunctional relationships in general.  Not specifically you, but generally, yes, dudes like you."

"Damn, that's cold.  You sound like you bitter."

"I'm not.  I'm just over it."

"Over what?"

"I probably couldn't make you understand."

"Try me."

"No.  I'm tired. I want to go back to sleep."

"So that's it?"

"I guess so."

"You gonna call me back later?  I'll come smoke a blunt with you."

"No thank you.  This really should be goodbye."

"If you give a fuck, I'm not going to jail and I'm not going to court anymore."

"I suppose I do give a fuck about that.  That's good to hear."

"We had fun, right?"

"We did."

"The spot was the shit while it lasted."

"While it lasted.  All good things come to an end though."

"Yeah.  You ain't even ask me what I'm doing lately."

"What are you doing lately"

"I have a job."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"Are you still hustling?"

"If I said no, would that make you see me?"

"Nope."

"Oh."

"I'm glad everything is okay with you Pusha.  I gotta go."

"Yeah. Aight. It was fun Monique."

"I know. I still laugh about you beating that boy up for breaking into your car."

"I bet you wrote a lot of stories about me."

"I did."

"I bet you'll write one about this phone call."

"I will."

"I could provide you with more stuff to write about."

"Pusha..."

"Ok.  Bye Monique.  I guess I'll see you next lifetime."

"Wow. Not Erykah."

"You used to say that song reminded you of us."

"No, it was 'Other Side of the Game' that I said that about."

"Yeah."

"I guess though, in this case, 'Next Lifetime' could apply too."

"Yeah."

"Bye Pusha."

"Bye Monique."