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Last nite while walking through the Village, a fortune teller spotted my friend and motioned for us to come in. I’m sure she does that all the time, but the girl I was with wanted to go in, so I said, “What the hell.” For two dollars she gave me a face profile. Talk about being dead on. She saw that I was independent, determined, strong willed, and told me I had a lot of good energy around me. She even knew that a lot of people come to me for advice, but hinted that whenever I seek the same in return – more times than not – no one can be found.

The thing that really got me was that she said that something happened in my life within the last five years that prevents me from being happy. That whenever I feel like I’m moving forward, it’s as if something just has to go wrong that pulls me two steps back. Wow. I decided to go ahead and get the full profile. I gave her my full name and birthdate and away she went.

She went on to add that there seems to be a lot of jealousy around me, and that my good energy is being affected by all the negativity others are releasing.

When I asked her if she saw loneliness in me, she quickly responded, “No. You are not meant to be alone. You are destined to find your soulmate. But I do see that you fall for the ones that hurt you.” Someone give this woman a hotline number.

I never thought I was one to be jealous of. I’ve always felt like I have a long ways to go before anyone really pays me any mind. If there are in fact people jealous of me, I’m far too self-conscious and self-critical to notice.

Over the last year I’ve noticed that as hard as I try to be happy, something always goes wrong that leads to me feeling desolate. I’ve told myself time and time again that I will not allow myself to remain in such a dismal state, but it’s hard to break the cycle. Twenty one years of ups and downs with only a small light of hope in sight. I feel like I have the potential to be everything I hope to be. That I will find the success I work effortlessly to achieve. That I will find that someone who will make me happy. She made me recall the day I luckily received that phone call from Mary J. Blige where she stressed that I made her day, gave her the will to go on, and that I’ll find someone just as beautiful as me. Perhaps I need to heed their words.

Yesterday was actually a good day. I felt more confident about my roles at MTV and Blender and that both may well indeed lead to greener pastures. But, hearing that woman break down my life in mere seconds was interesting enough to force me to reflect on everything that’s taken place. Before you begin to question my sanity, no, I’m not suddenly a believer. She basically told me everything I already knew. It’s just the idea of it being confirmed by a complete stranger that intrigues me.

At the end of our talk, she handed me this bag – full of tea, I believe – and told me to sit in a tub of water for three days, and to come see her again on Sunday. Yeah, I don’t take baths and she got enough of my money. It’s cheaper to be miserable.

Ha, you see? I’m not that shaken. It’ll take a lot more than that to hook me. She should have throw in some Kabbalah water…maybe then I’d be tempted to board the mothership.

The only person who can solve my problems is me. And if there is a higher power that will assist me in my ordeal, they’re not going to be in the Village charging me.

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Saw this on a few blogs, so I thought I’d give it a try, too.

Total volume of music files on my computer: I have most of my music in my iTunes folder, but I have a couple of gigabytes of audio floating around in different folders. Quick estimate would be about 25gb….and that’s after losing a lot of my music when my motherboard crashed (FYI, when you buy a laptop, you buy a Sony, not a Gateway. The hell was I thinking?)

Last CD I bought was: I’m about to order The Best of Lauryn Hill. J.Period must have a way with words breaking Lauryn down to actually host the mixtape.

Song playing right now: “Certainly” by Erykah Badu. Since my plans for tonight fell through, I might as well sit back and mellow out.

Five songs I listen to a lot these days: Only five? This is always hard for me.

Keyshia Cole: “We Could Be”
Thicke: “I Want To Love You Girl”
Mariah Carey: “I Wish You Knew”
Gina Thompson: “Calling You”
Teedra Moses: “Caution”

Definitely been into R&B a lot lately.

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For a minute there, I was worried that I may have to keep the promise of changing my name to Prince if Michael Jackson were convicted. But luckily, the Kang of Pop has been acquitted and all is well for Michael Joseph….eh, you get the point. I was at MTV as the verdict was read. Shortly before it was, the pundits on CNN spent an hour discussing Michael Jackson’s jail sentence and his untimely death while incarcerated. Yeah, that’s showing us you’re neutral.

As everyone gathered near the TV to hear the verdict, I can see how happy some of the people were. Some were literally foaming at the mouth at the thought of Michael Jackson going to jail. Then, count by count, their cheerful smiles turned upside down and a big whiff of anger consumed the floor. I have three words for them: Ha! Fucking! Ha!

Once I got back to my floor, I went to a producer who earlier that day mentioned that he hopes Mike is acquitted of everything just to spite those who had long convicted him (you know what I mean). I told him how pissed everyone was on the other floor and he told me similar reactions there. He told me, “That goes to show you what they really think of us.” Truer words have never been spoken.

Mark Anthony Neal wrote a great piece about the Jackson trial over the weekend:,0,3674933.story?coll=la-news-comment-opinions

I know everyone says you shouldn’t play the race card at every turn, but then again, you can only play the card that you’re dealt. Mike may be a white woman to us, but he’s not necessarily viewed as such to everyone else.

Although I’m not entirely sure of Mike’s mental stability, I didn’t believe the accuser and I certainly don’t like the idea of a D.A. with an axe to grind prosecuting the case. I have four words for all of them: “Hee..Hee.Hee…Wooo!”

If you’ll excuse me, I have a few songs to listen to and a moonwalk to perfect.

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Should I be happy that Lauryn is back or worry for her health? I talked to my friend who saw her last nite at Vibefest and I’ve read several reviews – things aren’t looking too good for Lauryn. I really hope she pulls everything together, because I still believe she has a lot to offer us. Then again, Lauryn just may have dressed and performed for the occasion: I heard the Vibefest sucked! It couldn’t have been any worse than the magazine.

But in all seriousness, I really thought – well still think -, in terms of an artist who give us sociopolitical commentary of significance in her music, she’s it. But. she’s looking crazier than my kinfolk in that picture.

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So I missed the Puerto Rican Day Parade. My boy said, “It’s too hot. I got work to do. Fuck all them people.” There goes my chance to meet Jenny Lo, serenade her and become her fourth husband. Shucks. Maybe I’ll see her on the 6.

Everyone is saying that I’m wildin’ out. I recently confided in people that I’m a bit of a prude; but, I’ve been thinking and I’m not sure if that’s really the case. Sure, there are some things that I’ll never do, but I believe the real problem is that I’m very self conscious. That’s what prevents me from enjoying myself as much as I can when I’m home or at school. I know that people have this image of me and while I may not try to uphold it for them, I do for myself. Michael drinking? Michael clubbing? Michael *gasp* smoking? When did I become Father Michael? The smoking I’ll stop because I’ve basically confirmed what I’ve known all along – smoking is disgusting. Yeah, no more blacks for Mike.

I know that come August, I’ll have so many responsibilities and it’s likely that I will be overwhelmed: This summer may be about advancing my career, but why not have a little fun in the process? So, I’m going to continue proposing to bartenders. Getting lost on Canal Street at 4 in the morning (Ok, maybe not). Spending too much money on drinks (Eh, I’ll go to the liquor store before to save money). And *gulp*, dancing…which I never do. Too bad I picked a city to do it where they don’t dance. That’s another blog entry, though.

Another problem is that being the big critic I am *insert halo*, I wonder how people look at me. I can solve that problem with two words: Fuck them.

“You can’t spend your life being in fear of all that may be.”

“Don’t let it get you down. It’s just life.”

So I’m learning.

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I should have updated this thing a lot sooner, but what are you going to do? Here’s a recap of the last few days:

– Went out Thursday nite with a friend. Don’t remember the name of the club, but I had a great time. We went to Happy Hour at some placed called BBQ’s. The drinks were cheap and I had three of them. Two apple martini’s and a bahama mama. Good shit. Then I had two, eh, I don’t remember what they were at the club, but they were good. I wasn’t drunk, but I was niiiiice. Nice enough to be hopping in the street and dancing the entire nite. Yeah, I never dance – but that’s exactly how much fun I had. Must go back, especially after seeing Eva from “America’s Next Top Model” walking around. The woman is gorgeous. I hate Missy.

– I’ve gotten lost about four times in the last three days. Got lost around 4:00 a.m. on Canal coming from the club on Thursday. On Friday I was meeting up with my friend Ashley in Harlem and couldn’t remember where the train was. After leaving Ashley (who showed me a great time, by the way), I couldn’t remember where the N/Q train was on 34th, so I was lost in the rain. And not to be outdone, I got on the wrong train so I missed my stop in Brooklyn to meet up w/ my patna Terrance. And if that’s not pitiful enough, even when I got to the right stop (DeKalb), I couldn’t recognize it, so I almost said fuck it and went home. Luckily, cooler heads prevailed. I get the feeling if I leave my bed, I’ll probably forget how to return to it, too.- Yesterday I moved to a new suite. My other suitemates didn’t care for the room and wanted us to band together to tell the manager that we deserve better. I joined them, although I had no idea of how bad the apartment was: I’ve rarely been there and when I am there, I never go into the kitchen. Roaches in fridge bad, very bad. That alone warranted a new room. They were pushing their luck complaining about the paint and dry wall, though. Drew Hall would have scarred them for life.

– I want to fight my dermatologist. No really, I want to fight him. Perhaps it’s not entirely his fault, but I must blame someone. To make a long story short, I went to him hoping to cure something that turned out to be nothing compared to what the allergic reaction I had to the medicine has done to my neck. Deep sigh.

– Tomorrow I begin my first internship at MTV. Everyone is asking if I am excited. Honestly, I’ve been more concerned about hunting down my dermatologist, and figuring out where can I exercise (I wanna be fine, yal). But, as I type about it now, I’m getting excited. I’m sure it will be a great experience. An experience I hope leads to career opportunities (hint hint, people). The other day I did see Gideon Yago. That was pretty cool. I’d love his job/life.So I’ve done parts of Brooklyn, Harlem, Central Park, rode the 6 like J.Lo, partied, ate a hot dog (don’t eat beef, but hey, you have to try them…yummy for mystery meat) and gotten lost. I think that’s pretty good for the first week. Alright, enough blogging. Now it’s time for me to get ready for tomorrow. I did come here to work, y’know.

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It’s 5:12 a.m. and I’m just now going to bed after a long night. Whew, I am loving this city. More later…

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Well, I’m finally here and I finally have ‘net access. These past few days have been very enjoyable. I don’t start working at either gig until next week, so for a week I get to relax and take in the city.The dorm I’m staying in is apartment-style and it’s pretty decent. My roommate is cool, but moving out in two days. We’ll see how the next one turns out. I have four other suitemates: All seem like good people…that love their weed. For a moment, I was little concerned about being the only negro in the suite, but that’s my “sheltered” life for you. I’m sure my tales of being the only minority will pale in comparison to life in Chinatown. People weren’t lying about the odd smells.Yesterday I took a walk to Union Square and sat amongst the Bush protesters likening Dubya to Hitler and the other colorful people of the city – like the old man who stuck his hand down his zipper to play with himself for five minutes. Funny thing is at the time I thought nothing of it.Last nite I went to Brooklyn to kick it with a friend from high school and saw a huge rat fake out two kids by leaping down the sewer, only to pop back up to continue to walk down the streets. Yeah, I don’t like that so much. I think I heard the rat singing “Knuck If You Buck.” I bucked out of his damn way, thank you. Oh, I kinda umm…smoked a black (if you know me, you know I hate anything that will give me cancer) and we finished a bottle of Hennessy. That is completely out of character for me. After talking to him for a few minutes, I realized how much of a prude I am. Eh, I’ll loosen up a bit more. However, if prudish behavior leads to a successful career in the city I want to live in, I’ll tighten up quicker than a….can’t finish that one. *insert halo*But seriously, don’t expect me to smoke too much. I am known for chasing people around the yard at Howard yelling, “You’re going to die of cancer. Save yourself.”, so I don’t want to be a hypocrite. That and I don’t want to join them in the hospital.Went up to the MTV building for lunch with a friend from Howard, who’s interning with VH1’s “Best Week Ever.” How great is that? That show has been calling my name since it premiered. Let’s hope my friend Iman one day works on the show, and chooses to hook her boy up with a guest spot. MTV gets extra points for the bomb cafeteria. That turkey burger and those fries were good. Better than the crap I had at Applebee’s two nights before. MTV News’ Sway walked in as I was leaving. I should be seeing him all the time soon. I want to see LaLa and Quddus next haha. This is probably the most I’ve spent in the room doing nothing since I got here on Sunday. If I didn’t go out tonight, I’ll be fine…but let’s hope something jumps off. Iman was telling me something about MTV doing an event tonight. We’ll see.While I’m in the room, I should go study the submay map. The damn thing is huge. I could do that, then decide whether or not I’m going to buy a tv for my room. More than likely I won’t even be in the room often; but, when I am in here, I think I’ll want to catch some mind-numbing show. More ramblings later…

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Rarely will you ever hear me talk about someone I’m into. I haven’t dated anyone in quite some time. How long? Long enough to actually feel embarrassment over it, so I dare not share that tidbit with the world (world = four people reading this entry). As much as I love entertaining the question, “Why aren’t you dating again?”, I recently decided it’s time for me to *gulp* open up and seek a mate. Let’s get real: A man’s got needs and besides, when singing off key to old Jodeci songs, it’s better to see someone you care about cringe at the sound of your voice, rather than a host of strangers on the subway.

There’s a problem, though. A couple actually. I fear rejection. I don’t trust many people. And the biggie of the bunch: I hate being hurt. While I may not be the most sensitive soul, I have to deal with a lot of bullshit and, the last thing I need is another problem – especially if it can be avoided. Typically with me, if I like you, then that means you’re special. Hopefully that doesn’t sound egotistical. What I mean is, if you can take my mind off of everything around me, then you’s a bad somebody. Ha, that’s even worse, isn’t it? Whatever.Unfortunately, these people usually turn out to be the absolute worst for me, hence my reluctance to get back into the swing of things. Part of it is usually my fault. You would think with so many of my friends coming to me for advice on relationships (so what if I’m inexperienced, ask anyway, right?), I would know when someone is wrong for me. If only that were true. I will meet someone, fall head over heels , then proceed to be shitted on. It’s a vicious cycle, one I can’t seem to break. Before you wonder, yes I indeed have a backbone. Still, I’m never able to pull away. Enter the new person. I met ’em while visiting a friend. We didn’t formally meet that day, but technology works miracles. I ended up travelling for hours just to kick it.The day turned out to be a great one. Only Ice Cube could top me. I was nervous, I laughed so much, and I was smiling the entire time we spent together. That’s no easy feat. By the end, I thought I may have found someone who would break the cycle. Then reality stepped in. To make a long story short, after things became a bit weird, I began to ask questions. Turns out they’re seeing someone else. See why I usually restrict these lovey dovey emotions to Mariah Carey records? If you’ll excuse me, I have to go scare people with my rendition of “The Sweetest Taboo.” Yeah, I’m being melodramatic. But it be’s that way sometimes.

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