My Salvation

Granted we're back in the United States, but I haven't stopped working. Oprah in Chicago as soon as we touched down, lost luggage, flights to LA, AMA rehearsals and advance, broken cube heads, whining techs, diva stylists, cheap ass Award show budgets and then just living.

When I have down time I'm bored to tears. All of my running partners have gone or married or hooked up for the winter. It happens when you leave...life. Even though it seems like it may stop, everyone keeps on keeping on. And so I get home and I'm unsettled, mad, nitpicking at everything and everyone's faults when really I'm just bored and lonely at home. I do notice, however, that I haven't been around entitled Americans for some time. Ergo, the sudden mixing with white folks has me snapping heads. I swear this woman at 16th and Montana almost got cut. Fucking Santa Monica. I had to take myself home...inside....away from people before I started a riot...keep in mind I've been in places where the national symbol is a black woman. I dunno. I was feeling myself.

So I needed to feel that again. Having withdrawals....and then, like a beacon in the night...old faithful fried chicken lures me to the steps of my favorite juke joint - The Cork. I've decided to re-associate myself with all things and people south of the 10 freeway. I have enough of these [white] folks in my daily....I gots to be free to pick my teeth with the end of the straw and sing Teena Marie with the 50 year old lady at the end of the bar at the top of our lungs. Where hot sauce is provided and not just tabasco and Tapatio! And where the bartender cha cha chas with you to the 4th Frankie Beverly and Maze song that's come out of the juke box. Yes folks, living the dream on Adams and Crenshaw. Isn't that the American Way?

I HATE LA

I hate LA and I hate Melissa Rivers. She's ugly and has nerve. Who is she anyway? Her mother is FUNNY. She actually has a purpose and gig? Who the fuck is Melissa Rivers? They're all up in arms about Kelly Osborne on the cover of Shape magazine..."we're so proud of her. She doesn't naturally have a 'good' body." Who the fuck says that? Meanwhile I have countless artists losing their minds over weight, size, sagging skin, etc. And I get it, black don't crack. My shit is tight. To that I say so the fuck what, my hair doesn't grow past my shoulders - in fact its falling out on the computer keys as we speak, I don't have no titties, I have a gap on teh side of my teeth, and my booty is up on my back. DO think i'm losing my head over being fucking skinny and blonde? Man fuck this wack ass place. That party I went to the other night was the worst. The only good people there I was there with. So whatevs. Spikey hair and gel and dumb ass opening conversations. I know I'm a Brazil jocker, but I love my back fat. And I love that I have a cover up that opens slightly AT the back fat.

LA is trippin.

THE END OF THE TOUR

I thought the Police tour in Australia was great...this...this was incredible.

I know I started this tour with expectations of high whoredom and extreme situational affairs during this tour. As I am a lady I cannot reveal all but what I can reveal is.....I don't want this party to be over. The whoredom....and let's just call it "Freedom" shall we? -- The Freedom experienced by all on this tour was amazing to watch. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. I landed at LAX utterly amazed that I was landing in LA. It hadn't changed one bit. And why should it have? It's a big city bigger and larger than I. I'm just an ant. What has changed is me. Not only my perspectives, but my being. I haven't put my finger on it yet. My girl came by last night and told me the same thing. I have been totally awesomed on by the whole damn country and I'll be back.

And now that I can go to korean spas and get beautified, scratch some of the grime of traveling off, I'm saddened to not be getting on a plane to Sao Paulo or Salvador or Floripa. Hell I'd go back to Recife for another....chance...touch, smell. Jesus. I loves me some Brazil!!!! Don't look for me in February. I will be gone, child.

A Special Kinda Lovin.....

Peru....known for it's seafood....I just ordered a garlic fish that may have saved my life. It's so special and unusual, like having sex with a white Brazilian, only ....more delicious I think. This fish....my God. Either I'm hungry or it's true... This is the best I've ever had.....

It's like pesto on top and creamy garlic spread on some kind of fish from the ocean right across the street from the hotel. We're on the Pacific Coast Hwy....in Lima, Peru. And there are some chocolatey kind of Native Indian folks here that are intriguing....and theres a casino. Way to end this muthafucka!!!

Who ARE these Peruvians anyway? Let me investigate.....

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_Peru

Dope history. The motherland of all things Native...Inca Civilization -- like created farming and shit. THEN, as usual, white folks come over with all of their nasty diseases tryna run shit that's been there for 11000 years. When someone gonna kill them off with diseases....I'm sorry. Did I say that out loud?

I'm feeling this today....

Sleepy and Bored

Slept not 30 minutes last night. Slept on the plane. But the angst and energy of the drama prior to departure was too much for words. It was a flashback to 1992. Me and my girl was at a club. This boy hollered. I rolled. She got mad and started blowing up the phone...what evs....the simple shit bitches do over dick. My word. And then just play themselves to where the nigga is like..."damn, drunk women". Whoever wants to hear that? So embarrassing. And it didn't stop nuthin no way...so....

and now i'm dying to go to sleep in this FRESH ASS hotel...which I will send photos of tomorrow.

The dancers are on restriction. 1 bad apple can spoil the bunch as they say. So they can't go....Cinderellas.

um...i'm bored. nothing else.

The Saddest Day

I am on a plane about to depart my new home, aka, Brasil. After a month, we are finally moving onto the next country. Sad, but true. I will keep an open mind and ignore the stories of Negro/brazil and all things brown hate. I will enjoy steaks and red wine for all of our days. I may even tango. I know the hotel is popping. I also know that the new ladies are not as nice nor kind nor as patient as my Brazilian ladies. I already miss Fabi, Go-Go, and my dearest sweet lilibeth who I love too much for words.....I gotta go cry.....

Let the whore rah continue....

1 month down...2 weeks to go

Last night , last show, ended in:

1. A new retard haircut that I already had but it's blonde and so everyone liked it but me. So what do I know? Cept I can't keep it because I have no hair grease.

2. me professing my undying love for a crew man. The finest man ever in the world. The Universe loves to laugh at me. Muito azarada.

3. The dancers begrudging me of my samba costume so i could perform the final dance in Sao Paulo....jelly trick ass tranny bitches. I had to roast them Debbie Allen style. Non listening attitudinal black girls. Attitude and Ass are from Africa. I think I heard someone suck they teeth but I'm not sure. It was about to be on...they lucky I don't have a vast vocabulary.

4. The Head Honcho asking me to change everything at the drop of a dime...me doing it, then being mad....when will I learn NOT to come through? HELLO???? That's the key. They blame you if you fuck up and keep pushing you if you don't. I think pushing = "thank you". More on this though later.

The coup d'etat? MY CELL PHONE GOT JACKED. I am an addict. I lost it. Curled up and went to bed. Didn't even kick it. Was nasty to my assistant. mean in general to the world. And I couldn't snap out of it. I was literally so damn mad, I don't know or recall being that mad before. ANd I realized that I have a nasty nasty ugly disgusting habit. I'm addicted to phone, work, contact, information....what in the hell is wrong with me? I'd rather be addicted to love, sex, surfing, .....but as you well know, I don't like to dream about getting paid.

So I've decided to become a porn star....in Australia or Bali.

You see what withdraw does to you?

And thats my new bff Lilibeth who took me to get my Sao Paulo haircut. She wants a new photo.

PrAISE THE LORD

I finished Dan Brown's "The Lost Symbol". And the bottom line is that we're all the same. And the reason why our religions resemble each other is because they are the same. And in the end it had me praising Jesus and knowing that I am God. God is love and that's who I am. It was actually pretty amazing. And then, after reading it, I had my ipad charging from the local counter boy. The local counter boy gives me back my Ipad after charging and the only english he knew was "Jesus loves you". I was moved beyond belief. I had just been praying and to hear that affirmation from a non-English speaking dude...was phenomenal.

I loves me some Jesus.

Love him!


Fa sho.