What I Learned: August 28

This week, I spend the weekend in a Chevy Tahoe, change my name to Uber, operate in a COMBINED EIGHT hours of sleep and navigate the strange streets of this city.

Friday (Continued from here):

After driving from Conneticut in the aforementioned Tahoe, meeting Nikki Bella and sneaker gawd Masch, I do my best Uber impression and drop off everyone AND then  pick up new gear.

I start a group text for the ages and plan for the next day. Always have to think of the future at least professionally. Personally, again, walking shitshow.

I then head back home where I circle like a large shark in this beast of a vehicle. I accidentally look like a fed doing laps in this car.

I find a parking super late at night and zombie shuffle home.

I learn that I really enjoy nice fancy cars, good music and wonder if I’d be your favorite Uber driver.

Saturday:

Early morning for back to back shoots.

I’ve named the Tahoe Brenda and she and I drive off to Brooklyn for the finale of a micro opus; the pirate black yeezys.

As it turns out, the super lousy and much maligned Adidas Reserve app blessed a few people with a pair of expensive Roshe run water shoes.

Again. The entire team is wearing Nikes.

We’re awful at branding strategy.

So.

We knock that out and climb back into Brenda for a drive out to Long Island for the Billboard Hot 100 Festival.
The drive out is facinating though. We’re cruising through Queens in all its multi leveled confusing street named business before its transformed into wide suburban wilderness. We wind up in Roosevelt Field Mall for meal and really, it’s like walking into the mall from Clueless.

My fat ass gets a Charley’s steaks sandwich and I savor every second with it because I know it’s going to be the last meal we have for a while.

Now.
Jones Beach is a big lovely piece of sand and water on the edge of the madness that is New York. Breathtaking. All that sun, wide open sky, spotty cell service, no shade, nothing for miles…no actually it’s hell adjacent. We pull to the Nikon Theater (we shoot on Canon cameras and glass by the way.) and park Brenda. I make long range Hail Mary lobs for interviews with big names and know they’ll fall very short of their mark but sometimes you just gotta try it y’know? I’m now in that elite circle of people who’s had Jason Derulo (you sang his name admit it) management team say, “Nah.”

We divide and conquer; shooting everything, slowly wilting under the August sun while every kind of could be, will be, top 40 music blares everywhere.

I get to film Halsey (weeps)

Some Betty Who (weeps again)

Micheal Braun (EDM tears)

Jason Derulo (because my mom is weirdly a fan)

Interview Trinidad James (don’t believe me? There’s a video. just watch)

We get an interview Natalie La Rosa and Justine Skye.

I film Lil Wayne’s performance.

Here’s where it gets to be funny though. During Wayne’s set, I mean, you have to know his music to get this but, just…picture a front row of white girls, chanting, sweaty excited about life suddenly yelling Wanye lyrics.

Including n*gga.

I mean.

I’m with a crew of African American dudes and we’re all standing there looking like Patrick Star completely stunned. We knew it was gonna happen but to actually bear witness to darling Becky, Lisa, Heather and Stephanie (names I pulled out of my butt) screaming

Uh, real nigga fuck these haters
These hoes got pussies like craters
Can’t treat these hoes like ladies, man!
Pussy, money, weed, codeine
She say my dick feel like morphine
I hope my name taste like sardines to these niggas
She wake up, eat this dick
Call that breakfast in bed

Yes.

I mean, “Bitches Love Me (Good Kush and Alcohol)” Is totally a deep piece of music but we stopped in our tracks and stared for a good minute before realizing we had to leave.

LOL WHUT

We do interviews on the beach and are promptly eaten alive by the adorable ants and bugs that live on the beach and crawl out at sunset because why not? It’s summer.

We get our faces melted by Axwell and Ingrosso which, if I may, was almost a religious experience. I forgot how much I truly love house and EDM music. There’s something beautiful in computers and synths making you feel something the same way real strings can. We pile up into a long media line and prep to shoot the last act of the night.

The Weeknd.

Remember that line of screaming girls? Still there. All deaf from Axwell and Ingrosso but they’re holding strong and immediately complaining about the press arriving in the front for photos. Guys, if ever you’re at a show, enjoying your night, drinking, laughing smoking and just being you in the moment, don’t bitch about or at the people working a show; we are in a place you want to be and we can go anywhere. You’ll live if my body blocks your view for ten whole minutes. Besides, watch the stage, not me.

Anyways, he’s great live and performed “Crew Love” while we were up there.

the hook.

I get it, it’s music and people are allowed to do and sing however but it’s SO FUCKING WARPED when twelve year olds are screaming ‘THERE’S A ROOM FULLA N*GGAS WHATCHU BOTHERIN’ ME FOOOORRRR’ with conviction.

In anycase, we stick around for another two and beat the traffic.

I venture deep into Queens on personnel delivery drops on some Uber meets GTA mission level stuff, wall eyed, exhausted and trying to figure out how to process the day.

I park outside Waffle’s building, figuring reckless charm is all one needs to make things work. I text and send a hilarious video of myself bopping around in the car and receive a text that is both mixed and positive. “You should’ve text me earlier, it’s too late now.”

so you’re saying I have to ask earlier in the day?

By the time I arrive home, it’s well after one am I’ve been up for 18 hours and not really fatigued so much as just…

Sunday:

Recovery sort of happens. I still have the boat I spent at least 20 minutes battling for parking (seriously, it’s competitive as all hell) manage to park the boat and work out a few things. I get pizza for everyone because pizza forever and wind up taking some home in a box that’s almost novelty in its size. I climb into the car again, mutter ‘One Last Ride’ on some Vin Diesel shit, place the box in the passenger side and roll out.

It’s an American truck so I guess this is appropriate

I will now add pizza delivery service to my list of things I can do.

So many hats.

The boat goes back to the rental service and as I leave Brenda, grateful for her service, dependability and rear camera system, I’m greeted by one of the clerks who walks around the truck with big wide eyes.

“How’d you like the car?” she asks.

“It’s great. A little much but I had a good time.”

“Is it the one you ordered?”

(I didn’t order it, it just popped up on me) “Yep.”

I watch as she climbs in and turns the car on to check the settings. “Oh it’s like, you didn’t do anything with it.”

*in my head* You’re right I didn’t do anything but shuttle people and gear around for three days. I didn’t sit in it for awhile blasting music and staring out at the traffic ahead of me wondering about my place in the universe, if I should pick up new comics this week and if Coldplay will go on another world tour. “Oh I kept it clean before bringing it back.”

“I appreciate that!”

*in my head*  so do I get a break on this discount or nah?

I shuffle my exhausted ass back to the train, which, given how much driving I’ve been doing feels incredibly weird. I’m one of those assholes with a box of pizza on the train and I can feel everyone judging me; I’m holding the box correctly. Cold pizza or not, you do NOT under any circumstances hold pizza under your arm like a surfboard. I sit down with this stupid box in my lap and just think about how my life as flip turned upside down. I can be as tired as I want but being broke is even more exhausting.

The interesting thing is as I continue to work and get farther away from my last self (the struggling to make ends meet freelancer me) I find that I’m still trying to figure out which me I am now. I believe that we are born and reborn over and over again, given different lives to live in the moment we walk into that timeline and this timeline is almost new, the entire experience unknown and I can’t parallel it with anything I’ve been through so far. I don’t want to be an asshat but it’s so strange and I guess its kinda cool that way. Scary but cool.

Monday:

It’s funny because given how eventful this weekend was, Monday feels like another random ass day where things happen. We had cookies so, that’s always a good time. I actually leave my house at a decent hour and spent some time with my mom before holing up in my lab to write and stare at Monday Night Raw.

Mostly because I hadn’t seen Nikki’s sneakers in action.

Fun fact? We’re the same height (5’7) and shoe size (8) BUT definitely not that good looking.

Also fun fact? She wore the sneakers again.

Tuesday:

A delightful flurry of activity happens and yours truly basically does her very best to keep up with the everything going on. I’m overseeing a project on a group, The Bushwick Collective and as it turns out, there are great supporters and even bigger obstacles they are facing. You can be so good at your job that other people want to take it from you. It’s a big piece and with everything going on…well…I hope it’s straight napalm and melts faces.

I randomly text Waffle and ask if dinner is an option.

Surprise.

It is.

basically what happened

We have a quiet dinner where Waffle rails on everything happen while I politely shovel pasta into my face hole and try my best not to stare lovingly at that face.

It’s kinda embarrassing how big a loser I am.

I wind up picking up some CDs: Florence + The Machine, The Weeknd, Halsey and Tove Lo. I have all them in digital format but The Weeknd and Halsey were ill begotten advances because physical stores haven’t caught up with the digital Friday releases…haha. fight me.

Wednesday:

A day off doesn’t mean you’re actually allowed to unplug and it DEFINITELY doesn’t mean life won’t throw many nasty curveballs. I’m told to continue to persevere but that’s easy to say when you’ve been getting square meals, sleep and feel appreciated.

Thursday:

Waffle needed to get some dental work done and so, me and my white knight ass volunteered to meet her and shuttle her around.

oh is there a problem?

oh is there a problem?

I finish my book, Shadowshaper, and watch as Waffle emerges from the room bleary eyed and puffy. Extractions are the least fun thing ever. We spend the early afternoon shuffling between pharmacies and I endure increasing levels of grump bitch before getting an apology text.

pls?

Friday:

I’m running errands because taking a break isn’t a thing that I know how to do.

I spend the day with Waffle and basically do the worst job of covering up my heart eyes.

It winds up being a good day.

What I Learned: August 21

This week, I get my cowgirl on (not in that way) and wrangle up some coworkers for micro tour of New York, get some damn fine barbecue in Brooklyn and discover that the joys of running and gunning is only as good as the subject you’re shooting.

Monday:

Starts with a groan since I’m convinced I overslept and continues with a WHAT THE FAK as the trains decide, ‘girl, you’re not going to go no place on time today’ I arrive to one of the cooler venues to shoot in, The YouTube Studios and do my very best to not cartwheel all around the place. (I can’t do cartwheels so it’s fairly easy to do) I’ve booked a guy who’s basically the shrunken stocky version of John Lequizamo as our driver for the day and that basically means, you’re gonna have a good time.

We’ve packed in all the talent into one studio space and they’re basically the goofiest group of mixed gender kids that I’ve encountered. It’s like S Club 7 without the British accents…sigh…I miss SC7.

I’ve no idea what happened to them (this is also not my group)

We pile into a fifteen passenger van like a bunch of exhausted school kids and head off to a space in Brooklyn that’s covered in artwork, some of which is related to the group that I’m working on my first production documentary on. It’s kinda magical how all of these lives and strings start threading together the way they have. From there, we shuttle to another place that’s lowkey nice and do another round of photos and some people do some power napping.

For someone who theoretically had 8 hours of sleep and is currently running on hour 12 by the time we wrap, I’m feeling ok.

I’m also off the next two days and when you have that kind of luck, you really wanna go all out y’know?

We wind up at Mabels for dinner and have a massive family style barbecue sitdown where I discover that I have serious maternal issues; I kept making sure everyone was eating, watered and taken care of before shoveling atleast a pound of various meats in my face. (Pause)

It should be mentioned that I wound up squaring up various bills and tabs, signing off on various pieces of paper and getting a free shot of whisky because I took care of our one bartender and the manager was super delighted with my automatic running around like a chicken with my head cut off tendencies.

There’s still tons of food left and I’m EXACTLY the type of person to ask for doggy bags and boxes. I ultimately pack up two large boxes of ribs, pulled pork, cole slaw, mac and cheese and some potatoes. I SAT ON THE TRAIN ON MY WAY HOME LIKE A BOSS with my food because…

Why not?

Tuesday:

I stay home, eat some leftovers with mom and process the paperwork from the night before. I am nothing if not completely obsessive and slightly workaholical. I go to the gym for once and manage to impress myself by not being too winded or flabby. I am however, exhausted and cut it short. I go home and get into a text talk with Waffle and it sounds like dinner was going to happen but I fall asleep for four hours and wake up to a ‘I’m going to work, talk to you later text’

you used to call me on my cell phone

Wednesday:

I decide today’s the day that I’m going to treat myself and I wind up going to the movies…and comic books. BUT FIRST. Let me look like a human female and get my eyebrows done. I wind up on Union Square, fraught with memories because I brought Waffle there all the time and it always sucks to do something when you know it’s much more fun with someone else. I go see Ant-Man which is pretty funny and enjoyable and for god’s sake would you look at Hayley Motherfuckin Atwell as Agent Carter in 1989.

stop being so awesome you savage

If I may…

Hayley Atwell is one of those people that’s just naturally charming and strange enough to make you wonder why God would be so cruel as to make a person witty, generous and hot. I mean there are goddesses and there’s this woman.

Shakin my head.

Anyways. I wind up not buying any comic books (I get them through Comixology) and pick up a Doctor Strange shirt because let’s face it, this guy is the gnarliest of the Marvel superheroes because he’s basically a creep magician.

I like that shit.

Thursday:

Did you know the thirst for Yeezy Boosts is real?

Did you know that raffle contests are the cause of passion and dedication?

Did you know that I spent five hours in the middle of a heatwave working on an internet banger?

The more you know.

The fun part of it was both of us were walking around looking for Adidas sneakers in Nike kicks.

I’m no hype beast but I gotta tell you, them kids are dedicated and for a moment, I almost caught the fever.

i need to go the gym. seriously.

When I get back, I get info on another shoot tomorrow afternoon. It’s in Connecticut with a major sneaker designer…and Nikki Bella.

Friday:

So this is where the week felt like a lifetime of experiences in one day. I start super early because, like I said, my personal life is a mess and I’m late to places but my professional life is as close to decent and timely as possible. At the start of the afternoon I’m told “It’s a Chevy Tahoe.”

I’m 5’7.

I’m not a Tahoe sized person.

I started to call myself an Uber

We load in for a fun-filled road trip to CT, where the app Waze (I’ve named her Laura) gets us from NYC to location and we spend time in a sneaker head’s fantasy.

I also take a rare selfie and hold the Diva’s championship belt while wearing a Xena shirt.

THE DIVAS’ BELT

DIVAS

BELT

XENA
SHIRT.

Video’s coming soon.

I may have also missed on an opportunity to go to SummerSlam.

*sobbing*

I get back to the city, swap gear and prepare for the next day: the Billboard Hot 100 Fest.

In. Jones. Beach.

There are times where I feel like I can do anything and other times where I’m like, ‘shit shit shit’ and just go with it. These are the times where I’m glad to be where I am and even more impressed that I’ve done what I have done in what feels like a matter of seconds. I have a hard time processing things because I unpack but the real take away is that I’ve really achieved something that borders on insane.

I spent a lot of time watching TV with strong characters and want badly to be like them because I’m just that kind of girl. I pulled a lot of inspiration and strength from them because they were role models that I needed and still need. I have to know that what I’m doing matters; what I’ve accomplished is important and that I’ve been delivering on what I’ve been tasked to do. I’ve been told I’m a warrior, I feel like I fight a dozen wars and I want to make this life truly something impressive. I just want to feel like I’ve done something and as of late, I’ve been scratching at that.

I just want to ease the anxiety and accept things for what they are.

Wondrously strange collection of experiences.

Maybe it’s not such a bad thing.

What I Learned: August 14

This week, I spend time in Tarrytown in a rental car listening to trap music, complete the lap that made me almost weep, learn that technology is not your friend and that being a workaholic is a better substitute for alcohol.

Saturday:

I’m up with the birds and armed with Apple Maps (which, fuck you by the way) I climb into rented Ford Focus and feel like I’m in a jet because I’m doing checks like a pilot. I have about 120,000 songs on an iPod and wind up listening to of all things…Fall Out Boy. Don’t judge me, it beat the radio at 7am.

It’s true what they say about driving, your mind completely blanks out and you focus more on piloting a massive machine through highways built years before you were a thought by people who didn’t think those roads would even be traveled for as long as they have been.

You get super philosophical.

I find parking relatively easy at 7:30am (I was in traffic to boot and DIDN’T drag race once it cleared up…) and run upstairs to make sure that everything is where it’s supposed to be. Again. My personal life, total shitshow, professional life sorta put together.

The team shows up and we load in for our epic journey to the most magical place on earth: the MSG Training Center in Tarrytown NY. While on the way, we encounter the fail that is Apple Maps.

Have you ever driven in near circles in the middle of a scenic part of a town and immediately think, we’re a car full of minorities, isn’t this is how horror movies start?

drive faster

I watch too many movies.

Anyways. We make a few turns and wind up where we’re supposed to be…fuck you Apple Maps…sincerely.

I’m about 5’7 which in the WNBA makes me a guard and probably a decent prospect; in the NBA that makes me the water girl. We arrive and check in and walk into the Liberty side of the basketball court.

I’m not gonna lie, I’ve been there before but I still kinda swoon because that’s what I do.

We land some hilarious interviews and shoot what could be the hit of our mini summer vacation.

We climb back into the car, strangely inspired by the entire day (it was two hours that felt like less than that which is saying something) get 5 Napkin Burgers (which is a miracle) and pile into the office for a late shift.

Sunday:

Even if you want to play a game of treat yo self, you still wind up being incredibly responsible and climb into the fray super early and with a box of bagels for your mom. You also want nothing more than to get another win in terms of getting that date to happen.

The date doesn’t happen.

The sobbing continues.

On the upside, we get two great videos lined up and good to go and I land another byline for work.

I learned that I have to master the art of multitasking.

Also. John Wick is awesome.

Adrienne Palicki, Bridget Reagan and Keanu Reeves carrying guns and being complete assholes. this is basically porn.

Monday:

Screaming matches over stupid things are always fun.

Driving around late at night is even more fun.

I tackled the FDR to the West Side Highway and like a superhero, sat and listened to Kid Cudi wondering about what the hell life is doing with me and my fate these days. I miss the opportunity to get Waffle for a drive around because Waffle being Waffle kept being Waffle and wiffled on me. I was tempted to be a creeper and sit in the car outside waiting but decided that I can’t keep reeking of desperation. The fact that Waffle would’ve gotten in the car with me for fun while I said nothing and blasted music and driven around until drop off at work. These are the things that make me feel all kinds of funny to be honest. I learned that I should just trust my lack of impulse control when it comes to these kinds of situations. Especially when I want to share views like this. IMG_2932

My drive looked nothing like this but I did in fact blast Steve Aoki, so I guess you could say, we were on track.

Tuesday:

So I had rum and cokes.

Wednesday:

Multitasking is multi-taxing but it’s done and honestly, I keep telling myself, I was unemployed last year. Stop bitching so fucking much.

I mean it’s one thing to be overwhelmed and completely burned out but it’s a whole other level if you’re completely like…miserable.

I can’t be miserable.

My brain can’t process that correctly.

My brain shorts out actually.

I know I’m due for a meltdown but I’m also due for an upgrade so I guess you have to burn things down to build something new from it.

I wind up in Jim Hanley’s Universe and have rather interesting conversations about some of the plot fuck ups in X-Factor (which I have admittedly not been keeping up with) but apparently, it’s a big nasty soap opera. I love the fact that out of many of the shops that I’ve been to, this is the only one that actively keeps you in the store with shit talk and comic gossip rather than aisle after aisle of things to look at and maybe consider buying. There’s a strange comfort in the nerd herd. Unsurprisingly, I pick up a bunch of titles that will take me until NEXT WEEK, to read but fuck it, I mean it’s what happens when you work; you get to do things you love.

One day I will write and work for Marvel.

It’s on the list of things to do before I die.

So’s a trip to London.

Fuck it, let’s do both.

Thursday:

Accomplished many a thing, including successfully feeding myself at a decent hour, addressing stuff and things and planning planning planning.

I wound up getting a preview screening pass to see Straight Outta Compton through work which was sweet. It’s insane that all this happened in my lifetime and I’ve basically grown up with this music; I lived through the of many anti-establishment movements fueled by music and made by people who just wanted their voices heard and the vision to just make shit happen. That doesn’t work anymore does it? That unyielding sense of success and self confidence that is needed to take what sounds like a failing idea or a longshot and make it actually happen. Think about it. Ice Cube was the hardest rapper in the game (still is) at the time and just transitioned because he just wanted to do it. Dre just wanted to make music that didn’t suck and E just had the momentum to bring everyone together. It’s probably one of the best made music biopics and some of the moments that happen made me oddly nostalgic for the time where my mom said I couldn’t listen to Metallica, NWA, Public Enemy and when she caught on, The Beastie Boys. Kids aren’t told ‘that’s bad for you’ and if they are, they don’t give a flying fuck. Go see it, it’s worth it.

It’s also creepy how damn near EXACT O’Shea Jackson Jr. resembles his father.

Best cosplay ever.

Friday:

For Whom The Bell Tolls indeed.

In on time despite a late start, doing a bunch of things for the next three days and eagerly anticipating…I dunno…a small moment to think, read a comic book and do more writing because I owe some people some of my letters rearranged into words.

Friday:

I had a salad. That’s not interesting until you realize and understand that my fat ass wants a burger and booze and to be left alone with Waffle on a romantic dinner date where all we do is talk shit and laugh at things.

I’m seeking a gal pal at this point.

An Angie to my  Peggy.

A Sandy to my Danny.

A Laura to my Carmilla.

Basically I’m just rehashing old feelings.

The weekend should be spectacular. Stay tuned.

What I Learned: July 3rd

This week, we travel to NYC Pride 2015, Brooklyn to a Basquiat exhibit and a bar where my useless knowledge got me free booze!

Saturday: Murakai x Vans launch.

I’ve never been to Barney’s. I’ve lived here my whole life and I have never set foot in any one of the high end stores on Fifth Avenue (except Tiffany’s and even that was weird) So when I found out there was a launch with an artist I admire and a sneaker I like to wear I wanted in.

I also forgot that this was the same day as the Kanye West Yeezy Boost 350 release.

And the launch of the Shattered backboard high dunk.

I work in an industry that requires me to remember that and still somehow managed to forget it. Go figure. I had a camera on me to boot. SO. I’m there, with a camera and a fucking double sneaker launch and I didn’t have a crew or the sense to film any of it.

It’s not a roshe run. promise

Vans x Murakami and they don’t come in women’s sizes. the fuck

Halloween special amirite?

I don’t do sneaker launches to be honest but I wanted those damned vans. SO. I went. First of all, kids are strange, the flip culture is bizarre and the wildest part are the grown men who’s wads of cash are clutched in their fists while they wait around for a pair of sneakers they hope to flip into bigger profits. I had a kid tell me he bought his $200 Yeezys and flipped them immediately for $1200. On. Sight. The guy with the cash basically said, ‘say no more’ and immediately bought them before it could be a missed opportunity. Look at the sneaker. They’re basically the Nike Roshe run (an equally meh sneaker but I have a pair in blue suede that I didn’t spend a shit ton of money on) with Kanye’s nickname on it.

In any case.

I didn’t get the Vans, they were only apparently available in men’s sizes and the smallest size, (once I landed at the register) was 8.

REALLY?!

First world issues aside, work flies by and I’m out on time. I have no idea what to do with myself on days like that.

Sunday:

My fat trap and need to be a contributing member of the production society got me in the middle of Christopher Street on Sunday with my small crew covering the Pride festival. It was decidedly eye opening and for my most recent foray into the world of serious producing, not bad.

http://www.complex.com/pop-culture/2015/06/new-york-city-pride-man-on-the-street-video

Monday: Honestly? I can’t even remember Monday. I’m fairly certain I did something pretty decent, I didn’t flail and crying in the corner. nope. Oh. Wait. I ACTUALLY HAD THE DAY OFF…but I spent it planning and plotting. I wound up in a bar on Bleeker Street conveniently named Bleeker Street Bar where, whist wearing my team USA soccer jersey, I failed to watch the actual match because of course I didn’t watch it. I basically allowed my terrible joke appreciating, movie knowing self get me into trouble. I devour the ever-loving shit out of a Baconator from Wendy’s and a spicy wrap, hate buy stuff from Strand and wind up at home before 10pm.

Tuesday: More of the same. A day off. Which is welcome despite my past track record. I did stuff for work but honestly? I’m kinda in a terrible place where I’m like, ‘girl, you need to fix your life but OMG this pizza’

Wednesday: I’m in Brooklyn for work and it’s awesome. I meet Bilal (who is delightful) set up an interview in a tough to get into exhibit (Basquiat: The Lost Notebooks) take a foxy as fuck picture of the KAWS statue in the lobby and basically marvel at my ability to adapt. This must be what it feels like to be a ghost. I leave late, walk all the way over to a comic shop I know is still open (and isn’t Midtown Comics) and buy a shit ton of books I’m far behind on.

Thursday: FIRE SALE EVERYTHING MUST LAUNCH. THERE IS FREE PIZZA AND IT’S DELICIOUS. I send back something I bought for Waffle because it was awkward when I said that I had it and then I wound up feeling like an idiot. I spend most of the late evening in the office where I wrap out work, watch Team America World Police (America FUCK YEAH) and am handed a peace offering of a Cuba cigar. It’s delightful because I just don’t get anything and there it is.

Friday: I drive mom around which is amazing considering a week ago, she had a pacemaker set into her chest. We go to Target where I basically dismantle their (still ingrained in me) system and wind up saving about $5 bucks courtesy of all the coupons I hoard. I’m supposed to go to my brother’s but I have more work to do (super blessing) and wind up at the liquor store, uncarded buying Jack Daniels Whiskey Rye Mash, do more work and wrap out by 10pm. I drink sour mash rye whiskey and hate watch a rom-com called Two Night Stand with the adorable Miles Teller while wondering why two full day have passed since Waffle text me and I contemplate the feelings of absolute aloneness I am combating. I buy $100 worth of groceries (booty not eaten) and wonder what it is I’m doing with myself. I’m doing big things I guess which absolutely beats the bullshit jobs I was running a year ago.

I admit I have a hustler’s mentality, a gambler’s heart and a drunk’s luck.

I’m a strange barrel of fun.

Thor is A Woman and That’s Fucking Fantastic

There is a major shake up happening in Marvel.

Starting in October, Thor, The Might Asgardian Norse god of Thunder would be…Thor, the Mighty Asgardian Norse goddess of Thunder.

The statement released on Marvel.com:

Marvel is excited to announce an all-new era for the God of Thunder in brand new series, THORwritten by Jason Aaron complimented with art from Russell Dauterman.

This October, Marvel Comics evolves once again in one of the most shocking and exciting changes ever to shake one of the “big three” of Captain American, Iron Man and Thor. No longer is the classic Thunder God able to hold the mighty hammer, Mjölnir, and a brand new female hero will emerge worthy of the name THOR.

More on Marvel.com: http://marvel.com/news/comics/2014/7/15/22875/marvel_proudly_presents_thor#ixzz37Z7NQyO0

Speculation is wild about the origins of the new wielder of Mjölnir, and the only hint that the lucky lady is someone who Thor himself saved. She’s built herself off of his mighty blondness and as of October, we’ll find out just who she is and how Thor lost his mojo.

“The inscription on Thor’s hammer reads ‘Whosoever holds this hammer, if HE be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor.’ Well it’s time to update that inscription,” says Marvel editor Wil Moss. “The new Thor continues Marvel’s proud tradition of strong female characters like Captain Marvel, Storm, Black Widow and more. And this new Thor isn’t a temporary female substitute – she’s now the one and only Thor, and she is worthy!”

Throg

Beta Ray Bill

The hammer chooses the wielder, just like Hogwarts Sorting Hat decides that your weak ass is a Hufflepuff and worthy to wield the hammer. (I’m kidding, I don’t know if Hufflepuff is weak, I’ve always been sorted into Gryffindor) Everyone can be worthy to carry the hammer, which is the great appeal of the entire mythos behind the Cosmic Marvel universe.

In 1978, issue 10 of Thor, The Watcher speculated what would have happened if Jane Foster found the Hammer.

what if i did enough squats to git this outfit?

So it’s not out of the realm of possibility for the ownership to pass from Thor Odinson to someone else. It has happened before. Especially when you consider that Throg was an actual plot point.

Thor is a name, not a title.

Naturally, the nerd hordes had a temper tantrum regarding the sex change because nerd rage.

Essentially, comic book purists can accept Throg, vaguely recall The Watcher’s one shot story about Jane and Mjölnir but for her to actually happening during a current run is a problem. The statement includes (paraphrase) a nod to the neglected female comic book fan, which makes it seem like a bit of a cash grab but it also acknowledges that female fronted titles are in demand and Marvel suits aren’t stupid. Captain Marvel, AKA Carol Danvers has been having an amazing run under Kelly Sue DeConnick which has spawned into a great Ms. Marvel title. X-Men founding member Ororo Munroe, aka Storm, is getting her first lead title despite having been in comics for longer than the recently decreased Wolverine who’s had multiple runs as a lead character. Marvel has been leading the charge in comic book diversity where DC is struggling to keep up. Both companies have the luxury of celebrating 50 years in the business and Marvel seems to be the first out of the old guard to truly embrace that the world is in fact very different today than it was upon some of their classic titles first printing.

 

Yesterday it was announced that John Constantine in the upcoming NBC paranormal horror series Constantine would not be bisexual as is cannon with the comic book. That’s a whole other argument but the nerd rage was interesting. They were dismayed at having this part of the character be downplayed when it was essential to who he is. The show runners also discussed that he will not be smoking as much as he does in his Hellblazer title.

At the heart of the hero is still the heart of who they are.

What does it mean that Thor is being replaced by a woman?

Nothing.

What it means is that readers will be treated to a richer experience in storytelling because you have to make your character someone to care about. As a woman, you’re invested in a character that isn’t another run of the mill damsel in distress and as a male reader, you’re still reading a comic book with a ass kicking lead with a legacy. When Miles Morales, the famously biracial kid from Queens, became the new Spider-man, the world almost imploded. From the nerd purists to the racists, Miles becoming the new Spider-man was the prime example for why comics need to change, why diversity is important and why everyone should feel welcome and represented in the great big world of comics and fantasy. They are escape routes and lessons in being a better person packed into bright pages. People of color and women should be included in this world that essentially doesn’t know the same politics as this one does.

The truth is, Marvel should be working on creating a new female lead, fresh origins, fresh stories, fresh everything. They may still be a long way off considering the success of their legacy titles but the seeds are being planted now. They’ve started that with the introduction of Kamala Khan as the aforementioned Ms. Marvel but there are established rules with that power because of the years of the hero having been male. She still needs to be a hero with an old credo in a modern world that may not welcome her.  By introducing new faces in old roles however, you demonstrate that anyone can and will be worthy of the title of hero.

The rage comes from the boat of comfort being rocked and people who don’t like change being toss out of the boat. We don’t know who the new Thor is and won’t until the title rolls out in October. We don’t know the conditions to which Thor loses his ability just as we don’t know how long she’ll be Thor. For all we know, Sif is the new Mjölnir wielder and the ‘other woman’ is Loki in disguise. That’s what makes the speculation so exciting. Taking someone and putting them into an extraordinary circumstance, like becoming something more is a universal experience. It’s a journey that everyone will go through as they discover who they are. Why should an extraordinary experience like becoming a superhero, a guardian, a crusader be only limited to men, or white men? Why should we continue to tell the other that they will remain that way because comic books say so? We are at an age of discovery, where someone somewhere at every second will discover who they are, who they are meant to be and what greater allegory is there than the superhero comic book title? Image Comics, Top Cow and Dark Horse are fantastic when it comes to the idea of diversity in storytelling but they aren’t the MAJORS like DC and Marvel are, plus, their titles tend to lean more maturely than Marvel and DC do.

I get that people are upset that this is happening to their beloved character but it doesn’t change who that character is at the core of their principles. The wild thing is that when Loki has swapped genders, it’s so totally Loki that it’s accepted. Some of it is ridiculed because people are five and have problems with things that challenge their personal belief systems and that’s cool but their distaste is tainting a very simple thing. Sure, Loki is evil and evil people do lousy things but there was no real uproar once Loki went back to being a boy. Maybe women aren’t allowed to be evil? Even if they’re the god of mischief.

After Ragnarök, Loki returned in a female body working with Doctor Doom so Thor would unwittingly resurrect his Asgardian enemies[40] and manipulated Balder to make him the new successor to the throne of Asgard.[41] In reality, Loki retained his male form after Ragnarok but hid himself inside Thor’s reborn lover Sif. During this period, Hela and Loki used magic to send Loki to the past to cause the events that led to his younger self being adopted by Odin as a means to eliminate Bor, Thor’s grandfather.

You can deal with spectral cosmic forces, space and time travel but a chick in charge, burn down the world.

Bae material either gender

What will be interesting is if the new Thor sticks around, what threat does she pose when it comes to warrior woman iconography? Gender Swapped Starbuck was the space warrior of our dreams but that didn’t come with controversy. We’re years away from Xena who was years removed from Wonder Woman who grand mothered Buffy the Vampire Slayer.. Could the new Thor be the new power character we’ve been looking for in the comic book universe? Can she become the next mainstream hero to stand with Black Widow, Maria Hill, Storm, Kitty Pryde, Black Cat, Melinda May, She-Hulk and Elektra? Of course she can, the real question is, come October, will you be willing to go on that adventure?

Personally, I’m looking forward to covers that aren’t spandex and ass shots. I mean c’mon. I’m badass, but don’t pay attention to my ass, just watch yours while it’s getting kicked.

With San Diego Comic Con just around the corner, one can only speculate that Marvel has succeeded in dominating the show floor and panels with this announcement as well as the media tour for the upcoming Guardians of The Galaxy, which features the daughter of Thanos and master assassin Gamora. Details will probably start surfacing once the con kicks off and we may get an idea of what’s in store for Thor and the new wielder of Mjölnir, so everyone who is butthurt now will be placated later on. Odds are, the answer will be so decent, that whatever controversy that may arise will be quelled by just how stupid they had been in the first place.What we do know is that Marvel is continuing the trend of understanding that readers, good solid committed, readers will always seek, find and buy the titles that interest them because that’s the business they’ve gotten themselves into.

What we want to see is a character that gives new life to an old name, that makes you discover comic books for the first time or rediscover them all over again.

FOUND OUT WHO IT IS:

DC had better step it’s game up.

The Five People You See in The Gym

It’s that time of year where we dust off the gym memberships we got at the beginning of the year because for some reason we forgot that summer typically calls for less clothing.

Morally obligated we trudge to the gym.

Here are some of the people you’ll meet while you’re there, sweating and suffering from your own success:

The Girl In The Stretchy Pants

She’s always on the Stair Master, GNC bottle in the compartment, white iPod headphones and a bright candy colored iPhone tucked into the pocket you didn’t know yoga pants came with. This one is constantly being stared at and you’re somewhat guilty of the same but it’s more out of being a gym newbie than envious of her physique. You can typically tell what her motivation is and you’re not in a particular space to judge but it’s like, c’mon, what’s the point of going to the gym if you’re just going to do that and not really do anything except text someone and casually glance up at the flat screens showing daytime talk shows on mute. You’re not being judgey but you know her Instagram feed is made up of selfies, hookah and some random shots of her living her beautiful life. Oh and the hashtags. SO. Many. HASHTAGS.

Her spirit animal:  Anyone wearing yoga pants

Playlist:

Beyonce- Partition

Iggy Azalea – Work

Rihanna – Pour It Up

Katy Perry ft Juicy J – Dark Horse

Jennifer Lopez ft French Montana – I Luh Ya Papi

The New Workout Plan

They’re a little heavier than they meant to be, a little slower and maybe saggier but goddamnit, they’re doing it, they’re really doing it. Walking a negative two miles an hour, they’re sweating and gripping the sides of that treadmill with their old school headphones on and super loud music but they don’t care. They’re retired, they’re trying to get off that heart medication and feel a little better about themselves. You’ve got to admire them because they’re going to outlive you since they managed to keep up with going to the gym while you made up at least four good reasons why you couldn’t go to the gym but had five good reasons to hit that open bar without a second thought.

Their spirit animal: The Little Engine That Could

Playlist:

Marc Anthony: Vivir Mi Vida

Theme from Rocky

Katy Perry- Roar (That song by the nice girl who talks about roaring)

Dj Khaled- All I Do Is Win

C+C Music Factory – Boriqua Anthem

The Gym Goon

They don’t move for anyone. They don’t understand excuse me and grunt when you push past them anyway to get the ten pound weights you’re pretty sure you’re going to regret picking up. They’ve got the extra large water bottle filled with something that looks like clam chowder. They’re staring intently at their reflection, pumping away and making the sounds you make when you’re trying to get between your couch and the plug without moving the couch too much. They then sweat everywhere, pat themselves on the back and leave all the way to heavy to move by a normal person weights scattered around like Lego pieces designed to cripple you before you can even start your workout.

Spirit Animal: Vintage Arnold

White Zombie- Super Beast

Kanye West – Stronger

AC/DC – Thunderstruck

Puff Daddy ft Busta Rhymes – Victory

Eminem ft Nate Dogg – Til I Collapse

The Lothorio

He strolls in wearing tight Addias pants, polo shirts and the thinnest looking shoes ever. He’s probably got on noise canceling Beats headphones or white iPod headphones and it’s blasting bachata. Yes. Soft latin music is blaring out of his ears while he picks up the heaviest looking weights on the rack, stands like he’s being drawn like one of Jack’s French girls and proceeds to lift them as though he’s making love to himself. If he’s not in a heartbreak hotel mood, he’s listening to dembow, which is also loud. For some reason, he’s come with a pack of friends. They’re all barrel chested and not in the way that says, “we’re the bastions of fitness” it’s in that “we spent money at the hookah bar and bought bottles because we can.” They pick fights in the strangest places. They are not the most interesting people in the world, just interesting to look at. Kinda like a car wreck.

Spirit Animal: Romeo Santos or Omega el Fuerte

Romeo ft Drake – Odio

Monchi y Alejandra – Dos Locos

Shakira ft  El Cata – Loca

Omega el Fuerte – Mambo Electrico

Maffio – No Tengo Dinero

The Success Story

That would be you because despite all of those hilarious stereotypes, here you are, three times a week, tired and maybe a little disheartened but dedicated. Sure, you’re not where you want to be just yet and maybe you keep forgetting to update your fitness app tracker with your progress but you’re starting to eat better and see a difference and that’s what counts. Each of these weirdos can offer some kind of inspiration for you as you get onto that treadmill, start that elliptical, ride the bike or lift five pound weights. We’re living longer than ever and we have to look good in the bodies we’re stuck with. So listen to your music, walk your walk, strut in there with your Lulemon pants, fresh Nike sneakers, brand new water bottle and work your ass off.

Ignore them. We’re all there for our own reasons. Keep up with it.

BONUS