Yesterday, the Ohio House of Representatives passed a bill to eliminate the sales tax on feminine hygiene products. This week, the Ohio Senate has hearings on the diabolical “Heartbeat” bill to prohibit abortion if the fetus has a detectable heartbeat. The message for Ohio women? Our government hates us a little less than we thought, but still hates us a lot.
Had I mastered my attention span on Jay-Z’s birthday, you would’ve learned why American Gangster is slowly replacing Reasonable Doubt as my favorite Jay-Z album. I would have praised its narrative arc, Diddy’s soulful production, and Jay’s return to top lyrical form after That 2006 Album We Don’t Name. I would’ve explored the underappreciated title track that closes the album in a triumphant fury of high-hats, strings, and bars. And finally, I would’ve explained why “I Know” is my favorite Hov/Pharrell collaboration.
But to quote Mrs. Carter, every promise don’t work out that way.
Instead of writing about Jay-Z on Tuesday evening, I attended StoryClub Cleveland, a charitable open mic for stories. For over a year, I put their monthly events on my calendar with zero follow-throughs. I was too tired, it was too cold, it was too dark, money was too tight, I wasn’t in the mood, etc. But I pushed my ass out of the house on a school night and listened to writers do writerly stuff while I slow-sipped local craft beer. I liked it. The performances were like personal blogging, except out loud in front of 40 people. Could be a safe space for salacious stories that shouldn’t live on the Internet. Maybe.
“We need more people to make cool shit,” Dana Norris, creator of StoryClub Cleveland said. A sign to stick with my renewed commitment to personal blogging.
Sunday, I celebrated my best friend’s 35th birthday with a H.E.R. concert. The show was dope. I would have enjoyed it more if not for the pair of giraffes in heat obstructing our view of the stage while tonguing each other down. That said, from what I heard (emphasis on I COULDN’T FUCKING SEE), I loved it. Her vocals were on point. She played the hell out of the guitar. And she performed one of my personal anthems: “Be On My (Interlude).” I even enjoyed her opening acts; especially Tone Stith, a young man with an illlllll falsetto. His album, Can We Talk, is full of 90s-influenced R&B with a pleasant blend of romance and raunch (“Imma buss it down in the halls/ knock the pictures off your walls” somehow sounds sweet?). If you’re tired of boys half-crooning about women they don’t like, I highly recommend his music.
Saturday, I ended up at a fight party in a bar of ill-repute. I drank Vodka (blech) and my boots stuck to the floor when I walked (inconvenient). I watched security carry a sleeping woman out of the bar like she was a toddler who’d misbehaved into exhaustion (intriguing). But, the fight was good and I did some good old-fashioned in-person flirting and ate snickerdoodles in my car at 2:00 A.M. Not a bad time, all in all.
“You feel ready to start a fresh new beginning in your life. This is the time to develop new goals and a new vision of yourself. Many of the ideals that you currently have about your future and goals will become major themes during the next 12-year cycle.” – Jupiter conjunct Jupiter, the Grupo Venus App.
*nods* Sounds legit.
[Current soundtrack: “Shoreliner” x Revolution Brass Band]