Guess who's gonna be belle of the ball.

I had to go down to the District yesterday to pick up our Inaugural Ball tickets in person. We're going to the Eastern Ball at Union Station, which initially gave me mixed feelings. On one hand, I wanted to go to the Mid-Atlantic Ball so that we had the chance of bumping into someone... anyone from Maryland. Someone who might have some distant connection to someone else that we knew in a previous life. On the other hand, I was excited about the venue. While I have no doubt that they'll make the Convention Center as snazzy as they possibly can, Union Station just seems like such a cooler space in which to have a ball. Then Mama Downbeats texted me to inform me that the main act at said ball we're attending is none other than James Taylor, the Maestro's favorite. That sealed the deal. I'm officially electrified to be a part of the inaugural festivities tomorrow.

I picked up Metro tickets for tomorrow as well while I was down there in the event that we decided that the Metro was the easiest way to get from point A to point be once entering the DC metropolitan area. Even the non-commemorative version have Obama's face on them. Instant souvenir!

So at any rate, the time is nigh! 24 hours and I'll be on my way to being a part of history. I'll be documenting my day tomorrow with B, Baltimore's free daily. Hop on over to B the site tomorrow to check out their inauguration coverage. And, of course, I'll be doing a wrap up here over the next few days.

Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down...

Have you seen Barack Roll? Because it's kind of amazing. A friend added it to her twitter feed, and I couldn't resist spreading the love even further.

Gosh, he's so darned dreamy!



Source

Thanks to domesticdj for the heads up.

My vanilla-scented boyfriend

You may or may not remember how excited I was a couple of months ago when I got the Obama gear from his campaign store.

Well, now there's more cause for celebration! I had coffee with Feen the other day. We don't see each other that much anymore (except for a 10-day holiday to Italy this past March), so whenever we do, much fun is to be had. She went to the Cape with her parents last week and brought me back this lovely little gift:



I absolutely FLIPPED. I have the most major un-platonic crush of life on Barack Obama. I have since way before he was a Senator. Even I'll admit that some of the Obama licensing is getting a little freaky, but for the most part, it's all in fun.

Here's my buddy hanging from Maddie's rear-view mirror:



And he smells like vanilla! Yum yum yum on all accounts.

Yes We Can!

One of my co-workers walked into my office with a USPS Priority Mail envelope and a grin on her face this morning. "I'm being nosy. Can you open it now and show me what it is?" At first, I was confused, and then I remembered that I ordered this shirt and a car magnet a week or two ago from the Barack Obama store. I was a little upset because they didn't have a Maryland for Obama shirt in their state shirts inventory. But I particularly like this one. Even my anti-Obama co-workers think it's a cool shirt. They do run a little small, and who knows if they'll shrink in the wash, so they should definitely be purchased a size up.



All in all, however, I'm pleased. If I go to AFRAM (which I still hate calling the African-American Heritage Festival) this weekend, I'll definitely be sporting it. The car magnet goes great with Maddie, my blue Mazda pride and joy, and her brand new Imagine license plate.



Also this weekend, if one mayhaps would like to spend some time inside, these are the last chances to see Nunsense and Love, Sex, and the IRS at Cockpit-in-Court, where I worked last summer.

Where everyone knows your name...

Without divesting too much, I will share that my last two months or so professionally have been an exercise in patience, humility, and will. As a result, I've been going out after rehearsals with far more frequency than usual. Last night was just one of those nights. My brother-from-another is rehearsing a show in Fells Point, so I figured it'd be easiest for us to meet down there for post-rehearsal cocktails. I will always admit that I'm a creature of habit, but occasionally I'm up for something new. Apparently, last night wasn't one of those nights... at least as far as venue is concerned. We went to our Wednesday night mainstay, Slainte Irish Pub at my eventual behest. We got a few strange looks from the bartenders who know us as Wednesday night regulars, but then sat at the downstairs bar (again peculiar for us) and started chatting. It was much quieter on Thursday than it is on Wednesday (Wednesday nights are industry night for food service workers, and all food and drink is 1/2 price, which is why we've been Wednesday night regulars since back when I still worked in a restaurant). I deviated from the norm for my beverage selection and ordered a McAllan 12-year Scotch and followed it up with Loose Cannon, the Clipper City beer that's on draught right now. I suppose that when times get tough, we stick to what we know to help us perservere. At least I do. Admit it-- you do, too.

And this post is getting WAAAAAY too Carrie from Sex and the City, so I'm going to buck up and pretend nothing ever happened. You do the same, okay? I live with you with my soon-to-be-husband Barack Obama's first general election campaign video. He's so dreamy.



I would talk about the drama going on with Sheila Dixon, but it pisses me off too much.

How apathetic can Baltimorons be when it comes to our nation?

So I'm sitting in my office, playing Will.I.Am's "Yes. We. Can" music video over and over again because I'm a sucker for inspiration. I asked my co-worker who's similarly comparable to me in age if she was going to vote in the Maryland primaries next week. She said no. I chastised her across the hallway and she admittedly tuned me out.

Fast forward to 20 minutes later. To protect his privacy and whatnot, we'll call him "Dude." Another co-worker has this conversation with me verbatim:

Dude: Hey Tiffany... Osama Bin... oh crap. I keep messing up his name. OBAma. What nationality is he?
Me: (assuming he means race, and not nationality, since only AMERICANS can run for President. Of. The. United. States. Of. America.) Ummm... he's half black and half white.
Dude: Wow. When's the last time a black person was President?
::awkward silence::
Me: Dude, there's NEVER been a black President. That's why it's a big deal.
Dude: Wow. So there's a lotta history being made? Like, there could be a first woman President or a first black President?
Me: (disgusted with life) Yes.
Dude: But they're not like both on the same side, right? Like one one of them's a Republican or something, right?
Me: (attempting to step back from the ledge) They're both Democrats.
Dude: Oh, so it's not necessarily definitely history in the making. A Republican could win.
Me: (done) No, that's not exactly possible this time around.

And then another co-worker revealed to me yesterday that HE can't vote in the primary because he registered too late, so he's not eligible. He's 25. Just registered to vote.

I'm not quite sure why no one is realizing how important the MD/DC/VA primaries are on 2/12 after "Super" Tuesday proved to be pretty anti-climactic for the Democrats, but I hope everyone else cares at least enough to go out and let their opinions be heard. For those of you who have no opinions, write in Dave Chappelle.

Still militant

Today's the "National Day of Action" for the nonsense that's happening in Jena.



"You must be the change you wish to see in the world." -Mahatma Ghandi

Are you wearing your black today?

It's 2007, but that does that really mean anything?

Growing up amongst the WASPs in the third richest county in America, I didn't really get in touch with my "black side" (if you will) until a year or two ago. I blame it on my environment constantly, but anyone close to the Downbeat camp will agree that I've made far strides in the past few years. A black guy I dated introduced me to Spike Lee movies like School Daze. Baby steps. Then a Korean guy I dated introduced me to hip hop a few years later. Step step step. None of that, however, prepared me for the mass gathering of "my people" (the Black Student Union) in the center of my college campus in the middle of the night, which one of my girlfriends will tell you left me clutched tightly to her in horror and amazement at (in my words at the time): "that many black people in one place at one time." Clearly, I'm no militant black woman. I prided myself through my more naive years in transcending race lines. Then I learned a little about the world and the people in it and prided myself instead in just looking past race lines... not making them important, citing that it was indeed the year 2007. Now at the decrepit and jaded age of 23, I've prided myself in being unapologetically irreverent (bordering on inappropriate)... taking little to no shame in finding the most possible humor and levity out of all things "color"-related. Laughing through Imus. Rolling my eyes at Tyler Perry. Making jokes out of the NAACP's highly publicized funeral for the N-word. After all, life isn't nearly as fun if you're not laughing hysterically through it with the people who bring you joy.

So at any rate, I decided to take a break from Perez and Michael K this morning at work when the idea popped into my head to reacquaint myself with The Boondocks. Today's strip was just too hilarious to pass up. It satirizes the very real fact that Bob Jones University just recently recinded its long-standing policy against students dating across race lines. HILARIOUS! I immediately e-mailed it to my very Irish boyfriend, my black girlfriend who married a white man, my BFF with a penchant for making slightly racist jokes, and my open-minded mother (whatever that means). And then I sat back and prided myself in how far I've come: I could laugh at race-related satire and share it with others.

I went through the majority of the rest of my day at work when one of my co-workers walked into my office and asked me if I was wearing black tomorrow. I'd completely forgotten-- tomorrow, September 20th, has been set aside as a day for thousands upon thousands of people across the nation who are disgusted with the situation in Jena, Louisiana to wear black. To show their protest with the modern-day Jim Crow law enforcement and to stand in solidarity with the young men and their families who are being unfairly prosecuted by a heavy-handed District Attorney. Everytime I read more about the developments, my heart breaks a little more and I question what statements like "we've come so far" really mean. That there could be something called "a white tree" at a public high school in this country in the year 2007 makes me think we might as well be in 1930. And it also makes me question every time I've found levity or humor in a situation that's racially charged. If things like this are still happening in this day and age, maybe we haven't come far enough to be able to make jokes. Maybe it really is a big deal that Imus called some girls "nappy headed hoes." I thank God that I've never been put in a situation like that... and at the same time, I'm afraid that if we've regressed this far in 2007, enough progress will not have been made in 2027 that my children won't risk being put in a similar situation.

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