I’m sitting out on my balcony on this Meditteranean cruise trying to look comfortable and sophisticated. I’m painting my toenails and writing in my new, leather-bound journal while absolutely freezing my ass off. I have no idea who fast a knot ( Nautical Mile) is but apparently 22 of them menas windy as hell. And the combination of the salt water spray and my blasted pen running out of ink is making me feel like my attempt at looking like the relaxe couple in the brochure is a FAIL.
Oh thank God the stateroom attendant is done and I can go back inside without so obviously lounging around while he is working. I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable around “servants” like everyone else outside of America seems to be. I just want to jump in like- I can make my own bed I promise! It’s amazing the foolish pretenses we keep up- and me, a self-prescribed non subscriber of all that branding and capitalism. All that light-skinned, skinny, good hair- ish. I mean- De La Soul is rockin in my background right? Apparently it’s gonna take more than the neo-soul and the 2 day resurgance of my daily devotional for me to transcend the overwhelming infulence of a white, patriarchial, heteronormative, capitalistic subversive culture. As evidenced by my vain attempts to look like a commercial juxtaposed with complaining about a 2 week vacation in Europe…I amaze myself. Look at all those big words I just used! told ya’ll I was deep. Or perhaps it’s just easier to think now that I have moved inside and switched out my J. Beibs for some Anita Baker. Now ya’ll know I love some Beiber but in order to channel my own powerful discourse I felt the need to remember my Uncle Loy running downt he stairs to smile at the television watching this beautiful short, round, dark skinned, deep-voiced sista. I mean honestly- I look/sound/feel a whole lot more like her than say…Beiber.
I felt bad for sitting in my stateroom instead of going down to hook up my laptopn to the Cruise’s wifi for all of 3 seconds. I’m already in serious need of a vacation from my vacation. From the mad dash to LA to Florida to Raliegh to Barcelona to see every Guadi biulding ever and be mocked by Cartier and Burberry and BVL as I run from Mango to H and M to Lefties and Top Shop and Zara and back again. I am tired of being told to relax damnitt! Vacations are all about conforming to other’s expectations of relaxation. And all I want to do is eat my Mother’s biscotti and McRando casserole.
I want a huge vat of Rosepetal Tea from the Islamic Cafe down the block from my house but I’m stuck on a cruise ship in France pretending I’m excited about the gym. I need some Tums, all this relaxation is giving me acid reflux…Oh what a rough life ( ;;winks;; and ;;grins;;)
I smirked at myself that whole last paragraph. I promise to sound appropriately appreciative After I take a nap. Because seriously- two generations out of sharecropping I’m cruising through Europe with five other Amazing Black Men and Women and that’s something to devote some devotional to.