20 May 2011

myYearbook.com 90's Party w/DJ Jazzy Jeff

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I started this blog back in 2008. Some of my posts documented my so called ‘Party Life’. You know, I’d crash events. Say I’m with the DJ. And just like that, Nat + 1 made it in yet another celeb filled, exclusive, open bar event. Like the Apollo 75th Anniversary.

Tons of fun, right?

My friends back home thought I was running this city… per Facebook photos and this here blog. But in real life, Nat wasn’t that “party all the time” chick. That was then. You should see me now. After a few years of NYC living, you get over that rockstar lifestyle. It gets old. Hell, I got old.

Ok, I’m not old. Just overit.com *Tamar Braxton voice*

I mean, I’m not a square. I’ll definitely make it out to a good party. But it gotta be GOOOOOOOD. I mean, real GOOD. The venue has to be tight. Crowd must be to my liking. And most importantly, I MUST know who is DJing. The DJ makes the party.

About 3 weeks ago, my girlfriend (Thx, Ange) sends me this invite for her job’s corporate event. See below:

*jaw drops*

Practically everything I care about in life was on this invitation. Skates. Free Alcohol. Cereal. Peanut Butter & Jelly sandwiches. 80s/90s music. Period.

When I created my May 2011 Social Calendar for my fabulous NYC chicas, I posted this event in BIG BOLD GRAFETTI font. This event can’t be missed. Nothing happening on May 19th can trump this. You gotta be a fool to miss it. I’ll go ALONE if I have to. Those were my thoughts.

I rallied up the gals. Some flaked. You know who you are. I came away with 2 troopers who were down for the cause. Hey Tiff & Coco.

My outfit! What in the world am I going to wear? Well, this is what I came away with? Likey?

Over the top, but that’s ok. When I do it, I do it big. You should try it some time.

Sidebar: I was the only one dressed up. Ask me if I care.

Upon our arrival, we had to sign a waiver. Here’s why:

Good Units (the venue) does not want to be liable for any injuries that may occur at this event. Good Units is an event space. Not an official skating rink. (I don’t think there’s a roller skating rink in Manhattan.) There’s an open bar. The liquor is a flowin. There are people who don’t know how to skate. Not me. I’m a pro. I own skates. Pink ones with glitter foam letters attached that read “No Skating Allowed” (#greekpun) Been doing this since I was 5. Yep. I had those Fisher Price adjustable joints. Don’t Play!

I digress.

So the waiver… we have alcohol, non-skaters, strobe lights, uneven pavement /stairs & drinking in the “rink” meaning wet floors thanks to the non-skaters. NO MOP in sight. Oh wait, there was a mop. We used it for the limbo contest. Bwahhhhhhh! Sign your life away and the good people at Good Units ain’t responsible.

Me to the person standing in front holding up the line because they were actually reading the waiver: “Yooo! What’s the hold up? Sign me up! They playing my sooooong!!”

Which brings me to my next topic… the DJ.

If you ain’t familiar with DJ Jazzy Jeff, Kill Yo Self! He started his set with the theme song from “The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air”. Raise your hand if you don’t know the words to that? I’ll wait.

I started to plot in my head how I was going to get past Jazzy’s camp and steal his laptop. Seriously. If it was a hit in the 80’s/90’s, he played it. From New Kids on the Block to Tone-Loc. We’d be here all day if I listed all the records he played. Ok, I’ll say a few more… Aerosmith, Phil Collins, Niravana ("Feels like Teen Spirit"), MJ, Prince, Sir Mix A Lot, Young MC, MC Hammer, Rob Base, KRS-1, Slick Rick, JJ FAD ("Supersonic"), Montell Jordan, Salt & Pepa, Run DMC & Bon Jovi. “Living on a Prayer” is my SH*T. “Oh Mickey You So Fine, You So Fine You Blow My Mind!” Yes. All of that! He ended his set with the theme-song to CHEERS!!

*drops the mic*

I was dancing non-stop. Drink in hand. In skates. While hoola hooping. I kid you not. I was in my element.

At the end of the night, I came away with a few goodies.

Posters


A Boomboox
Candy
All in this handy SOUL GLO tote.

If that ain’t 80’s, I’m not sure what is.

If you know me well, you know I’m a true die-hard 80’s baby. If you didn’t know, now you know.

Thanks for listening!

NN

03 May 2011

"Where Is The Husband?"

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“Nati, where is the husband?” my Ethiopian aunts asked.

Last weekend, my family hosted a bridal shower for my cousin. She’s getting married in Ethiopia this month. Our small celebration included traditional food and dancing, gifts, marriage advice, etc. Tons of fun!

Having a family of foreigners can be a bit challenging at times. In fact, you develop a tough skin growing up in a foreign household. You know, they say whatever they want directly to your face. No shame. For instance:

(Said in the best Ethiopian accent)

“What happened to you? You gained a lot of weight!” Then, they scrunch their faces up in disgust.

“What is going on with your face? If you drink XYZ (insert something from the health food store here), your skin will be clear. “

“What did u do to your hair?? I don't like it.”

“You still haven’t found a boyfriend, yet? What’s wrong with you?”

And my favorite:

“When are you getting married? Your baby cousins are growing too big to be flower girls.”

Gasp!

Yep. I hear these remarks every time I come home. This past weekend, they drilled me. I mean, we were at a wedding shower hosted at my mom’s house. Someone in my family was getting married. Just not me. And it may not be me for some time now. I’m cool with it. My aunts and cousins aren’t. That’s just stateside. Let’s not get into the family overseas. Don’t let me get a $5 calling card to call my aunt in Ethiopia to wish her a Happy Easter. After we get the pleasantries out the way, I get that same marriage question in Amharic. I don’t speak the language, but I definitely understand that golden question. I guess they need time to make travel arrangements. I get it. Trust me, they will have plenty of time to prepare for US travel after I make the announcement. Relax.

I’m approaching 30. That’s an old bride for foreigners. They are used to arranged marriages at the age of 14. Six children by the age of 27.

Yea. No.

How do I respond to this, you ask? Aside from the eye rolls, deep sighs, fake smiles?
Uhhh… I tell them the truth. “I’ve been married for 3 years now. Mom didn’t tell u?” I love to see their reaction when I say that. They actually start thinking to themselves like “There was a wedding? How did I miss that?” Confused as hell.

Sike.

After I get them to chuckle, I hit them with this, “Look. Stop asking. You will be the first to know. I just don’t have it right now. I know you are frustrated, Auntie Mimi. Please!” *walks away* If I had that attitude at the age of 14, Auntie Mimi probably would have yanked my ponytail as I walked away and beat the sh*t out of me with the nearest weapon (telephone cord, wire hanger, etc.) They don’t play with the “American Attitude’ thing.

I digress.

As you can see, weddings are a big deal in my family. It ain’t about the bride and the groom. It’s about the parents bluffing to their friends. Showing off and carrying on. I know my mom is so ready to throw this Broadway production of a wedding. One time, she called me at work to tell me MY wedding colors. She sure did.

I love my parents to death. I know they want me married with children living in a huge house out Northern Virginia somewhere. But, they don’t want me to rush it, marry some loser, and then end up in a nasty divorce 2 years later. They want me to do it right and when I’m absolutely ready. So my folks get that part. They actually stopped inquiring about my relationship status a few years ago.

It’s my aunts and cousins who worry the hell out of me.

“Where is the husband?” GTFOH!

NN
 
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