I want someone to name me one problem, sans the weather, affecting the Earth today that is not directly or indirectly traceable back to European imperialism as its root cause. Go.

So Cam’ron was shot early yesterday morning in a carjacking attempt, probably around the same time that I was standing in line at F.U.R. for the Kappa party that no Nupes were getting into but otherwise enjoying Club Parking Lot in the 40° cold. And a good thing, too, because I was definitely in the car with part of the Dipset hype squad earlier that night getting set up for a bustdown. Allow me to explain.

So I’m on my way to the step show (which is at the Armory) and I’m taking the Metro since none of my girls are going. So this lady walks in, who I assume is an AKA because she’s in a pink and green outfit (and what grown woman would go to the stepshow in a pink and green outfit and not be a soror, right?) trying to sell a stepshow ticket. I’m like, nah, I’m thinking about getting rid of mine myself (since it was rainy and cold and I’m lazy) and she’s like, well how are you getting there? And I’m like, I’m taking the Metro. And she’s like, well I’ll go ahead and go and give you a ride if you know how to get there. So I’m like, sounds like a decent plan and go upstairs to get the directions. So I come back down and she’s standing at the SUV, in which there are like 3 guys. Now, the rational Dani said “hmm, this doesn’t look like a good plan,” but of course the dumb lazy Dani said, “just get in the car, it’s cold.” So I did. And we sat there for about half an hour, I’m chit chatting and being personable, and the lady is, I assume, doing who knows what outside the car. So after a while the driver hops in and we take off.

Since I was in the very back of the car and in the middle of a conversation (okay, I was macking with the cute dude and he’s telling me how me and my girls are going to get into the club for free) it took me like a minute and a half to realize that the driver of the car was not the aforementioned lady who offered me a ride, but in fact some completely different dude. This actually came to my attention as the guy I was talking to asked me where my friend went. So I’m like, wait… she offered me a ride and told me to get in the car… and he’s like, okay, she came up to us and asked if she could have a ride because she didn’t know how to get to the Armory, and then she never came back. He’s like, but we’re going to the step show, we’ll still get you there, which might have sounded decent if we weren’t moving in the opposite direction.

Fuuuuuck.

Now the scared Dani is going, “tell them to stop the car and let you out NOW.” The rational Dani is going, “if you kirk out they’re either going to get agitated or put you out on the side of Georgia Avenue somewhere in NE DC in the rainy dark and you don’t know where the hell you are… be cool.” This time I actually did the arguably rational thing and waited until I was at least in a well-lit populated area, which happened to be in SILVER SPRING MARYLAND.

So as soon as I see lights I ask them to please just go ahead and let me out here, and by the grace of God, they oblige, and I only have to wander around for 10 minutes before I finally find the Metro station. I did get a free Dipset mixtape out of the deal, though. It’s piff.

this page renders for shit in IE/Win. Why do people still use IE anyway, and WHY would you STILL use IE on a Mac? Don’t you have to like specifically look for the app in the dark pits of nested folders? That’s telling you something.

I’ve been trying to put my grandmother on to Firefox, especially since she basically had to have her computer rebuilt because it was so full of popups and spyware and dialers (thanks to my randy teenage cousin and his unsupervised internet exploits). However, my grandma is a woman of habit. I’m one step away from deleting the icon from her desktop, but I’m afraid she’d call Bellsouth irate because her internet isn’t on the computer anymore. le sigh.

Last week she offered to send me my grandad’s and uncle’s old Verizon phones since mine has been showing its tail lately, and I could just have my number transferred over. But first she asks me if Verizon will make me pay any delinquent bills on their accounts before I can use the phones. That was the first sign that this plan was not gonna work out for me. So the phones arrive in the mail an they look like crap. They were both new, so I’m not sure what the problem is. Come to find out, Gramma decided to disinfect the phones with rubbing alcohol and ended up stripping the metal/plastic off the face of the phones. Now, after seeing that you’ve mucked up one phone, WHY WOULD YOU DO IT TO THE OTHER ONE? Gramma, I love you, but this has got to stop. This is the same person who had me itching like a crack fiend for days because she washed all my underwear in straight colorsafe bleach (didn’t read the bottle). My Gramma is a smart woman, but she just straight doesn’t follow directions. I wish I’d known about this back in the day when I was getting beat for doing something off the wall.

The moral of the story is: Grandmas are helpful, they just need to be watched.

“hunger hurts, but starving works when it costs too much to love.” ~ Fiona Apple

Happy birthday to me! Yesterday I turned 21, finally legal, and I spent the first weekend of the LaSherinelle October Homecoming Birthday Smash with my friends in Greensboro, for NCA&T’s homecoming festivities. This makes the third birthday that’s passed without my dad saying shit.

I suppose he’s not totally to blame, I haven’t called him since the summer before my sophomore year either, but one would think that he would be the bigger man and at least call on my birthday. Or Christmas. Or anytime. But then again, we’re talking about the same person who’s never lived more than an hour away from me, but has still never come to visit more than four times in a given year. The same person who would travel to Charlotte to shop at the mall across the street from my home without even calling or coming by. The same person who told me he wasn’t coming to my high school graduation, but still came on the low just so he could tell his people that he went. (He never intended for me to know that he was there; my mom spotted him on the way to the bathroom. He admitted it several months later.)

I finally got fed up when he promised to drive me to Raleigh for summer school, but completely stood me up so that I had to get a last minute train ticket and get my best friend to drive me there and move me in. Thanks, Erin. When you can depend on a flighty eighteen year old girl before you can depend on your own father, it might be time to let that shit go. So when he called to ask me how I was doing on my move-in day, I entertained him politely and just never called back. I think he called me once later that summer, but I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of knowing any of my business. To this day, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know that I no longer go to State, that I’ve changed my major, that I spent the last semester at home, or anything else that’s gone on in my life in the past three years. I ran into him last summer at a funeral, but otherwise neither of us has made any effort to contact the other.

I feel bad sometimes, horribly bad, because you hate to think that someone who should care about you more than anyone else just doesn’t. That is as tough a pill to swallow at 2 as it is at 21. Long ago, I saw a program on TLC that said that men basically aren’t loving creatures, and so while mothers almost always love their babies to pieces the minute they’re born, fathers generally have to fall in love with their kids. I used to think that I had done something wrong, that I wasn’t smart or pretty or charming enough to make him fall in love with me. But a few months of therapy and a breakdown later, I realized that he’s just a shiftless bastard. My therapist once asked me what I dream about when I daydream about him, and I replied that I always imagine myself a giant and he a little ant-sized person, and I would shake him and squeeze him until he hurt as much as he hurt me. Despite our efforts to guide my fantasies in a more constructive direction, I still have those dreams. He has no excuses. It was never my responsibility to teach him how to be a good parent, no matter how much he tried to make me believe it. I don’t deserve to be treated that way by anyone, and he doesn’t deserve any kindness from me. So if I have to cut someone out to get the treatment I deserve, so be it. I’d rather be ignored than mistreated.

I should admit something: I actually wrote this post a week ago and saved it until today because I thought I’d be too angry and dissapointed to actually write this after the fact. But you know what? I didn’t even think about him calling or not calling untilI went online and saw the post stub saved under my drafts. Everyone who matters has already let me know that I matter to them, and that is truly all that matters to me.

Apple has released video iPods. I told you so, bitches.

I knew that the iPod was just waiting to be one step more than what it already was. After the photo-capable ones appeared, I knew video was coming up next. So I held back, and my waiting was surely enough not in vain. Once these first gens get out of the way (you know they’re going to have bugs and battery issues) I can FINALLY feel economically justified getting an iPod. Shoot, I might just get one for Christmas anyway and dash consumer savvy by the wayside.

Power and battery(3)

Built-in rechargeable lithium ion battery

Playback time (60GB model)

* Music playback time: Up to 20 hours when fully charged * Photo slideshow with music viewing time: Up to 4 hours when fully charged * Video playback time: Up to 3 hours when fully charged

Battery life on the 60g model looks really good, long enough to actually watch a movie under prime conditions. (of course I’m looking at the 60g… who do you think I am?) but the 30g model only gives you 2 hours of view time. If you’d actually be one to watch a ripped DVD on your ‘pod, that might not be enough time to view the whole flick. I still wish Apple would rethink the whole built-in battery thing, because I don’t feel good at all about having to replace a $600 device three years from now because I can’t get a full charge. Having dealt with this crappy Powerbook battery for what, four years now, I know how irritating that diminishing charge thing can be.

My dream was always to have the iPod that was also a cell phone, PDA, and digital camera, but knowing my knack for misplacing my stuff in safe places (my room, my couch, my grandparents’ house) it might not be such a good idea to have all my necessities wrapped up in one device. This is as close to perfect as it gets. Oy vey, and we give up scholarships like millionaires over here.