OreoFAIL…or WIN?

Also white on the inside

I did a very un-Oreo thing last night and attended a screening put on by a group of black writers. Yup. Me, in a room with a couple dozen other of colors watching a movie about the Harlem Renaissance.

Yikes.

To my credit, however, I did have this conversation before the film started…

Him: Are you gonna have some of that chicken?

Me: No.

Him: Oh, what are you, a vegan?

Me: No, I just don’t like spicy things…or wings. The wings just aren’t my favorite part of the bird. I am really excited about this gouda, though!

Him: What’s gouda?

BUT, before I cleansed my palate with some imported Dutch cheese, I totally realized…we DO all look alike!

Going into the Writers Guild building, all I knew is that a group of black writers–some of whom I’d met before–was going to be screening this film.

I walked in the building and hung my head in just a bit of shame when the security guard said “Oh, are you here for the screening?”

He showed me to the elevator and I headed up stairs. I got of the lift and looked around for where my event might be. I found a room full of colors who looked familiar enough, I mean there were folks with twists like the last time I met this group…  I walked inside and sat down. They continued their conversation around me…a conversation that I quickly found out was NOT about the screening I was meant to be attending.

After a few awkward beats, I grabbed my new pashmina (thanks, Casey!) and slunk out of the room…found another gaggle of of colors, had the aforementioned chicken/cheese convo and sat down for the film.

On one hand, I felt like such a non-color, I mean, they was a group of RBP. They must have been who I was looking for, right? How was I to know that there might be two groups of RBP gathered for two totally different purposes in the same place without authorities being alerted.

But on the other hand, I felt like a real RBP…after all, I was seen in the vicinity of almost 50 other of colors. And I hardly had time to sound any of my Oreo distress calls. The gouda thing was helpful, but I did just finish rereading Fear of Flying and am setting up an appointment with a new riding instructor. The movie started before I could spit out those gems. Plus, I couldn’t even blush when I realized my mistake in the first room.

What do you think? Was my night made of fail or win?

Also, when you do discover you’re in the wrong meeting…how do you sneak out. I thought about making light of the sitch and skipping away. But instead, I pretended like I had to go to the bathroom…with my wrap…and my purse…and my notebook…and my bottled water.

None of us are perfect. See other Oreofails here: musicvideofail, whatareyouseeingthisweekendfail and evenharvardprofsfailfail.

New Oreo Rule: Enjoy April Fools Day b/c Normally Black People Don’t??

Do not try to make this guy laugh--by ruining his $73,000 car. He will not laugh. At all.

This guy says black people don’t like pranks.

Unfortunately, African-American’s — particularly black men — don’t take too well to pranks or April Fool’s Jokes. Sad but true.

He also uses apostrophes incorrectly, but that’s a different issue.

For evidence, he cites Punk’d and basketballer Kenyon Martin’s negative reaction to having his Range Rover filled with buttered popcorn.

I can understand Kenyon’s anger. If you’re going to fill up a luxury vehicle with a food that will severely damage its interior, does it have to be something so carby?

Full story is here.

Don’t forget other Oreo rules like how to bring sexyback to the plantation.  How to write about regular black people. And what to do when you find yourself face to face with another well studied Oreo.

Get the Loathing Started Young

Gather the kids around the computer, this one’s for them!

Hey kids of color. Wanna worry about you ability to achieve as much as your teachers do? Then check out the ad at this FootAction store!

I’m not sure which is more horrible. The thug with the grill or the girl much too young for boobs wearing a dress that shows off where her boobs will be while some nowhere near-man boy touches where her underboob will develop in about 10 years. Either way, none of those words should be associated with children. My apologies.

Anyone wanna join me in a cleansing round of cricket?

Self Loathing – Now Measureable!

Ever wanted to see just how much you’re glad you’re not an RBP?

Then log on to Harvard’s Project Implicit to get Ivy League recognition of your self hate!

Nice that you can see your social phobias in plain, written words, huh?

Show me now!

The short online test shows whether or not takers have a preference for certain types of faces or if they associate positive or negative things with those faces.

Through other tests, you can also see if you can recognize presidents or famous people better. If you have a clue as to what foreign countries look like. If you’re creeped out by gays or body fat. And/or if you think white people or black people are more likely to carry weapons.

Warning: website does not come with tissues or pre-written apology notes.

Don’t worry, people on both sides of the pond feel the same way! And if you’re young enough, you might just admit it! Did you take the test? Congrats, you deserve a treat!

It’s Funny Cause it’s …

a) old

b) tired

c) an overused trope

d) lazy writing

e) umm…true?

Included in my work writing for and working in film and television, I often get the chance to do coverage. For the two people who aren’t my industry friends reading this blog, coverage is what happens when a non-executive type like myself reads a script for an executive type and writes a synopsis and feedback on the quality of the script. This is often a script’s first step toward not being made and provides writers like myself with valuable info.

Do enough coverage and you have a head’s up on what’s being submitted so you can either jump on a good bandwagon or avoid a tired subject. Also, you get a by proxy education as you read what does and does not work. What does work, apparently, because I’ve read it about a million times in the 5 years I’ve been doing this is one simple fact:

RBP are sassy, mean and HILARIOUS!

I just read a script and since I’ll probably be sued for saying who it was for or what the script was or who the writer was, I’ll just say this and hope that s/he is reading.

One of the characters was described thusly: “SHAKWANDA, a sassy African American receptionist…” and then she went on to have every line be “oh, nuh uh!” “I do NOT need this today,” “you best leave me alone fo’ I cut you,” etc. This would be unremarkable except that with the exception of one glorious family script that for the same above reasons, I cannot name, every script with a black character that I end up reading  is pretty much written this way.

There is some variation, of course. Sometimes the RBP in question is an athlete, sometimes an oversexed teen. But the character is always the same. They are not the hero, they are not the love interest, their lines haughtily punctuate the ends of scenes and their character arc only bends them from totally sassy, to slightly less sassy.

Needless to say, I am soooo over this.

I mean, c’mon. Just like I said in my open letter to Oprah, I have worked waaaaayyyy too hard for the only thing I need to be able to avoid are an accent and an attitude. I was born not talking that way. I would need the best accent coaches ever to figure out how to say grrrrl. And those years of ballet did not teach me to roll my neck. So help me keep my game up by keeping up yours.

Click here for more on an Oreo’s experience at the movies.

And here for an exec’s views on the Oreo experience.

Where am I supposed to park this?

What was pitched as as a trip for tapas in Topanga turned to a treacherous trial of trying to squeeze my sedan in a safe spot  the side of a steep steep

*sigh* I guess I will just have to carry a valet around with me.

slope two blocks away from the party.

The view was amazing, the company was great and the food was fantastic, so much so that the three pounds I just lost returned with a vengeance.

Getting out of my car, however, required a firm understanding of physics, cleats and a leap of faith as I sprung from my 45 degree angled seat, braced for landing on the soft, gravely shoulder and scampered across the street so that I didn’t get squashed by cars flying around the blind curve.

And while I will rarely if ever turn down an invite for Spanish appetizers, I did wonder, what’s the etiquette when you live in a place where parking a car is next to impossible. The house had a small driveway–enough for the family’s car–but that was it. The neighborhood was situated in the middle of a mountain pass, so there were no businesses nearby with parking lots available to borrow. There was hardly any shoulder on the road and what shoulder there was was taken up by the sharp rise of a slope.

In LA, we have plenty of areas like this. There’s mountains like Topanga where you can slide off to your death without too much effort. Permit heavy areas like West Hollywood, where even with a guest pass, you sometimes need to bring an extra pair of shoes for the half mile hike you will inevitably take to your buddy’s pad, Hollywood proper where irresponsible city planning has led to parking fees hovering somewhere around $2/fifteen minutes, Downtown where the proximity of decent area to skid row is unsettling or Hancock Park and Silverlake type areas that are just so popular that even with a decent amount of street space. Though, I guess there’s always the 101 and 405 where lots of people find places to park.

What do you think? Should invites to places like this come with warnings/suggestions? A valet? Or maybe it’s just a clever way to invite solitude?

Baby Oreos, Coconuts, Twinkies!

Look at these little guys and girls! They’re so excited to see in this woman what they could be. And if they work very hard, what they will be some days.

Awww, reminds me of me when I was their age.

Thanks, Pampers. For ensuring that Oreodom continues from generation to generation.

See also: Other Food Based Nicknames, Oreo Origins, and Why Self Loathing is Good For You.

Hipster Jeans Can Save Your Life

RBP - as seen in NYC

Guys: More evidence that being an Oreo is not only socially expedient, but healthy as well!

You know how RBP guys like to wear their jeans all baggy and low? Well, doing that can kill!

Clyde Haberman wrote about the lack of safety in saggy slacks in his New York Times column. Haberman says:

Hector Quinones didn’t amount to much in life, but he managed in death to make a powerful fashion statement. The statement boiled down to this: Don’t be a jerk like me.

Not nearly enough people seem to be taking his lesson to heart.

Back in December, Mr. Quinones killed three men in an apartment on the Upper West Side, a bloodbath described by the police as drug-related. Mr. Quinones was intent on shooting more people, they said, only he was forced to flee. He ran to the fire escape. But the low-slung pants he was wearing fell down, the police said. He tripped over them, took a tumble and landed with a thud in the building’s backyard.

There you had it: death by trousers.

So gents, head on over to your neighborhood Urban Outfitters or Hot Topic and pick up a pair toute de suite! Don’t worry about that numb/tingling feeling in your nether regions when you shoehorn yourself in to the right pair. That just means they’re working!