I’m writing you from my sublet apartment in Brooklyn. Moms is dancing behind me. She’s practicing for my cousin Manu’s wedding. Her dance number is gonna be part of the ladies sangeet. That’s when the women from both lines come together to dress, sing, laugh, slit eyes at the next, gossip and make sure everyone knows where the hell they are on the hierarchy of thangs.
Has anyone else been having off the hook dreams? Like chock full ‘o dreams dreams? Wake up and still be tired from escaping, realizing, growing kinda dreams? Plasma, hi-def, LCD, kinda dreams?
Yeah, me too. Hoop dreams.
This morning I woke up thinking of hoop dreams. Maybe cause a new homegirl watched that shit off Netflix the other night, she stayed warm while some of us were trudging through the slush to make it to a dancefloor.
Hoop dreams. Ever since I can remember I was sporting bracelet sized earings. Check my 5th grade picture. Hairspray stiff bangs, like a lateral shark’s fin just right there on my forehead. Vest with the mad fall leaves print, black satin backing, gold buttons big enough to flop even after I buttoned up. White cotton turtleneck underneath. Bubble gum translucent my lip gloss is poppin. Smilin eyes with built in sparks. And earings you could shape bricks with. White. Plastic. Big enough to hide behind. Big enough to walk in and get noticed all in the same damn moment. A fifth grade picture to die for. Smile for the camera? Fuggetaboutit. I was smilin for the people. Been doin it ever since.
Hoop dreams. Been sportin $4 mid-sized heart shaped bamboos for the past two months. Bought em gold from a beauty supply joint at the Fulton Street Mall, figured they’d fade down to silver and it’d be like two for the price of one. Right now they bout a dusty bronze. That’s in *good light.* LOL
Hoop dreams. For the new year, 2008, the year I turn 30, I wish that every time someone texted or typed LOL they were truly Laughing Out Loud. You know, as opposed to when you Laugh All Silent. You know what I mean. Nah? Okay, here goes a true LAS type situation: you’re in class, you’re crackin up on the down low. bff one desk up and two desks over is in on it with you. Together, you are both LAS, Laughing All Silent. Body heaving. Eye’s tearing. Mouth as tight as a CIA trained, glass ceiling gate keeper. Do Not Make Eye Contact With Her Or You *Will* Explode. Lips shivering, anticipation rising, the moment crests on the horizon like waves. It’s almost time. Your LAS is about to be a LOL. And then it happens. And you’re ass goes home with 1000 sentences to write: I will not LOL in class. I will not LOL in class.
So, troops. Today its *hoop dreams.* God’s eyes and dream catchers pulling low these ear lobes like a fly girl buddha. Stay tuned for more of what you need: holiday cheer you can feel for real.