Didn’t post on Friday. I hadn’t done that on a weekday in a while.
See, I used to post every Friday and maybe some other times because that coincided with my column. Since the column doesn’t run anymore, I’ve been torn on when to update. I just do it every weekday now because I need the practice and don’t want y’all forgetting about me. Remember, as much as this is for fun, it’s about SSP–SHAMELESS SELF PROMOTION. Can’t do that if I’m not posting, can I?
Either way, Friday proved to be an interesting day. I’ll tell something more about it later, but I’m up now getting some things ready for NABJ this week.
Yay-yuh!

For those unaware, the NABJ is the National Association of Black Journalists, a guild of us colored writers. This is my first conference, so I’m gassed. It’s also pretty metaphorical, standing as the first official thing I’ll do now that writing is the total focus of my professional life. It was hard to really see myself as a writer when I was spending twelve hours a day in my office doing economics. Well, that hell is done, so a writer I am.
Well, not really. I still think I’m a thinker that writes this shit down. I really think that there’s a difference. Seeing yourself as just a writer is limiting. If I were doing this same stuff on television, I’d be the same cat doing the same things.
Anyway, this’ll be pretty cool. In the last couple of years, I’ve had the privilege of meeting some folks I’ve always looked up to, and I’ve had them talk to me like I was a peer or something. That’s some spooky shit. However, that’ll stop me from walking around NABJ like a frightened babe in the woods. I even went and got me some fancy bidness cards printed out and everything.
Yes, that was way too exciting for me. More than anything, I’m excited to say I’ll be living somewhere long enough that my cards will be anything current this time next year.
But that’s my big thing…and did I mention it’s in Atlanta? ATL, get at me, baby. Baba his the city on Thursday.
Should you wonder hwo much I love Atlanta, whenever I make this drive and I get to Spaghetti Junction, I call people and utter one phrase–“Finally! The kid..has COME BACK…to AT…LANTA.” Man, the Rock is that dude.
But this is a trip into professional adulthood. That should be fun.
And if it ain’t, it’s still Atlanta. There’s a great club across the street from the Greyhound Station that I gotta hit up.
What you know ’bout that there?
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Gotta go to work for one of the last times. In case you’re curious, there’s something difficult about working a job AFTER you’ve gotten the check that covers all the services provided. It works, though. I could write a game theory paper on this.
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Best of luck in Austin, Ashy Larry. I’ll make it down there soon.