Just a thought.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Lisa Hu Hartwell


Lisa Wu Hartwell. I have decided to use her as inspiration for my human self. I mean, she is such a go getter. Everything she sets her mind to she not only accomplishes, but blows it out of the water. And she stays busy.

Nike as motivation

Saturday, July 25, 2009

I've had a hard time recently. I am battling half of myself. The half of me that likes to convince that it is easier not to try, not to get out of bed, not to bother. This is the half that caused me to drop out of college when I got pregnant. It is very clever at creating excuses that make loads of sense. I used to think this half was simply a lazy gene a high school counselor told me I had as I barely graduated. But I now understand it is depression that I battle. It comes and goes. Mostly goes. But when it's here, it makes sure no one is unaware. I stop answering my phone and won't even check voice mails. Everything irritates me. And everything becomes next to impossible to attempt. Usually, I just lay down, all day, and hope it will leave. Sleeping means I can't overeat, I can't yell at anyone, and I don't have to have the 'recognize your higher self' pep talks my hubby likes to give. He's good at them actually. And they are quite effective after we've gotten past me throwing books at him. When I'm like this I just want to be left alone, however, that tends to be a main trigger of these episodes. When I have nothing to do, I began to feel useless. I detest feeling so. I thrive off of being useful. Particularly, I enjoy being knowledged on little known, yet gravely important truths. And I enjoy enlightening others, unintentionally. I notice I tend to assume everything I know is common knowledge. Therefore, at times, I get exasperated with regular folk. This category includes the undergrads I advise via our Black Affairs Council. I am constantly astounded when I hear myself saying stuff like, you've never heard of Little Brother? You do know the student center has more than three floors; Fastweb.com has so may scholarships you can apply for; It's considered inappropriate to tell people what you want to pledge and even worse for you to imitate their strolls and signs; All blacks ain't Christian; Original Egyptians were not the same color as me; The bible was commissioned by Constantine; The banjo comes from Africa; Integration hurt us more than helping us and so forth and so on. I mean these are all little things, but I figured everyone knew this stuff. My point. My point is that this makes me feel useful. I currently have several things I can do to feel useful, but I have had a hard time motivating myself to get to it. Just do it. Nike.

I am trying to just do it. I know I can accomplish any and all I set my mind to. But I can't seem to set my mind on anything. I haven't even been motivated to type. But I am pressing ever onward. I thought to myself today, I have a healthy family, my husband is Mr. Wonders, my kid is the cutest, I'm beautiful, healthy, inspirational (I am told), I am on the path I have set out for myself. I have concluded my human self, as opposed to my detachable spirit, is doing what Westernized humans do. I am trying to find reasons to be unhappy. I have a wonderful life except for this depression that I can't seem to kick. I can ignore it and delay it but it always returns.

I chatted with one of my online buddies yesterday and she was telling me how she has so much she can do creatively but her thing is finding the time. I told her just go after it and time will be made. I need to tell myself that. I just have to do what it is I want and it will get done. Just do it. My new mantra. Just do it.

Can't a girl have a drink?

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

I'm posting because I need to write. An update I suppose. This weekend is my school's Black Alumni Reunion. I am THRILLED. I am currently enrolled but I am alum too. Got my first degree here. And my friends are coming! (I know you wanna scroll down and say, didn't this chick say she ain't got no friends?) But they are and I'll be nice and inebriated. *sigh*

Hubby and I had a lunch date today and I told him, "I've never been to the vineyard. That'll be fun. I am so ready for the drinking to begin." Because that's what we did in undergrad. We drank. And what better way to commemorate our experience than by drinking. To which he responds, "I think you should stay as far away from alcohol as possible." I politely told him no. I will be drunk. Thank you.

Where does he get off!?! I NEVER drink. The last Black Alumni I was nursing (no drinking) and the one before I was pregnant (no drinking). My kid needed me, so I didn't go out except to a BBQ. I am not an old maid nor a "mama" meaning my life is defined by the fact of my child's existence. I want to have fun. I think hubby just wants me to jump aboard his purification train. He's an athlete and wants to be in top shape. But also for his own spirituality. Which I think is lovely. Honestly. But I'm just getting over caffeine (I say as I sip my iced mocha with soy). I love people but don't fully enjoy myself in "party" situations without alcohol. Why you ask? Because I only like to be around Black people. And unfortunately, where I live, black parties only play bullshit music which I will spend my entire night complaining about and breaking down the degrading and destructive messages if it where not for alcohol to drown out the lyrics and keep my head bobbing to the nonsense. And I don't go out anyway. Just once in awhile. I last went out one night in May and before that the last weekend in February and even that was to my girl's house where we all sat around and watch the BET version of Malcolm X followed by a game of taboo til 4 in the morning. That is my going out.

Anyway, Hubby wound up saying, just have a good time. Enjoy yourself. I'm glad he did, because otherwise I would have felt guilty drinking around him.

This is why I look forward to moving to Atlanta. I'm going ahead of him. Perhaps I will find some stimulating places to visit that don't require me to drink in order to enjoy them. I'm told in L.A. there are all sorts of Black people "like me" that gather in convenient nightlife spots. We'll see.

The Uppity Down to Earth Black Chic

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

I've been re-evaluating myself on the whole, my personality, how I come off to others, what I believe, yadda yadda ya. I know in my last post I was talking about how I find I have terrible friends. But I think at times I may also be a bad friend. Rather, I am bad at being a friend sometimes. Since my Sun has arrived, 3 years ago, I don't do phone conversations. Maybe no one does. But I can't sit on the phone and just talk about whatever. Maybe it's because I don't have anything to talk about. Maybe not. I know the times when I find I would like to have an in depth convo, hubby is always near by. And he likes to eavesdrop. Everything is not for him to hear. We are married and all, but my business is mine and his is his. I don't even go through his phone. NEVA.

Back to the point. I also mentioned previously there was a person who was trying to be a good friend to me, but I allowed my own insecurities to get in the way. There was more than one now that I have thought about it. In fact, I have a very good friend who served as an example and motivation for me. But previously, I always felt like I kept failing to live up to some imaginary standards for her; Meaning, I created a standard based on her wonderful example and failed to meet it by far and thus allowed myself to think she thought I was a failure as well. Thankfully, one thing I have learned in all my lonesomeness, try, try again. And today I am back on track. She is still a key motivation of mine and I made a move to contact her, let her know how I felt and she is coming to visit me! She is a person I can feel at home with, if you know what I mean.

I also realized I may come off as "holier than thou" to some people who may look up to me. Years ago, I recognized that people had begun to put on some type of pedestal. It was shared with me time and time again that something I had said or did had caused someone to make significant, positive, positive changes to their lives. More often than not, these were people who I did not know on a personal level. I was constantly recommended for various things, such as serving as master of ceremonies, sitting as a representative on board meetings, having dinner with distinguished guests and on and on. This was (and still mostly is) my life in the academic realm. I use to shrug off people's suggestions that I was so inspirational mostly because I felt I was a fraud. I don't feel that way anymore. However, I do fear that I have become a perfect example of what I detest. A self-righteous bitch. Let me clarify, some years ago, I knew this one chic who was nappier than thou, blacker than thou, more righteous than thou, all of it. She had the nerve to be a stuck up down to earth black girl. Me and my girl got a kick out laughing at her. She had no problem be rude and obnoxious to black people still in need of "waking up." Worse, she was even rudder to folks who were new, shall we say, to the black consciousness thing. She basically, had a BAD attitude and not Michael Jackson bad. We always did this thing where we'd have a gathering at someone's house on a weekend day so people could come and sing, or read poetry or whatever. It's was a means of stimulation and good company. At some point, after this girl left, I think, it was decided to be moved to my house. I agreed and ol' girls good friend suggested we call it by the same name it had when it had been at the girl's house like three or four years before. I wanted other names but agreed. It's what everyone else wanted. Do you know this chic called me and told me I had no right to call it that because people would think it was the same thing and it WAS NOT seeing as I was the person organizing it. (this is all her accusations) It was actually her friend organizing but whatever. I just wanted to share how damn uppity she was. Anyway...

The other day, I was in a preparation meeting for an event we have going on. Before we started, this girl I had previously done some events with asked me if I had twisted my hair again. No, I told her I was locking it. But I'm sure I may have made a face. Because I am told I make faces when people annoy me so I am sure I may have made some type of face when the girl suggested I had "twisted" my hair again. I know the last time I saw her at an event, her friend who came with her told me she didn't have "good hair" like me. I am positive I rolled my eyes and responded, "I get so sick of black people and this good hair bad hair non-sense." I know, it was mean. But I do, and I'm tired of being the polite teacher at times. It doesn't help that most of the people I act snobbishly towards are at least five years younger than me. At Least. I have attempted to curb my attitude by refraining from saying anything at all. However, people get to asking me questions in attempts to be my friend (ah, the irony). "What church do you go to?" "I don't go to church. I'm not Christian." "You're not Christian?!? Aren't you afraid to go to hell? OR I thought all black people were christian! OR How can you not believe in god?"

This gets much eye rolling and patronizing comments from me. Because I am tired of answering the same folly over and over again. I am just tired of being everyone teacher for things outside their realm. Go pick up a book or google it or ask ya professor. If you not in my classes, don't come to me!

I guess my point was that though this is how I think, this is most likely how I come off. Looking down my nose at folk though 90% of the people I run into are taller than me. I fear I've turned into the girl I mentioned earlier. And I don't want to be that person. But at the same time, I feel like I needn't be the spokesperson far all that you find "counter-culture." Sure, I eat healthy, do yoga, read reference books for fun, sleep to Buddhist chanting, loc my hair, have casual conversations with my ancestors, wear wraps on my head a dashikis with my jeans, married a foreigner, let my 3 y.o. make major decisions for himself, and out rightly speak against 9-5 jobs. But those are my decisions, and my life, and I feel it's personal. Additionally, when hearing statements, directed at me, about the way I go about my life that reflect your ignorance towards my lifestyle, I can't help but physically cringe. Sometimes I find myself surprised that close minded individuals still exist. I don't think we can afford to be in this day and age.

Funny, in the middle of typing all this I had a convo with a student who wandered into the museum. He mentioned that he is mentoring teens and his number one policy which he is firm on is no premarital sex. He's a nice guy, so I didn't bother countering. What's wrong with folks these days honestly?

Confessions of an Ex Fat Girl (Relationships)

Sunday, June 28, 2009

BeautifulBrwnBabyDol of youtube speaks esteem and changes in relationships as she lost weight. I sincerely appreciate this video though I may have never been at a point where others would have called me "fat," I think her remarks of relationships in general are worth sharing.


Anything goes? For real?

Saturday, June 20, 2009

I am so fickle when it comes to relationships. In particular, friendships, between women. I have many, many female friends, meaning people that I am friendly with. Nice, amicable, we can kick it and have a nice time. There are many more people with whom I am polite with and together we can get things done if needed. But as far as close friends? ....uhm.... Let me think on this here.

I probably have someone who thinks she is a close friend because we can pick up where ever we left off, but I think she tends to forget she was always very private with herself towards me. Guarded is more like it. So whenever we DO talk, she always uses terms like, "remember I told you about?"... No. I don't. You never told me. I also never asked. If you don't share, that's your prerogative. But don't expect me to dig for info. She's always so surprised that I don't remember this and that, but then, she largely forgets she never told me in the first place. That doesn't bother me so much as when I did make a move to open up she felt obliged to share that info with the info :-/ I had a friend, she's still my friend, who I think tried to be close with me. But I couldn't be that close with her. To me, she came from this perfect background, mom and dad still together. About to get married to her first 7 year old crush. Came from the suburbs, and she could braid. I don't know what that had to do with anything, but at the time, I put her on a pedestal for it. Did I mention she's gorgeous? Which heightens the fact that I had some sever insecurities at that point. Still, everywhere we'd go, her, I and another third light skinned beauty, guys would drool over us. I think it really came down to my perception that she was more "pure" than I. She'd only been with one guy, ever and I obviously did not share that same fact. So the things that occupied my mind 23/7 I could not discuss with her. Yes, that often, sometimes I wonder if my brain should have been programmed as a man the way I go there....

For at least a year, I was severely paranoid of anyone trying to make friends with me. There was a girl who was friends with me only because it was convenient. For some reason, she had thought herself as "the" girl of our circle of friends though I knew all of our people before she showed up on the scene. She went so far as to tell me one day, "the group is me, him and him, you are not apart of the inner circle." 8-0. Lucky for me, to be considered the girl of a all male inner circle group of friends you have to be fuckable by said group of friends. As a heterosexual female I was fuckable, note the prefix -able and not -ed. Once when we all headed home for some break (we were all from the same city) I called her one evening to ask her to join me at some bar. She said she was going, but emphasized it was with some of her friends from home and I probably wouldn't be comfortable (emphasizing my heterosexual status here again). Another friend of ours called me and asked me to come out and kick it at the same place so I grabbed a cab. Do you know this heifer was there with "her" friends, OUR friends? I made a point to state the obvious and when we returned to school, our first dinner back in the caf together, everyone talked around her and not to her. When she started to say things to get attention, they started saying things like, "No one cares 'Susy'," and "Blah, blah, blah." Did I mention my guy friends were all tremendous assholes? But I loved it. They had planned to be rude to her before we went to dinner because I almost did not join them as a means to express my extreme disapproval of her behavior. They insisted and promised to treat her as she deserved. They ALL did. And I will again emphasize, I Loved It. Because I am an asshole at heart. She started crying and they kept going. Eventually, I stopped bothering to be bothered with her. Because while I genuinely offered my friendship to her time and time again, she had this imagined competition with me to be "the" girl. I didn't get it then, and I don't get it now. In the long run, our friends are still My friends. And not so much her way. She got replaced.

After she left us, I had all sorts of randoms attempting to be my friend. One girl found me via BlackPlanet, yes that long ago. She claimed she was coming to our school and I looked like a cool person. Long story short, my ex, who was with her while were were together was now her boyfriend. He told her to befriend me. Random. But we, the homies and I, had been onto the whole game. We toyed with her and it was done. We began to frequent a local hangout for a while. It became Our spot. We were the regulars. But there was, regularly, a different group of girls each week there to support one of their own hoping one of my homies would get in their pants. I can't explain this phenomena nor do I care to understand, but it existed. These same girls would seek me out on campus and try to be overly friendly and buddy buddy with me, asking what was going on each night, offering I should give them my number so we could kick it. I will admit, I got a kick out of being an asshole. Mean. Just plain evil. Because they were not interested in me at all but apparently viewed me as a pawn to get to their king.

A typical convo:
them - hey girl what's goin on?
me - not a damn thing
them - ya'll kickin it tonight?
me - ya'll who?
them - you know, u and so and so
me - it's really none of your business

or

them - we should really kick it tonight
me - no we really shouldn't

or

them - hey! where's so and so?
me - do I fucking look like i carry him in my pocket?

or

them - is it hip hop night tonight?
me - why the fuck are you talking to me?

OR

If at our spot and a "they" would ask if they could sit at a table with me I'd say "no," plain and simple.

Now if a "they" showed up at someone's home when we were having a normal kickit session, meaning said they was invited and nine times out of ten was gloating to be there, I didn't pay them any mind, not rude or otherwise. But the guys, I became evil to them. Why were they letting this random have for even a nanosecond the thought that she was approved? All new females were approved by "the" girl of the group and though I previously claimed not to be worried about any of that, I embodied my role totally.

So I went through a year of that. Being mean to randoms who pretended to be nice to me to get to my guys. I am an honest person. I expect the same of everyone in return. I am also very loyal. But that's neither here nor there. After our happy little boy group plus me separated, I got married. Almost immediately. And no, my hubby did not come from within my group of friends. I don't know where he came from. But he came at the right time. I don't know if it was because I got married or because all my guys dispersed, but the female friends I did have at that time waned quickly.

And have stayed as such for the past almost five years. I've met some people, but have no desire to get to know these people or let them get to know me, the for real me. They know that I'm pleasant, and polite, and that I have a perfect marriage, all of which are lies by the way. I have two women who I spend my time with from time to time. But neither are like me. I am a scatter brain, meaning my thoughts are everywhere at once. I believe in UFO's, astral travel, matriarchy systems, talking to spirits, and nappy hair. Neither of these women are like that. My conversations are kept on general topics though they both have degrees and are very smart. But they think yoga and vegetarianism is a joke. I just cannot be myself. I am a nerd, and addicted to the internet and have had plenty of meaningful conversations with people I may never ever met, save avatar to avatar on the web. They don't get it.(Maybe they do. Maybe I'm being harsh?) And I don't give a damn if they never do.

But I think its just me. I'm too picky. I don't have this same problem with men.

I had a friend once who thought she should be my only friend. We broke up.

There was one who slept w/ my boyfriend in HS. So when she arrived to my college a semester ahead of me, she was sure to tell everyone all the grimy shit she did to me, except she said it was I who did it to her. She fucked, I mean flunked out a semester after I got there.

I had this white friend who thought she was blacker than me and called me nappy nappy dreadlocks (I had a perm) as a joke. She married some black thug who ain't tell his children's mother about her until after they married, he's been in and out of jail, no job, she supports with the same job we worked together at when we were 16. And thought we use to share clothes back then, she's 5 ft and at 200 lbs while I'm still in a size 2. And I have locs. Joke's on her I guess.

I attract crappy women I guess. But my fear is that I attract them because I am the crappy one? Do they reflect me? Boring, regular, liars, obsessive, possessive, negative, selfish, and deceitful. Maybe I am at fault because I am supposed to be like Jesus and accept everybody, flaws and all, and love them for who they rather than let who they are serve as a reason why they are unworthy of being my friend. Thank God I don't buy into Jesus... But still.

Maybe I am over thinking this. Who cares if I don't have friends? Outside of my family I have my best friend, my good friend my one friend fits all categories because there's no one else. And even that life line seems to be thinning lately. Inside my family I have my husband and Sun.

Am I whining?

It just feels as though the world is too damn big for me to be So disconnected.

Maybe I'll feel better after sleeping on it.

Feel free to leave your thoughts.

Peace.

My seven cycle

Friday, June 12, 2009

So I've always known, but come to appreciate even more today, that my life works out in these seven year cycles. Most understand seven is a divine number. But seven is also my number. I recognized it from the time I was six and wanted to be seven badly and decided it was my number forever. Numerologically, it is also my number. I feel this simply represents my direct cosmic connection to the ethers, various dimensions, ancestral spirits and of course, source energy. As a human being, it has manifested itself in the way my life has played out. Seven years after I lost my virginity, I got married (yes I was a baby). Seven years from when I initially began, I obtained my bachelor's. I overindulged in herbal remedies, trying to soothe my depression, for seven years before I was forced to quit. I also suffered depression for seven years. This year, I finally feel I am the woman I aimed to become once I was able to decide exactly what it is that is me. I defined all that in 2002. Today is 2009, seven years. It was a work in progress, an will continue to evolve, but I can say I have reached my initial vision.

So, in 2002, I decided I wanted to be happy in my skin. I no longer wanted other people's perceptions, ideas and socialization to affect how I carried myself. Because before that point I did. I had a friend, a negative little girl, who was the official naysayer to whatever I expressed interest in. When I would attempt to wear my hair out in an afro, people would say stuff like, "who she think she is? Erykah Badu wannabe." I'd go and tie my hair down. Oh, how could I forget? My last perm was in 2002. Seven years ago and now I have made this final dedication to loc'ing my hair without taking it down or cutting it for at least 6 years. Maybe I'll switch it to seven just in case. So in 2002, I met some great people who were all at various stages of fighting to be themselves. Everyone was nappy. I decided I no longer desired to have the latest fashion just because its what everyone else was wearing (it never felt right on me). I began to speak openly about what I believed and my perceptions on various ideas in the classroom even if it went completely against the grain of what everyone else was saying. I spoke firmly but would always end my statements with, "I don't even know if I'm making any sense," as a way provide a disclaimer, or apologize for what I said. But people began to smile, the "normal" people, black kids and professors with the latest styles, the cool kids, the greek people, girls with weave wraps. The moment I felt I was becoming new was the day in class when we discussed the idea of black women having to make a choice between careers and having a family. While most of the class said there was no choice, I argued that even if you get married, have kids AND a career, something would suffer. You can either be a super mom and be mediocre in your job or be a ball buster, pulling in loot and respect, but having to rely on sitters, teachers and television to raise your child. I have since re-evaluated my position, but that day, in 2002, when I made my five minute long comment, no one said a word afterwards. I felt as I must have said the dumbest thing. Then my professor leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head and asked, "class?" They broke out in applause. I still get red faced thinking of it. But at that moment, I began to understand I had very different ideas and it only served for the greater of all to be sure they were heard. Today, seven years later, I am taking steps to ensure I just don't say whatever whenever. Rather, I want to implement what I know will make a difference. I started my first blog back in 2002 and since that time I've been told several times over I should write a book. I always figured I would, but I also figured who would want to read it if it's not about sex? You see, I would only want to write with a black audience in mind. Because that is what makes the most sense to me. That is who I am and who I aim to help. I don't know what it is that I will write on, but it will be something. I just am now pulling it together. I just now have the conviction that I can accomplish something like a book. Previously I thought it was procrastination and laziness that would hold me back. But once I determined it was depression that tied my hands and mind down, and after being able to pinpoint the source of that depression, I feel as I have emerged the woman I always wanted to be.

I had more to say, but something just threw me terribly off.
 
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