Wednesday, December 28, 2005

what's my motivation?

Last night a few of my girls and I went out to a Vivian Green concert. This was my second Vivian show and she definitely does not disappoint. Whatever man/men did her so wrong that she could make 2 albums about it... all I can say is daaaaaaaaaaamn!

I absolutely LOVE her first cd. It was one of the albums that became the soundtrack to the summer of my sophmore year, since my roommates and I kept it in constant rotation. I haven't bought her most recent work but from the songs she sang last night it sounds pretty decent.

Hearing her voice fill B.B. Kings last night reminded me that I don't sing anymore -- not that my voice has certified gold potential or anything but I've been known to hold a note. Seeing Vivian on that stage pouring out all of her heart made me realize that I've allowed many things that I love and make me who I am to dissipate out of my life.

I've been so caught up with simply living and helping others that all my side projects and hobbies have gone neglected. What's far far far far worse than me not singing is that I haven't really been writing much. Other than assignments and a few pieces for the magazine I haven't written anything just for me. I can't remember the last time I wrote a poem or worked on one of my several unfinished stories.

I'm feeling uninspired. I haven't really been on it like I usually am or like I can be. I have all these ideas and thoughts running through my head but my creative juices just can't seem to flow down to my fingers. Maybe when undergrad is all said and done I'll have more time and inspiration will comeback to me.

Oh another thing I was thinking about last night is that folks have a tendenacy of over thinking things and making it bigger than it needs to be. Sometimes things are simple and genuine--nothing more and nothing less. I know it's random but that's what was on my mind last night.....

missing you

my father passed away december 26th, 1994. and though it's been 12 years sometimes the pain still feels fresh.

Monday, December 19, 2005

get ready--tonight is a night to remember

December 9th I turned 22.

For as long as I can remember my birthdays have always been hit or miss. With finals, holiday season and the death of my father all in the same month my day of birth sometimes simply gets caught up in the mix.

Last Friday I had an 8 o'clock final and unfortunately ran errands in a crazy ass storm that consisted of snow and thunder. That night I ended up at a holiday party since I figured all my friends would be there but I was wrong. I knew only a handful of people because most of my loves ones were tired or just didn't feel like trekking through the snow. Being a light weight to the second power and feeling a little sad on my bday I ended up drinking too much wine. Lets just say that my sexy was definitely not preserved.

The next day I recounted my birthday night to my girl Mel. I told her that all I really wanted was good food, lots of laughs and to be in the ocmpany of friends. Mel asked me not to worry and promised to make it happen. All I had to do was be ready after work to go out.

Saturday, December 10th, 2005 was one of the best birthdays and nights of my life! We went to this place called King's and shut the place down. The food wasn't all that amazing but they made mojitos just the way I like them which means a lot because not a lot of spots can make mojitos right. Our waiter was named Benjamin but since a lot of us were New Yorkers we ended up calling him Benny all night. Benny was great and at the end of his shift made sure to find us and let us know we were his best customers.

What brought the night all together was the music. The music at King's was crazy! We asked Benny who the dj was and he told us that it was actually a mix of songs put together by all the employees. We were shocked because the playlist was absolutely flawless. It was a perfecrt mix of early 90s rap and r&b. We snapped our fingers and swayed to Biggie, New Edition and Mary as we ate our food. After awhile we couldn't take it anymore so we got up and started dancing - nevermind that King's doesn't have a dancefloor.

The laughs that night were endless. There was a lapdances, a soul train line, and dancing on tables. From the staff to the other folks there that night--everyone was included in our fun.

What I couldn't get over that night is that NO ONE attempted to kill our joy. In the almost 5 years that I've been in Boston there has often been a Joy Killer or Debbie Downer around. But that night not one single person told us to get off the tables or asked us to keep it down.

As we finally put on our jackets to leave I was struck by an intense sensation of dejavu and it some how felt comforting. We ended the night two stepping out Temptation style to Kweli's Never Been in Love Before.

I truly believe birthdays can only be wonderful when spent with loved ones and when everyone feels as if it's there birthday too. Mel said it best when she said that it was sincerely the best birthday party she ever had/went to and called the whole experience "spiritual". Spiritual meaning that feeling you get when all is right and every part of your being is content.

That night's joy spilled over into the rest of my week and had me floating. Since I'm getting older and this being my last year as an undergrad, I've decided to back track and close some things in my life. I want to leave Boston with a very small list of should ofs, could ofs, and would ofs. So I'm supposed to be getting up with someone when I go home for the holidays--we'll see if that happens and what transpires if it does. I know that I can't go back and fix everything but I'll try my best.

Mel, Nissi, and I hosted a grown & sexy holiday party this past Saturday. Since we served wine and champagne in red plastic dixie cups we concurred that we don't have the grown part down yet, so it was still sexy but more like young and sexy. We dimmed the lights, put up white christmas lights and had candles everywhere to set the mood.

The holiday party was another incredible evening. Since it was a dinner party all guest were asked to bring wine/champagne/a dessert and come dressed in cocktail attire. Folks truly did it up. The dresses were banging and there were some brothers definitely holding it down.

Thanks to the cooking expertise of Mel and I the guests kept smacking their lips after tasting the stuffed clams, shrimp, green beans and teriyaki chicken we cheffed up. And Ms. Barbara definitely made some serious Haitian rice and beans.

The mix of guests was perfect because Mel, Nissi and I have several mutual friends and associates. Towards the end of the night someone decided to blow out the candles, turn off the christmas lights, move the coffee table and get the party started. Several ladies took off their high heeled shoes and it was officially on. We electric slided it, soul trained it, and two stepped it up until we were all way too tired to move.

Though I'm happy for all these wonderful moments with friends, it's causing me to miss one girlfriend in particular. I feel as if I'm losing her and it's because she seems to want to be lost. I won't front I'm defintely hurt but what can I do? I love her and I know that relationships are like waves. Perhaps this is just one of our low points.

Thursday, December 08, 2005

almost moments

I've finally come to terms with the fact that my attraction to you is never going away.
Never meaning that no matter how hard I try to convince myself that these feelings have disappeared ...when I'm being real with me... I know that I want you now more than I did that night I first saw you.

Years have passed and you still cause my breathe to get heavy and my body to tingle with the wish of being near you.

You know what frustrates me? Is that we've had so many moments of almosts--times when it seemed that something could/would develop but never did.

Maybe it's because you're just not that into me or no matter how strong the feelings are perhaps we're afraid. Afraid of what could/would happen if we actually stopped fronting, stepped out of comfort zones and chose to be real.

Though I'm happy with Mr. Man...... I question what I would do if you decided to take a chance.

Maybe this is simply an intense lust. Maybe we're incompatible and a relationship between us would be unstable. Maybe it's true that everything we want we aren't meant to have.

Perhaps all there is are those moments of almosts.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

MJB has my heart



Mary has done it to me again. Her single 'Be Without You' is on constant rotation @ my place. The song is simply the truth. Mary hits notes that I never knew she had in her. The video is beautiful too. She even has Mr. Putting Woman Through It Terrance Howard playing her man in.

I forgive Mary for her sometimes simple lyrics and off key singing. I've overlooked those things because Mary has always delivered realness. She's been able to seamlessly blend b-girl forthright into R & B and at the same time take us to church.

When Mary was going down we were down there with her. And when she declared no more drama we too ignored the haters and negativity that threatened to rain on our happiness. How can you not love someone who has continously exposed her deepest pains and flaws and only asks that we accept her as she is?

Mary is the champion of all the woman who have/are going through it and the men who love them.Go into most clubs and at some point in the night 'Real Love' the remix with Biggie has the dancefloor jumping like it's 1992 all over again. That's a genuine testament to how much Mary touches us.

She's finally embracing that Mary that we've always seen inside of her.

Oh Ms. Blige how I love you so.

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Sick & Tired


When is it time to call it quits, pack up your things and keep it moving?

I don't even have the energy to go into what transpired the last 2 weeks. But I will say that the nonsense and inconsideration had me seriously contemplating stepping down for my post as the magazine's head woman in charge. My staff let me down to the second power and left me furious and hurt.

I felt/feel like an overworked underprivileged mother who is expected to make miracles out of scraps. On Monday I called a meeting and informed the staff that I'm completely removing myself from the process of producing this year's 2nd issue. I realized that I've done them a great disservice because they've been accustomed to me being around and doing more than my fair share. I needed something drastic to shake them up and make them realize that this is my last year.

So I shared 10 minutes of my disappointed 2 cents and left the office. I gave them a detailed list of the things that needed to get done for our next issue but I would not offer any advice or suggestions. As I walked away I prayed that instead of getting upset and defensive, the staff would come together and get the job done. Though I want them to be successful I also hope they finally understand how much I do and grasp that putting a magazine together doesn't happen with magic.

Well word on the street is that my staffers have been spotted in the library at all times of night and around campus taking pictures. And Wednesday I was asked to look over pics from the cover photo shoot. There were some things I liked and some I didn't but I tried my best to step back and allow them to find their own way.

It's funny to me how senior year is like last call at the bar. Everyone's in a hurry to accomplish all the things they neglected to say, do, or try in the beginning. Brothers I've known for a minute are now revealing their true feeling. Though I'm surprised and flatter I've been here since the beginning so what took you so long? But I guess that's human nature to spend time wondering what could be until it's too late.

I give Mr. Man much credit for taking a chance and finally speaking up. Though it took him 4 years to do it I'm glad that he did because I would have definitely missed out. I'm still enjoying our exclusively dating arrangement. He brings me a sense of comfort that's needed in my busy life and Mr. Man also has the 4 Cs down: cooking, cleaning, cuddling, and communicating. Don't get me wrong things aren't all good all the time -- we've had a few small spats here and there--but nothing too major. My girl Jackie put it best by stating that Mr. Man and I have reached our plateau. Things are still somewhat new but we're both passed the intense being all up under eachother stage. Feelings are still very strong but we're giving each other breathing room.

I'm constantly asked why, if I like him so much, haven't we made things official and what the hell does exclusively dating mean. Weeeelll in my world being in a relationship and exclusively dating are two different things. Dating is when two people are learing about each other and figuring out whether a relationship could actually work. A relationship is when both people are comfortable enough with what they've learned and are willing to make a commitment from it. So Mr. Man and I are exclusively dating. We've basically decided to get to know only each other. This may not make sense to others but we're completely satisfied with our little situation.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

teach them well

I was maxing and relaxing all up on cloud 9 yesterday. I was elated because the very much anticipated-sleep depriving-headache inducing-mad late first issue of the Onyx finally hit campus newsstands yesterday. And though sneakers and jeans have, unfortunately, become my unofficial senior year uniform, Tuesday I mustered up the energy to bring my old self back by doing my hair and strutting out in a pair of heels. So yesterday not only was I able to actually hold the product of months of hard labor but I looked damn good and felt great. There was pep in my step and no one could tell me nothing......

It's funny how a few hours can change a day.

There is a teen at the center who has special needs... I'll call him Keith. Keith's social, mechanical, and learning skills aren't like other boys his age. One thing he LOVES to do is his homework. On some nights he brings it for someone at the center to help him. I've worked with Keith a few times on his class assignments and I found helping him extremely difficult. I didn't know how to break down the homework questions in a way for him to understand. I figured that since I don't have any official training in teaching children with special needs I just didn't know how to truly help him without simply giving him the answers.

Proper training or not, yesterday it was immediately apparent to me that Keith's work is far too advanced for him. Last night he brought in a packet that is appropriate for someone who is at least five grades above him. At that realization I became infuriated. I was angry because he is yet another child who is haplessly drifting along this country's educational system. It is obvious that Keith has not learned much. I know that is partly due to his learning disabilities but it's also because people have constantly given him the answers which is basically equal to doing the work for him.

Not wanting to take the easy route out and not sure on how to help him learn the contents of the packet, I unfortunately told Keith that tomorrow he would have to talk to one of his teachers.

Once I told Keith, who is adamant about finishing his assignments every night, that he'd have to turn in his homework incomplete, he became agitated. I apologized to him several times and he frustratingly told me it was fine , though I knew it wasn't. When he quickly put on his jacket and left my heart broke. Tears welled up in my eyes as my mood unceremoniously tumbled off cloud 9.

That entire night at work my attitude was stale. I couldn't get Keith out of my mind. I have a severe Anne Sullivan/Miracle Worker Complex and it's real hard for me to turn a blind eye on someone in need.

Each youth worker at the center is given a case load. It our responsibilty to keep in contact with the teens in our load and stay up to date with their teachers and parents. My case load contains most of the teens that are considered "troubled". I guess it happened that way because the directors see my save the world mentality and know that most of the kids genuinely like me.

Recently Keith was added into my case load. I wont front, I am a bit overwhelmed and intimidated by the task that's ahead of me but I'm going to try my hardest to hold my kids back from slipping through the cracks.

Monday, November 07, 2005

it's more than just a shirt

This and this is ridiculous! Since I now work with teenage boys I'm more aware of their choice of clothing and the issues that surround them. Young men today are living in a time where doorags, bandanas, hats, and t-shirts are no longer worn as fashion statements but as signs of affiliation and intimidation. Uniforms may be the way to go.

Back in Action

I haven't posted in over a month and I was contemplating just giving up blogging all together. I've been so consumed with all that is life, that blogging didn't interest me anymore. But one of my fans has persuaded me to begin posting again so here I am, back in action.

Not really wanting to put all my business out there but tempted to share I'll let it be known that there's a special someone in my life right now. Everything is new and we're still in developement so there aren't any titles. I don't know where whatever we're doing is headed but what I do know is that what we have feels oh so good.

I've known him for 4 years but never really looked at him in the more than a friendly associate kind of way. We would say hi and have brief conversations but never anything exstensive. This summer he finally revealed to me how he's liked since the first time he saw me 4 years ago and I of course being Queen Oblivious had no idea.

It's funny how someone I used to see around every 6 months now occupies most of my free time. Though I try to keep my heart guarded, I must admit I'm so caught up in this new us. He is definitely woo woo wooing me and I'm enjoying it for as long as it lasts.

My weeknight job is at a youth center with 14 to 19 years olds. I love my job, the kids, and my coworkers but what's bothering me is how the majority of the boys are wearing those STOP SNITCHING shirts. Every single time I see them my insides boil. Those shirts perpetuate the mentality of: if you see or hear something act like you didn't and keep it moving. I do believe in the good old mind your own business but there are certain times when that rule definitely does not apply. What makes me even angrier is that one of the youth workers at my job cosigns with the shirts and feels that the sooner the kids learn to not snitch "they'll live longer". We started to get into a heated debate right in the director's office but I stopped myself. I know my co-worker's attitude comes from him having a troubled childhood marred by many run-ins with the law. He has definitely taken a few steps in a positive direction but unfortunately he hasn't completely disassociated himself from the old lifestyle. I'm holding on to the hope that the teens at the center aren't in too deep for me to reach them.


My mother turns 50 this month. I'm finally getting serious about beginning my autobiography and this Thanksgiving break I'm going to start recording our mother-daughter talks. It's funny how I spent much of my preteen years thinking she was my worst enemy whose sole purpose in life was to make me miserable and keep me away from boys. Now she's who I want to be. The older I get the more I see her as more than a mother but as a fellow woman.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

When is Teairra Mari's 15 minutes up?

[Chorus]
I ain't had no daddy around when I was growing up
That's why I'm wild and I don't give a f***
Y'all think cuz these jeans fit, I'll give it up
Don't let my cute face fool yah

[Bridge]
All, all my girls from a broken home
When you're feeling all alone
And you feel you can't go on
Call me
-- No Daddy, Teairra Mari

Wow. I almost have no words. I was catching up on music videos when I saw the Princess of the ROC Teairra Mari's No Daddy. The video isn't much to talk about it. Its theme is a mixture of Gwen Steffani's Hollaback Girl and Britney Spear's Baby One More Time. Teairra Mari struts around an all girl high school in khaki hot pants and a midriff baring top with a handful of fellow no daddy having teenage females prancing behind her.

What kills me is that in the bridge she urges other woman who are going through tough times and feeling lonely to call her.....hmmmm...ummerrah..Now I don't know about you but if I was sitting in my room feeling low and needed some encouragement, the celebrity I would like to have on speed dial is the one and only Queen of the Come Up, Oprah Winfrey. Oprah rose from a childhood marred by repeated sexual abuse and low self esteem to create an inspiring life filled with personal and professional growth, numerous Emmys, movies, and a successful television show that has been around for 20 years. Though she's been interrupting guest on her show more and more lately, Oprah's accomplishments can not be denied. Man, if I was experiencing a bad case of the blues not only would she give me the best advice but Oprah would also tell me to check under my bed and there would probably be keys to a brand new car or some other expensive goodie, that would definitely wipe my tears away.

Perhaps at 17 Teairra Mari has experienced some hard knock times. And getting signed to the ROC under Jay-Z's reign is definitely an undeniable accomplishment but I'm going to have to say no thanks to any advice she would give.

Jay-Z's plans with Def Jam are still questionable to me. Is he attempting to take over the music industry with barely legal female singers? I can't front Rihanna doesn't bother me but Teairra Mari rubs me the wrong way. I know that sex sells and that's unfortunate.

All female artist strive for longevity but don't realize that simply prancing around in skimpy outfits just won't cut it. When will they learn that showing all that you got will only temporarily compensate for a lack of vocal skills and stage presence? Teairra Mari's 15 minutes are ticking away.

Monday, September 19, 2005

Pieces of Me

There's something I've been tempted to blog about for almost a week now but I haven't really figured it all out in my head yet. I don't want to post it without being sure that every words describes exactly how I feel about the situation...maybe I'll have it all together by the weekend.

Inspired by a fellow blogger I decided to post some random things about me that some may not know.

WARNING: Nothing- I mean nothing- in this blog can be used against me. If you read this post and see me on the streets-- act as if you don't know me. If you however do have the audacity to approach me and attempt to recklessly discuss my business on the streets I will act as if I don't know you and give you my worse evil look of death. You have been warned.

* Not only is reading fundamental but it is essential in my life. Though I've fallen in love with magazines, books are my first love. If a book is good I'll revisit it over and over again, like an old friend.

* I knowingly use my size and angelic features to get what I want. Trust me, when I poke out my bottom lip and give my best puppy dog expression, it's a wrap for anyone in a 2 mile radius. You won't be able to say no to me.

* I HATE when people are behind me. I can't stand having folks hanging around somewhere I can't see them. What the heck are you doing back there? That's why I almost never let anyone hold the door for me or get behind me on a stairwell. To all those gentlemen out there I'm sorry. I know that you're intentions are good and your momma raised your right but if you don't want me to tense up and black on you please just don't stand/walk behind me.

* Ice cold ginger ale is my cure-all. Be it an illness, sore throat or simply a gray day ginger ale does it for me.

*I have a slight Napolean complex. I learned early that if your short and look younger than you are, folks don't take you seriously so sometimes you have to demand that they respect you. I don't go around beating people up buuuuuuuuut I am known for stronging arming folks when needed.

* I LOVE to eat, especially reeeeeaaaaaaally spicy food. I don't even think that love adequately describes my relationship with food. I'm a sucker for a man who can work it in the kitchen or knows all the best local restuarants. Feeding me is a surefire way to get to my heart ....and other things. ; - )

* I don't put anything past anyone. It's hard to surprise me. I believe that everyone is capable of just about anything -- good or bad.

*I'm shy. A lot of folks are shocked that I can be shy but it's unfortunately o so true. Close friends have witnessed rare moments when I've turned a deep shade of purple and been at a lost for words.

* I love care free rainy days. Something about rain is so soothing and tranquil. If it rains and I don't have anything pressing on my agenda I like to stay inside all day in my pjs, cook a good meal, catch up on some shows, and fall asleep with the window open just a tad.

* Whenever someone is talking to me I try my best to look them in the eye. The eyes tell a lot and no one wants to feel as if you're not paying attention.

* I want to adopt a child once I'm professionally and financially secure, regardless if there's a special someone in my life. I don't like to hear women in their 40s confessing that they want children but are waiting for Mr. Right in order to start a family. Though I would love to be married one day, my desire to have children is MUCH greater and besides not everyone ends up walking down the aisle. I figure why wait for a Mr.Right, who may never show up, when there are plenty of children in need of a family? Sperm banks are definitely out of the question.

* I come from a touchy feely family so I can't help giving lots of hugs. It's in my blood.

* Saying that someone completes you doesn't sit too well with me. It sounds beautiful and I understand how hearing that can make someone's heart pitter patter but the notion of needing someone else to feel whole just isn't right to me. I would rather have someone who compliments me very well but I believe that before entering a relationship you should have a firm grasp of who you are or atleast acknowledge that you're a work in progress. I know a lot of folks that enter relationships because they need someone else to validate them. You should never use a relationship to define who you are because if that relationship ever comes to an end you would feel as if you've lost yourself and that to me is a great tragedy.

* I am endlessly entertained by people watching. I can sit in one spot for hours watching folks walk by. People do the darndest things when they think no one is looking.

* I own several memory boxes which store pictures, stories I've written in grade school, movie stubs, concert tickets, keepsakes from friends and past relationships, playbills and anything else I want to remember. Once a year I dedicate a night to reorganizing my memory boxes. I spread out on my floor and reminsce. I cry and laugh. Sometimes I do both simultaneoulsy.

* Random folks tell me random things. I don't know what it is but strangers love to talk to me. Maybe it's because they can sense that I won't judge them and that I believe everyone has a story to tell.

* I LOVE to laugh and tell jokes. Laughter is universal. To be able to laugh freely with loved ones is one of life's greatest experiences.

* I have a blessed life. I believe that my life's purpose is to be a positive impact. If atleast one person's life is made better because of my exsistance than I will feel accomplished.

* I love to cuddle. All my guy and girl friends now that if you share a bed with me I will cuddle you so don't fight the feeling.

* I know how to keep a secret.

* My pride and I are in a constant battle. I've always been taught to be self-adequate and never rely on others. My mother raised all of her kids to be givers and NEVER takers. So for a long time it's been difficult for me to allow people to help me out but I'm learning when my load is heavy it's okay to let loved ones make it lighter.

* I'm silly so I crack myself up ALL the time.

* I love surprises and rarely get them!

*I'm quick to playfully flirt and give someone a compliment. Everyone wants to feel good and attractive.

That's it for now. Perhaps more later.

Friday, September 16, 2005

falling in love with me

"To love oneself is the beginnig of a life long romance" ~ Oscar Wilde

Recently I recieved an email from a dear missed friend and it was exactly what I needed. She reminded me of how much we're growing and coming into our own. My missed friend also made me see how much of me is still the same and probably will never change.

Nowadays I feel as though I'm truly seeing me for the first time ,which may sound silly because I look at myself everyday. But I guess I mean that now I'm seeing all of me and I'm in awe.

I'm becoming fond of the soft shape of my eyes and how they close up when I smile due to the chubbiness of my cheeks. I'm captivated by my rich honey coated chocolate complexion and the silkiness of my skin. I admire the strength of my thighs and my back.......

It has always been difficult for me to gracefully recieve compliments. When it comes to my work or writing, a few good words here and there are okay. But anything said about my phyiscal has always made me uncomfortable.

When I was younger my mother's female friends would fuss over my thick raven colored hair and jokingly ask me to fetch a pair of scissors so that they could have some. I would immediately attempt to satisfy their request because I wanted them to like me. My father's friends and male cousins would affectionately tell me that I would have every man proposing when I got older. To make things worse in 3rd grade my body started to develop faster than my friends. I wore baggy clothes in an attempt to hide my premature curves. The last thing I wanted to do was draw attention to myself because I experienced early how cruel females can be if they feel that you're getting more attention from the opposite sex than they are.

I think that part of my difficulty with accepting compliments comes from me not believing in them. It's not that I suffer from an extreme case of low self esteem, I simply never looked at myself that hard. I also never wanted to stick out. I learned early that sticking out brings unsolicited attention and hateration. But now I'm slowly beginning to say thank you to kind words and see myself the way others do.

For the first time I've fallen in love with every bit of me and it feels incredible.

Lifted

I am on a high! Recently I've been feelings as if I'm floating on air and I don't want to come back down anytime soon. My insides are glowing.

The Onyx held our 2nd SOULSPEECH Live last night and it was a PERFECT ending to Onyx Week. We had some Jill, Billie, and Erykah playing lightly in background. Incense and candles burned, adding to the ambience. Around 7:45pm folks slowly trickled in and the vibes were positive. We purposely didn't have a sign up sheet or rigid program. The night was all about expressions from the soul, so we encouraged anyone who felt something on their hearts to come up and share. There were testimonies, jokes, poetry, and singing. Folks got inspired and began writing poems and thoughts down on napkins. My man Terry Gresham came through and blessed us all with his vocals. The Cabral Center got so packed that we ran out of chairs but no one complained. During the moments when no one stepped up to the mic we would all sit back, turn up the music, and enjoy eachother's company. Last night more than ever we were all family and the Tute was our home. SOULSPEECH could have lasted until midnight but campus police needed to lock up the building. We promised everyone that it will definitely be a monthly event.

Though the Onyx has been through more than its fair share of hard times, this week has proven to me why we're here and the reason I've been editor-in-chief for 3 years. In 1972, Ted Thomas, Ileen Dotson, Joyce Clark, Harold Hunte, and Barbara Ellis came together because students of the African Diaspora at Northeastern needed their voices heard. In 2005 that need is still present. Nowadays since some of our battles and obstacles aren't as overt many of us have become complacent and that's why the Onyx endures.

Monday, August 15, 2005

My Enemies: Procastination and Verizon

I love the rush I feel when writing on deadline. For some reason the words seem to sing more when I'm racing against the clock. I love the feeling of how my muscles slowly begin to ease as I proofread the last word and ceremoniously press send with a bit of bravado because I know that the work I just sent was certified gold......

Basically--I'm the Queen Bee Procastinator. Last minute is my middle name. Though what I said above is all true, I usually get the bulk of my work done with only a few crucial seconds to spare. Sometimes postponing projects/papers/articles works out. I sit infront of the computer focused and words effortlessly fly from my fingers, coming out perfect the first time. But sometimes .... A LOT OF TIMES..... I spend hours infront of a blank screen wondering how I hustled my way into school. A LOT OF TIMES I'll also get distracted and start browsing the internet for killer sales, checking my email,browsing thefacebook, and reading who said what on which blog.

However, today, I did none of that and s**t still was crazy! Tell me why.... I had a few more expert interviews to do for my Journalism 2's final 8 paged article when Verizon up and disconnected my phone! See ol' Verizon and I have a love hate relationship-- I love conducting lengthy interviews so that I get all the necessary information for my articles and Verizon hates it when my broke ass can't pay the bill. What gets me upset is: if you're going to shut me down than shut me down completely. But noooooooooo, Verizon does this half ass s**t where you still recieve calls but you can't call anyone except for 911 or Verizon to pay your bill.

***fading to a few months ago***

I remember calling Verizon one night and speaking to a service rep. [Sidenote: doesn't it seem that anytime you call to speak with a customer service representative they're always located in the south or bumblef**k middle America? And I swear that they lie about their names. I think I spoke to a Jose Conseco and Bob Villa once. No lie.] Anyway I tried to sweet talk the rep into turning my service back on and he let me know in a I-ain't-having-it dry ass voice that back when Verizon and I were friends they used to turn my service on in good faith that the bill would be paid. And that I should be happy that Verizon is doing me the favor of not turning my cell off completely. Though I was pissed about not being able to sway him, I decided to let it go and ask him "how many people can I put on my restricted call list?". I figured that if I could at least call my mom, my siblings, my friends, my boyfriend at the time, and a few other acquaintances than having restricted service wouldn't be that bad. There was a moment of silence, a deep frustrated sigh, and than he let said, "Ma'am there isn't a restricted call list. You will temporarily be able to receive calls but you can not call anyone except for Verizon and 911". I couldn't believe what I was hearing! I forgot about being all sweet and resorted to getting straight up indignant. "What...what do you mean only Verizon and 911?! Are you serious?! I'm sorry but Verizon and 911 aren't exactly on my speed dial!!". [Sidenote: I actually do have 911 on speed dial. It ain't safe out there for a cutie like myself. ......Actually I have Verizon on there too......but the customer service rep didn't need to know that] Okay I understand I was a little late with paying the bill but the least they could do is let me call my IN friends. I mean damn those phone calls are free! Needless to say we shared a few more words and my service was still cut off.

***back to earlier today***

I only had 3 hours to spare and I had to figure out how to contact these experts for my final. That's when it happened. Right there in the middle of the library I had a panic attack. I've had them before. I'm used to getting worked up and having to take a a few minutes to catch my breath and compose myself. But today's anxiety attack was something else. It felt as if for a moment my lungs and heart stopped and then suddenly started up again attempting to catch up with lost time. My chest began to jerk with each breath because my insides were off beat. Each time I exhaled was painful and caused me to wheeze. So there I was a wheezing- cell phone service restricted- late paying wireless customer experiencing a panic attack. And do you know that some of the people at the computers next to me rolled their eyes as if I was disturbing them from studying? The nerve!

In the end thanks to two quarters, a pay phone [Sidenote: have you ever noticed that having a cell phone makes you now blind to payphones?], and a friend who has 3 way calling I was able to get my piece done! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAH!

I will admit that procrastinating does suck and that I'm a true antisocial heffa when I'm working on crunch time. Forget about what Deborah and RL said about us not being friends if we can't be lovers. Bump that garbage--we can't be friends if I'm on deadline!

To all my homie lover friends who were hurt today by my curt responses and dismissive email auto reply: I'm sorry. Don't worry all my hard work will pay off and in my autobiography I'll put you all down as the people I loved and cared about ...when I didn't know better. HAHAHAHAHAHA! Kidding. You know I love you.

Saturday, August 13, 2005

Straight Up Gully & Just Dumb


Okay...ummmmerah... Jennifer Hyatte will go down in history as the epitome of a ride or die b@%*$h! What on God's green earth was she thinking?

At first I wanted to think that perhaps she is simply crazy in love but now I realize that heffa is just straight up crazy!

The two love birds met while Jennifer was working as a nurse at the prison where George was serving time for robbery. Apparently George is a locked up casanova that swept her off her feet. What.Ever. The heffas own mother even said she's gullible!

George was already serving 35 years for aggravated battery and assault,when his down for whatever boo decided to open fire on 3 guards who were escorting him through the parking lot of the Roane County Courthouse. Needless to say Bonnie and Clyde were caught a day and a half after their great escape.

Here is what makes me upset with this foolishness:
  • Since her well thought out plan surpisingly backfired Jennifer will now have to spend time in jail probably never able to see her man again.
  • By going along with his wife's efforts to free him, George will most definiately get a few more years added on to his already lengthy sentence.

What infuriates me the most is that their downright stupidity ended a life. Guard Wayne Morgan was hit by 3 out of the 6 shots fired by Jennifer. He died 70 minutes later. Also Jennifer has 3 young children, 9,11 and12, who will growup without her in a town that will probably alwars remember what their mother did.

I know many women who have fallen head over heels for sweet talking criminal record having Don Juans. I,myself, have also had 1 thuggish ruggish experience. Some of us have a weakness for men who are slightly rough around the edges. Understood. But when that weakness causes you to do ridiculous things that negatively impacts not only you and your incarcerated Romeo but also innocent bystanders, that's when s@%ts gone too far!

They both need to be put under the jail!

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

reassembling the pieces and making a more complete me


precious Lord take my hand
lead me on
let me stand.....


Last Wednesday I broke.

Every piece of me crumbled due to the impact of it all. A few days can change so much! I was left so dizzy from being overwhelmed that it felt as if my foundation sank from beneath my feet and shattered. Though it was the middle of the afternoon and my plate was overflowing with deadlines, I used every last bit of energy I could muster to curl up on my couch and cry.

And not just any type of cry. It was the disabling sort of crying that contorted my face and caused bitter dispirting tears to build in my soul and flow from my eyes.

Don't get my wrong, I have cried countless times before. But I've always done that brief resilient silent crying as I stubbornly trudged ahead attempting to immediately solve all my problems. I've learned a long time ago how not to feel too much so that no matter how bad the situation I would never feel defenseless. But this time, I, the Queen of Keep it Moving was crippled from the weight of life's downfalls and I simply didn't have it in to me to bounce back.

i am tired
i am weak
i am worn.....

I understand and have to come to appreciate the fact that sad and bad times come with living a life, and trust me I have experienced more than my fair share, but last week was too much for me to endure. I have never felt so helpless....... so exposed.

I realized that the pressure of all that is going on in my life was able to knock me down because for a long time now I haven't been centered. I've lost the spiritual part of me.

I'm not big on religion but I do believe in a higher power. And me and my higher power have lost contact. I needed a spiritual revitalizer so that I could get myself back. On Sunday I headed up to Cambridge for church and it was definitely the pick me up my spirit needed.

Not all churches sit well with me and I've been known to quietly walk out on sermons that didn't fit my beliefs but Union Baptist holds a special place in my heart. I found it 4 years ago when I came to Boston for school and was searching for something that would keep me balanced. I loved Union the moment I walked through its doors. It was the first place of worship where I felt that people were truly accepted for all of who they are and comforted by learning that it's okay. Though I hadn't come in almost 2 years it was as if I was being welcomed back home.

The part of church that I love the most is the singing. Gospel music has that divine power of seeping into you and causing your soul to resonate. Lucky for me EVERY. SINGLE. PERSON at Union Baptist can saaaaaaaaang--not sing--saaaaaaaaaaaaaaang! The church choir had my feet tapping and hands clapping as the soloist laid it all out in a flawless alto. When the choir was finished the minister of music kept the music going. It was obvious that the spirit had commenced to stir within us. Feeling moved the Pastor stood up and delivered a heart felt rendition of "Precious Lord", a familiar song I've always hummed whenever life had gotten the best of me. As his glorious tenor filled the room heads began to sway and tears flowed freely. With each compelling note I felt my despair begin to melt and hope reentering my heart.

through the storm
through the night
lead me on to the light....


I'm not back to 100% yet but I'm on my way.

take my hand
precious Lord
lead me home.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

In Due Time


I have a job!

And an exterminator is coming tomorrow!

Mice and no funds be gone!

Sunday, July 31, 2005

Mice & Magazines

In my ear: Cab Ride, Tweet -- Hello, Floetry -- Slow Down, Bobby Valentino -- U Send Me Swingin', Mint Condition -- At Your Best, Aaliyah -- There You Go, Johnny Gill -- I Wanna Be Where You Are, Jackson 5 -- Before You Walk Out Of My Life, Monica -- Jealous Girl, New Edition -- Let Me Love You, Mario -- Baby I'm For Real, After 7

I haven't slept in my apartment for about a week and some change. A mouse/mice has decided to move in and become my uninvited roommate/s. Regardless of how big and bad I may act I defininately have a phobia of mice. They are the nastiest intruders that live on this earth. They're dirty and carry all types of viruses. I feel violated knowing that Mickey and a possibly friend or two are getting comfy in my place and touching my stuff.

Since my landlord is taking forever and a day to take care of this mouse situation, I've been staying over at my ex's. Trust me I know. This past week has been extremely awkward to say the least. Though I'm the one who ended the relationship, he still offered his spot as my temporary home. At first I declined but took it back after remembering how close his place is to my apartment. I've barely seen him since I've been here. He's usually in bed when I get in at night and when he goes to work I'm still sleeping. I appreciate his hospitality however I'm being extra careful to keep all our interactions neutral in order to ensure that we don't revert to old habits -- if you know what I mean. Hopefully my landlord gets it together soon and evicts the mice so I'll be able to leave my ex's and return home.

Word on the street is that Free , former host of 106 & Park, is blessing the latest King Magazine cover. Hands down Free is looking damn good [though the pictures are most likely airbrushed]!

I LOVE MAGAZINES. Every month I religiously purchase the latest edition of Essence, XXL, VIBE, and King. Occasionally I'll also pick up Black Enterprise, Savoy, The Ave Magazine, Upscale, Newsweek, O Magazine, and whatever else catches my eye. I love magazines so much that I refuse to commit to subscriptions....instead I'd rather visit my local newsstand, bookstore or supermarket and pay full price. Though this does get expensive it still excites me to no end to visit the magazine aisle, pick up my usual favorites, and flip through any new ones. My girlfriends accuse me of being obsessed but I pay those heffas no heed. Everyone has something that brings them an unlimited amount of joy and in my life a lot of my joy comes from magazines. If I was ever stuck on a deserted island all I would need is a good pillow, few blankets, an unlimited supply of food, some music and pile of books and magazines ........Ummmmmmm and maybe a fine island man to stop by once and awhile to check up on me. ; - )

Speaking of magazines, Essence has found a new editor-in-chief. I wish Angela the best of luck though part of me was wishing that the position would have been offered to/taken by Suzanne Boyd. I was broken hearted when Honey magazine disappeared from the shelves and I was forced to revisit that sadness when Suede was axed. I embraced Suede the moment I saw the first issue on the newsstands. It was Suede's bold layout and unapologetic tribute to the original fashionistas of various shades of brown that initially attracted me. The magazine wasn't afraid take risks. Wherever Suzanne and the other 46 former Suede staffers may be I hope that they are working and happy.

Thursday, July 28, 2005

deep sigh

In my ear: Let's Wait Awhile, Janet -- Stingy, Ginuwine -- Who Can I Run To, Xscape -- All Night Long, SWV -- Forever, Jaheim -- If Only You Knew, Patti LaBelle -- I'm A Mess, Anthony Hamilton -- Stars, Kindred the Family Soul

Feeling some kind of way today; kind of like I'm running on empty. Sleep isn't the problem. I guess I'm just emotionally and physically drained. I've spent most of this week being my own personal pep squad pushing myself to simply keep going. It seems that everyday I work harder and harder to merely maintain and stay afloat.

You know what would be nice? To finally sit or lay somewhere and have absolutely nothing to do. To have no worries and the luxury of allowing myself to get lost in my thoughts.

And you know what else? I would love to be treated every once in awhile. I constantly give, and give and give some more that it would be pure heaven to be taken out. Wow, how great it would be to spend a carefree evening in the presence of amazing company. What ever happened to dates? People don't go out on dates anymore?

I honestly don't mind hard work. I like being involved and having a few things on my plate. But it would still be wonderful to have someone who realizes how crazy my life can get and feels that it's their purpose to help relieve some of my load, instead of adding on to it. I don't neccessarily want a relationship --persay--perhaps more of a special friend.

No one wants to be caught up in this thing called life alone.

Monday, July 25, 2005

naturally ever after is hard to come by

In my ears [ I sat in front of the computer for a few hours doing other work while I wrote this blog entry. So the song list is a bit lengthy] : Can You Stand the Rain, New Edition-- Speechless, Beyonce -- Shake it Off, Mariah Carey -- Free Yourself, Fantasia -- Wishing On A Star, Rose Royce -- Number One, John Legend -- Piece of My Love, Guy -- Cross My Mind, Jill Scott -- Meeting in My Bedroom, Silk -- Superwoman, Karyn White -- Love Will Be Waiting At Home, For Real -- I Can't Stop Loving You, Kem -- I Like, Kut Klose -- All I Do Is Think You, Troop -- Always And Forever, Heatwave -- She's All I Got, Jimmy Cozier [what happened to him by the way?] -- Kissin' You, Total [ what happened to them too ? ] -- Blackberry Molasses, Mista -- Love Me In A Special Way, El DeBarge -- In The Rain, The Dramatics -- Stay For Awhile, Angie Stone -- Spoiled, Joss Stone

This past week I almost broke down. I was oh so close to succumbing to the pressure and admitting defeat. I felt as if I was at the end of my rope and simply couldn't take it anymore. But, with one foot already over the edge and the rest of me about to follow, I made a few last minute phone calls in hopes of reaching someone --anyone--who could talk me out of it. Most of my attempts went unanswered and I left messages that went a little something like this: " Girl [deep sigh] pleeeeeeease call me back as sooooon as you hear this. I can't take it anymore! I think I'm just going to do it. I know I'm going to hate myself when it's all said and done .....but this is really just too much to handle right now.....Call me back."

Ladies and gentlemen I...... almost.........got.... a..... PERM! [GASP]

To a lot of you this may not be a big deal but to me it sure as hell is!

Let me start from the beginning: this past December I made the decision to quit perming my hair and go the natural route. I do not look down upon those who do perm their hair; I have just reached a point where relaxing isn't for me. I am currently going through what natural heads call the 'transition period'. For many women caring for two different textures of hair during the transition period can be frustrating, so they opt for "the big chop" and cut/shave their hair down to what is known in the natural world as the TWA-- a teeny weeny afro. When I made the decision to go natural I knew that the TWA was definitely not an option. I just couldn't see myself going mid-back length straight hair to an itsy bitsy 'fro. I mean come on! How can I ever live with myself after chopping my locks down to a hairdo whose acronym sounds like a private part of a female's body? Stop. Think about it. Don't get me wrong, on some folks a teeny weeny 'fro is very becoming but on me -- it just ain't happening. So I decided to embrace both textures of hair until my new growth reached a length that I am comfortable with and can be done in adorable two strand twists.

During the winter transitioning from chemically processed hair to natural tresses wasn't so bad. Every other week I continued going to my favorite Dominican hair spot to get my curly new growth blown out so that it could blend in with the relaxed parts of my hair. I figured I could keep that up through the spring and summer. Simple right? WRONG!

First of all: the blow-dryer that they use at these hair salons are so strong that they require a license [so I've heard] and unfortunately the longer you new growth is, the closer they have to bring the industrial strength hairdryer to your scalp in order to ensure that they get every last kinky curl. It basically feels as if the sun came down and decided to rest right on top of your head.

Second of all: I realized that the good ol' Dominican blowout couldn't withstand the summer -- well my type of summer anyway. Unlike many women of the African Diaspora I LOVE water, especially in the summertime. I don't mean drinking it or sitting along the shore looking cute while watching it flow on by. I love swimming, running in sprinklers, having water fights-- basically feeling every inch of my body get soaked by some ice cold H2O. I know..I know: water is supposed to be the black woman's kryptonite but this black woman loooooooves it. And I realized that having a blowout meant that no amount of water should ever come in contact with my head unless I was washing it or planned on trooping to the hair salon right after. Also, though I'm not a sweaty person, I do sweat a lot during the summer from my head. It was a hell hot day in early June and I had just gotten my hair done the day before. In an attempt to preserve my do and keep my head cool, I tried my best to escape the heat. But it was so excruciatingly hot that day that even thinking and breathing caused small beads of perspiration to trickle down the sides of my face. Needless to say by the afternoon the front of my hair looked like I was channeling Don King and the ends looked like Cher circa 1970s -- trust me not a good look.

Sooo I racked my brain to figure out a hairdo that would preserve my sexy [thanks Diddy] during my transition, regardless of the season, and didn't mean I had to surrender to the TWA.

Ladies and gentlemen I ....... got ........ a ...... WEAVE! [DOUBLE GASP]

Trust me I know. Up until now I was mostly against weaves. I didn't mind them on other people but I always viewed them as an alternative for females that had trouble growing their own. I guess weaves becoming all the craze now and my current hair issues, has helped me change my mind. So now I'm rocking a cute wet and weavy chin length do that requires little maintenance, keeps my new growth tamed, and allows me to have fun in the sun without worrying.

The weave has gotten many compliments. It's cute and looks like it could be mine. Usually upon seeing the new hair do folks admit they love it but ask me why I decided to cut my hair again [the first big cut deserves it own blog entry. It some come, trust]. Since I'm not ashamed of my newly acquired tresses, I've been sure to let all complimenters know that I haven't cut my hair and that it isn't mine. After hearing this news most people have immediately come closer to me, closer meaning practically standing on top of me, in order to get a better look. Once they've examined, examined meaning poking/and or tugging, it efficiently, they've been sure to ask me why would someone with such beautiful long hair put a weave on their head. I get into a looooooong explanation involving TWAs, water, summer, blow-dryers that can melt metal, and my decision to go natural. As soon as the word natural escaped my mouth folks have reacted as if I said I loved William Hung's album and that my kids can stay with Michael at Neverland Ranch any day. A lot of folks roll their eyes and groan that "now everyone is going natural!". ....... I wonder if back in the late 70s and early 80s someone stood around the black hair care aisle, waited until some woman picked up a box of Dark & Lovely Relaxer System or TCB's No Lye/No Mix Relaxer Kit, and said, "now everyone is getting a perm!" as they stomped off sucking their teeth and shaking their afros in disgust. Just wondering. So what if a lot of people are deciding to go natural? Going natural isn't like jumping on the bandwagon and buying a popular pair of sneakers. You can't accuse someone of "biting a style" because they've chosen to wear their hair how it grows out of their head. I was never aware of natural going out of style.

I've heard it all. People have incessantly tried to convince me that I shouldn't go natural by telling me ridiculous natural hair horror stories that they've heard from a friend's mother's aunt, who heard it from her pastor's dentist. You'd think I was a devil worshipping heathen in the midst of the Southern Baptist Convention; the way folks have been trying to get me to change my mind. One person let me know that the reason why so many passionately reject my choice to go natural is because it's not often " you see a dark skin woman with long straight hair that's all hers". [Imagine that after this was said there was deafening silence on my part] Soooooo basically since -- supposedly-- not many woman with darker complexions have long straight hair that grew from their heads I should continue perming? Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigggggggggght.

Never ceases to amaze me how people can become so attached to something that doesn't belong to them. It's almost as if everyone is a stockholder in my hair, so they feel that they can rightfully tell me what I should/should not do with it.

Needless to say, the natural hair naysayers got into my mind last week and had me doubting my decision. I had a short lived breakdown and lapse of judgment. But I was eventually able to get back on track, thanks to good friends who know how badly I want this.

Sigh. I won't front. I too am victim to society's standards of beauty. Going natural is hard. It forces you to look at yourself with no enhancers and accept what you see. There will be days that I'll be tempted to run see Angela and ask her to slap some chemicals on my scalp. There will be even more days when I'll have to look in the mirror and truly love all of me. I'll get there though....one day and natural strand at a time.

Friday, July 22, 2005

laughter is a cure all

In my ears: Ribbon in the Sky, Stevie Wonder -- Midnight Train to Georgia, Gladys Knight and the Pips -- You, Jesse Powell

I'm back home in NY for the weekend.

One of my closest girlfriends is having her engagement party tomorrow in CT, so I decided to hop on the
$15 Fung Wah and visit home before the festivities.

Though I've tried to fight it, in these past 4 years, Boston has definately grown on me--kind of like that obnoxious but damn sure entertaining relative that you can't help but have a special place in your heart for. Boston is where I've spent my
college years. The place where I learned--that just because you're an amazing person doesn't mean that everyone is going to love you as much as you love them, how small the world is, the value of a $1 and true friends, not everything lasts forever but that's okay, how oh so necessary music and laughter are in my life, that I don't break easily and that my silent strength comes from my mother, how little I need in life to actually be happy, some things are better left unsaid, and when it rains it pours but after a storm the sun shines even brighter. Boston is where I've danced until my wash and set was finished and so were my shoes-- where I saw Nikki Giovanni, Tracy Morgan, Vivian Green, Musiq Soulchild, John Witherspoon, Luther Vandross, Gerald Levert, Dave Chappelle, Nelly Furtado, Arnez J, Maya Angelou, and Dwele -- where I went here, here, here, here , here, and here--where I worked here, here, here, here and here--where I had friendship making conversations till the early hours of the morning--where I lost and gained so much--where I realized that my mother is and always will be my # 1 fan. Yeah..finally walking across that stage will be bitter sweet.

Regardless of where I end up in this world at the end of the day I'll always be a ride or die New Yorker. I LOVE HOME. My family is like a Haitian Brady Bunch. HA! We love, cry, and laugh hard. They are a riot! Everyone is a comedian. I think we value laughter because we know what heart piercing pain feels like. We have experienced our fair share of collective and individual battles. We laugh loud , often and together to prove that heartache doesn't last forever and how much we truly love one another. Anyone that comes over is guarenteed to leave with their bellies hurting due to the delicious food ( the way my mother throws down is sinful) and the hours spent laughing.

Tell me why the ringer of my 16 year old sister's cellphone is
Lil' Webbie's Give Me That (I'm not even going to talk about how when I was 16 having a cellphone was definately out of the question..maybe in a later post)! Out of all of us Shirlgirl has always been the one with a slight "around the way girl" edge to her. She can do all the latest dances, knows the lyrics to almost every song, is taking AP and honors courses, and has been the president of her class for the past 3 years. She's growing up in a time where male artists are increasingly vulgar, we've almost become completely desensitized to nudity, and girls and boys are sexually active too early. I'm tempted to worry because I've seen young girls get caught up and lose themselves. But I know that if some Lil' Webbie wannabe rolled up on Shirlgirl and told her to 'stop playing games' so that he could 'beat it out the frame', she would most definately 'wop wop get loose' on his a#$. That's why I admire Shirlgirl. Because I know that no matter how old she gets she'll always have a NY girl's forthright. She serves the truth straight with no chaser.

Thursday, July 21, 2005

My words as my sword..what I learned from Ida B.


“[O]nly the southern white man’s misrepresentations are in the public libraries and college textbooks of the land. The black men who made the history of that day were too modest to write of it, or did not realize the importance of the written word to their posterity.” ~ Ida B. Wells Barnett

--------
Okay, so I've been contemplating for some time now on whether or not I should start a blog.

Close friends--and sometimes not so close friends--know that I'm open about sharing personal aspects of myself and the various hilarious/random/ thought provoking/ sometimes sad/motivating/interesting things I've been through.

Extremely close friends also know that regardless of how open I am there is still a part of me that is deeply shy and guarded. I decided to quit my hemming and hawing and start this blog, knowing that it's ultimately up to me to decide how much I want to share........

I chose to call my blog -Living/Something Like It -because often when folks ask, 'How are you doing?' instead of saying 'I'm fine' or 'Not so good' my usual response is, 'Living'. A lot of times people tell me that my answer sounds depressing and I'm always surprised because for me living life is a positive experience.

Almost every part of my life is in transition right now. I'm entering my final year of college and I haven't figured out what I want do post undergrad let alone what I want to do with the rest of my life. What I do know is that writing and people are my passions and I want to incorporate the both of them into a soul fulfilling career.

Since I was able to read I understood the power of words. Till this day I can almost always be found reading a magazine, newspaper, novel, or simple flier.

In first grade I started to write stories. At that time I wanted to be like Mallory Pike, a character in the popular The Baby-Sitter Club Series by Ann M. Martin. Mallory was a young aspiring writer who was white with curly red hair and freckles. At the impressionable age of 7 I thought that in order for me to become a writer I too would have to have freckles and red hair. My mother, a very proud Haitian woman, quickly let me know that there were writers who share my deep brown skin and thick raven colored hair.

Another memory that sticks out me is the summer between the 4th and 5th grade. The kids in my camp group liked to read my stories during our bus rides. One day on the bus my friend Melissa, who was wise beyond her years, handed me back one of my stories and asked, 'Are all your the people always white?'. I was taken aback by her question because the race of the characters in my story never crossed my mind. After thinking about it I told her that most of the people in my stories were white. 'Why?' she asked. I realized her question wasn't meant to hurt my feelings or make me feel uncomfortable. Melissa wanted me to think. Out of all the questions I've been posed in my life that one holds a significant place in my conscience. I truly believe that her question has played a role in shaping me. Though it wasn't said Melissa was asking me at the age of 9 to assert the purpose of my words and determine whose story I was trying to tell. It was that summer, on that bus that I became aware of myself and my voice within the African Diaspora.

After that summer panic washed over me because I was late. At 9 I thought that it had taken me too long to become interested in the stories within my history. Eagerly I wanted to find and devour the words of my ancestors. During my journey back I encountered Ida B. Wells and I would never be the same. It wasn't only her story that struck me but also her unwavering crusade to tell the stories of others.

Ida B. taught me the power of the written word.