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

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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.