Politically Incorrect

cultural groups. self-identity. nationality. racism. separatism. colonialism. tribe. self-hate. regional. category. language. african-american. black. white. latin. spanish. negro. caucasian. native. other. love. respect. yourself.

Passion that Matters

Things That Make You Go Hmmm...*

I want to extend a a bit more on today's earlier post because I woke up still seething and in disbelief that I'm romantically involved with this individual. I'd like to express my point of view in a academic manner in which I'm accustomed since I am a young college-educated Black woman and I couldn't leave this subject matter alone just yet.

Things That Make You Go Hmmm...

It's been awhile since, I've written and ironically I was discussing this very subject with my best friend. Tonight, I was on the phone with a... errr, "friend" (after this discussion I'm not so sure). Fantasia Barrino's reality show "Fantasia for Real" was on. The episode focused on the aftermath of her attempted suicide and the media fallout. I kept focusing on how overly made up she was and her make-up being ruined as she cried while recounting the events. I thought to myself, that there are times when I feel she's an attractive around the way girl but when made up dramatically, she isn't anything to write home about.

Just My Two Cents: Marriage

via: Necole Bitchie

Marriage within the Biblical Christian faith was/is believed to illustrate the relationship between Christ and the Church; it also receives social, economic and political recognition within many societies. In many cultures it's also perceived as a business transaction of sorts (e.g. dowries, bride price) that benefits the husband because women were (sometimes still) considered "chattel" or property and expected to fulfill responsibilities concerning the household, husband and children.

Fast forward to today and the divorce rate in America is purportedly close to 50%. What's the direct cause? Many can speculate, but considering this country's declining moral compass and the ratio of women to men, one wouldn't need to think too hard on the possibilities. In my humble opinion, I agree with certain points that were made in the video commentary (unnecessary cussing and all), simply because of the unhappy marriages I've witnessed within my short lifetime. His animated point on when he hears about a marriage not working out was on target, "And it's so stupid for people to say, 'Oh marriage doesn't work'...Its not about marriage, its about...your relationship didn't work. You dumbass motherfucker!" Most folks I know who's marriage ended in divorce or is currently on the outs, usually never had any business being married  since it may have been out of some twisted sort of convenience. Also, justifying a relationship before God only to end in divorce, is a slap in His face as well as utterly time consuming and ridiculously expensive.

I understand anyone's decision to marry and I respect it (even if it may be for nefarious reasons -Translation = entrapment), but you won't catch me, in his words, "...Walk[ing] down the aisle like the fucking pope or some shit." Just my two cents.

Emerging Adulthood

The popular late 1980's African-American sitcom, A Different World, is what inspired me to attend college, particularly a historical Black college or university (HBCU). The comedy depicted the lives of several students attending the fictional Hillman College while exploring social issues, glamorizing Black sororities and fraternities, and giving an overall structure of college life. When high school drew nearer to a close, I made sure college applications were sent off and my college tour rounds were completed, because my dreams of freedom, partying, new friends and most importantly placing one foot forward toward my writing career, was becoming clearer.

Guilty Pleasure Much?

Sneak peek of the Real Housewives of Atlanta Season 3:

Quote of the Day

"It is said, the most violent revolutions are the revolutions of the stomach." - Rahimyar Khan

Been to Hell & Back...But I Found My Cloud

The view leaving Punta Cana

Dear Journal,

It's been a hectic two months and in the midst of it all, I've neglected you. I will not ask for forgiveness but I'll admit much of it was no fault of my own. I'll give you the short version. I went on a fabulous vacation to Punta Cana, Dominican Republic and threw down with a couple of spiders, visited with my father and little brother in Orlando, FL; returned from my trip and was promptly thrown off my bliss train by the abrupt departure of my boss and was given a semi-half-assed promotion (I still didn't get the memo on what exactly my new title is). Meanwhile I was ripped off by Toshiba computers and was without my laptop for over six weeks (See? Not my fault), and this past weekend alone I was involved in a catastrophic upheaval that involved me, my sister and a 911 call. Ehh. What an eventful summer I've been having.

Even though I refuse to go into each and every detail, I've learned several things, but the most important one: I cannot change everyone around me, but I can become a better me. I will forever be a work in progress. This summer many unexpected events were thrown my way, but I realize the best solution is to step back and address every situation accordingly because ultimately, I am always in control of me and I still have to wake up and live with myself.

The Bible says, "Pride goeth before destruction and an haughty spirit before a fall; Better it is to be of an humble spirit with the lowly, than to divide the spoil with the proud."

Facebook Woes + Newfound Capabilities

About a week and a half ago, I deleted my Facebook account. Its something I wanted to do for a few months but didn't really see commitment in the act and found excuses to avoid it. During my pity party session right after I encountered the man on the bus incident, I axed the account. My moment in time reason was deleting numbers from my phone wasn't cutting it and I decided to make the move. I haven't broken down and sneaked a peek into this week's latest updates from "friends" and family but I believe that I can maintain my stance. For now. Well, no I really plan to. But, I need to breakdown my initial reason for bailing out on Facebook...

Loves+Laughs+Christmas List

Loves:
My newest book obsession is Dean Koontz. I've retired Toni Morrison and fellow Black authors for a bit and decided to explore more of the thriller/mystery genre. I adore Koontz's overall story lines but his writing leaves a lot to be desired for the true literary bluffs. He tends to overwrite using lots of fluff (I actually believe he writes with a thesaurus in his lap) while dragging the back story which can leave you annoyed with the protagonist but the reader is soon rewarded for sticking it out with a courageous tale of good triumphing over evil. Based on Amazon reviews his older novels are a treat, so for my next trip to Borders I'll be indulging in:

The Orb

Dear Journal,

I am allowed a pity party. I detest when others participate in their own but I need to bare an honest lonely soul. Monday morning I contemplated swallowing a bottle of prescription sleeping pills that would sufficiently put me to rest. Tears soaked my pillow as I pictured the bottle in the far reaches of my drawer. Only two footfalls away from my bed, all I needed to do was empty the bottle of pills and one by one slip the chalky oblong shaped substances into my mouth...and just swallow. So simple and so easy. I've never met anyone who hasn't been beckoned by life ending paranoia, so readers of my journal don't be paralyzed with fear that I've been tempted, yet again. My feet anchored to the bed while I thought of my four year old brother who I only met a year and a half ago and my plans to whisk him away to Disney World where dreams come true alongside the $2000 vacation I scrimped and saved for to the Dominican Republic next month. The upcoming events that last week I made painstaking sacrifices to finalize, momentarily seemed trivial. Or what about my dog? What would become of him? Would he wander around whimpering looking for his mother/owner? Those were the only things that came to mind, if I succumbed. On the very anniversary of a relative's suicide, I was thinking of my own. Loneliness encumbered my already heavy heart and I trembled at the further pains I'd have to endure if I were to continue trying to tear the thick cobwebs from around it. Lately my reading choices have eased into the macabre apocalyptic genre where humans are revealed as destructive bitter voids intent on hatred, fed by fear and moved by nothing at all. Its all fiction and false but its a glimpse into the reality of the world. Nearly three days ago, a man balled his hand into a fist and pumped me in my chest because he didn't want to give up the empty seat next to him on the bus and passengers silently sat by, mouths agape. It reminded me of an incident a few years back where I was groped by giggling school age boys in a crowded train station which evoked vivid memories of a sexual assault I've never coped with. The humiliation of that rape still causes nausea to swell into my chest at the thought of any stranger's unwelcome touch and I remembered refusing to leave my bed for days after the groping. The empty stares of the onlookers on that bus and on the subway all those years back, reminded me of people's indifference to an obvious grotesque situation and further made me realize how lonely I was. I had no one to call to receive comfort from because the triggers and violations wouldn't be understood. Not fully. I called my "situation"/ex-boyfriend for his quality reassurance and he hung up. Alone. It hurts to be lonely on the anniversary of a relative's suicide. Scary. So I rode it out. Allowed the tears to soak my pillow and listened to the small voice in my head that told me to rest and wake up later.

Two days later, I'm here.

'The Lazarus Effect'

...and I realize I have it all.

Quote of the Day

"Love launches us into new territory. To explore the new, the old must be left. It means leaving earlier levels of accomplishment & relationship & growing into new ones. Every act of love is a risk of the self. There are no guarantees in love. Much can go wrong: we can get hurt; we can be rejected; we can be deceived. But without risking these perils there can only be a repetition of old patterns, the routine of old comfort.
The self cannot be itself if it does not grow, & for a creature made in the image of God to grow is to love..." - Eugene H. Peterson

(quote via: She is)

Spaceship

You know what I realized? Dealing with people is one of the hardest things for me to do. I don't think I've learned how to manage getting use to their egos, their pride, their baggage, their opposite personalities and their opinions. I know that this is what comes with handling and interacting with others but when you have absolutely no idea how to gauge your own colorful make-up, the two becomes an impossible juggling act. So I usually throw up my hands and deem the person, "unmanageable" and pretty much show them the middle finger. Its always been easier for me to wear a frown upon my face, ready an impenetrable attitude and hurl a slew of insults for those unworthy few. Trying to turn around my way of thinking has been impossibly hard but in my hated moments of self-reflection, I think,"Can I really continue to behave this way?" Because who wants to go through life not being able to maintain connections with people who might be able to offer something of importance, no matter how small?

Over a month ago, I ran into a former college roommate of mine on the ferry into lower Manhattan. She sat across from me and her blank eyes briefly met mine. The laughter that wanted to explode from my face wasn't one that could be held so I quickly got up and relieved myself on the upper deck. This girl was infamous around campus for attaching herself to people because she was explainably friendless. People initially welcomed her efforts but she usually became too tiring and a bit stalkerish. When I moved into my new dorm, I told my friends about my roommate and everyone's eyes widened in horror. "Good luck," they told me. Dorm rules were written out and emphasized and I felt confident that we'd get along. She seemed alright a bit talkative but I'm well known for my nasty looks that can silence most people, so I felt that I would be on top of the situation. A few weeks in, I entered my room late one night and she sat in the middle of her bed with a frown. "Could I talk to you?" she asked. It was late and I didn't feel like entertaining any conversations that would turn into a monologue but I gave in. She then proceeded to list the problems that she felt were brewing on my part: I didn't speak to her upon entering our space, I was too quiet, she thought we'd hang out more...etc. It was the weirdest conversation because she felt as if I had this obligation to her as my roommate. Which to me of course wasn't the case, because #1: I didn't choose her as my roommate and #2: I didn't need to do shit because, well hell, I paid to live there (looking back on it, that was way harsh, but I had a real attitude issue then). The night didn't end so well, since I told her to suck it up because not everything was about her and moreover, roommates didn't equal immediate friendship. The situation went downhill from then. If my mother called and it was after 10 p.m. she'd complain and ask that she call earlier instead; she'd wake up early on the mornings I had late classes and bang purposely on her keyboard; she'd touch my television without permission (a definite no no that was outlined in our dorm rules); and then she wouldn't do her half of the chores that were agreed upon. The final straw was when I requested she type a bit softer because it was 7 o'clock in the morning and she yelled for me to shut up. I yanked my covers back and quickly advanced on her with every intention of physical harm when her hands went up in surrender with a meek, "I'm sorry." I left the room in a rage, returned hours later and her side of the room was deserted. I never saw her again.

Whenever I think of that situation, I wondered how I could've dealt with it differently. Its a stretch to believe we would've been friends but acquaintances wouldn't hurt. I'm not the easiest person to co-exist with and believe me, there are moments when I need a break from myself. Its already frustrating that I have issues about maintaining connections with others, but I don't want to be the girl who everyone whispers about because I'm explainably friendless.

I'll have to make due until I can finish building my spaceship and begin construction on my castle located on cloud LoyaltyReliableCourtesy.

...And it Just Keeps Coming

Its sickening the emotional roller coaster that I've been on the past couple of weeks. I'm beginning to annoy myself and the anger is beginning to swell and spill over onto others. Today marks the seventh week of my internship and I'm just about ready to quit which is my usual reaction to situations that frustrates me, but obviously because I'm trying out this "adult" thing, I can't do that. Besides the menial duties that I've been assigned, I've been receiving increasing passive aggressive comments from co-workers. These comments range from the way I might have completed an assignment, to jokes that a normal person would consider offensive and inappropriate for a work environment. Meanwhile I deal by biting my lip and counting backwards from ten because I'm only the intern. Besides that, I work with individuals who complain incessantly about their jobs. Everyone has their hang-ups about their workplace from time to time but when you have people huddling in corners whispering about how "incompetent" the boss is, that's crossing the line. Take that outside of the workplace and pick up a guide on professional etiquette, OR quit and run your own damn company. I've taken on internships where I've felt belittled and I accepted that the person who handed out the mistreatment obviously didn't leave their personal issues at home and besides it was an academic requirement, so I swallowed my anger and shut up. The difference now is, I'm here by absolute choice and I'm overqualified in terms of my job's description. So in this matter, do I sit back and take the idiocy or leave and move on to something where my efforts are a bit more appreciated in a more professionally suited environment?

Have You Smiled Lately?

As I lay in bed waiting for my best friend called sleep to greet me, the strangest thing occurs: I feel the lower half of my face wrestle with my cheeks and the corners of my mouth helplessly turn upward. Its the most random facial emotion to feel right now because of the long day that I've had paired with the start of a trying week and I haven't had a smile yet. "Tomorrow is a new day," I whisper. A tiny giggle slips from my lips and drowsily I begin to count sheep. The Dream Land awaits...

Loyal+Reliable+Courteous

loy·al - adjective
1 : unswerving in allegiance: as a: faithful to a private person to whom fidelity is due

re·li·able - adjective
1 : suitable or fit to be relied on : dependable

cour·te·ous - adjective
1 : marked by respect for and consideration of others

Circle of...

Two days ago, I received a friend request on Facebook accompanied by a message that made my heart drop. It was from an ex-best friend that I hadn't spoken with in close to four years. She was a friend that I met while in my first year of my hell hole college and she was my life line. Come to think of it, I don't remember how we actually ended up hanging out but my first memory of us starts when she confided to me and two other girls (turned frenemies) that she was pregnant. It was within the first three weeks of our fall semester, both of us were seventeen, journalism majors and extremely homesick.

Hiatus

Something is wrong with me and its affecting my mouth and my fingers and my eyes.
Dear Journal: I'll be back, I promise, but I wouldn't be true if I couldn't express my thoughts properly. I'm waiting for the write (pun intended) time.

Huh?

So...the internship is going well. And they kept their word and paid me...but...

I Found Something

I feel light. I'm smiling. And I want to hold onto this pretty feeling, because Ugly always rears its head and I soon forget and want to escape the strangulation. But for now I'm wrapped in a cozy blanket and I'm pulling it over my head.

Jungle Fever?

Jill Scott recently wrote an essay for Essence.com on interracial dating that has sparked some intense debate via blogs and websites and since this topic seems to keep coming up in conversations with various individuals, I wanted to comment on it. This could be a while:

Smiley Faces

Had a lovely weekend. ' Tis all.

Children in Africa Starve...

Via: Necole Bitchie

Price tag = $2,800.00 USD
Mommy?

Melanin Flavored & ALWAYS Highly Favored

This evening I was forced to people watch (not that I mind), since I finished "Sula" this morning. I usually try to preoccupy myself with a good read so that I don't fall into a fit of giggles cracking on folks in my head, but this evening I couldn't help it. As I squeezed onto the downtown 1 train, I caught sight of a giggling and smiling White woman with a head full of brittle and brash thinning blond hair that made me shudder. My first thought was, "She's too old to be using such a horrible unnatural hair color." Then my eyes drifted on down to the too tight, leopard print, purple polyester shift dress that was horrendous and unflattering; at this point I needed to understand the rest of her, so I began to focus on the veins popping out of her winter pale skinny legs and I wanted to throw up in my mouth. As the crowd thinned out, I found a seat slightly across from her and took in the strange looking creature. I closed my eyes and murmured, "Thank God for making me melanin-favored."

Sula

I'm re-reading Toni Morrison's novel, "Sula" for the third time. Morrison is one of my favorite authors and everytime I re-read a novel of hers (I own them all) it summons a new inspiration that I didn't receive in the previous reads. Morrison focuses on the book's namesake, Sula Peace, who from the time she was a child to adulthood shared an intimate bond with her bestfriend, Nel Wright. They considered themselves "one and the same" and shared everything from comparing the way one boy kissed, to deathly secrets. Sula and Nel's intimate bond finally shatters when Sula realizes all of Nel's treasures aren't hers to possess and it drives Sula into a wonderous despair that I find myself relating to.

Morrison has a way with words that brings to mind poetry, but she creates such an awesome literary imagination for the reader that it doesn't allow you to drift too far from the agony that Sula feels. Here's an excerpt that really spoke to me because it speaks about my ever-elusive "connectedness":

"...She had been looking all along for a friend, and it took her a while to discover that a lover was not a comrade and could never be - for a woman. And that no one would ever be that version of herself which she sought to reach out to and touch with an ungloved hand. There was only her own mood and whim, and if that was all there was, she decided to turn the naked hand toward it, discover it and let others become as intimate with their own selves as she was."

Forever Young

Saturday, I went to "First Saturdays" at the Brooklyn Museum with my mom and step dad. I was meeting up with one of my good friends from college to catch up. As we strolled through exhibits in our heels we shared our love woes, as hers is similar to mine and vice versa. It seems as though everyone is having relationship issues these days. We found a bench tucked within the Egyptian artifacts exhibit and we related, laughed and pondered. Then it dawned on me that in a few weeks she'll be turning the big two-five and I didn't have much longer until I neared that turning point either. When the hell did that happen? I swear I was just filling out college applications, figuring out if I would be attending my high school prom, cutting class and experimenting with my friends. It all flew by so quickly...

Not that I would want those days back. Sadly, during my teenage experience I always wanted to be an adult. I wanted the freedom that adulthood promised, never needing to answer to anyone since I led a very sheltered childhood. But I lived it, I liked it give or take a few mishaps, but I don't want it again, thank God. With the invention of Facebook and statuses, I've noticed most of my high school and college peers have started families (gasp!) and marriage (yikes!), and I feel as though I haven't even started "adulthood." But to be fair, I never wanted children or marriage, hence why I couldn't wait to embrace freedom at twenty-one. But it still feels as though they "appear" to lead fuller lives rather than an empty one, and I'm scratching my head trying to figure out how do I go about making my life a little more worthier before that big two-five. I guess I have a deadline and some goals to accomplish. Get ready for my list to come.

By the by, my internship starts tomorrow! *Crosses fingers and toes.

The Looking Glass

An hour ago, he called, we argued, I started to cry and I managed to heave through my tears that I couldn't talk to him anymore. I hung up. He called three times back to back, left two voicemails. Sniffling, I made my way to my knees and clasped my hands together in prayer. I asked that HE allow me to move on, to grant me the strength to let this go for sanity's sake and to help me love being me because if I can't how can I love anyone else?

I'm stuck inside this glass while I look around at all the happenings around me, partly because I'm hung up on one person who seems to desire seeing me miserable. Fourth time's a charm? No?

Pursuit of Happiness

My man Kid Cudi. This video sums it up for me.

Ever feel like you're still alone in a crowded room no matter how wonderful the atmosphere? No matter how many nights you stay away from home and surround yourself with the best kind of company something is missing? This feeling overwhelms me 24/7. Trying to maintain this awesome non-existent connectedness to people who have no idea how hard you need their companionship to take away the sting of loneliness and depression. Even then, its all superficial.

I'm in my early 20's, I just graduated from college with a Bachelor of Science in Journalism, I have no children, no loans, absolutely no bills and no credit. Considering my peers, I'm pretty fortunate to be blessed without the financial headaches and crazy responsibilities. I try to maintain a sense of gratefulness for how far I've come because five years ago, I didn't think I'd ever make it to this point. Now I'm here and I think, "What now?" Do I hunt for the financially and responsible socially upward circle of friends who fall within the same pursuits? i.e. ambitions, career paths, vacations annually, etc. Or do I search for what essentially makes my life worth living? And how in the hell does one do that?

Its easy to fall into the superficial of the first option. Having a bevy of pretty girlfriends with these awesome jobs, who wine, dine and party fabulously on the weekends while dating every kind of eligible bachelor that falls under the requirements necessary to keep up appearances. But how old does that get? Even though I'm "financially free," I'm financially broke. Since graduating from school, I've taken on a volunteer position and an internship at a not-for-profit to further my experience in my chosen career field. I left the organization in December and began looking for a job since January 4th. Twelve weeks in, all I've managed to land was a paid internship in new media and marketing for another not-for-profit. Don't get me wrong, I was ecstatic and the pay is the topping, but a day after the news has staled, I'm beginning to think about the other things that "should be" happening to make an even fuller life. Given the state of the economy, I should be grateful to receive ANYTHING paid, but I start to doubt my abilities and wonder if I don't get a salary-based job soon, when will my life actually begin? In this economy, money makes the world go 'round and I'm itching to move on, move out and finally start tending to me in a new environment.

In the second option, where I start finding out who the real me is with/without the fabulous parties, clothes and reckless spending because it can become dangerously lonely, how do I learn to love me and stop leaning on trying to find the right kind of reliable, loyal and courteous people and find those qualities within myself? I have these hang-ups about connections because even while I've had friends around, I've always felt...alone. I always fall flat on my face when it hits me all over again how truly alone I am, even when friends and family have promised to be around there's always something missing, as if I'm grasping onto this invisible notion of real happiness. How do I go about being happy with me? I've always been a loner so trying to find what makes me feel great is something I've tried and it gets no better than reading, sleeping and listening to music. With my life "on hold" because of this job thingy, its more pressing than anytime before especially because the safety net that school provided is no longer around. This new phase of my life is suppose to begin but it didn't take off with the bang that I expected, and now I'm left spending days and nights in bed with the shades drawn while waiting for the phone call that will let me know I could press play on my life again.

Window Seat

Erykah Badu's new video "Window Seat" is causing some controversy due to the nudity and the location in which it was shot.

But I definitely love the lyrics to the song and dig the commentary at the end of the video:

"They play it safe, are quick to assassinate what they do not understand. They move in packs, ingesting more and more fear with every act of hate on one another. They feel most comfortable in groups; less guilty to swallow. They are us; this is what we have become, afraid to respect the individual. A single person within our circumstance can move one to change, to love herself, to evolve."

And here's another video for shits and giggles:

Thoughts Captivity

Now, the first post was just a little bit of venting. It was late and I honestly needed to write down my feelings. Its a new therapeutic way of dealing that I'm using to handle issues when it begins to weigh too heavily on my brain. Everyone has been encouraging this for a while and for once I decided not to be hard headed and go for it. What could be the harm right? I could think of a few... but I will remain positive.

I didn't start this blog to "brush up on my writing," or to solely complain about current situations/ex-boyfriends, but for "self-analysis" as my therapist puts it. I need to do a little soul searching and find out the purpose for many a situation I put myself in and sometimes not, but I'm taking a crack at chronicling these thoughts and events of my life so I can learn how to better deal with them. I hate writing about myself because I usually try to avoid these self-assessment type of exercises but I will pledge to keep up with this journal, since there are going to be far more challenging exercises I'll need to overcome. Hopefully this will work.

Photographs

I found a picture of my parents during happier times about a year ago. The picture dates back to the mid-80s and they look completely infatuated with one another. My father is looking at my mother while he has her locked in an embrace and she's smiling shyly for the lucky camera man. Its something I've never witnessed within their relationship and its why I've held onto the rare memento because they're no longer together. I always gaze at this photograph, wondering where did their relationship go wrong, because this picture is proof that it was once a great relationship. Are all relationships JUST great in the beginning?