ha! so it turns out that i won't have to see fam or denver in a box. i can't go to jamaica just like i couldn't visit aunt dawn, cuz i'm broke. denver was deported so the u.s. government has gracefully denied his body access to ever touch their territory again. how badass no? blhhhh!!!. i could puke on that flag right now. or just the immagration or justice or which ever department makes this decision.
blhhhhhh!
Dec 21, 2007
tired of crying and i can't see...
So Dec. 6, 2007 my aunt Dawn Collette Davis went to rest in the arms of "her" Jesus. I found that she has alot to do with the person i am today. she was and is one of my biggest heroes while living and dying. I wanted to dedicate this entry to her but that will have to wait cuz i'm not in such a positive mood right now cuz before my aunt Dawn was buried even a full week tonight some coward in jamaica saw fit to kill my cousin denver, 3 days before christmas, outside my gramma's house...while his parents wer taking to each other on the phone. 3 days and my aunt could have seen her son. does this mean another one is coming. you know the whole "death in threes" theory. does this mean...hell. i'm sooo tired of having to make ourselves feel better by dreaming up some life our dearly departed never lived. luckily with aunt dawn she was crazy, inappropriate, real and raw and sooooooo in love with jesus. denver i'm not too sure.
he stop drugging and drinking...even partying, says my aunt colleen but... you never know and you just try to hope for the best, because taking it for what it is hurts even more than the deafening midnight call or cry heard from a relative saying, delroy, donald, and now denver are gone. such hogwash. all i've got is prayers. i say that and pause... and watch this cursor blink cuz it's really all i have to give and i know it might not sound like much to some but it's a grandest gesture possible. blink blink, my cousin is dead. shit this hurts. and how the hell am i supposed to... i dunno. i just... i can't talk so writing is the only thing that will help right now.
my mother called auntie to see just let her talk... she's seen death so many times now that she didn't really cry until she spoke to her. man, i can not do another funeral. i can't see family only cuz someone's died. i can't hear my gramma mourn another grandchild which quickly segues into her mourning her own child again.
i can't see my aunt's face as she stares at or even holds her child one last time alone, cuz uncle danny can't come home. i can't see his son!!!! i cannot see denver!!!!!! i cannot see denver davis in a ....box? a box.
he stop drugging and drinking...even partying, says my aunt colleen but... you never know and you just try to hope for the best, because taking it for what it is hurts even more than the deafening midnight call or cry heard from a relative saying, delroy, donald, and now denver are gone. such hogwash. all i've got is prayers. i say that and pause... and watch this cursor blink cuz it's really all i have to give and i know it might not sound like much to some but it's a grandest gesture possible. blink blink, my cousin is dead. shit this hurts. and how the hell am i supposed to... i dunno. i just... i can't talk so writing is the only thing that will help right now.
my mother called auntie to see just let her talk... she's seen death so many times now that she didn't really cry until she spoke to her. man, i can not do another funeral. i can't see family only cuz someone's died. i can't hear my gramma mourn another grandchild which quickly segues into her mourning her own child again.
i can't see my aunt's face as she stares at or even holds her child one last time alone, cuz uncle danny can't come home. i can't see his son!!!! i cannot see denver!!!!!! i cannot see denver davis in a ....box? a box.
Nov 17, 2007
How, Where, When?
(long over due draft form august)
You know when you go to a new restaurant and you think you've found what option/combo/ or whatever's best for you? You order and hope to goodness that it will rock your socks... or flops? The meal comes and your's isn't what you had hoped? Everyone else's seems sooo appetizing? Then you think"..daaaang. how did they know that would work out? Theirs' looks sooo good! Maybe I'll try that next time... or not. Oh well i guess this will due...."
This is what came to mind when thinking of how to explain what I've been feeling... for most of my life, especially in the past two weeks. I've prayed over and given a lot of thought to what I should and want to do with my life. How I could use my talents and how God might want me to use them for him... and i have only been able to view it through one application, art. I'm not sure how it will come about. my life starting... a career starting including art.
I've grown comfortable with the idea of teaching art. Yay! I think ??? Then come the runners up now that the "what" may have finally been answered.... how, when, and where. While randomly talking to some folks about their six month to 5-yr plans I always think, "man, that's cool, but is it for me?" How do we distinguish between a good path and our proper paths?
I know that I've been blessed in many ways but now I want to harness those gifts and find tune them with some skill or.... I Don't even know if that makes sense or if that's how it works. Garrrr!
I have a funny feeling that I won't find out for a while. This waiting business is rrrough! Grrrrr! Another uneasy feeling I get is that I will be over influenced by my mother, missing the opportunity of a lifetime only because I didn't want to disappoint her. How can I live my own life for God and not some idea of how others think I should.
How, Where, When?
You know when you go to a new restaurant and you think you've found what option/combo/ or whatever's best for you? You order and hope to goodness that it will rock your socks... or flops? The meal comes and your's isn't what you had hoped? Everyone else's seems sooo appetizing? Then you think"..daaaang. how did they know that would work out? Theirs' looks sooo good! Maybe I'll try that next time... or not. Oh well i guess this will due...."
This is what came to mind when thinking of how to explain what I've been feeling... for most of my life, especially in the past two weeks. I've prayed over and given a lot of thought to what I should and want to do with my life. How I could use my talents and how God might want me to use them for him... and i have only been able to view it through one application, art. I'm not sure how it will come about. my life starting... a career starting including art.
I've grown comfortable with the idea of teaching art. Yay! I think ??? Then come the runners up now that the "what" may have finally been answered.... how, when, and where. While randomly talking to some folks about their six month to 5-yr plans I always think, "man, that's cool, but is it for me?" How do we distinguish between a good path and our proper paths?
I know that I've been blessed in many ways but now I want to harness those gifts and find tune them with some skill or.... I Don't even know if that makes sense or if that's how it works. Garrrr!
I have a funny feeling that I won't find out for a while. This waiting business is rrrough! Grrrrr! Another uneasy feeling I get is that I will be over influenced by my mother, missing the opportunity of a lifetime only because I didn't want to disappoint her. How can I live my own life for God and not some idea of how others think I should.
How, Where, When?
Nov 5, 2007
Beyond Just Lions and Tiger and Bears and Why
So I told a friend the other day I had to lay off the Harry Potter stuff cuz i get too engrossed and it's a bit too shifty for me anymore. I had the book for like two months and only got as far as 30 pages. I knew it was time to let it go. then I told the same homie that i would only listen if it fell in my lap and that I wasnt' trying to seek it out anymore.
Low and behold, the next week the 6th Harry Potter book fell in my lap, cd styles. it was so easy and sooooo very interesting. i just couldn't understand how someone could write soooo vividly. the fluidity of her thoughts captured on paper began to perplex me. the originality was off the charts! I began to wonder if her, J.K. Tolken's, research took her through much of real history of withces and wiccah. I let my thoughts rest and just continued to enjoy it all. I finished today thinking, "Dang that stuff is crazy!", followed by wondering if she was in wiccah herself or what??
So today I got an email from my bro saying "this is worth reading". It was about the new movie the Golden Compass. The email was attached with a link to some site that brought something to light that I've been thinking about quite a bit. I know better than to believe everything I read but this comfirmed my theory. Maybe you guys already know about this but i was like, "Dang! I may finally have to let this go."
The article said that the author, Phillip Pullman, of said novel to film was written in response to the C.S. Lewis' The Chronicles of Narnia trilogy. There's also something about him hating C.S. and Christianity and his goal was to kill God inthe mind of children. And then it clicked!
The rise of magic, vampires, superheroes and what-not has recently taken a more innocent role. whether the target audience is youth or adults. I just noticed that there is no higher power involved other than the superheroes themselves and that it always works out as long as you have each other. Though the Pullman goal maybe to directly affect the realtionships of children with God that doesn't mean all of these authors feel this way right??? ( enter incredulous sigh or kissing of the teeth here). NOT everyone is on the same page but are they still ending up in the same direction?
I guess I'm seeing more clearly why parents prefer not to have they're kids so engrossed in this stuff.
can it really kill God for kid? will they hope to replace God with the things they find in books. is it enought to just explain to them that God is real though he presents himself differently.
I guess many find solace in the fact that these shows and books all seem to have the overall themes which parallel love and the good guy always wins in the end or should...but it's a bit deeper than that. what I've been facing lately is, "what would a life be without God be?" and "why am i spending soo much time in these worlds were God is only mentioned out of fear". I haven't quite acted on these thoughts yet but maybe I should. dunno guess that's what blogging is all about. just getting it out. and dealing with it at some point.
this may seem foolish to most but i suppose this is a way of me lining up my ducks in my realtionship with God...and dealing with the fact that i may have to give up aaall my favorite shows...guess these are the breaks.
Low and behold, the next week the 6th Harry Potter book fell in my lap, cd styles. it was so easy and sooooo very interesting. i just couldn't understand how someone could write soooo vividly. the fluidity of her thoughts captured on paper began to perplex me. the originality was off the charts! I began to wonder if her, J.K. Tolken's, research took her through much of real history of withces and wiccah. I let my thoughts rest and just continued to enjoy it all. I finished today thinking, "Dang that stuff is crazy!", followed by wondering if she was in wiccah herself or what??
So today I got an email from my bro saying "this is worth reading". It was about the new movie the Golden Compass. The email was attached with a link to some site that brought something to light that I've been thinking about quite a bit. I know better than to believe everything I read but this comfirmed my theory. Maybe you guys already know about this but i was like, "Dang! I may finally have to let this go."
The article said that the author, Phillip Pullman, of said novel to film was written in response to the C.S. Lewis' The Chronicles of Narnia trilogy. There's also something about him hating C.S. and Christianity and his goal was to kill God inthe mind of children. And then it clicked!
The rise of magic, vampires, superheroes and what-not has recently taken a more innocent role. whether the target audience is youth or adults. I just noticed that there is no higher power involved other than the superheroes themselves and that it always works out as long as you have each other. Though the Pullman goal maybe to directly affect the realtionships of children with God that doesn't mean all of these authors feel this way right??? ( enter incredulous sigh or kissing of the teeth here). NOT everyone is on the same page but are they still ending up in the same direction?
I guess I'm seeing more clearly why parents prefer not to have they're kids so engrossed in this stuff.
can it really kill God for kid? will they hope to replace God with the things they find in books. is it enought to just explain to them that God is real though he presents himself differently.
I guess many find solace in the fact that these shows and books all seem to have the overall themes which parallel love and the good guy always wins in the end or should...but it's a bit deeper than that. what I've been facing lately is, "what would a life be without God be?" and "why am i spending soo much time in these worlds were God is only mentioned out of fear". I haven't quite acted on these thoughts yet but maybe I should. dunno guess that's what blogging is all about. just getting it out. and dealing with it at some point.
this may seem foolish to most but i suppose this is a way of me lining up my ducks in my realtionship with God...and dealing with the fact that i may have to give up aaall my favorite shows...guess these are the breaks.
to make things clear. this is just my opinion and maybe even stumbling block and i'm not suggesting anyone else do anything.
Sep 18, 2007
whatever your hands find to do...rock out!
my manager has been brow-beating this concept, i mean, like kidney punching it into me. however he came at it like Jesus clearly said " what ever your hands find to do, do them to the best of your ability and/or to the glory or God". but that means nothing if you dont' find meaning in what you do.
lately I've been finding meaning. but does this also mean do with what you've got don't look forward to getting any more??? I thought that to be a ...strange feeling for those in the who are meter maids, sewage jumpers and the milk man who have no other prospects, and well people who haven't been given as many talents as most or aren't always appreciated in whatever job they find themselves.
I know there are loads of people who rock whatever they've been given to do so I feel compelled to do better with all that I have. I am moved the be the hittin'-est jamBila the world has EVER seen. I wanna take all my talents and milk them for all they are worth and give, give, give!
so, it seems the verbal abuse of repition has finally found it's destination. an understanding of what I'm to do with what I do. the only question now is how? and for whom? I'm sure it will be a fun and exciting journey answering those questions too!
my manager has been brow-beating this concept, i mean, like kidney punching it into me. however he came at it like Jesus clearly said " what ever your hands find to do, do them to the best of your ability and/or to the glory or God". but that means nothing if you dont' find meaning in what you do.
lately I've been finding meaning. but does this also mean do with what you've got don't look forward to getting any more??? I thought that to be a ...strange feeling for those in the who are meter maids, sewage jumpers and the milk man who have no other prospects, and well people who haven't been given as many talents as most or aren't always appreciated in whatever job they find themselves.
I know there are loads of people who rock whatever they've been given to do so I feel compelled to do better with all that I have. I am moved the be the hittin'-est jamBila the world has EVER seen. I wanna take all my talents and milk them for all they are worth and give, give, give!
so, it seems the verbal abuse of repition has finally found it's destination. an understanding of what I'm to do with what I do. the only question now is how? and for whom? I'm sure it will be a fun and exciting journey answering those questions too!
the irony lies with in the namesake
(when my blog was called the adventures of another "happy girl")
i'm sure the irony of the name of this blog has not escaped everyone. but clearly it never occurred to me until a couple of months ago. i kept hoping i would shed light on the happier things in my journey as a ... well, wherever i'd find myself at the moment, and that i wouldn't just be some bitter chica with a twisted blog name.
this has GOT to change. I used to be good times most of the time, (really! I'm talking DYNOMITE!) not "oh she has her moments" girl.
and i'll be john brown if I take a step back and see that girl again! I mean, I had a character named after me for crying in the mud! Happy Girl! My high school art teacher/friend even went to the lengths of making a calendar of Happy Girl. Me! twelve months of jamila!!! imagine! but life ain't like no post card (another way happy girl took form) and i never expected it to be, but this is ridiculous!
lately i've been thinking a lot about the person the 8 yr-old jamila thought she might grow to be. I we mostly thought about like the fleeting attractions and silly things in my life but most of my expectations seemed pretty solid. i thought i would be super cool, with no boy particular boy in sight just enjoying the view ( i've always liked boys) and a happy artist. now i'm an artist and misery has replaced my joy, i'm constantly worried about pleasing those around me and...it sucks. I never thought that I would be so...annoyed all the time or hate more things than I love. is it cuz i let myself down?? oh this age of never-ending questions...i'm slowly learning to appreciate it. but back to little mila.
i thought i would be the girl who let her "little light shine 'til Jesus come" yet i have forsaken her. sometimes, usually around my b-day i'm like "sorry kiddo, maybe this new year (my birthday having passed two weeks ago) I'll find brighter days or just be the bright bila you were thinking of". here's to a brighter bila (imaginary light raised to my younger self).
I think my gradual abandonment of my younger self is why I've held on to every age with a vise grip, cuz i know with growth come pain at least in my experience. with every age I've been a little more afraid of the next. but that little mila was fearless. maybe she and I should be homies again. maybe it will make me that bigger/badder woman I am slowly but surely becoming. that mila didn't care about her weight or what other kids said or how they were living. that mila was the business. Though she new hard times she didn't let it get her down.
i know it's strange to be talking to one's younger self and referring to befriending her...but this is how i roll sometimes :) so here's to another happy girl. cheers!
i'm sure the irony of the name of this blog has not escaped everyone. but clearly it never occurred to me until a couple of months ago. i kept hoping i would shed light on the happier things in my journey as a ... well, wherever i'd find myself at the moment, and that i wouldn't just be some bitter chica with a twisted blog name.
this has GOT to change. I used to be good times most of the time, (really! I'm talking DYNOMITE!) not "oh she has her moments" girl.
and i'll be john brown if I take a step back and see that girl again! I mean, I had a character named after me for crying in the mud! Happy Girl! My high school art teacher/friend even went to the lengths of making a calendar of Happy Girl. Me! twelve months of jamila!!! imagine! but life ain't like no post card (another way happy girl took form) and i never expected it to be, but this is ridiculous!
lately i've been thinking a lot about the person the 8 yr-old jamila thought she might grow to be. I we mostly thought about like the fleeting attractions and silly things in my life but most of my expectations seemed pretty solid. i thought i would be super cool, with no boy particular boy in sight just enjoying the view ( i've always liked boys) and a happy artist. now i'm an artist and misery has replaced my joy, i'm constantly worried about pleasing those around me and...it sucks. I never thought that I would be so...annoyed all the time or hate more things than I love. is it cuz i let myself down?? oh this age of never-ending questions...i'm slowly learning to appreciate it. but back to little mila.
i thought i would be the girl who let her "little light shine 'til Jesus come" yet i have forsaken her. sometimes, usually around my b-day i'm like "sorry kiddo, maybe this new year (my birthday having passed two weeks ago) I'll find brighter days or just be the bright bila you were thinking of". here's to a brighter bila (imaginary light raised to my younger self).
I think my gradual abandonment of my younger self is why I've held on to every age with a vise grip, cuz i know with growth come pain at least in my experience. with every age I've been a little more afraid of the next. but that little mila was fearless. maybe she and I should be homies again. maybe it will make me that bigger/badder woman I am slowly but surely becoming. that mila didn't care about her weight or what other kids said or how they were living. that mila was the business. Though she new hard times she didn't let it get her down.
i know it's strange to be talking to one's younger self and referring to befriending her...but this is how i roll sometimes :) so here's to another happy girl. cheers!
a couple of blessings and a few expletives
so i know everyday we're blessed beyond comprehension but today in particular two blessings stood out more than others. first, after class today i got a call from my aunt who wanted me to do something (an art piece) for the Christmas play among other things. for those not in the know, i don't have a job so I do odd jobs like cleaning and portraits or other artsy stuff for people...so, this is grand for me!
on my way to the car while still on the phone i remembered what hit me like a ton of bricks twenty minutes before class ended. i hadn't paid my meter since i left it 2.5 hrs earlier. i got to the car crossing the busy street safely and...NOTHING. i didn't get a ticket. and it was still there! i didn't know what to due with my thanks but thank the Lord many times over. I then called my mom cuz i didn't know what else to do i was sooo happy!!!! she said to just do what i had done and didn't know what else to say...two minutes later she received a call with a frantic child on the line...me of course.
I had forgotten my ipod in the art bldg and had to turn back and get it. then the swearing and crying and other hysterics began (hyperventilation styles). when i looked to make my U-ey there wasn't anything there but BAM!!! when i started to turn i got licked on the driver's side. totally my fault and the fact that i had definitely lost my ipod now, i began to swear, but not when i got hit. just when it hit me. strange huh?
anyway i said "sorry Jesus," and began crying, i think i immediately realized what i had done. I wasn't really apologizing for swearing i don't think but after being so happy i was tested. it was like. "if you asked me to take care of your car why didn't you trust me with the ipod". then i thought "hogwash!!!"..and then "or not???. ok, sorry again."
i went back and looked for my ipod. nothing. i must have looked a mess all red-faced and mumbling. i got back in the car and tried to breathe. i must have called my mom about ten times after everything happened. that time i called to tell her that it was gone and i could barely close my door due to my latest lesson learned. i still couldn't breathe and was now hyperventilating. i was so upset!!! then i asked for peace, just oxygen and peace. twenty seconds later i breathed sanely and somewhat normal, thinking "i just needed to ask. why didn't i ask..." then with the door open i screamed, and i'm not even sure if i asked nicely..."HELP ME FIND MY IPOD!"
the end of the story is i feel foolish and sad cuz when i opened my eyes i see that it had fallen between the console and the passenger seat. all i had to do was ask and my car would be fine and i wouldn't have to tell three different insurance guys my account of what happened. hopefully this it he last time i'll have to tell it! if anyone asks i'm jsut saying, "read my blog "or "i don't wanna talk about it"...at least for now.
garr and umm???... i'm still confused as to how to deal with all of this.
on my way to the car while still on the phone i remembered what hit me like a ton of bricks twenty minutes before class ended. i hadn't paid my meter since i left it 2.5 hrs earlier. i got to the car crossing the busy street safely and...NOTHING. i didn't get a ticket. and it was still there! i didn't know what to due with my thanks but thank the Lord many times over. I then called my mom cuz i didn't know what else to do i was sooo happy!!!! she said to just do what i had done and didn't know what else to say...two minutes later she received a call with a frantic child on the line...me of course.
I had forgotten my ipod in the art bldg and had to turn back and get it. then the swearing and crying and other hysterics began (hyperventilation styles). when i looked to make my U-ey there wasn't anything there but BAM!!! when i started to turn i got licked on the driver's side. totally my fault and the fact that i had definitely lost my ipod now, i began to swear, but not when i got hit. just when it hit me. strange huh?
anyway i said "sorry Jesus," and began crying, i think i immediately realized what i had done. I wasn't really apologizing for swearing i don't think but after being so happy i was tested. it was like. "if you asked me to take care of your car why didn't you trust me with the ipod". then i thought "hogwash!!!"..and then "or not???. ok, sorry again."
i went back and looked for my ipod. nothing. i must have looked a mess all red-faced and mumbling. i got back in the car and tried to breathe. i must have called my mom about ten times after everything happened. that time i called to tell her that it was gone and i could barely close my door due to my latest lesson learned. i still couldn't breathe and was now hyperventilating. i was so upset!!! then i asked for peace, just oxygen and peace. twenty seconds later i breathed sanely and somewhat normal, thinking "i just needed to ask. why didn't i ask..." then with the door open i screamed, and i'm not even sure if i asked nicely..."HELP ME FIND MY IPOD!"
the end of the story is i feel foolish and sad cuz when i opened my eyes i see that it had fallen between the console and the passenger seat. all i had to do was ask and my car would be fine and i wouldn't have to tell three different insurance guys my account of what happened. hopefully this it he last time i'll have to tell it! if anyone asks i'm jsut saying, "read my blog "or "i don't wanna talk about it"...at least for now.
garr and umm???... i'm still confused as to how to deal with all of this.
Sep 4, 2007
Devotion Dilemma
It seems that I should take these...daily jewels (My Utmost for His Highest Devotional)of info in small strides. I've been reading other devotions and stuff and trying to come to some new... who knows. Each day I hoped I would find a glimpse of God through these readings...I had a glimpse but not really experienced...I'm not sure what I've experienced at this pint I've just grown the more...confused and affraid I'll never really get it. I've had a hardened heart for a long time and even when I will myself and pray for a willing spirit or a new spirit or right spirit..i dont' really feel moved, just all the more confused.
Maybe I could do what Eri did a while ago and just stick with the same entry or whatever it's called until I'm comfortable enough to move on. Today's reading was like. what?! I just had to be honest with myself and admit that I'm like in grade 5 with Jesus. Today's reading took like 11th grade knowledge and spiritual maturity to process. I'm not nearly as far ahead in this as I would have hoped to be.
BLLLGH! that's it for my devotion delimma. From now own maybe I'll do things at my own pace and not feel the need to keep going whether or not I've fully grasped the each concept.
Maybe I could do what Eri did a while ago and just stick with the same entry or whatever it's called until I'm comfortable enough to move on. Today's reading was like. what?! I just had to be honest with myself and admit that I'm like in grade 5 with Jesus. Today's reading took like 11th grade knowledge and spiritual maturity to process. I'm not nearly as far ahead in this as I would have hoped to be.
BLLLGH! that's it for my devotion delimma. From now own maybe I'll do things at my own pace and not feel the need to keep going whether or not I've fully grasped the each concept.
Jul 23, 2007
The Qtr. Life Crisis: Garring Through the Motions
So I was thinking while wanting to scream off the roof tops of some random sketchy building that I would love to meet myself in 6 months to a year form now.
Will I have sorted out my problems? Harnessed my frustrations? Headed in the right direction or even a similar direction to what God actually has planned for me? Will I have heeded his call? GARR. That’s all I ever wanna do is garrr. All damn day. but it's useless. Will I have stopped by then? I just wanna see how everything is gonna be okay. People say it all the time. "Everything is gonna be okay", and I just wanna smack them. But if it is in fact true, I wanna see it... for myself...
Is it impatience??? No, I just want proof that everything will work out for me as it has for others. Not in the same way or even to the same extent. This girl got in to school here and moved there and is now hitched and BLAH!!!... whatever!!!. I don’t have to be like other. I just want to know where I’m going. And know that I'm comfortable with myself once I've arrived. GARRRR!
Will I have sorted out my problems? Harnessed my frustrations? Headed in the right direction or even a similar direction to what God actually has planned for me? Will I have heeded his call? GARR. That’s all I ever wanna do is garrr. All damn day. but it's useless. Will I have stopped by then? I just wanna see how everything is gonna be okay. People say it all the time. "Everything is gonna be okay", and I just wanna smack them. But if it is in fact true, I wanna see it... for myself...
Is it impatience??? No, I just want proof that everything will work out for me as it has for others. Not in the same way or even to the same extent. This girl got in to school here and moved there and is now hitched and BLAH!!!... whatever!!!. I don’t have to be like other. I just want to know where I’m going. And know that I'm comfortable with myself once I've arrived. GARRRR!
Another thing is people always say things will work out for those who love the Lord. Thing is I barely know him I read up on things he's done in the past but has very little relavance to our relationship. Well I guess I'm screwed for now cuz where no so chummy these days. I've tricked myself into thinking my relationsip is the best it has aever been but that still doesn't mean that it's good, right? Hmm.
This is my life everyday. I know it could be and may get worse some day but right now it’s driving me mad. The unknown and not knowing how to improve my situation.
Some say it lies in God's hands. Well if it's in His hands how do I find Him let alone his hands? I guess the point is not to find out what exactly it is and just allow him to work through me but how can I allow someone to work through me if I barely know them. How am I to trust someone to help me if … garrrr it all just really sucks right now and I’m losing myself to this shell of a ninny that just sighs and “garr”s all f-ing day! And the worse part is I don’t know where to start.
I guess I don’t' have to know where I'm going for sure but to at least be comfortable with the fact that it's not up to me would be fab! I'm just feeling like I’m gonna explode inside but the pieces don't know where to go. I don't even know if that makes sense. I guess that’s more like implosion, collapsing from within? or on itself? Even typing right now is a chore because translating my thoughts into language...into these letters before me seems... hell I dunno...and all I want to do is sleep. sleep. sleep. And then I actually wanna hear those empty words ..."it's gonna be okay" but not from people. If He said it maybe I could calm down some. I've only heard those words once. Things eventually were okay but never great again. I wanna hear...who knows what I need to hear but I wanna hear, "no worries, it'll all be grand!"
I get that this is all probably necessary for growth but I just want it to be over already.
Jun 21, 2007
I had a dream of appreciation once and it went like so...
These are bits a pieces of a dream about a platonic love expressed in a conversation between two friends....
1. I wish everyone could have someone like you.
Not to own or to lend as they choose or anything ...but everyone needs one of you.
Now that I've got one, I've realized that people need "You".
A place where one can fall into the tiniest pieces
And the other can help at least mend the edges.
2. Sometimes the words you speak may be few,
But however long they are profound, sincere, and true.
And with that I realize that I've always seen God in you.
My initial experiences told me so and in away I feel as though
He sought me out through you.
3. Your way of loving me is like that healing software for the crashing system.
Your "I Love You"s are wrapped in a tickle of the throat, the wrinkle in your smile
Or where the crows' feet meet your eyes.
4. I love how you translate, so simply put
Spoken with fluency much like your world of art.
5. We'll never hurt each other because we'll never quite really know each other.
This is all so child-like. So valuable. So awesome.
6. I've learned to love in the least selfish way I've ever known.
Again, I see God in you, the heft of simple/random questions
The way you answer questions with questions.
7. Thank you for never making me wish I was someone else. Or making me feel as if you wished you were with someone else.
8. Though our paths aren't as familiar as they once were
I still feel comfortable with conveying how I see things...for whatever it's worth.
Jun 20, 2007
daaang
WARNING: These thoughts may be somewhat disconnected and I shall try and end it before this becomes the spills of a Bumbling Bila.
This whole thing is in response to Sr. Thought Provoker's Blog...
Shit guy! You put it down! I too have let my mind go wild wondering such things...not as eloquently but pondered nonetheless. So many things having been addressed but I'll just give what I've got.
I have found that, in the practice of telling the truth, the problem seems to lie within the fact that we have not yet bought into (the lie for many) "the truth will set you free". It's often taxing. The maintenance required is almost equal to the lie we tell to avoid it..no?
Being truthful to those we could care less about is easier cuz we don't give 2 craps about it's repercussions...where it may lead...for example hurting strangers' feelings or someone we barely know isn't beneath most because we don't have to deal with their pain and could care less about how they view you as a result.
The case with those closest to us is that we often avoid truth in hopes to preserve something...whether it be and image of ourselves or or a "comfort level" acquired. I almost wanna say it's pure laziness but... no, I guess it is just that fear that we may not be able to keep up the charade that "all will be fine" if we do in fact deal with the truth on a regular basis. will it set us free? Dunno for sure but it's a hell of a lot of work. and that we already know. Thus, we keep telling the little lies that we think'll lead us in a preferred yet unknown direction.
As far as baring it all, truth styles...dunno... The heart of truth as we know is so brutal. Maybe there's no need to ALWAYS let it be known... God could never reveal all of himself to us because it's beyond our understanding and I don't think we can ever truly reveal ourselves to anyone but Him because we don't really understand our own humanity, nor can we always accept it.
DAMN!!! Truth is brutal cuz it causes us to see how gross we really are. So where are we now, truth leads to enlightenment? What happens once we find it? What if we can't handle it? AHHHHH!
If God is truth, does that mean that he's brutal to? I guess. Right? It's just one of his traits. As I've poured out some stuff and spilled others I feel as though they've become more loosely connected/disconnected whatever... thoughts after this will become intolerable so I'm out...still wondering.
This whole thing is in response to Sr. Thought Provoker's Blog...
Shit guy! You put it down! I too have let my mind go wild wondering such things...not as eloquently but pondered nonetheless. So many things having been addressed but I'll just give what I've got.
I have found that, in the practice of telling the truth, the problem seems to lie within the fact that we have not yet bought into (the lie for many) "the truth will set you free". It's often taxing. The maintenance required is almost equal to the lie we tell to avoid it..no?
Being truthful to those we could care less about is easier cuz we don't give 2 craps about it's repercussions...where it may lead...for example hurting strangers' feelings or someone we barely know isn't beneath most because we don't have to deal with their pain and could care less about how they view you as a result.
The case with those closest to us is that we often avoid truth in hopes to preserve something...whether it be and image of ourselves or or a "comfort level" acquired. I almost wanna say it's pure laziness but... no, I guess it is just that fear that we may not be able to keep up the charade that "all will be fine" if we do in fact deal with the truth on a regular basis. will it set us free? Dunno for sure but it's a hell of a lot of work. and that we already know. Thus, we keep telling the little lies that we think'll lead us in a preferred yet unknown direction.
As far as baring it all, truth styles...dunno... The heart of truth as we know is so brutal. Maybe there's no need to ALWAYS let it be known... God could never reveal all of himself to us because it's beyond our understanding and I don't think we can ever truly reveal ourselves to anyone but Him because we don't really understand our own humanity, nor can we always accept it.
DAMN!!! Truth is brutal cuz it causes us to see how gross we really are. So where are we now, truth leads to enlightenment? What happens once we find it? What if we can't handle it? AHHHHH!
If God is truth, does that mean that he's brutal to? I guess. Right? It's just one of his traits. As I've poured out some stuff and spilled others I feel as though they've become more loosely connected/disconnected whatever... thoughts after this will become intolerable so I'm out...still wondering.
Jun 14, 2007
Strange Beginnings
While late, as usual, to another day at The Office I was surprised yet somewhat relieved at how flipping cold it was in the middle of June. My car's thermostat read 61or 64 degrees F. I thought nothing of it as I walked to the Metro Station until I was running up the escalator. Once having reached I immediately realized it was going to be a long and cold/windy walk to my designated metro port. (I enter the cars at a certain point everyday to cut back on queues and the amount of pits I have to smell on my way to switch Metro lines. The regular Metro-ees should understand my plight.)
After finally reaching my spot, I bravely took a stab at the thought of standing in one of (what i call) those containment stations. You know the double-ended plexi-glass box that doesn't quite reach the ground? They're kinda funky sometimes but they do a good job of blocking the high winds that flow through the platform or as I often refer to it as the "vent".
So as I get about a foot into the box I notice this lady(about 25+) sitting and BALLING her eyes out on the phone! I slowing stepped back hearing "NO! I'm already at the metro!" and simply leaned on the outside of the box. Remember, my only purpose was to not freeze on the platform. I had to keep warm. I stood there about a foot away from the entrance and thought "DAMN, that must suck what ever it is...i wonder...no. It must be about work she's dressed real nice... maybe an interview??? That sucks she's late!...maybe???" The train was 5 minutes away.
I didn't know it at the time but I was no longer cold and was only preocuppied with the little yelps/sighs coming from theh box. Other people cared less than I about going in or bothering her. She was clearly growing more uncomfortable and feeling foolish for BALLING in public as they piled in. When the train was about a minute away people started to leave and I thought, "OK I'm gonna do it! I'm gonna hug this stranger...if she let's me".
Everyone, save one little lady, having emptied out, I approached her with an uncomfortable feeling (Ricky Bobby talking in the camera for the first time), I crouched down and asked her in a almost a whisper, "Do you want a hug?". She said in between light sobs, "It's so stupid I'm just late for a really important job," and only whimpered a little. I said, "OK" and hugged her anyway. She began to stand as I did so. It was an awkward hug only because she was half standing like "feeling the burn" in some sort of squat. The Hug continued for about 15-30 seconds and then she stood. She followed me to the port and ended up sitting next across from me toward the back of the train. Though she was still Ruby Red, she had obviously calmed down a bit.
I prayed for her through my strange ride. I was reading 2 Kings where some guy name "J" something succeeds another king after killing him and the king's son and later the kings mom, Jezebel. Between processing the hug and one of the "R" rated chapters in the Bible(it was a bit graphic talking about how the men threw her over the wall and how her blood splattered on it as she fell). I was like huh? It was a very strange start to the day.
The lady got up to leave at my stop and said as cheerful as possible, "Thanks alot", and smiled. I allowed her to go well ahead of me in order to minimize the ...dunno sheepish/awkwardness between us now. Once the doors opened, she was off! She scurried to be first in the line to go down stairs to the Blue/Orange line. That was the last I saw of her. I joined the queue to go downstairs quite a while after her, no longer caring that I was late or people's frowzy pits, barely phased that some heifer had just hit me in the boob pretty hard or that some dude had just stepped on my poor foot. Though my face probably conveyed otherwise I was content.
It was indeed a strange beginning ...
After finally reaching my spot, I bravely took a stab at the thought of standing in one of (what i call) those containment stations. You know the double-ended plexi-glass box that doesn't quite reach the ground? They're kinda funky sometimes but they do a good job of blocking the high winds that flow through the platform or as I often refer to it as the "vent".
So as I get about a foot into the box I notice this lady(about 25+) sitting and BALLING her eyes out on the phone! I slowing stepped back hearing "NO! I'm already at the metro!" and simply leaned on the outside of the box. Remember, my only purpose was to not freeze on the platform. I had to keep warm. I stood there about a foot away from the entrance and thought "DAMN, that must suck what ever it is...i wonder...no. It must be about work she's dressed real nice... maybe an interview??? That sucks she's late!...maybe???" The train was 5 minutes away.
I didn't know it at the time but I was no longer cold and was only preocuppied with the little yelps/sighs coming from theh box. Other people cared less than I about going in or bothering her. She was clearly growing more uncomfortable and feeling foolish for BALLING in public as they piled in. When the train was about a minute away people started to leave and I thought, "OK I'm gonna do it! I'm gonna hug this stranger...if she let's me".
Everyone, save one little lady, having emptied out, I approached her with an uncomfortable feeling (Ricky Bobby talking in the camera for the first time), I crouched down and asked her in a almost a whisper, "Do you want a hug?". She said in between light sobs, "It's so stupid I'm just late for a really important job," and only whimpered a little. I said, "OK" and hugged her anyway. She began to stand as I did so. It was an awkward hug only because she was half standing like "feeling the burn" in some sort of squat. The Hug continued for about 15-30 seconds and then she stood. She followed me to the port and ended up sitting next across from me toward the back of the train. Though she was still Ruby Red, she had obviously calmed down a bit.
I prayed for her through my strange ride. I was reading 2 Kings where some guy name "J" something succeeds another king after killing him and the king's son and later the kings mom, Jezebel. Between processing the hug and one of the "R" rated chapters in the Bible(it was a bit graphic talking about how the men threw her over the wall and how her blood splattered on it as she fell). I was like huh? It was a very strange start to the day.
The lady got up to leave at my stop and said as cheerful as possible, "Thanks alot", and smiled. I allowed her to go well ahead of me in order to minimize the ...dunno sheepish/awkwardness between us now. Once the doors opened, she was off! She scurried to be first in the line to go down stairs to the Blue/Orange line. That was the last I saw of her. I joined the queue to go downstairs quite a while after her, no longer caring that I was late or people's frowzy pits, barely phased that some heifer had just hit me in the boob pretty hard or that some dude had just stepped on my poor foot. Though my face probably conveyed otherwise I was content.
It was indeed a strange beginning ...
Apr 26, 2007
Innovative vs. Ghetto ... or Just Plain Tacky
While chatting it up with a couple of homies on the way from work, one of them said that something was "so ghetto"( a girl slapping a bumper sticker on her car that read miss tig ol' bitties 2006). I quickly chimed in, as I often do to save "ghetto", and suggested she use the word "tacky" or"innovative" in it's place from now on. Tacky was the obvious substitution for ghetto in this scenario. I pointed out the extreme improper and over use of "ghetto" and continued to give examples to help her through this concept. While many situations are often ghetto not all apply.
I will now give you some examples to help you through this very difficult transition. But first it might be best for you to know what the terms actually mean. (definitions are according to my understanding of what Webster's has taught me through the years)
Ghetto is an adjective used to describe a certain attire, way of speech or lifestyle that originates in a low-income environment.
A. If you meet your significant other's mother and she comes out of the house in curlers, a head-scarf, flop flips and wielding a ciggy...that is G to the Hetto (extremely ghetto) and also a scene from some childhood cartoon and/or In Living Color.
Innovative is a crafting/creative or alternative manner of approach.
B. Scratching off the chipped portions of your glasses in order to save the integrity of your eye wear of choice is not ghetto. Alas, it is innovative and simply cost effective, especially when the turn out to be whole new pair of glasses).
Tacky seems to come from the word "tactless" meaning but on a more crude level. rather than inconsiderate it is more... uncouth or classless way going about or doing things.
C. That girl slapping a window decal on her rear windshield that reads "Miss Tig Ol' Bitties 2006" adorned with a rose for elegance.... is TACKY!
Now I will test your knowledge by giving you a the following sentence .
D. "While conversating (NOT A WORD) with a colleague it was intimated that she disliked me irregardless (NOT A WORD) of the fact that I said she had Tig Ol' Bitties."
This is neither an example of "being ghetto" or "innovative". This an example of a double whammy! This is someone being "sadiddy" (someone self-important and seemingly educated and uppity) and "tacky". In the end they just sound stupid.
I hope this tutorial has helped sharpen your verbal skills on such matters and allow you to leave dat ghetto s@&# at home!
I will now give you some examples to help you through this very difficult transition. But first it might be best for you to know what the terms actually mean. (definitions are according to my understanding of what Webster's has taught me through the years)
Ghetto is an adjective used to describe a certain attire, way of speech or lifestyle that originates in a low-income environment.
A. If you meet your significant other's mother and she comes out of the house in curlers, a head-scarf, flop flips and wielding a ciggy...that is G to the Hetto (extremely ghetto) and also a scene from some childhood cartoon and/or In Living Color.
Innovative is a crafting/creative or alternative manner of approach.
B. Scratching off the chipped portions of your glasses in order to save the integrity of your eye wear of choice is not ghetto. Alas, it is innovative and simply cost effective, especially when the turn out to be whole new pair of glasses).
Tacky seems to come from the word "tactless" meaning but on a more crude level. rather than inconsiderate it is more... uncouth or classless way going about or doing things.
C. That girl slapping a window decal on her rear windshield that reads "Miss Tig Ol' Bitties 2006" adorned with a rose for elegance.... is TACKY!
Now I will test your knowledge by giving you a the following sentence .
D. "While conversating (NOT A WORD) with a colleague it was intimated that she disliked me irregardless (NOT A WORD) of the fact that I said she had Tig Ol' Bitties."
This is neither an example of "being ghetto" or "innovative". This an example of a double whammy! This is someone being "sadiddy" (someone self-important and seemingly educated and uppity) and "tacky". In the end they just sound stupid.
I hope this tutorial has helped sharpen your verbal skills on such matters and allow you to leave dat ghetto s@&# at home!
Mar 14, 2007
Hooked on Looks
While waiting in line for my order at Potbelly the other day I noticed an incredibly and ridiculously good looking man come in. I'm talkin' hottie in the body, pretty in the face, care for the hair good-looking dude. Seriously Dude had a square jaw, perfect lips, super naturally tannish skin, broad-ass grown man shoulders, wrapped in a Navy Peacoat with the collar popped.
Being the chic that I am, I attempted to bring my vision of beauty to the attention of my gal co-workers. They never saw him due the slue of dudes that walked in after him, all of which had their collars popped/high as well (it was butt cold). While having to describe him and hoping he would just turn around so all could get a glimpse, I realized he was a cocky bastards. And when I initially saw him I remember the urge to just punch him in the face.
As all of this was coming back to me I began to think about something my girl Jael use to say, "The prettier you are the less you should talk," or something to that affect. I found I hadn't even heard him speak but I agreed and in some way disgusted. The disgust, I realized, came not from his looks but the look. It was his attitude. He new he looked good. The look wasn't the " I look hot TODAY" look(cuz we all get it) but, it was the "I'm so damn fine and don't even think I would look in your direction" look. It was then I decided to co-found an agency called Hooked on looks. Inspired by the Dude and Buster (the hooked special brother from the FOX TV series Arrested Development)
I thought of a program that would cause the two to merge. What if Dude had a hook. Dude wouldn't be so bad ass with a hook would he?? This brings my bahoogawolf theory into play. The bahoogawolf theory is pretty simple like most of my foolish theories. If someone is deformed or disfigured in anyway they can't be mean or rude almost ever, because it always comes back to the deformity. For example a one armed man cuts you off in traffic? Your reaction will almost always and instantly go to you one armed.. something. So how does Du-ster fit into this? The marriage of Jael and my theories will cause him to have to be even more careful of what he has to say. Yeah he'll be hot but...
Some caring /loving friend enters him into the program(rehab) where he'll have one of these deformities for a week,having to wear a hook or a contact that makes them look cock-eyed, a flipped foot - something out of the ordinary. After a week maybe he will have encounter a woman that says something like. "No I ain't talkin' to you Hook." Or If he tries to talk to a gal who sees through his smug appeal she'll respond.. "I'm sorry where you talking to me"( if cock-eyed).
He comes back a week or more later realizing he ain't so tough and his stench may not be so sweet after all. Maybe he continues to be an ass or being the wielder of the look, but not even Weight Watchers has all 100% success rate.
While waiting in line for my order at Potbelly the other day I noticed an incredibly and ridiculously good looking man come in. I'm talkin' hottie in the body, pretty in the face, care for the hair good-looking dude. Seriously Dude had a square jaw, perfect lips, super naturally tannish skin, broad-ass grown man shoulders, wrapped in a Navy Peacoat with the collar popped.
Being the chic that I am, I attempted to bring my vision of beauty to the attention of my gal co-workers. They never saw him due the slue of dudes that walked in after him, all of which had their collars popped/high as well (it was butt cold). While having to describe him and hoping he would just turn around so all could get a glimpse, I realized he was a cocky bastards. And when I initially saw him I remember the urge to just punch him in the face.
As all of this was coming back to me I began to think about something my girl Jael use to say, "The prettier you are the less you should talk," or something to that affect. I found I hadn't even heard him speak but I agreed and in some way disgusted. The disgust, I realized, came not from his looks but the look. It was his attitude. He new he looked good. The look wasn't the " I look hot TODAY" look(cuz we all get it) but, it was the "I'm so damn fine and don't even think I would look in your direction" look. It was then I decided to co-found an agency called Hooked on looks. Inspired by the Dude and Buster (the hooked special brother from the FOX TV series Arrested Development)
I thought of a program that would cause the two to merge. What if Dude had a hook. Dude wouldn't be so bad ass with a hook would he?? This brings my bahoogawolf theory into play. The bahoogawolf theory is pretty simple like most of my foolish theories. If someone is deformed or disfigured in anyway they can't be mean or rude almost ever, because it always comes back to the deformity. For example a one armed man cuts you off in traffic? Your reaction will almost always and instantly go to you one armed.. something. So how does Du-ster fit into this? The marriage of Jael and my theories will cause him to have to be even more careful of what he has to say. Yeah he'll be hot but...
Some caring /loving friend enters him into the program(rehab) where he'll have one of these deformities for a week,having to wear a hook or a contact that makes them look cock-eyed, a flipped foot - something out of the ordinary. After a week maybe he will have encounter a woman that says something like. "No I ain't talkin' to you Hook." Or If he tries to talk to a gal who sees through his smug appeal she'll respond.. "I'm sorry where you talking to me"( if cock-eyed).
He comes back a week or more later realizing he ain't so tough and his stench may not be so sweet after all. Maybe he continues to be an ass or being the wielder of the look, but not even Weight Watchers has all 100% success rate.
Mar 7, 2007
Where Have All The Pirates Gone?
Why aren't there modern day pirates? with patches or wood on their eyelids?
There are thieves of the seas that dress fashionably foul
That swear profusely while swallowing vowels.
Yet we no longer call them pirates.
These are drunkards with "peg legs" and bearded men with hooks who swash buckle and wager booties through one-eyed looks.
They still anchor with harlots with buttery teeth and battle with swords that remain unsheathed.
Seizing barco and cargo and all things with value, controlling and roaming like nations at war do.
These scallywags, these hustlers of the seven seas have been robbed, stripped, and demoted to simple bandits and thieves.
Though still "argging" and "garring" and bad to the bone, I guess such terms will die beneath the seas foam.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
<>
<>
Pirates.
<>
<>
Swashbucklers.
<>
<>
<>
plundering fools.
There are thieves of the seas that dress fashionably foul
That swear profusely while swallowing vowels.
Yet we no longer call them pirates.
These are drunkards with "peg legs" and bearded men with hooks who swash buckle and wager booties through one-eyed looks.
They still anchor with harlots with buttery teeth and battle with swords that remain unsheathed.
Seizing barco and cargo and all things with value, controlling and roaming like nations at war do.
These scallywags, these hustlers of the seven seas have been robbed, stripped, and demoted to simple bandits and thieves.
Though still "argging" and "garring" and bad to the bone, I guess such terms will die beneath the seas foam.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
<>
<>
Pirates.
<>
<>
Swashbucklers.
<>
<>
<>
plundering fools.
Feb 27, 2007
A Tired of Being Black - History Moment
How did you spend your Black History Month? Was it acknowledged at your work place?
...by someone other than a black person. hmmmm. I celebrated by giving the predominately white staff a "Little Known Black History Facts" quiz as an icebreaker, to our "After Valentine's Day" Team Meeting. It was well-received. I asked basic questions about well-known black history figures and every-day gadgets that originated from the inventions of black history icons.
I've found that after school Black History Month kinda seems to disappears. I'm not sure if that's because I have left the securities of a diverse environment or just because ...hell who knows. After passing out the quiz I realized that had I not chosen that as' my icebreaker this month would have never been acknowledge. A co-worker actually said. "oh was that this month. As usual I just laughed because that was a true representation of how most treat it. I'm not sure if that's what Carter G. Woodson had in mind when he got the whole thing started.
I also find it funny that now I've somehow seemed to grasped the importance of Black History Month I've come to the realization that I'm sick of being black..... and being treated black. I know I could lose my membership card for this one but I really get sick of it. This is not to say I'm gonna pull a chalky Thriller move like SenorJackson but the way people come to me for the black opinion/perspective has exhausted me to the boarder of insanity. I just want to scream sometimes...in the middle of lunch or the office or the train. grrrrrr. I was not put on this earth to be the resident Obama for every poorly mixed gathering.
I hate reading into things or trying to figure out what people mean when they say things like "Your surprisingly articulate". or "do you and your brother have the same father". I also kind of feel like somewhat of a sellout when I say " No, I am Jamaican" when telling someone that I'm not eating collard greens. I just don't' really know how to feel. I guess I can pin-point frustration.
I think I love inappropriate and playful racial banter so much because I am uncomfortable with the issue of race itself. I think it's also the stereotypes and such. It's sad how the white middle-class psych student from Wisconsin is looked at strange for listening to Mos Def or the black intern from Atlanta loving Regina Spektor.
It makes me sad when I listen to how friends talk about white people period and when one amongst us is dating or is married to a white person...even worse for them. It just sucks, amongst my Spainish friends who talk bad about "los freaking Moros" not knowing that we're sitting with lebonese/spanish or arabic/spanish mixes, white people talking about hispanics not knowing my aunt and best friends are hispanics. We all do it. Yes stereotypes exist but it's our responsibilty as so-called people educated in life or the world to look past it. but just how i'm not really interested in polotics I guess a crap-load of folks aren't too interested in learning other people yet still claim the term...cultured.
I'm tired of the word black.. I am reminded of the track at the end of the foundation album by brand nubians were the guy is like " I hate black coffee... I hate the black keys on a piano... and most of all I hate that black ass Welsley Snipes"...okay so maybe i won't ever have a "black out" but I am weary nonetheless.
In my singing group our manager was telling us to think of reasons why we wanted to go to heaven. It would be the fuel for a particular song we sing, "Canon Land". Tired of being black is something I'm definitely going to put on my list. I just wanna be more proud of who and whom I belong rather than what I am. I just wanna go home...
...by someone other than a black person. hmmmm. I celebrated by giving the predominately white staff a "Little Known Black History Facts" quiz as an icebreaker, to our "After Valentine's Day" Team Meeting. It was well-received. I asked basic questions about well-known black history figures and every-day gadgets that originated from the inventions of black history icons.
I've found that after school Black History Month kinda seems to disappears. I'm not sure if that's because I have left the securities of a diverse environment or just because ...hell who knows. After passing out the quiz I realized that had I not chosen that as' my icebreaker this month would have never been acknowledge. A co-worker actually said. "oh was that this month. As usual I just laughed because that was a true representation of how most treat it. I'm not sure if that's what Carter G. Woodson had in mind when he got the whole thing started.
I also find it funny that now I've somehow seemed to grasped the importance of Black History Month I've come to the realization that I'm sick of being black..... and being treated black. I know I could lose my membership card for this one but I really get sick of it. This is not to say I'm gonna pull a chalky Thriller move like SenorJackson but the way people come to me for the black opinion/perspective has exhausted me to the boarder of insanity. I just want to scream sometimes...in the middle of lunch or the office or the train. grrrrrr. I was not put on this earth to be the resident Obama for every poorly mixed gathering.
I hate reading into things or trying to figure out what people mean when they say things like "Your surprisingly articulate". or "do you and your brother have the same father". I also kind of feel like somewhat of a sellout when I say " No, I am Jamaican" when telling someone that I'm not eating collard greens. I just don't' really know how to feel. I guess I can pin-point frustration.
I think I love inappropriate and playful racial banter so much because I am uncomfortable with the issue of race itself. I think it's also the stereotypes and such. It's sad how the white middle-class psych student from Wisconsin is looked at strange for listening to Mos Def or the black intern from Atlanta loving Regina Spektor.
It makes me sad when I listen to how friends talk about white people period and when one amongst us is dating or is married to a white person...even worse for them. It just sucks, amongst my Spainish friends who talk bad about "los freaking Moros" not knowing that we're sitting with lebonese/spanish or arabic/spanish mixes, white people talking about hispanics not knowing my aunt and best friends are hispanics. We all do it. Yes stereotypes exist but it's our responsibilty as so-called people educated in life or the world to look past it. but just how i'm not really interested in polotics I guess a crap-load of folks aren't too interested in learning other people yet still claim the term...cultured.
I'm tired of the word black.. I am reminded of the track at the end of the foundation album by brand nubians were the guy is like " I hate black coffee... I hate the black keys on a piano... and most of all I hate that black ass Welsley Snipes"...okay so maybe i won't ever have a "black out" but I am weary nonetheless.
In my singing group our manager was telling us to think of reasons why we wanted to go to heaven. It would be the fuel for a particular song we sing, "Canon Land". Tired of being black is something I'm definitely going to put on my list. I just wanna be more proud of who and whom I belong rather than what I am. I just wanna go home...
Feb 8, 2007
dot. dot. dot.
Upon finishing my last blog I found out that the last few minutes of the meeting that I missed this morning was capped-off by my boss-lady saying, "I just wanted you guys to know that I really appreciate you and really love working with you...."
That only leaves me with the questions. Do You think IHOP is hiring? Can you think of a place that needs some more disgruntled workers? The government perhaps?
Damn
That only leaves me with the questions. Do You think IHOP is hiring? Can you think of a place that needs some more disgruntled workers? The government perhaps?
Damn
I Love My Job But...
Disclaimer: (This will be a long one because I've got about a week's worth of stuff for this submission...and I'm long-winded)
... apparently not for long. I got to thinking today that my workplace is anything but typical. From day to day we are wildly inappropriate in meetings, lunches, and water cooler(my corner cube) gatherings testing racial, religious, and other personal boundaries . As previously mentioned, I love my job but not for long. And today after a team meeting I got to thinking of the many reasons why.
Today in a staff meeting our boss was divulging some information that led towards,"get out while you can this ship is going down." She did of course do so in a much more subtle manner of passing out photo-copied newspaper clippings from the JOBS section of The Washington Post. The article was called Making the Right Moves. She went on to explain how she clipped out the article for herself but later thought, "you know my staff could benefit from this!" So there you go. "There she blows!!!" We're going down down do do do do do do....going down swinging" etc.
As she continued to talk about how it gave tips on how to make a great cover letter, the team continued to laugh about our now sooner approaching but planned departures.
We thought it might be a good idea to have a workshop or collectively participation in updating our colleagues' resumes and formatting cover letters. The funny things is that I'm sure some of us were seriously thinking (myself included), " Yeah, that would be great, get a couple laptops, have designated writers, have stuffers, we can work it like an assembly line...or a business on the side.. we could use some extra cash."
So, aside from the eminent demise of our organization. Today was rather a good day. And it made me think...I don't write nearly enough about the good things in my life anymore, so here are a couple more.
Couscous
Couscous is the name of my co-worker's soon-to-be-delivered child who got the name from the fact that he was only the size of a rice grain when his mother found out she was pregnant.
What's so awesome about my co-workers?? This same co-worker(Preggers) had her third baby shower today... at work. Because everyone either loves babies/pregnant moms or just feels uncomfortable and is there for the food and laughs. Baby showers at work are awesome! Chocolate Lover(she loves Negros) put it togehter and it went off without a hitch! Inappropriate comments were made in front of senior partners... repeatedly.... and everyone was okay with it. Oh the veil of the pregnant lady! Everything is OK under the safety-net which is a work-baby shower!!!!. We spoke of how one of our Buster-like charachter(resident funny guy) was the possible "baby-daddy" and everyone was okay with that. No " this is a no-tolerance establishment! There can be no fraternizing of employees, blah blah blah," just great. I wish everyone's jobs where that way.
I think comparing an inappropriate work relationship between employees to Grey's Anatomy is how all sexual harassment trainings should be started. We need more late night TV in our workplace and manditory seminars. The Director lady of the Legal Services, D.C. Employment Justice Center came by our staff meeting and told us about what is and isn't appropriate in the work place. She would trow in funny little diddies about inappropriate behavior that was meaningless (much like the our daily banter int he office) and highly offensive and just plain stupid shit people do. She used words like Quid Pro Quo and dummied stuff down for us. I appreciated how we made it clear that it's only sexual harassment if it's unwelcomed, which made most of us feel better, and I like how she lied to us and told us that it was made up by lawyer to sound good even thought I was pretty sure I knew these people called the Romans devised a quite complex language called Latin and that unless they were all lawyers too... it wasn't true. But I stayed up for most of the presentations and kept jokes to a minimum she captured our attention with terms like hypos for hypothetical situations and the slides transitions were AWESOME. I just appreciate the little things here at my organization and will really miss the sensation of knowing in how many ways I've daily offended other and crossed personal boundaries.
... apparently not for long. I got to thinking today that my workplace is anything but typical. From day to day we are wildly inappropriate in meetings, lunches, and water cooler(my corner cube) gatherings testing racial, religious, and other personal boundaries . As previously mentioned, I love my job but not for long. And today after a team meeting I got to thinking of the many reasons why.
Today in a staff meeting our boss was divulging some information that led towards,"get out while you can this ship is going down." She did of course do so in a much more subtle manner of passing out photo-copied newspaper clippings from the JOBS section of The Washington Post. The article was called Making the Right Moves. She went on to explain how she clipped out the article for herself but later thought, "you know my staff could benefit from this!" So there you go. "There she blows!!!" We're going down down do do do do do do....going down swinging" etc.
As she continued to talk about how it gave tips on how to make a great cover letter, the team continued to laugh about our now sooner approaching but planned departures.
We thought it might be a good idea to have a workshop or collectively participation in updating our colleagues' resumes and formatting cover letters. The funny things is that I'm sure some of us were seriously thinking (myself included), " Yeah, that would be great, get a couple laptops, have designated writers, have stuffers, we can work it like an assembly line...or a business on the side.. we could use some extra cash."
So, aside from the eminent demise of our organization. Today was rather a good day. And it made me think...I don't write nearly enough about the good things in my life anymore, so here are a couple more.
Couscous
Couscous is the name of my co-worker's soon-to-be-delivered child who got the name from the fact that he was only the size of a rice grain when his mother found out she was pregnant.
What's so awesome about my co-workers?? This same co-worker(Preggers) had her third baby shower today... at work. Because everyone either loves babies/pregnant moms or just feels uncomfortable and is there for the food and laughs. Baby showers at work are awesome! Chocolate Lover(she loves Negros) put it togehter and it went off without a hitch! Inappropriate comments were made in front of senior partners... repeatedly.... and everyone was okay with it. Oh the veil of the pregnant lady! Everything is OK under the safety-net which is a work-baby shower!!!!. We spoke of how one of our Buster-like charachter(resident funny guy) was the possible "baby-daddy" and everyone was okay with that. No " this is a no-tolerance establishment! There can be no fraternizing of employees, blah blah blah," just great. I wish everyone's jobs where that way.
I think Resident Funny Guy, Chocolate-Lover, and I are really gonna cry when Preggers goes into labor, for it will be the beginning of a long sabatical and things just seem so much funnier when people are pregnant.
Manditory Harassment TrainingI think comparing an inappropriate work relationship between employees to Grey's Anatomy is how all sexual harassment trainings should be started. We need more late night TV in our workplace and manditory seminars. The Director lady of the Legal Services, D.C. Employment Justice Center came by our staff meeting and told us about what is and isn't appropriate in the work place. She would trow in funny little diddies about inappropriate behavior that was meaningless (much like the our daily banter int he office) and highly offensive and just plain stupid shit people do. She used words like Quid Pro Quo and dummied stuff down for us. I appreciated how we made it clear that it's only sexual harassment if it's unwelcomed, which made most of us feel better, and I like how she lied to us and told us that it was made up by lawyer to sound good even thought I was pretty sure I knew these people called the Romans devised a quite complex language called Latin and that unless they were all lawyers too... it wasn't true. But I stayed up for most of the presentations and kept jokes to a minimum she captured our attention with terms like hypos for hypothetical situations and the slides transitions were AWESOME. I just appreciate the little things here at my organization and will really miss the sensation of knowing in how many ways I've daily offended other and crossed personal boundaries.
Jan 22, 2007
Super 'V'
So my blog has taken a spin. Now it's just about whatever the hell happens in, The Life and Times of Another "Happy Girl".
So today my friend informed me that the topic for this week on illustrationfriday.com was "super hero". She was reminded of a character I drew orginating from the likes of one of our co-workers/homies.
Our homie went to the Miss Adam's Morgan Pageant last year where she had to be in costume. She geniusly devised the identity as one "Super V". Needless to say it was hilarious due to the fact that super "V" stood for the all powerful forces of the V. jj. It was even funnier because she was in a room filled with men in drag and few of them were interested in it's mesmorizing capabilites.
When we were all around the table we decided it must live on and professed that her slogan would first be "Just Do It", but Nike had that one. We then decided that her mission would be to rid the world of a life less indulgent. She would be the anwser to the abstinence campaigns. We soon ended up with "Don't wait, penetrate" and found ourselves laughing at our vulgarity. In the end we said screw Nike and took "Just Do It" back.
When my co-worker/homie told me this I immediately invisioned a play on Wonder Womans' suite. And I went to work. "Super V" was reborn with a "V" on her crown instead of a star and other "V"s throughout the suit.
Her powers/weapons I'm sure were obvious. Thus, I simply surrounded her in a trembling aura.
So today my friend informed me that the topic for this week on illustrationfriday.com was "super hero". She was reminded of a character I drew orginating from the likes of one of our co-workers/homies.
Our homie went to the Miss Adam's Morgan Pageant last year where she had to be in costume. She geniusly devised the identity as one "Super V". Needless to say it was hilarious due to the fact that super "V" stood for the all powerful forces of the V. jj. It was even funnier because she was in a room filled with men in drag and few of them were interested in it's mesmorizing capabilites.
When we were all around the table we decided it must live on and professed that her slogan would first be "Just Do It", but Nike had that one. We then decided that her mission would be to rid the world of a life less indulgent. She would be the anwser to the abstinence campaigns. We soon ended up with "Don't wait, penetrate" and found ourselves laughing at our vulgarity. In the end we said screw Nike and took "Just Do It" back.
When my co-worker/homie told me this I immediately invisioned a play on Wonder Womans' suite. And I went to work. "Super V" was reborn with a "V" on her crown instead of a star and other "V"s throughout the suit.
Her powers/weapons I'm sure were obvious. Thus, I simply surrounded her in a trembling aura.
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