Thanks Nike

I just woke, up, my hair is a mess, and I'm sure my breath isn't the best. Spongebob is on the tv, but I'm really not watching. I'm thinking about the long day I have a head of me. There are so many things I need to do, but I dont know where to begin. Let's see. . .
Cleaning up
Working out
Studying
Doing a chapter or so of F. F.

This is the perfect day for this sort of work too. . .I have no class, no appointments, no dates, or anything else pressing to contend with. So, what's my biggest opposition today?

Me, that's who.

This may seem weird, but I feel like there is something in me that is preventing me from getting anything productive done. Almost as if there's a demon or something in me. Just writing this seems crazy.

I'm not lazy, and I am tired of calling myself a procrastinator. It has to be something else. For instances, when it's time to study, I can think of a million other things I could be doing, none of which are as beneficial as cracking open my accounting book. Before my exam, I studied in bits and pieces, but didn't start going over the study guide until 8am on the day of the text, which started at 945. . .I mean, I got a 89% on the exam, but I was so nervous. I got the grade I got on sheer luck.

How do I fight the devil in me? You know you feel in your heart that you want to do better, or that you need to do better, but something supernatural is holding you down?

I've figured out the answer, although Nike did it years ago.



Yea, just do it. When everything around me is trying stopping me, I won't let it. I'm going to exert more energy to complete the task than I normally would. For once, I'd like to be tired from a hard day's work than from lying around all day watching tv or doing something I had no business doing anyway.

It's all about habit and routine. The more I get in the practice of doing what the hell i'm supposed to be doing, the better off I'll be. So, starting today. . .

You know where this is going, I'm not gonna say it anymore. . .

**walking away chanting an anti-procrastination mantra**

Good Times Weekend Mumblings. . .

"Just lookin' outta the window. . ."

I decided to chill in the house this weekend. I cleaned my room (sorta), and studied for my accounting exam. In between this, I watched my favorite old school sitcom.

48 Hour Good Times Marathon on TV Land. . .yea boy.


Day 2: Damn, I'm getting a little tired of Good Times. . .after watching all of these, I missed my favorite ones, like when JJ got shot, when he got VD, and when his prom date (Debbie Allen) was harboring a drug problem.

How come James wore the same pair of corduroys on every episode, yet Thelma dressed like she had money?
Answer: Because Bernadette Stanis refused to look poor on tv, she demanded to wear nice clothing despite the fact she was portraying a teenager living in the projects...(thanks Mom)



How awesome is the theme song? It's one of the best in sitcom history hands down. It perfect fits the show. I rank it up there with The Jeffersons, and All in the Family's songs.

Ralph Carter (Michael) grew up to be an ug-mo, the rest of the cast looks pretty much the same.


The show went downhill after James died. I've seen the episode before but I still cried.
Esther Rolle did some of her best acting when she dropped the punch bowl. . .DAMN DAMN DAMN!


Look at all the celebs that had little parts in that show. Janet Jackson, Debbie Morgan, Louis Gosset, Jr., damn, even Jay Leno.

Well you know, what can I say?

I loved Helen Martin on this show, aka Weeping Wanda. I still can't the image of her in Master P's movie out of my head. . .

How come they keep putting that orange lipstick on Florida?

How come they don't make black sitcoms like this anymore? Minus the stereotypes, where are the family values and community togetherness in TV today? I'm tired of reality tv.

Wilona was soooo fly.

Back in the day, on the low, I mighta let Jimmy Walker hit, if he was anything like his J. J. character in real life.

Yo, Is that Stymie from Little Rascals?

Dear Summer

Man oh man. . .you really did a number on me this year. And you know the scary part, Summer? You aren't anywhere near being over! It's only July, and already you've brought the pain. I mean, I'm not gonna front, Summer. You've given me some good times this year, and I see improvements from the last time we were together, but I think the madness you brought this year topped any other year. Let's look at the ills you gave me (thus far):

I lost my oldest, and favorite uncle. (RIP Sherman Harris). I find solace in the fact that he didnt die in pain, that his sons will be taken care of, and the he's no longer suffering. But it was hard to lose him, knowing that we hadn't spoken in a while.

My name was thrown in the middle of a beef between my dad and one of his friends, and as a result I have spoke to him since early May. (Fuck 'em, be a man, ya feel me, Summer?)

I ran the risk of losing my financial aid as a result of the criminal deeds of the chick who stole my identity. I mean, I went to the Justice Center and straightened everything out, but I hated having to worry and stress due to someone's misuse of my identity.

I let go of a friend who was more toxic to me than endearing. I realized I was holding on for the sake of holding on, and that we really had no ties to one another. Like Nia long told Khalil Kain in Love Jones, 'All we had was all those years. . ." I should have done it a long time ago but hey, it's been months now and I feel freed. The ill part was the way it all had to go down. The shorthand version: Pettiness, broken locks, threats, police reports. Summer, I need not go on. . .

We had our fun times, Summer. I can't argue there. I sweated like I never sweated before, I became more diligent about working out and my overall health. I became more aware of myself (which it seems like I do more often than ever). I got closer to my cousins and my sisters. Oh yea, I learned the identity of the person who stole my identity. (Some young, pitiful, thugged out female. Pray for her) The best part of my summer thus far has been June 10-13. . .please write me back Summer, and let me know that the best is yet to come.

Now Summer, I don't wanna seem ungrateful for the good times you gave me, but the ills definitely outweighed them. I know what you're gonna say, silver lining, reason for everything, karma etc, etc. And you're right. I see the point. I understand. Now, ease up a lil, ok?

I mean, damn Summer, you used to be my favorite time of year, but now I'm waiting for Fall. And you know why. . .

So, let's make a deal. . .chill out from now until September, ok? Relax on the drama you've been bringing my way, and let me see Pookie before you turn into Autumn. Oh yea, and Summer? Instead of bringing the pain, bring the rain! It's hot as hell and my grass is turning brown.

Sincerely,
Shatira

Summer Reading

A friend of mine has been begging me to give him some good books to read this summer. So, here is a list of my top 10 summer reading books, not really in any particular order.

1. Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston
2. Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin
3. Life With Mother Superior by Jane Trahey
4. She's Come Undone by Wally Lamb
5. The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd
6. Lil Mama's Rules by Sheneska Jackson
7. Song of Solomon By Toni Morrison
8. A Day Late and a Dollar Short by Terry McMillan
9. The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran
10. Krik! Krak! by Edwidge Danticat

Happy Reading!

Tupac Shakur: The Rapper, The Poet, The Actor, The Rebel

June 16, 1971. . .I wasn't even born, wasn't even thought of. But Tupac (Lesane Parish Crooks) was born. He's my favorite rapper of all time (My gosh Pookie, how could he not be in your Top 5? Is he in the Top 10 at least? Top 7?). When I think of his work, on wax, paper, or screen, words like passionate, appealing, genuine, and honest come to mind. Aside from the fact the he was beautiful to look at, he was such a talented person with more promise and potential than we'll ever know he possessed. His life and death are like a tragic Greek play; he lived a valiant life with many ups and downs, had a warrior woman for a mother, became wildly successful, and died like so many expected he would. His legend lives on and his music still touches the world. Fuck Killuminati or 7 day theories, I'm the biggest fan out there, and if I say he's dead. . .he's dead. He ain't in Cuba. Sorry folks, but he is not the black people's Elvis. Today, he would have turned 34. I had to honor him with a post.

The Rapper

I remember hearing Pac with Digital Underground. He stood out even then. He wasn't one of those rappers who was all about weed, sex, and killing. His rhymes had substance, and he talked about a wide range of topics, teen pregnancy, overcoming adversity, loving your mother, sex, mourning loss, etc. He's one of the few rappers that could get away with crazy contradictions. He could be raw, and then sensitive. A thug one minute, and loving son the next. He was just a deep person. My favorite Tupac songs display this range:
Brenda's Got a Baby
Dear Mama
Life Goes On
Keep Ya Head Up
Temptations
Me Against the World
Fuck the World
So Many Tears
St8 Ballin'

The Actor

Above the Rim, Juice, Poetic Justice, Grid'lockd, and the list goes on. There was so much emotional appeal in his performance it was almost surreal. He was a rare find, a rapper who could act almost as good as he could rap. Remember when he was Piccolo on Different World?

The Rebel
"I woke up screaming fuck the world"

Damn, girls love bad boys. Through his court trials, and all other indiscretions, I still seen this strong, proud man who struggled to be himself. He was one of a kind, which is why there are so many, bandanna 'round the head, bald-headed, gravelly voiced wannabes out there still tryna copy his image after all these years.

The Poet

His poetry is intense. In my opinion, it's more personal than his raps. He comes across as vulnerable and serious. When reading The Rose That Grew From Concrete, you get a sense of a man who's more than a rebel, a rapper, and a thinker; you see the true reveal of an artist, a lover and a thinker. If you haven't read this collection, it's a must.

A loyal son, and a devoted artists. Multi-faceted and complex at best. There will never be another with his depth. Rest in peace. . .

Haiku for 2Pac

Image on t-shirts

Afeni and his words live

So his star still shines

THROWBACK ALBUM OF THE WEEK

Favorite Cuts:
Mr. Wendal
People Everyday
Raining Revolution
Natural

I bought this back when buying a CD or a tape was actually worth the money. There were 16 tracks, not the bullshit 9 or 11 you get these days for damn near 20 bucks. The group as a whole is soulful and makes beautiful music together. I saw Arrested Development on this new show called Hit Me Baby 1 More Time. They looked great, and they did an awesome cover of the Los Lonely Boys song Hollywood. It reminded me of some acoustic, Floetry type stuff.

Sexual Revolution

Everybody shake it
Time to be free amongst yourselves
Your mama told you to be discreet
And keep your freak to yourself
But your mama lied to you all this time
She knows as well as you and I
You've got to express what is taboo in you
And share your freak with the rest of us
Cause it's a beautiful thang
This is my sexual revolution
Everybody shake it
Time to be free amongst yourselves
Your mama told you to be discreet
And keep your freak to yourself
But your mama lied to you all this time
She knows as well as you and I
You've got to express what is taboo in you
And share your freak with the rest of us


Cause it's a beautiful thang
This is my sexual revolution
Everybody break it
Every rule every constriction
My papa told me to be home by now
But my party has just begun
Maybe he'll understand
That I got to beTo be the freak that god made me
So many thangz I want to try
Got to do them before I die
This is my sexual revolution

I'm so funkin' beautiful
Especially when I take my clothes off
I'm so funkin' beautiful
Especially when I take my clothes off
Sexual revolution


Got to do them before I die
Got to do them before I die

--Macy Gray

THROWBACK ALBUM OF THE WEEK

I'm always talking about how I love old school music, so I decided to choose a throwback album every week to pay homage to some of the great music of the past. Here's the first:

Chris Bender: Draped (1991)

My mother used to play this TAPE until it wore out. I was only around 8 when it came out, but I still knew good music. I knew all the words to each of the 10 songs on this album. Unfortunately his untimely death cut his career short, and with the music industry being so fickle, there's no way of really knowing how far he could have gone. This album came out right in the midst of the New Jack sing era, and followed the same formula as many other artists of the era like Teddy Riley, Keith Sweat, etc. His album was full of emotion and passion, and is just as relevant today as when it first came out.

Standout tracks:
Pourin' Like Rain
Who Will I Choose
Kiss and Makeup
Sorry Didn't Do It

Favorite Lyrics:
"One girl fulfills my physical needs, and the other girl provides for me mentally. Both parties make up my world, my minds in confusion which giiiiiiiiiiiiirl. Neither girl I want to lose, but by both of them I've been accused. I'm goin crazy, what should I do, who will I choose?"

(That's a situation so many people can relate to, I'm sure)

bell hooks

". . .about my people she was teachin me/by not preachin to me but speakin to me in a method that was leisurely/ so easily I approached. . ." Common, I Used To Love H.E.R.

I've been a fan of bell hook's writing since freshman year of college. She's insightful, and honest. She is an awesome revolutionary activist and poet. I've read many of her articles, and learned so much about topics that affect my everyday life. bell hooks challenges the way Ithought, and during a period in my life where I was uncertain about who I was, and where I needed to be, her words stirred something in side of me. Also, she is very humble. When asked about the lower-cased spelling of her name, which she prefers, she says it's "about ego: What's in a name? It is the substance in my books, not who is writing them, that is important." Here are two of her books that I'm adding to my soul's progression now:






Link to a bell hooks fansite:
http://www.allaboutbell.com/

49th hour of sleeplessness

In case you ever wondered, this is what insomnia looks like.

This year so far has been all about self-discovery, and other revelations. I've spent so much time alone that I couldn't help to learn about myself. So, I'm sharing my top ten truths here:

1. I don't love him anymore. FINALLY!!! I remember thinking he was dead, finding out about the babies, and facing her. I remember when the girl who introduced me to him told me they had been sleeping together. I remember the nicknames, and the songs. I remember wanting to look for him in the projects where he lived with her. I thought I needed to see him again, to get some closure or at least some clarity on why he treated me the way he did, but I'm good now. I'm over him and I thank him for preparing me to love and appreciate someone who was worthy of what I had to give.
The day I let go
I breathed a sigh of let go
And never looked back

2. Damn, I'm a freak. I'm accepting of so many things that seemed extreme. I'm happy to be open-minded. Pierced nipples used to seem so absurd to me, but now they are a possibility. I have a fantasy of having sex in a public place and being seen. Phone sex is a big turn-on which is why Girl 6 is one of my favorite movies. I'm not embarrassed about my feelings toward sex, and I feel great about that.

Handcuffs on my wrists
Honey drips slow from my tits
Leave the blinds open

3. I really do like "white people music", as my brother calls it. It's not some quirk I latched on to in order to fit in with my white friends, as some people may think. It's funny because most of them had more hip hop in their collections than I did. Maroon 5, Green Day, and Coldplay are on the top of my list. John Mayer speaks to me, and I've been listening to Alanis Morrisette since junior high. On the low, I'm digging Celine Dion and Gretchen Wilson. I used to be embarrassed by my different tastes, and now the very same people who used to diss me are bumping John Mayer, Coldplay, and Maroon 5 just because Jay-Z and Kanye West say they’re hot.
Don’t change the station
Don’t fuck with my radio
And we’ll be alright

4. I miss writing. With my classes, I didn’t have time to devote to my writing. NO, let me tell the truth. I didn’t manage my time well enough to stay on top of my books and pour energy into my stories and poetry.
I feel like myself
Watching, thinking, and then
Writing it all out

5. I really miss reading for pleasure. Last semester I took a Pan-African Women’s Literature class and I was introduced to Edwidge Danticat, former Black Panther Party member Elaine Brown, and reintroduced to Jamaica Kincaid. This summer I want to read more from these and other women, and learn of their struggles and joy.
Pages and Pages
Inspire me to become
A warrior girl

6. I’ve wasted a lot of time and energy caring about what people thought about me. Correction: what the wrong people seen in me. Well, I’m over that now. I remember being so upset that a girl in my class made it known she didn’t like me. I was dying to know why and she couldn’t tell me. Now I could care less. If you can’t help me move forward, or provide encouragement then I have no use for you anyway. Moving on. . .
Don’t gotta like me
I’ll be fine without yo ass
So just keep steppin


7. I haven’t spoken to God in a long time. There have been many times I needed to pray, but I didn’t. I won’t even talk about how many times I have forgotten to say grace before eating. I want to get the faith back into my life. I will start by asking Him to forgive me for neglecting him.
It’s been a long time
Since He and I had a talk
His arms are open

8. All of my jeans have not been shrunken in the washing machine. I am gaining weight. My thighs are thicker, and my tummy has more of a pudge to it than it’s ever had. But I won’t bitch, moan or complain. I am not going to blame it on the washer, the mirrors, or the clothing companies who cut their clothes smaller these days. I am going to abandon all conspiracy theories. I’m gonna make use of the Bally’s pass I’ve been paying for since January and get to the point where I feel healthier and I look the way I want to look.
It’s not the washer
Stopping my thighs from my jeans
I gotta get right


9. I am getting better about procrastinating. I like having things in order. I feel good turning in papers early, and not having to pop Vivarin or drink coffee to get things done.
Bullshitting has ceased
No longer putting off shit
That can be done now

10. I truly believe that everyone has the right to live the life they are truly happy to live. I accept so many different lifestyles, yet I still know who I am. I don’t want people to judge me, so I try to be as tolerant as possible. I’ve met some of the kindest, intelligent, and genuine people in the world who lived the most unbelievable lifestyles, and they couldn’t be happier. That’s how I want to carry out my life. Doing what I want, regardless of the stares, or disapproving glares from conservative fucks who lead bottled up, depressed lives.
Live how you wanna
Give them shit to talk about
But fuck what they say

I Hate..

DISCLAIMER: Hate is a terribly strong word, yet it applies to so much that I observe. I can say I hate things because I know the difference between hating, not liking and strongly disliking something. So, here's some of what I hate...]

-I hate when people say "conversating". It's conversing, dummy.
-I hate when people walk when the sign says don't walk, and then get upset when the cars damn near hit them
-I hate when young people don't give their seats up to the elderly, or pregnant women on public transportation
-I hate when people can't have an entire conversation without saying, "namean", or "yafeelme" a few dozen times
-I hate when women let men walk all over them because they have children with them
-I hate when men walk all over women even if they have children with them
-I hate when people only call you when they want something
-I hate when people want you to listen to their problems or issues, but fail to reciprocate when your time comes.
-I hate when I go into a store and try on a pair a jeans whose label claims to be my size, when they are actually cut a size or two smaller.
-I hate stores who only stop selling bras at D cups or less.
-I hate stores who sell matching bra and panty sets with big panties that I can't fit, but bras that fit ok.



So as not to seem bitter, the love post will soon follow.

What happened to my Brown Sugar?

He has gone from a sexy, well-toned chocolate, caramel dipped Adonis, to a .....umm, I really don't know what. But I bet he'd place first in a ODB look-alike contest. I remember when the album Brown Sugar out. It was back in the summer of '95, and I was only around 12, but I knew it was sensual and perfect for chilling out. I would play that tape all day long while writing poems and dreaming of imaginary boyfriends. I remember arguing with my sisters over the "secret"meaning of the title track and dancing to "Lady" and the awesome remix with AZ, one of my fave rappers.

Fast forward to January 2000, 4 days after my 17th birthday when I bought Voodoo as a gift to myself. I had a portable CD player by that time, and I listened to that CD on the long ass train ride on the way home from school, or to work. It was a little weird, kinna trippy, but I was feeling it. My fave song of this collection was number 7, 'One Mo Gin', but the most memorable track for me was number 12, mainly because of the video which had women tippin their TVs over, as Monique says. At the time, it was the finest male body I had ever see in my life, and I remember how quiet the room would be when my sister and I were watching that video, which was in heavy rotation on BET.

Fast forward once more to now, when D'angelo has been quite obscure, only to emerge with a negative story. I feel for him, and I hope he gets his stuff together. I absolutely crave a new D'angelo CD. Now that I am older and wiser, I feel that i will be able to appreciate his music in a whole new way. I just hope I'm not disappointed for so eagerly anticipating great music in the market where mediocre rappers are outselling genuine vocalists, and half-ass singers are overshadowing true talents across the board.

To his credit, in the interim of a studio album, Dangelo has done impressive work with Erykah Badu, Raphael Saddiq, and baby mama Angie Stone. I even have his live album. I just hope his next effort is sexy, soulful, and memorable.

Conversations while riding the bus...Part One:

Him: (turning to me) You are reeeeeal pretty.
Me:(looking into his blood red eyes) Thanks
Him:You're welcome, do you have a boyfriend?
Me:(giving my usual answer when I don't want to be bothered)Yes, I do
Him:Well, can I be your (dramatic pause). . .toy friend?
Me: Nah, I'm cool. I'm not really into that.
Him: Aiight, I'll holla.
(then he stick his tongue out and wiggles it at me, I roll my eyes in disgust and pull the cord to get off at my stop)

11 THINGS I NEED MY DUDES TO KNOW

In no particular order...

1. Wearing those long white t-shirts are not attractive. It should be a crime. I mean seriously, the woman should be wearing the dress, not the man. When I see a man wearing knee-length white tees I think about the times I stayed at my granny's and wore her gowns and old tees for pjs.

2. When we women hear men bragging about their dicks, or their overall sexual performance we know that they are more than likely lying. A real "packing gentleman" can be detected in several different ways, i.e. his walk (a.k.a. "the swagger"), the front of his slacks, and his confidence. Bottom line: Stop lying on your dicks!!!

3. When a woman rejects your advances, please know that it is not the end of the world. Just because your ego is slightly tarnished doesn't give you the right to call her a bitch, a hoe, or anything else. You really don't wanna know how many 'stuck-up ass hoes' I've been called just because I politely responding to someone by saying, 'I'm cool baby, but thanks anyway'. . .

4.Despite the Ying Yang making an entire song about whispering in a chick's ear, it's not hot to have some guy whose breath smells like hot garbage in a manure pile all in your face. Keep the oral hygiene tight, baby. In addition to the basic routine of brushing, flossing, and gargling, don't be afraid to pop a piece of Dentyne in your mouth every now and then.

5. No self-loving woman with common sense wants to be called "Hey Girl". Nor do we want to be called out by a description of our clothing. "Tight pants, tight pants," for example. Or calling ladies with big breasts whatever is on the front of their t-shirts...not sexy.

6. There is a such thing as jeans being TOO baggy. When you have to hold them up or they are below your ass, that's not a good look. You can be baggy and look decent with a belt.

7. It's never a good look to make babies and not take care of them. Plain and simple. Regardless of whatever the relationship with the child's mom, you should always strive to be good father. Sons need roles models and the male figures in a daughter's life (or lack thereof) will absolutely influence the men she deals with in her life.

8.The first time you call a girl, it's probably not a good idea to ask her a whole bunch of sexual questions like, "Do you suck dick?"or, "Have you ever been with a girl before?" If you let a little time pass by you will probably get a more honest answer.

9. Also, while we're on the subject, stop expecting more from a woman that you are willing to give. Whether it's in terms of sex, time, money, or whatever. If things are reciprocated there is little or no risk of someone feeling used or underappreciated.

10.This is a good one for men and women. You should never say what you will NEVER do. I've heard things like, 'Man, I'd never go down on a chick, I put that on err-thing.' or, 'I'll never spend money on no broad.' And my favorite: "You will never hear me crying over no chick. Ain't no pussy worth it". Well, when doth protests much, doth will do what he so blatantly claims he won't. I've seen it over and over.

11. PRIORITIZE, PLEASE!! Rims, and bling are not forever. You can't sneak chicks into your mom's basement forever. Set goals for your long-term well-being. Establish some credit. There is nothing wrong with driving a hoopty, living in a small apartment (that has your name on the lease) and working an honest job until you get something better. You can't hustle forever, pimpin' is dead, and your mother isn't going to live forever.

DISCLAIMER: Every man is not guilty of all of these things, yet everyone can improve themselves. This is in no way dissing anyone as I love all of my black brothers. This is simply a list of helpful hints for men much in the way Cosmo claims to help the ladies.

DEFENDING MY RACE

I am so tired of having to defend my race to non-African Americans. I don't understand why people feel that one person can be a representative for an entire race. I don't consider myself some type of spokeswoman for every black person, nor do I want to be. How can I speak for people I don't know?

This has been going on ever since I can remember. I've always had a diverse group of friends. In high school and college. But I know plenty of people who only hang with others who think, look, and feel as they do. I don't think this is a healthy way of life, because you miss out on being exposed to different cultures and viewpoints.

In high school we had White stoners who only hung with stoners, a group of Asian kids who referred to themselves as the Asian Mafia, Black kids from one side of town who pretty much hung around with one another, and a host of other cliques. I try to have friends from different groups because you never really know what you can take from being around certain people.

Anyways, I had dinner with a friend of mine of a different race the other night, Everything was fine, but after dinner we took a drive through a few different neighborhoods with no specific destination. We happen to get on the subject on interracial dating. He described a situation where he and his lover were walking along Lake Erie when they spotted a Black woman and a White man walking together hand-in-hand. He said that there were some Black teenagers nearby who seen the couple and began to express their discontent at the interracial couple. The teens proceeded to say derogatory things to the couple who rightfully ignored them and continued their romantic walk.

That being said, my friend posed this question to me: Why do black people dislike seeing a black woman and a white man more than seeing a black man and a white woman?

I paused, a little taken aback. Part of me wanted him to let his question, obviously an unthought out blurt, marinate, so that he could retract his statement, but his expectant pause showed that he was sincere. I wanted to perfectly articulate a response, but I really didn't know what to say. Personally, I have no problem with who you date, race, gender, religion, whatever. But the way my friend asked the question made me feel that I was his only outlet into the black world, and whatever my answer was would be the concensus for the race. So after a few minutes of silence I said to him: "Well, I can't speak for all Black people, but this is how I feel." Then I gave him my opinion. He still didn't grasp the fact that I was offended by his question because he followed it with another: "Well, how come Black women get so mad when they see a White girl with a Black man?"

After another pause, I told him that I, a Black woman, don't get mad at a Black man for choosing to date whomever he wants, as long as he isn't using a hatred towards Black women as an excuse to date Muffy, Buffy, or Suzy. Then I told him that I can't answer for all 'my people' because I don't know them all.

I think about historical aspects of African Americans, and I understand some of the hostility, but every person's struggle is different. Racist, predjudice, and people filled with hate all feel the way they feel for particular reasons. Those kids at the lake weren't expressing the general beliefs of all Blacks. Instead, they were expressing ideas they learned from their parents, because those are usually our first teachers, and the people who teach us to love, hate, tolerate, or discriminate.


I'm an intelligent, Black woman but I refuse to explain my race to others anymore, ok? If you really wanna know why we feel that way we do, or do the things we do, pick up a book. Learn about the Middle Passage,Willie Lynch, the Souls of Black Folk, etc. and draw your own conclusions.

There is no general concensus or idealism that we all share right now, and I don't think that's a necessarily a bad thing. Some of us still feel oppressed, some of us don't. Some of us have a distrust for "the man", while others don't care. The bottom line is that we are all individuals, and our opinions should be dealt with as so.

Damn, it was sunny and warm a couple days ago. I didn't need a jacket or anything. Now I'm in my peacoat and my fleece-lined boots all over again. I'm hating Cleveland weather right now.

What do you want to be?

Ask them...
What do you want to be?
They say...
I wanna be the dopest, the coldest, with arms the most froze
Let me be chilling the hardest, with the flyest people and see the livest things.
Ask me, I say.
Let me be the realist. Let me be the most focused, the most determined and the most grounded.
Ask them...
What do you want to be?
They say...
I wanna be the prettiest, sexiest, most beautiful.
Laced in the flyest clothes, iced out.
Most thugged out, with the hottest cars.
They ask me,
'Don't you want to be known for being the best in your field? With the most accolades and the critical acclaim?'
I shrug...I say
'Let me be the most giving, most humble, most genuine, and I'll be cool...'

A Long Walk

Wednesday, March 30 was a good day. In fact, it was one of my better days. The sun was shining so I was smiling big. I can't really be depressed or sad when the weather is lovely. I didn't have class, so I decided to get out of the house for a little while, and take a nice long walk...Jill Scott style, but on the solo tip. I walked past little girls playing, boys chilling on porches, and playing basketball in the park. I realized how nice my neighborhood is and how fortunate I am to live where I live where the crime is low, and the babies can still play. I loved it.

The more I walked, the more I thought. The more I thought, the more decisions began to form in my skull. I started concentrating on things I hadn't thought about in months, or years in some cases. I had good memories and bad ones. I thought about sneaking out of the house and never getting caught, my first kiss, and the first time my little heart was broken. I thought about the first man who ever said he loved me and whatever happened to him. I thought about my absent father, and his family who have kept their distance from me and my sisters for so long.

I thought about my maternal grandmother and all her quirkiness, well her annnoying ways. I thought about how she isn't going to live forever. I thought about how strong my mother is, and how she has raised me and my sibs to the best of her ability and beyond, and how some have strayed. I thought about my niece and how wonderful and awesome young life is. When I close my eyes, I see her pretty face and her cute smile, complete with slobber.

I thought about the most passionate night I have ever experienced, and wondered what he was doing right now, and what we would be doing if we were together right now. I thought about how unfair it is that we aren't together right now, and made myself a little sad. Then I felt better after reminding myself that everything eventually works out for the best.

I walked, and walked, and walked until I was about 2 miles from my house. I stopped to get water, and contemplated the walk back. The sun was beating down by now, and I was a little warm in my jean jacket. I damn near took the bus back, but I didnt have my wallet. So I turned around and started my journey home.

On the way home I thought about my future. I know what I wanna do, and where I want to be in the next few years. I started mapping out things in my head. I thought about what I needed to do, and my head started hurting a little, maybe it was the sun, but I'm assuming it was the fact that I need to get focused and force myself to think about these things more often. It's so easy to reminice on the past, but the future is hard to consider.

So unlike my first walk where many, many thoughts filled my skull, the long walk home was accompanied by a one track mind, and that is how Operation: Get it Together was formed.

SONGS I'M FEELING RIGHT NOW

Common- The Corner---This is such a dope track, beat heavy with substance
Amerie ft Fabolous & Eve-One Thing--It's kinna sexy, and makes me wanna dance, plus it keeps me pumped in the gym.
En Vogue-Giving Him Something He Can Feel--Old school 90s remake of a classic, but it's so appropriate for me right now.
Will Smith ft Thicke-Switch RnB Remix--I just heard the reggae mix last night, so I officially am feeling all 3 versions of this song. Another one that keeps me sweating in the gym.
Sade-Your Love is King--Sade at her finest, I can't get enough of the song. It says so much.
Ray J ft Fat Joe-Keep Sweatin'--Once again, keeps me pumped in the gym, and I'm not even a Ray-J (or Gay-J as we used to call him) fan
Rupee ft Daddy Yankee-Tempted to Touch--I loves me some reggae, and this song is officially the Kevin Lyttle 'Turn Me On' of the moment for me