"The doctor said I had blood clots, but I ain't Jamaican man"
-Kanye West

Dear homettes, friends, family, and other readers,

This is a long update. If I act strangely lately, this is why. I have lots on my mind, and I don't even know where to begin.

Summer semester of school is almost over. I had a test today that I thought I might fail. I have this habit of calculating best/worse case scenarios, and I think I just might get a C on the test. A C would do just fine, and that's really all I expect to get out of the class. Last night, before trying to study for the test I made a HUGE mistake. My stupid self decided to calculate what my GPA should be after the semester is over. I got a 2.3. I almost threw a FIT because I need a 2.5 to keep the scholarship, and frankly I'm not seeing the possibility of going to school next semester without it. I was all distressed, I wanted to cry and give up after 7 of 8 weeks spent in vain. Needless to say, after that it was nearly impossible to study. All that time for nothing? How/Why do I keep doing this kind of stuff to myself? The easiest class I have, which is some computer thing for only 1 credit hour, is the class I'm doing the worst in. I'm trying to bring my grade up to a D yall. That is plain ridiculous.

And if i don't pass the class, that will not only put my scholarship in jeaopordy again, but will complicate my process of going to ISU, which is already complicated enough. I have given up on the idea of Knox, and have finally come to terms with my future at ISU. But I have NO idea of what to do, when to do it, and where to do it. I (wisely) saved everything they sent me from the time I got my acceptance letter, but it seems I should have gotten some stuff that I didn't. So I'm lost. I don't know what to do first, I don't know if I'm gonna stay in the dorms, I don't know if I'm gonna get financial aid, I don't know anything. I'm not used to this situation, because Eliz is the person who figures out the unknown. If Eliz doesn't know, she will figure the thang out on her own. But this one is stumping me more than Chi-square tests and 2-Prop Z Intervals. It's causing me distress, and I'm upset with my mother for not having gone to college, because she can't even help me :( . None of my people have gone to college, and I don't think they (especially my mother) understand the stress it puts on me. I wish I had someone who had been there, done that, and bought the t-shirt that I could relate to. *sigh* I'm going through this thing pushing a white cane in front of me, and too headstrong to ask for directions.

I even thought about not going to school anymore. Maybe just for a semester, maybe for the rest of my life. Throw away the dreams of Bachelor's and Master's degrees. Find a decent job that makes ends meet, and live like the rest of my family. That would be much easier.

So while trying to study and thinking about all these things, I got a phone call. This male voice said "Do you know who this is?", and I was racking my brain to pick up any vocal clues. Is this somebody who lives here, or maybe some family from down south that I've only talked to once or twice. Is it a friend? A previous classmate? My mother said "It's your cousin Michael."

MIKEY!?!? It was unreal. Mikey and I haven't seen each other in 14 or 15 years. I was crackin up when he said "so I heard you have a sister", cuz that girl is pushing 14 years. I guess you could call it a 'blast from the past' (for lack of better term) hearing from him. I remember it used to be me, Mikey, Dante, and Lil' Scott (or Scotty). Scotty was the oldest, now he's 27. Dante is 25 and Mikey is 23. He has 2 KIDS!!!! It was so unbelievable to talk to him after SO VERY LONG. He was 7 or 8 the last time we saw or talked to each other, and now he is a grown man with kids. I had to resist the urge to call him Mikey, and to refer to Scott as Lil' Scott or Scotty. We talked for a while, doing our best to catch up on 15 years in about 30 minutes. I miss the days when we'd all be at Grandmother's house in Chicago, and they would tickle me to NO END. I honestly think they're the reason why I'm not ticklish now, because they tickled it all out of me. I miss them boys.

Then, while talking to Mikey, my cousin Jerome called on the other line! I had been wondering what happened to Jerome, since I hadn't talked to him in a few months. He and Lil' Scott are about the same age. Anyway, I always love talking to him. It feels good to talk to my father's side of the family.

As for my father, I have to resist the urge of telling him to kiss my nether regions. My mother said she heard from him about a week ago, and I asked what was going on with him. She sighed, looked me in my eyes and said, "Well, he's back at home." My father is an institutionalized individual, so that makes his home anywhere with bars and guards. He's facing a life sentence this time. That makes me SO ANGRY. Not only did he bastardize me, but he decided to then further traumatize my life by attempting to step in every now and then and 'father' me. MoFo, my mother IS my father. You have been USELESS, as a matter of fact the only purpose your life has served is 1) being another freaking STATISTIC, and therefore allowing the negative stereotypes of Blacks to survive 2) Scarring me for life, and 3) breaking my mother's heart. You should have just left us alone to wonder what ever happened to you. That would undoubtedly have been better than your yo-yo half-stepping presence in my life. You are no good. I can't have the memories of sitting on my father's lap, or showering him with loving hugs and kisses. I could never brag about what my father did for a living, I just lied and told people I didnt' know where you were. I STILL lie and tell people I don't know where you are!! And you wanna get mad at ME when you think Im trying to give you a guilt trip. YOU DESERVE A UF-KING GUILT TRIP! If i wasnt raised to respect adults in general, I woulda tore you a new one a LONG time ago. I woulda gone postal on you and done my best to express my years of feeling hurt, rejected, unloved, and bastardized, in verbal form using my best FRENCH, physical form, and psychological form. Remember when I introduced you to Sonia as "my mama's baby daddy"? You got so MAD, but do you think I cared. If my mother wasn't there, I shoulda introduced you as the piece of ish that my DNA is half composed of.

I WISH I COULD HURT YOU.

My father should have been there to regulate my expectations of males. Mabye then I wouldn't have gotten myself involved in the Max situation. Sometimes I don't wanna see his African face, other times I wanna jump his African bones, literally. I have been dealing, and am STILL dealing with this thing. My mother sees him as the victim, and me as the villian. According to her, I broke his heart and played with his emotions. Is she NOT seeing the big picture?? This grown azz man came to me in the freshness of my legal adulthood, exposed me to the experience of his thoroughly excercised adulthood, and then essentially left me haging on the premise of his relationship that I was kept ignorant of. THANKS DUDE. I'm the villian????? What the frell? What did I miss here?

Then, I wanna get a car, but I don't know if I can afford having one. I took a shower today, but apparently the shirt I'm wearing isn't clean. I sniffed it, but I must have only sniffed the one non-smelly spot cuz it smells kinda weird now. That's too bad cuz I gotta wear it alllll day. I'm thinking about a LOT of identity issues concerning race and gender. That alone is enough to preoccupy my thoughts for a lifetime. I was supposed to take 2 big trips this year (Germany and Costa Rica), and the only place I went is to Chicago. My little sister got arrested and my mother thinks it's all her fault. What am I gonna do with my hair? It's hot outside. My mind seems to be stuck in '95. I do wanna jump his bones. Right now. Why can't I lose weight? I still haven't returned that CD to the Library. My fine is gonna be HUGE. I hope I find the other CD I lost of theirs. I need some clothes. I'm afraid to dream. Why dont' they make a GOOD 90's hits CD with SWV, Aaliyah, Diggable Planets, Hammer, and Escape on it? I have all of this stuff on my mind.

"That right there could drive a sane man bizzerk"

Dear You pt. 2
(Pieces of Me)

Hi. I know I just wrote a letter to you, but another one is definately due. Remember how I asked you to please stay out of my thoughts? I meant that, but I guess you don't want to comply. I saw you yesterday at the White Castle in Kankakee. All I wanted was to get some cheeseburgers and take them back home to enjoy, and here you go, coming up in there in somebody else's body. Your posture, your build, your face, even your hat. But somebody else's body. You had the audasity to walk up in that place like you owned it, and didn't even look at me. Not even out of the corner of your eye! You acted like I wasn't even there. That was cruel, I just want you to know. Also, I don't appreciate you following me around like that.

You seem to be doing a lot of that lately, following me around in your subtle ways. Disguising yourself in other people's bodies, manifesting yourself in their ways. And you only do little things that I would pick up on. A certain walk, that peculiar posture, your familiar scent, the shape of your body. You know I'm gonna notice, so that's why you do it. Repeatedly.

Why are you doing this to me? Does it satisfy you to see the look of shock in my eyes while I'm attempting to stare at you without being seen? Or is it that you enjoy teasing me with pieces of your presence to make my heart ache? Why do you keep making me feel this way?

Maybe its because you know I miss you, and you don't want me to stop missing you, whereas I would appreciate stopping missing you. In that case, I should do the same to you. I should start popping up everywhere you go, with little pieces of myself that you know. My headwrap. My earring. My facial expressions. My laugh. Then see how you deal. Then see how you like a taste of your own medicine.

You're good, because I haven't yet figured out how you do this. I don't know how to follow you, or even precede you and show you these pieces of me. I don't know how to be where you are at any given time of day. I just don't know.

I just don't know.

It is unfair for you to manipulate my feelings without even BEING HERE!
Meanie.

Dear You

You know who you are, so don't even be lookin crazy. How are you doing? I'm not asking this question for conversational reasons, but because I really want to know. I haven't seen you in such a long time! Where are you??

I still think about you. Like, everyday. I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing, but I do know that I miss you. Maybe if I even knew where you were it would help, but I guess it doesn't matter, because I don't. Anyway, you might be wondering what this letter is for, so let me take out the guesswork. This is one attempt of many to get what I think I'm looking for: closure. I'm not sure, but this must be what I need to "get over you". I'm not even sure if getting over you is what I'm trying to do, but I'm figuring that must be it. I know you probably think I am a confused little girl, but to be honest I usually only get this way when it comes to you. You kinda make me lose my thoughts, and to question things to the point of no return. And when you rebut my points with your points, that makes it all the worse. I find it difficult to explain things to you, although I know you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about. That is one thing that I don't miss, because it makes me feel confused and kind of. . .intelectually inferior. That's not cool with me.

But back to closure. I'm not sure what closure entails, so I looked it up. Closure-to bring to an end.

What exactly am I trying to bring to an end? Well, I think mostly I want to stop the variety of emotions that I feel when I think of you. They range from joyous to loved to confusion to anger to sexual to used. That's a lot to deal with, especially just in the spaces of my mind. But how can I tell you that? How can I deal with that? How can I get closure?

It's not that I mind thinking of you, because I know I will NEVER forget you. I might forget what you look like, to be honest I do that now, but I cannot forget you. With that, I know that memories have attatched emotions, so is it really possible to think of you without this flood of emotion? You, am I trying to do something that is impossible??

Perhaps closure should have come with the announcment of your marriage. I was shocked beyond belief, but of course I couldn't show you. I'm good like that. You probably saw right through me though, you know how we have that Libran intuition thing. I knew that you had to take care of your business by marrying her, but it made me quite sad. (Darn you, you're making me tear up right now!!) I was hurt because...well, I don't really know why. I guess you being married extinguishes all possibilities of us (rightfully) being together. I knew I would never have you again, and if I did the consequences would not be worth it for both of us, and for your wife.

Closure did not come.

Sometimes I really wish I could be with you again. Remember the time at your house when you put on some of your music, I think it was some Rumba thing, and you started dancing? You move quite smoothly sir. I was thinking to myself "oooo, look at this brotha move! Ol boi can dance!" I wanted to dance too, but I didn't know how to dance like that, and I didn't want you to have to show me, and me get all tied up in my footsteps and what-not, so I just sat there looking at you. It would be nice to see you dance again. That memory always makes me smile.

At times like that I enjoyed being with you. And when we watched the fireworks? Man, that was the BEST 4th of July I've had since moving here. I thank you for that. But sometimes, I didn't like being with you. Especially when it came to SEX. You know and I know that I NEVER planned on/wanted to have sex with you. I gave you the whole "waiting for marriage" speech, and I knew you weren't tryin to hear it. I didn't care. I was determined to stand my ground, and I did for a relatively long time. If not for that trying period in my life, you sir, wouldnta got NOTHIN. But that trying period did come. I didn't understand you and the sex thing. Yea yea, I know you have desires and all that, but is it not possible to put them aside? Sometimes I needed you to just talk to me, and not touch me. Okay, sometimes I needed (well, wanted) the touching too, but climax vs. conversation, the latter is what I woulda chose. Now, I do want you back in a sexual way. I want to touch you, smell you, kiss you. . .lets not get myself worked up, this will turn into a whole nother letter. But that is your fault. YOU awoke this demon in me, and left me with it! Um, excuse me, what the heck am I supposed to do?????? Gawd, I could slap you upside the head for that! (and no, not the little head)

But, this problem cannot solely be acredited to you. I should never have let things escalate to that point, or any point near that point. BUT I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING! And you knew that. But did you care? NO. You did not care, and that hurts because you should have. How could you exploit me in my naivete? Is that okay with you? Do you sleep fine at night? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FEEL CARE AND CONCERN FROM SOMEONE WHO KEEPS TRYIN TO GET IN MY JEANS???

Dang.

Can you answer that for me? And don't give me that jive of "Because I love you, I wanna have sex with you" because I'm certainly not buying it. That is what I call BS and I certainly have been wearing boots up to my waist trying to sift through it. Did you ever really care, or was it all a facade? If so , I don't appreciate that at all. But then, like you said, if all you wanted was a lil' sum sum, you coulda got that anywhere. I believe that.

All the "I love you"'s and I'm in love with you's, yes I heard them, but I never ever believed them. And for the record, lets clarify that the two are not completely synonomous. I never said I was in love with you, because I never was. As a matter of fact, I don't think I liked you all that much when we were together, but I think I mostly kept seeing you just to see what would happen next. It wasn't the conversations that kept me. It wasn't the orgasms. It wasn't the mediocre/unsatisfying sex. And I was unimpressed by your money. I was however, impressed by your hardworking-ness.

That was something I always admired about you, you would work so hard. You were mature and responsible, and so many men (and people in general) are not like that. You took care of your business like a MAN, and I respect that. I give you mad props. I also appreciated your intellect. You never tried to act like you knew everything, but intellect can always shine through. Your intellect+that African wisdom thing= HOTNESS. Now THAT makes my eyes roll back and my toes curl. Woo yes! And of course, I cannot leave out what I call 'our intuition'. I acredit it to us both being Libras, even though I'm not all about the zodiac stuff. Libras are known for having a 'sixth sense' sort of thing, and yours combined with mine was such a cool experience. It was like we could completely read each other's minds, even though we weren't that tight. It was thrilling.

But alas, all that is over now. You must move on with your life, and me with mine. As far as closure, I don't know about that. If you could, maybe stay out of my mind for the most part. Once or twice a month would be plenty of thought, and after time we can reduce. That would do fine for closure, I don't ask for much.

I wish you a happy life with your wife, please treat her well. I know you love her. I hope your kids are beautiful and healthy. I hope that you remain in good health as well. Perhaps we will see each other around.

Goodbye.

Elizabeth

One Woman Band

I am a fine musician, that's what people say
and you can tell by the music in my sway

For some reason, today my walk is especially noisy.
My flip flops *scritch flop, scratch plop* (no matter how hard I try, dragging my feet in flip-flops is inevitable).
My purse *clunk, clunk* with all its keys, pills, balms, coins, and undiscovered contents hitting my thigh with each step.
My jeans *whoomp whoomp* as each flare leg hits the other.
My bookbag *thump thump* thanks to the pack of ramen noodles I have housed in a plastic storage container.

Timbaland and Magoo can't touch me!!

In other news, I'm looking for a new hairdo. I've been doing some searching lately, for new do's and also some good products. I think I'm gonna try this Sta-Sof-Fro stuff. I've read a few good things about it on product reviews. Seems to work well for natural hair, and doesnt cost too much.

I like these styles a lot, and can really see myself rocking both of em. What do you think? I'm more partial to the Bantu Knots, mostly because they are something you don't see as often. I'd like to be able to do them myself, but we'll see how that goes. I need to do something though. My mane is a mess. I've been trying to wear this curly/free naps/afro thing, but its starting to feel supa dry, especially after I decided to try and color it. Well, the color didn't show much, but the dryness sure did. Instead of cute-ness, I've got a hot-mess. Ah well, for some reason I still get compliments on it, though mostly from those of what my mother calls "the caucasian persuasion" lol. They tell me how "cool" it looks, and my face smiles and my lips thank them. Really, I'm thinking "Whatchu talkin bout Willis??" But I guess it could be worse.

City Bus Philosopy
(God definately has a sense of humor.)

I was riding the bus to school yesterday morning. It was the same as most other mornings: hit the snooze twice before waking up, then rush to get ready to leave by 7, speedwalk/jog to the bus stop and pray the whole way that I don't miss the bus. Regular morning.

Well, this particular day my prayers didn't exactly work. As I was half a block away from the bus stop, I saw the bus zoom by. This is not cool when I have just speed-walked 5.5 blocks. I make the long trudge back home, lugging my bag and purse, which are killing my shoulders, and wearing the same sandals I said I would never walk signifigant distances in again.

The next bus I took was the one that comes right by my house. For some reason, I almost missed that one too. As I was about to cross the street (2-way traffic) I saw it approaching, and I seriously had to weigh the pros and cons of nearly getting hit by a car to catch the bus, or missing statistics class. Well, nevertheless I made it to class.

Two women that also go to my school were on there, talking about classes and general chit-chat. When one mentioned that she was taking philosophy, I immediately thought of 2ra. She (let's call her Myrtle) talked about how much she hated it, the other woman (lets call her Kim) wholeheartedly agreed.

Kim: I hate philosophy! Gawd, its the worst! Have you leaned about
Socrates yet? ooo, ooo, did you learn about SoandSo's theory on this?? or what
about What'shisname's theory on that?? OH MAN I HATE PHILOSOPHY!!!!!

Yeah. She was awfully enthused about this philosophy thing. Tina had a look of contained freaked-outness as Kim rambled and rambled, and became louder and louder. She went on her own tangent, completely leaving Myrtle behind, about every philosophical theory she could think of on the spot, and whose theory it was, and what it meant. I'm tellin ya, she really hated philosophy.

I'm telling you, this woman was so animated, loud, and excited you wouldn't believe it. She then asked Myrtle,
"Do you know what the ultimate philosophical question is?"
Myrtyle, with a look of scared-confusedness replied,
"Um, no."
Kim with her LOUD self said,
"DOES GOD LUV IT BECUZ ITS GOOD, O IZ IT GOOD BECUZ GOD LUVS IT?!?!?!"
as if she had just made a profound declaration of the end-all of everything that is deep. Yeah.

Bus Driver: Well I don't really know.
Myrtle: Hm, well I guess. . .
Kim: YEA, SEE, I TOLD YA. YOO CAN'T FIGGA IT OUT!
Bus Driver: It could be either one, because God can do anything he wants.
Kim: YEA! HE CAN EVEN MICROWAVE A BURRITO SO HOT THAT EVEN HE COULDN'T EAT IT!
BUT THEN HE COULDN'T EAT IT.
SO DEN, CAN HE REALLY DO ANTHING??

Kim the proceeded to crack up and bust a gut at her own joke. She was both the comedian and entire comic-view audience. I woulda turned Apollo up in that mug, and dragged her crazy self off the bus. Her city-bus philosophy was just too much for me. I figured it would be better to stay quiet and blogaboutit.

I wish you coulda been there.

Dream On

What is a dream
but a bubble in the space of my mind?
Fragile, iridescent, transparent
floating in time

What is a dream
but my lifeline?
though deferred making hearts ill,
to defer a dream can kill

For it is by our dreams
that we aspire
to grasp the unreachable
teach the unteachable
go where we've never been before
by our dreams we are unstoppable
didn't you know?

What is a dream
but a shiny pretty thing?
sparkling in rays of hope
dimming in light of reality

What is a dream
but foundation for everything

For it is by our dreams that we achieve
for what has ability without support of dreams?
The world is made greater because of these
see the influence of Ghandi and King?
Even they have no more power than we
but were able both to see and believe
in the power of their dreams

So, what then is a dream
but life-both to the world and us
Fear not ambitious reveries
Dream on! Dream on we must!

Zzzzzzzzzzzz. . .

Problem: I cannot stay awake in my statistics class. It's not that it's so boring, its me. It's not that I don't sleep at night, because I usually do. I don't know what it is, but its getting to a ridiculous point. Yesterday it was so bad that I left class halfway through because I could literally stay awake for only 5 or so minutes at a time before dozing off. I fight the sleep so so hard, but its like I'm a classroom narcaleptic, and it's really becoming a problem. And you should see my notes. Nothing like that drifting off to sleep writing. But I've tried everything to keep myself awake! I tried drinking something to awaken my senses, shaking my leg, tapping my foot, stretching, breathing deep to get some oxygen to my brain, biting my lip or tongue, doodling, even putting my bare foot or leg on the freezing cold pole that holds up the table to shock the mess out of myself. Nothing works.

Then to add fuel to the fire, I drank an orange Mountain Dew last night at work (I was tired ok!). It took me forever to get to sleep, and all I could think was "I'm so not gonna be able to stay awake in class tomorrow". I even cried because of my plight, but eventually I slept.

Solution: I hate to resort to this, but something's gotta give. I'd rather not go this route, but I have no other choice. NoDoz has again become my drug of choice. I only turn to it in extreme cases, i.e. last spring semester when I would'nt sleep the whole night to finish a paper/speech due the next day at 8 a.m. only to face a whole nother day of classes and work. Extreme right? I figured if I took one shortly after I wake up (6 something) then by 8:00 it should be in my system and working quite nicely. Today I stayed awake.

However, even though I was indeed awake, and am still awake, I feel so strange. I feel like my body is really sleeping. It feels like my eyelids are heavy, and about to drop to a close, but are being yanked wide open by the fingers of my caffeine pills. *sigh* I don't like this but I feel like I have to do it. If you know of anything else I can do to help myself stay awake, please help a sista out. Please.

Pleeease.

Hooooold Up

You've got to be kidding me!

I'm in the computer lab, and somebody's cell phone went off. First of all, it was loud and should have been put on vibrate. But no. And of course it had to ring with a ringtone. All I heard was a couple of strange beats, then a loud male whine of AWWWWWW, DIRTY POP!

Dirty Pop??? Of all the ringtones (realtones, not that polyphonic junk) you need to pick Dirty Pop? I would not normally be mad if a cell phone rang in the lab, its not like I'm really doing anything important. However, my belief is that if you wish to keep your ringer on, on its loudest setting, at least get some good music on there! Something I can bop my head to and a song I won't mind being stuck in my head all day.

Dirty Pop does not fall into that category.

So I whip my head around to see who's phone is Dirty Pop'in, expecting to see some young, fresh out of highschool white girl with a pink flip phone that has a light-up antenna. Imagine my surprise when I see a 20-something MAN answer the call. A grown man bumpin Dirty Pop on his cell phone? What's next? "I Want You Back", or "Bye, Bye, Bye"?

Scary man, Scary

ah, the glory of the opposable thumb

Today my statistics teacher spent about 10 minutes in a discussion about today's generation's dexterity of thumbs. I lie not. It started with him asking us which do we use more, the index finger or the thumb?

His father, who is a construction worker, noticed this boy keying in the garage code with his thumb, and thought it quite strange. Strange, because the father himself would have keyed in the code with his index finger.

He then came upon the realization that today's generation use their thumbs more than his own. This attributed mostly to video games, where thumbs are, of course, most handy. Most people also use their thumbs to punch in numbers on their cell phones. (I have seen those in older generations use their fingers to type on their cell phone, and yes, it looks quite silly.) Then the teacher asked, which do you use when operating your calculator?

I laughed to myself. I use my fingers of course! What madness is this?? But some fear embedded in the back of my mind knew there must be some validity to this question. I held my calculator in my hand, slid it into its cover, and preceded to turn it on.

WITH MY THUMB!!!!

Surely this was not right, he must've tricked me into using the opposable phalange! But as I continued to feverishly type in random numbers, It was all thumb, thumb, thumb!!

I was distraught
I was dissapointed in myself
I cried.

Then I realized that yes, I can proudly say I use my thumbs on a daily basis, and so what? Besides, taking an observational stance, I conclude that thumbs are primarily used when the fingers are occupied. The new trend is, the fingers hold, the thumbs get ta workin'.

It all makes sense!
(after that, I preceded to fall asleep during the lecture on Table B, Random Digits)

Unfinished

one mug of tepid tea
a thousand crumbs from cut french bread
knife still readied to butter
left in haste

scraps from a new dress carelessly strewn
multicolored threads decorate wooden floors
opened scissors, straight pins piercing the tomato
quickly forgotten

one page,one pen
a thousand floating thoughts
tens of fleeing words
never completely caught
-lyric

Guurl, What You Done Did???

I cannot believe myself. For someone who sees such a great future for herself, I sure am regressing. I dub this semester as the worst of all since my academic career, and because of it I am seriously ready to drop out. I feel like my life is over.

I got 3 B's and 3 F's. How is that even possible? No A's C's or D's. Just B's and F's. I could whoop myself for this.

I try not to think about it, but I must. When I do, it's just a slippery slope.

How could I do so hooribly this semester? Don't I ever learn? Now, I am more credits behind from graduating Heartland, which means I'll have to take another summer class. But I probably won't be able to because I will lose my scholarship. WHY? Because apparently I made big mistakes this semester. No scholarship, and I still haven't filed my FAFSA, which means I'll probably get NO financial aid, and I certainly can't afford to go to school otherwise, cuz I'm not having my mother pay a dime for it, which means I won't go to school for probably a year, which will put me so behind with my life plans. I might as well just work for the rest of my life. My life is over.

I choke back alligator tears, because they will not help me. I done did it now.

So Far, So Good

Today has been a good day. I anticipated starting the day around 10:00, but for one reason or another (I blame the T.V.), I didn't actually leave until 1:30. Slight delay, but no problem. I carried with me my to-do list and have been crossing things off one by one.

Call Knox- I got this one out of the way before I left the house. I called them once again to check on the status of my application. This time, insead of telling me that she didn't know, the secretary connected me right to an advisor. The advisor told me that the admission decision had been made and that a letter was sent out today. Hopefully within a couple of days I should know. The suspense is gone, I'm now ready to accept my postion as either a Redbird or as a. . .um. . .Knox student (I have no idea what their mascot is). Either way, its about time.

Pick up English portfolio- I went out to the school today to pick up my portfolio from english class. It was a tough semester and I was just hoping the teacher would have enough mercy on me to give me a C. I kinda slacked, and I turned 2 papers in way late-one was over a month late, and both of them were turned in just days before the final portfolio was due. I just prayed for favor and that the Lord would have his way. I read through the comments on the rubric, "variety-yes! good choices on audience! good choices on forum! voice definately presents own ideas! good critical thinking skills!" There were lots of exclamation marks. Portfolio grade: 88% B. Course grade: B. Expression of gratitude: gradeless. . .lol

Here's to hoping the rest of my to-do list and day go just as well
*Cheers!*

Cual Expresion?

Cuss, scream, shout
girl, just let it all out
kick and cry and fight and scream
show them what you really mean

Hush now
swallow those tears down
choke it up,take it like you're tough
noone knows when you cry in your soul

Grab a paper, grab a pen
write those feelings down and then
read it to yourself, share it with a friend
Even if only you can comprehend

Feel release and ease of stress
allow yourself to express yourself
in actions, introversion, or some verbs and
then move on with life.

I'm Exhausted

It is officially time for my body to get a rest. I am becoming fatigued ya'll. I have been pushing my body so hard. I've been staying up late at night in the library working on papers and projects, waking up and going to school early to work on more stuff, going to class, going straight to work, then going back to the library.

I'm even at the library now. And I'm tired. I'm so tired that I can't even see the screen very well and I certainly can't focus to do my work.

In other news though, I finished my portfolio for photograpy today. (YAY!!!!) That lifts a little burden off of me. Tomorrow my English portfolio is due (BOOOO!!!), but once that is done it will be a relief too. That is, once it's done.

Update:
I still haven't heard ANYTHING from Knox College, what is really going on? Honestly, from the bottom of my heart, I almost don't even want to go there anymore. They are playing games with me and I hate games. I'm about ready to settle and join "Redbird Country" lol.

I saw Mike George today! I was going in for work at The Buckle and he was in there. I don't think I've seen ol boy since high school, so it was a nice surprise. He's doing well in school (3.0 GPA) and he's going to Bethune-Cookman College in Daytona Beach. Lucky bum. I told him how lucky he was to be going to school in a good climate, and he said "It's hot down there!!" I said "So?? It's cold here. We just started getting consistent nice weather." Do you know what that N*gga said? "It gets cold in Florida too! We got down to 40 degrees!! And then we're by the water too, so we have the cold air coming off the water."

Okay dude. First of all, I know Florida is not getting colder than the Midwest. Second of all, you can't tell me NOTHING about cold air coming off of water until you spend a couple of winters in Chi-town. Bloomington Blackfolks done forgot where they came from. . .lol

Speaking of where I came from, (how many of ya'll know where this is going? :D), sitting here in the computer lab, I see this african guy walk in. (muahaahahahaaaa!) He looks around for an open computer, and I notice he is smiling HARD. I swear, this is the most hardcore smiling I've seen all day! He comes and sits right across from me, and for the first 5 minutes, we kept glancing at each other over our screens. When I feel his eyes on me, I literally have to fight not to look at him back, cuz then he'll see me and think that I'm just looking at him just to be looking, but I'm really only looking because he is. *phew* He has nice skin though, and very gentle eyes. . . ok, ima quit :D

I am still exhausted, but with the help of my Pepsi Vanilla and relieving some blog-worthy thoughts, perhaps I can work.

In Need of a Miracle

So, I just got done calculating what my GPA could be for this semester. This is not good my friends. Throughout the semester, I completely forgot that my scholarship wants me to maintain a 2.5 GPA each semester. I was going about, trying to do my best but I just gave up here at the end. I decided to drop out of my stats class. Not drop the class, like before the deadline, or even withdraw, nah, just decided to fail out of it. HOW COME NOBODY STOPPED ME????? I didn't know what the heck I was doing. At least if I would've stuck it out I could've gotten a D and that would've helped my GPA a little bit. But no. My guitar class, had lots of trouble with that too. Almost dropped out of it too, but I recently emailed the teacher and pretty much begged him to let me reconsider my decision. So there's hope for me to get a D out of that too. So, calculating best-case scenario, I'll either get a 1.7 or a 1.94.

The difference between the 2 depends on my interpersonal communications class. The teacher and I have a good bond, I've even given her marriage and parent counseling (you know how I do). If I can get my B to an A, I'll be that much closer.

Even still, a 1.94 isn't a 2.5!!!!! My hope is that they don't go by the semester GPA, but by the cumulative. If they go by the former, I will lose my scholarship!!!!

I'm in need of a miracle. I'm just going to pray, do my best to finish these last papers and projects, and trust in the Lord.

A part of me has peace about this. Getting worked up will not change my situation, it will only add more stress. Besides, I know everything happens for a reason and there may be a reason why I'm going through this.

Another part is beating me to a bloody pulp for being so STUPID and unfocused and not passing all 18 of those hours with at least a B. I should be able to do this. How could I be so incompetent? Especially with a SCHOLARSHIP on the line! DOOFUS...

The last part is telling me it's not fair. It's not fair that I have to work and go to school. It's not fair to have so much on my plate. It's not fair that I have to be a first generation college student, going about this thing so blindly. It's still my fault, but it's not fair!!!! How come nobody told me the things that could've helped so much (besides "that's way too many classes")?? whyyy :(

I'm trying to hold to the peaceful part of me. Nevertheless, I am in need of a miracle.

Conversations With Myself

conversations with self
one-way dialouge channeled into creativity
but noone hears waht I'm sayin
because they're not me
so I just
converse with myself
repeating the thought, repeating the thought, repeating the thought, repeating the thought
making the most of a minimalist
then I write it down
its like a list
and maybe format it
CAPITALIZE it as I prophecy it
making the most of a minimalist
noone but me can tell the difference,
which is why I converse with myself
needing to let go and just be
comfortable with me
from the color of my skin and my nappy hair
to my innermost desires and feelings felt when I find someone who cares
and noone but me really hears what I'm sayin
but I talk anyway,
having conversations with myself
repeating the thought, repeating the thought, repeating the thought, repeating it
making tedious dots of a minimalist
it's only me who's hearing this.
-Lyric

it was so considerate
and it meant so much to me
when she took out a stick of gum
and gave me half a piece

And even though at times she says
the most random, blonde-headed things
she listens when I talk

Back In The Day, When I Was Young- I'm Not a Kid Anymore, But Some Days I Sit and Wish I Was a Kid Again. . .

Recently, HumanityCritic did this GREAT post about childhood toys. I could relate with some of the toys, especially the BigWheel, but seeing as I'm probably at least 10 years younger than he is, I have a list of my own childhood toy memories. The late 80's/early 90's had so many good toys (even though I never got some of these, they bombarded Saturday Morning cartoons and my friends had some of them). . .

Klick Klacks
Or at least that's what we called them in Chicago. Man, this was one of the best toys I can remember. There was one stick in the middle, and on each side there was basically a triangle attatched to a ball. The goal was to move your hand up and down, and make the balls hit each other, making a "klick klack" noise. If you weren't good at it though, both triangles would just swirl around the stick and there was no klicking or klacking goin on.

Skip It
I wanted a Skip It sooooo bad!!!! I still remember the song "Skip It, Skip It. . The very best thing of all/Is there's a counter on the ball/So SkipIt! SkipIt!" You stick your foot in the little circle part, and then there's a stick (or a rope, depending on what version you had) with a ball on the end. You would make the apparatus swirl around your ankle and when the stick part would come to your foot, you'd have to jump up (skip) with that other leg so it wouldn't hit you. Yeeah, my SkipIt was a hula hoop. If you know what I'm talkin about, then skip on witcha bad self.

My Buddy/ Kid Sister
This is DEFINATELY 80's. My Buddy was the boy, and Kid Sister was the girl. Now that I think about it, they didn't do anything special, they didn't even look too cute, but MAN I wanted one. Maybe because they were marketed as that cool toy you could just take anywhere and actually kinda 'hang out' with. All the commercials showed the little girls playing tea party with Kid Sister, and the little boys outside chillin with My Buddy. They were pretty big, so that made them even more 'real' I guess. Also, at the time I didn't have a sister, but I wanted one, and what could've been better than Kid Sister???

Even though all those toys were great, and bring back great childhood memories, nothing beats a good ol' double dutch rope (a.k.a. clothesline lol).
"G-I- Gipsy, where she been? She been around the world and back again. . ."
"D-I-S-H/D-I-S-H-/D- for double dutch/I-for irish/S for single (?)/H-for hops. . ."
"12 times 12 is a hundred-forty four/When the bed breaks down you can do it on the floor. . ."

Jump rope rhymes and hand games, thats a whole nother post!

Silentium!
-Tyutchev

I found this song yesterday, and apparently it's a negro spiritual. When I read it, it literally brought tears to my eyes, because it captured the feelins of my whole day, and really of so many times in my life. My favorite is the second stanza. I have declared Silentium! as my anthem.

Silentium!

Speak not, lie deep, do not reveal
Things that you wish or things that you feel;
Within your soul's protected mine
Let them ascend and then decline,
Like silent stars in heaven bleak;
Admire their sheen-but do not speak.

How can a heart be put in words?
By others-how can one be heard?
Will people know what you live by?
A thought expressed becomes a lie.
Don't muddy springs that are unique:
Drink from their depth-but do not speak.

Live only in yourself encased;
Your soul contains a world of chaste,
Mysterious thoughts, which outside noise
Robs of their magic and destroys;
The rays of morning make them weak-
Enjoy their song but do not speak.

Poema

Married Man

Look at that
Married Man
Man, with no ring on his hand
Decieving
my mind into thinking
that he could be mine again.
But, he's a Married Man
Man, with no ring on his lovely hand
no wife on his arm
still possesing that charm
that I appreciated once he was gone.
That Married Man
Man, with no ring on his hardworking hand
man etched into my emotions,
sketched into my skin
man that I made love to
And yes that man is him
Yes, he
is
that Married Man
A Married Man with no ring on his hand.

Well Lift Me Up!

I went to this powerful motivational workshop today that has so far lifted me out of my dark phase. David Lewis, a poly sci instructor at my school led it, and he is so awesome! He talked about goal setting and tips to success.
Here is a recap/sneak peek into the workshop

"It is never too late to become what you might have been" -George Elliot

• Sometimes we hang on to the "If I woulda"'s, but we have to hold on to our present, not regret the mistakes and missed opportunities of our past and work to form our futures. As I always say, "You can't change your past, but you can always affect your future."

4 types of people to surround yourself with:

1. People who believe in you before you believe in yourself.
2. People who support you.
3. People who have your best interests at heart.
4. People who are optimistically positive.

• Concerning #4, David said that, "Nobody cares when you're having a bad day." This is true. People want to be around others who make them feel good, and can uplift them when they are having a hard time with life. In turn, you want people to want to be around you because people are a road to success. You can't go anywhere if nobody helps you get there (can I get an amen?)

Notes:

Concerning failure: There's nothing wrong with falling down, the crime comes when you stay down.

People don't care how much you know until they know how much you care. (sounds a little cliche, but its true)

The laws of success are no respectors of person. (it doesn't matter who you are, where you come from, you can succeed)

Get good at what you do. There is no such thing as luck without hard work! Opportunity knocks on everybody's door, sometimes we just don't open it cuz it's disguised as hard work.

The workshop was so timely. I was going crazy and everything was getting to me, but now, I feel SO much better and ready to take life head on (at least for the rest of the semester).

*sigh*-that one is for relief.

ok, it's all about this 8 page paper that was due last Monday. WHY CAN'T I GET PAST PAGE 3??? I have writer's block to the extreme, and I blame it on one factor in my life:

Fear of Mediocrity

This, if not anything else, is the cause for 95% of my procrastination and inability to "reach my full potential". I loathe mediocrity. It is the hidden locust that buzzes its ugly song outside my window, mocking me, taunting me because it knows I can't find it, crush it, and bring an end to its song. Whatever I do (academically at least) I want it to be not only my best, but the best. In this english class, I want my paper to be better than anyone else's in the class. I want my teacher to think "This girl's got TALENT!!", and I want to feel that it's true.

However, once again, I find myself at this computer for hours making no progress.

On another note, I went to Chicago this weekend. I almost left Friday without packing any bags or telling anybody, following the spirit of a true vagabond, however all trains and busses had left town, and a sista was kinda broke anyway. . .

But Saturday, I went. Going to Chicago always puts me in a reflective mood, which especially helped because I was taking some pics for my photography class. I think about how different the CHI is from any other city I've been to. It truly has its own unique culture. My goal was to capture the essence of the hood. Why did I choose that? Because that's where I came from, that's my roots! Besides, the "ghetto" and the hood are some of the most misunderstood concepts among Americans of all colors. Most people never get to see the hood, so this is my present to them. It's like a presentation of that which is at the heart of me. But alas, I know they won't be provoked with the same feelings I get from it. Does that once again bring me back to that nadir of mediocrity?

*sigh*

Thursday Haiku

Forgot my guitar

And supplies for photo class.

'Nother day wasted.

Recap of the week:

Monday-Felt like I'd already been through the week, and needed a weekend. Finally remembered to send more paperwork to Knox. Bought a cool shirt at work for only $2 and enjoyed spending time with 2ra.

Tuesday-Got so caught up in classes and work that I missed a much-needed appointment with my advisor concerning graduation. Will I walk??

Wednesday- Thought I would have an emotional breakdown and spent the whole day fighting and swallowing tears, only to allow them to release in a flood as I drifted to sleep. Decided it was me against the world, so I'd better man-up.

Thursday- Woke up and laid in the bed for about an hour without moving. Decided not to take the much agonized over Stats exam and just fail the class. Gee, everyone thinks I have an attitude. Emotionally I feel cold as ice.

Dayum. Three weeks until the end of the semester, so much wasted time in that stats class. I got shafted when it comes to my teacher, some new guy who gets so excited about math that he forgets he's teaching a class of people who know nothing about stats. Over half the class has dropped, only 10 -15 people out of maybe 30 remain.

I'm watching how the stress of the end of the semester is taking a toll on myself and others. This is not what education is about. The stress is not from brain-overload of that learned; it is from chasing the grade, making sure all papers, projects, and other assignments are in, and are a reflection of everything supposedly learned throughout the semester. Final exams are a joke in themselves. All for the game of grades, but education, true education is not about grades. True education is about enligtenment and knowledge! Education is about empowerment! How can enlightenment be meausured solely by A's, B's, C's, D's and F's?? How can empowerment be placed on a GPA scale?? I suppose it would be too utopian to allow students to have a free mind, to explore ideas and academic solutions without the fear of what impact it would have on their 'grade'. Grades are a game and a joke. Students can 'earn' a grade in so many more ways that are contrary to the goal of education (higher education in specific) than they can by pursuing that which will open their minds. Does anybody see a problem with that??

GAWD.

Random Quote: "That which is reciprocated is often ill-recieved, much like vomit." -Lyric

Wednesday Haiku

Week almost over

"Hang in there" is what they say

Schoolwork is my noose

This next one goes out to all those students climbing that (rope) ladder of success.

*snap, snap, snap, snap*

Hang in There

You say,

"Hang in there"

Hang in where?

Hang in this,

the noose of defying that

ignorance is bliss?

I suffocate for air

as I "Hang in there"

dangling from that which I thought would enlighten me

only to suffer from the stress it brings.

"Hang in there"

Hang in where?

Hang in this

one thin branch on the side of that cliff?

first generation to take that leap

hanging here now,

they can't help me

"Girl, just hang in there"

Hang in where?

Hang by this

one fine thread of sanity

Just one strand, slowly unraveling

letting everything get the best of me

taking too much of a load, now my string is progressively breaking. . . .

If I let go I know I'm gonna fall hard

I hope the savior will catch me in his everlasting arms

And as I drift into what I know is the end

I pray he will revive me again.

But

looking at this rope, i guess i just forgot

it was meant for climbing, for hanging-not.

-Lyric

Tuesday Haiku

I don't understand

Girls afraid to talk to guys

I say bring it on.

(Sometimes I have to

Use my fingers to count the

Haiku syllables.)

Monday Haiku

There is so much work

If I don't make some progress

Failure awaits me

-Lyric

Once again, I have procrastinated myself into a ditch. Now I must struggle to dig my way out of it, and time is running short. What is it about school and me that produces such an adversion to work? Is this every college student's cry?

Speaking of college students, I have decided that there are only four major components to a college student's wardrobe.
Tops:
1. T-shirts
2. Sweatshirts (mainly hoodies)
Bottoms:
1. Jeans
2. Sweatpants (this category includes all pants that are made of cotton, or a cotton/polyester blend and stretch, usually with some form of elastic waistband. This is inclusive of Sweatpants, Yoga pants, and pajama pants.)
That, Ladies and Gentlemen is about it. Of course there are some minor deviations from this i.e. tank tops, mini-skirts, and shorts.

Back to work, maybe making a list of mi tarea will help me see it more concretely than just talking about it.
2 Papers for English
2 Papers for Communications
1 Project (almost done) for Communications
1 Project for Statistics
1 Test for statistics
2 Papers for Music Appreciation
1 Assignment for Photography
1 Project for Photography

The only way I can conceivably diminish this pile of work is to make goals, and take it one bite at a time.

Let's get crunchin'!

By the way, Lyric is my decided coffe-shop name (Big Ups to HumanityCritic).

Please come find me
look for me
search for me
and tell me where I am

How far have I gone now?
Am I close to the end?
Am I losing the game or
Do you think I might win?
Can you please come find me
And tell me where I am
Then point me to that red X
Marking the spot where
I begin my success
Open that treasure chest
To find that I can really be my best
And transgress
The expectations of those who keep me lost

Look for me
Search for me
I was last found under the Knowledge Tree
Learning about the world, the ills of society
Questioning God, questioning me
Struggling to gain sight of my destiny
Looking so hard, but failing to see
I know over there is where I came from
And I haven't forgotten
That I've only come this far thanks to those breaking their backs to pick cotton
Should I
Backtrack my steps and try this journey again?
Hell no! To go back to the beginning is to reach my end
I've come too far to go through all of this again
It's taken blood, sweat, time and tears
Facing adverstity and facing fears
Listening to my peers with fingers in both ears
Learning from experiences, mistakes and sins
Still running, looking behind me while so much of life dissapears
I've come too far to go through all of this again.

You can stop looking for me
Don't waste the time
Because this life is not yours, this life is mine
Then I can proudly stand up and say
That I found my way
To that red X
Marking the spot where I began my success
I opened that treasure chest
And found that I really could be my best
And as for life, I'm ready for the rest.

I'm Feeling So

smothered
suffocated
immobile
powerless
bound

I've had some time to think.

Okay.
It has been about 4 hours since I found out that Max got married.
At first, I was *_* mad stunned. Literally as if I'd been hit with a stun gun, frozen with the incapability to produce thoughts of feeling.
Now I can think a little more and I need to express these feelings.

I feel a little sad, not only because he is with somebody else, but he is with somebody else PERMANENTLY. Marriage is such a big step! And WHY didn't he tell me he was engaged BEFORE we 'engaged' ourselves in our own thing? Isn't that weird? I mean, technically he had someone else, although they kinda weren't together. So did he cheat on her or not? Am I just sloppy seconds? Anyway, back to the sadness, him being married means that I can never (rightfully) hold him in my arms again, be held in his arms again, kiss his full, delicious lips again. . . NEVER. I am determined not to help this man be an adulterer, cuz please believe it can happen. I would hate for my man to cheat on me, whether I knew it or not, whether I was in the same country or not. I don't want to do that to another woman.

I feel unconcluded, because there were and are SOOO many things I never told him about how I felt about him. Now, none of those feelings matter, because he is a married man.

I feel like telling myself (for the second time this week) "It's not fair!!!!" But you know what, it's not about me. It's not right for me to be selfish, but I am a part of this situation and therefore do have resulting emotions.

I feel a little jealous. Not sure of whom though.

Mostly, I still feel shocked. To me, marriage is such a big deal. I'm a little bit in denial and fully aware of it. is that strange?

This is all so new.

He's the Numba #1 Stunna. . . . .wha. . .wha. .wha. .what. .WHAT????????

Making small talk.
How is my mother doing? Fine, working a lot.
My sister, oh, she's having some trouble in school.
How is work? Oh, you get 2 days off a week now? That's good.
*awkward silence*

How is your um. . .fiancee. . .girl. . .person?
Oh. *sheepish grin* *pause* My Wife.
Your. . .Wife? *not comprehending the english language*
Yes, I got married.
WOW!!! YOU GOT MARRIED?? Well congratulations!. . .(followed by a host of questions, are you going to bring her here, etc)

"We wear the mask that grins and lies"
It was a Halloween Mardi Gras Masquerade up in that mug.

He's a MARRIED man now. Imagine that.

I am not upset, I knew he would not, could not, should not always be mine.

I am however stunned to the point of no return.

This is all so new and weird.

I'm not sure if I believe it. I'm not sure if I want to believe it. This is all so new and weird.

He's married.

I wish I wasn't fat

Right now, If I wasn't fat (and If the sky wasn't turning dark with clouds forewarning the thunderstorm, and if I didn't have a class to go to, and if I had some better gym shoes on) I would go running. I feel like running right now, running so fast, running for my life.

Not on a track though. Running on a track is running in circles and I'm not quite in a running in circles mood.

I would like to run either on a trail, like a beaten path type of trail, or just in some natural place. I wanna run so fast that I feel the still air turning into wind on my face, and it cools my whole being. I wanna run so hard that every muscle in my body is exerted to its fullest capacity, not even minding if I sweat (but I won't sweat cuz I'll be cooled by the air). I wanna run with such a rush of adrenaline that although my body is working to the maximum, arms and legs pumping like crazy, I'm not feeling the least bit winded. I wanna feel like my feet are barely touching the ground. I just wanna run.

But I'm a lil too fat for all that, so I'ma just sit here at this computer screen, mabye eat a pack of donuts lol.

I also feel like writing. I wanna write words so powerful that they draw the reader in with each and every single sentence, every single word, every single letter. I wanna write the words that move the masses, that motivate the citizens of the world to action to better their lives and the condition of life as a whole. I wanna write the words that prick and provoke those feelings of the heart, just as a pin pricking a finger. I wish I could write where my audience would feel and identify with every anguish, struggle, heartache, joy, pride and satisfaction. I want to write with such humor that brings alligator tears of deep laughter to one's eyes, causing that laughter that comes from the pit of the stomach and is felt throughout the whole body; foot-stomping, stomach cramping, hand-clapping, eye-watering, barely able to breathe laugh. The power of words and communication is amazing.

I want to be beautiful. Not pretty, not foine , definately not cute. I want to posess that inherent beauty that captivates, even merely from my posture and the way I carry myself. That beauty that lets everyone around me know that I am a queen, noble and virtuous, yet maintaining a deep sense of humility and compassion. Non-intimidating beauty that draws people in like a magnet, causing me to be that person that people just want to know. "What is it about her??" type beauty. The beauty that mesmerizes when I walk into a room, beauty that makes my conversation both intellectual and well-thought, yet down to earth. Beauty like the sunset that ends the perfect day, only to lead to that sunrise of the next.

I think I have a long way to go, I mean, even the most precious of the elements (i.e. diamonds, silver, and gold) must be refined. But even before their refining, their most stunning qualities are already present.

A Stumble in My Walk

You
have become like the rock in my shoe
I never invited your presence
You just invaded my space
and created a stumble and a limp
in a walk that should've been full of grace.

But you,
unlike the rock in my shoe
are unmovable.
I cannot simply put a halt to my struggled stride and
remove that shoe
and shake out that rock-you
and continue my life's journey happily
because you
are a part of me.

Life Has A Strange Way

A strange way of what? Just a strange way. It's so complex (do we make it that way or is it just that way?)

I'm tired. I'm tired of being sick, I'm tired of school, I'm tired of my jobs, I'm tired of being broke, I'm tired of being bored (bored meaning nothing exciting going on, not nothing going on), I'm tired of this rock in my shoe.

In other news, my father is supposedly coming to town this weekend. I will believe that when I see it, but I am much more anticipating my letter from Knox which should be here this week. I thought about calling them, but I'm scared to. I'll just wait. Anyway, back to my father. I kinda feel sorry for him. I was thinking about it, and I'm pretty sure that he doesn't know how to be a father. His father was never around when he was growing up, so maybe he just doesn't know what to do. I think people often think that parenting should come naturally, but if you look at half the parents out here, we can see that theory disprove itself. So, I think it's pretty sad that he doesn't know how to be a father. That is helping me to have a little mercy on him. Thinking about him coming to town, I have this image in my head of me taking him out to dinner (yes, refusing to let him pay) and telling him so much that's on my mind. He wouldn't be able to go anywhere, and I wouldn't let him change the subject like he does on the phone. He would be at my mercy MUAHAAAHAHAHAA!!!!

I would tell him all the things he doesen't wanna hear, starting with how upset I am with him because of him not being able to be a productive member of society, if you know what I mean. (note-making liscence plates does not count as being productive). Then I will move on to how his absense has affected me, both negatively and positively. That will be a great lead-in to the Max issue, which will be the main kicker.

Now this, I have a script for.

Oh My Goodness Lawd

You have GOT to read Humanity Critic's latest entry. Classique.

I'm Scurrrreeed!

Last night I was in one of my creative moods. It was about 11pm or so and I started making some jewelry. I came across these charms I'd bought a while ago, and they all say the same thing: Follow Your Heart.

I sat there for a while thinking about those words, and what they mean to me. I thought about what my life would be like if I "followed my heart" all the time, and I think it might actually be more fulfilling. That fulfillment, however, would come at it's price because following my heart would surely land me on my butt lots of times. I never did like falling. . . That's why I can't ride a bike now.

When it comes down to it, I'm scared to follow my heart. I feel much safer following my mind, which more often than not doubts my heart. When you follow your heart, you do that thing that you want to do without rationalizing or weighing the pros and cons (which I do way too much of). Following my heart would have me picking up that phone and dialing those 7 digits that just may lead to a little piece of happiness in my life. Following my heart could also lead to my embarrasment and woe.

That's it. Following one' s heart is a black and white thing. Rationality leads this great grey area of uncertainty, but following the heart either produces good results or bad. Either you will be lifted up, or you will fall on your face.

Follow your heart.

Why follow your heart? Who says the heart is always right? Couldn't following your heart get you into a load of trouble?? Who or what gives the hear authority to lead which way to go?

But maybe I could try it. Just for one day, follow my heart, or maybe for a week. It could be an experiment! You should try it to, and we can log our experiences. It could be called the "Follow your heart project".

Who's in?

I Remember When

I remember when you told me that you were fond of me. I looked you in your eyes and told you that I already knew. When you gave me that classic "whatchu talkin' bout Willis??" look, I managed to surpress my laugh. You asked me how I knew. I just know these things, like so many other things I "just know" and like so many things you "just know" about me. I looked you in the eye and smiled because you looked so cute and baffled then.

I remember then.

Blog Hopping has its Benefits

So I was blog hopping today, and I didn't get very far when I found the most hilarious thing. It's a "translator" of sorts. It translates your text into Jive, Valley Girl, Pig Latin or "Swedish Chef". I had some fun with my writing and the translations.

I know de day gots'ta come
Dat ah' gots'ta see him wid anoda' one
And ah' gots'ta wonda' if she be likes me.

What it is, Mama! Will dey do de wahtahmelluns dat we dun did?
Will dey kiss de way dat we kissed?
What dun did ah' do wrong t'lose him?

Maybe she gots'ta be mo'e decisive dan I
Maybe she gots'ta easily part ha' dighs
Allow him t'love ha' wid no hesitashun

I hope dat she gots'ta be
All he wants's and needs
But dat he gots'ta still consida' me special.
(my favorite is the "what it is mama?")

(T, think of that French accent with this one lol)
Efee zee sters vere-a sheening
egeeenst thet bleck felfet ooff zee sky
joost es hees lufely iyes elsu shune-a veet oonly her refflecshun in zeem
tu let her knoo
thet she-a ves reelly zeere-
a letteeng her meend dreefft beck tu thet neeght
vey tuu cluse-a tu Peredeese-a

Ohh, fun fun fun.

There is another poem idea I've been having in my head lately. If I don't write it down, I might forget it, but if I do then I might not get in the mood to write the poem. hmmmm. Let me just say that it's about how my name is long and usually doesn't fit on the line. lol suspense? I hope so. . .

Today I'm in a quite melancholy mood. It all started in photo class where i firstly got a bad grade on an assignment (40/50) then also a bad grade on the quiz (14/20). To top it off, I had left my other roll of film I needed to develop at home and the one I did develop had very few good shots and my negatives got messed up anyway.

Then. . .
My interpersonal communications class kept talking about me. The teacher was making us talk about feelings in different scenarios. Scenario one: You see your ex with another 'lover', how do you feel?

Awwww Daaaannngg!! I was just having a conversation about this with somebody. Is this a forewarning to prepare myself for the heartbreak? I know that one of these days, maybe soon, I'm gonna see him with someone else, and I seriously don't know how I'm supposed to handle that. It's odd, because I never considered myself as loving him, so why am I feeling so much for him now? Why do I miss him? Why am i concerned about his well-being? Why do I not want to see him with another woman?

I know the day will come
That I will see him with another one
And I will wonder if she is like me.

Will they do the things that we did?
Will they kiss the way that we kissed?
What did I do wrong to lose him?

Maybe she will be more decisive than I
Maybe she will easily part her thighs
Allow him to love her with no hesitation

I hope that she will be
All he wants and needs
But that he will still consider me special.

A Poem for Tura

she is captivated
with everything her mind associated
with him
so frustrated
by not knowing which way to go and what to do with
the thoughts and feelings for him
letting her mind drift back to that night
way too close to Paradise
she and her Prince oh so charming
kissing under the moonlight
Even the stars were shining
against that black velvet of the sky
just as his lovely eyes also shone
with only her reflection in them to let her know
that she was really there
letting her mind drift back to that night
way too close to Paradise
struggling to fight
that feeling that she felt when he kissed her oh so right
"Come to Paradise with me" said he
but she just couldn't fathom and believe
that this could really be
That her Prince, oh so charming
on this perfect night so close to Paradise
was offering the first kiss of her life
and taking her breath away
she couldn't fathom and believe that it could be.
And though it was, she didn't want to see.
So she never went to Paradise,
decided to stay on the safe side of life
and not walk on that ledge leading to a place a little too perfect
and now,
she is captivated
with everything her mind associated
with him
so frustrated
by not knowing which way to go and what to do with
the thoughts and feelings for him
letting her mind drift back to that night
way too close to Paradise

Open This Mic

Last night Sonia and I went to an open mic event at ISU. It was quite interesting. I can't really say that I liked it all that much, because it was quite unorganized and a lot of the time seemed like they didn't know what the heck to do, so people were just chillin on the stage, making jokes and unusual comments. However, a couple of good things did come from it.

(this song is a bit paraphrased)
1: "When I first saw you, you was looking too cute and I turned to my boy and said. then he said, 'naw dawg, I heard she got the sauce and something, something something."
anyway the chorus was something like
"I only like mild sauce on my fries, you got that venom in your thighs"
The song was so funny, and reminded me of at least one person I know. They had lyrics in there talkin bout "I saw you coming out the clinic with a bag of perscriptions" and "You need to cool your loving down." There are definately people who needed to hear that song.

2. This one was a blessing in disguise. One guy got on stage, I don't know if he was supposed to be a comedy act or what, but I didn't laugh one time, and NOBODY clapped when he got off stage. All he did was show his ignorance. He began to talk about the issue with Matt Hale and how the judge's family died, and how he didn't care. He even said he wished that more of them (meaning non-blacks) would die. He ignorantly ranted about how no autopsies and investigations were done when Martin Luther King Jr. died (which is not true) and how those who died in this incident got what they deserved.

I was ticked OFF. So, I went home and wrote a poem :D

Rebuttal to a Fool's Words

"I wish more of them would die"
the first of fool's words
to cause me to turn my head and ask "why?"

The words, too soon spoken
and not well chosen
to bring harm to another's life
just because it's not a brother's life?

And the brother's life and death you do defend
your rationale I cannot comprehend
because Martin Luther King's will was not that to kill
but to step back and be real
And see each other's colors
let go of what history did to our brothers
let go of massa raping our grandmothers
let go of hostilities held toward one another for things gone by
Let go of that rope and fly, brotha, fly!
fly into that dream of Martin Luther King's
fly into that day when race would not be all things
because we all come from lines of kings and queens
Adam and Eve grandfather and mother of ALL human beings
don't revert to old ways of thinking
For we have come this far by faith
yes, the mountaintop is surely in our view,
but how, brother how, will we reach it
when more than a few think like you?
We must let go to fly
and to fly, yes we must try
and we'll try and we'll try
and we just might get it right
Then we
can live that dream of Martin Luther King's
free at last of color-bound hostilities
And brotha, it starts right here with you and me.

BOO YOW!

Have you seen him?

It's been ten months
Didn't wanna give him the time of day
Then he made his way into my world
And changed it-in a special way

Now, here I am changed
A new creature indeed
Enlightened to the ways of the world
But he is nowhere to be seen

Now I see all of his friends
They seem to know my face
We laugh, and make conversation
But it still doesnt ease my pain

I know I can't erase the memories
Though I do admit I've tried
I think things can work themselves out
But is my thought a lie?

Oh, I see his car everywhere I go
On the street, and even at the picture show
Have you seen him?
Tell me have you seen him?

Oh, I see his face when I close my eyes
In the day, and even in the night
Have you seen him?
Tell me have you seen him?

WHYYY OHH WHYYY
Did he make me make such a mistake??
Ohhh ohh ohh, I'm confused
And I don't know what to do
And I'm lost, baby I'm lost

Oh, tell me will I see his face again?
Cuz right now, I just wanna be his friend.
Have you seen him?
Tell me have you seen him?

Have you seen him? (you better tell me if you see him)
Tell me have you seen him? (and tell him I'm thinkin' bout him too)
Have you seen him? (. . I just wanna see him)
Tell me have you seen him?

I just lost a whole LONG post. You know I'm mad.

I'm not sure how you did this, but I'm kinda mad and glad that you did. I think about you often, I'm not afraid to admit, and my heart beats sorely when I do. Who ever knew? Who ever knew that you would come into my life and turn it upside down before I even realized what was going on? Who ever knew that I would fall asleep and wake up so many times with you on my mind. Just thinking of how you're doing, wondering if all is well, wondering if you might be thinking about me too. Its kinda funny when I think back on the earlier days, I didnt wanna give you the time of day. Now you take way more than your share of my thoughts, but that's alright with me. When will I see you again? Will we get to talk again? How are you anyway? Do you miss me? I miss you.

Who woulda thunk it?
My mother and I were having a conversation last night, about nothing in general, then she dropped the bomb on me.

Do you know where your uncle works?
Um, wasn't he working doing construction or something?
Not anymore lol.
What, is he a stripper now or something?
No, but you're close.
By this time I'm getting a little worried. Uncle man is my FAVORITE uncle, we go wayy back.
What does he do???
He works in a factory. A porn factory.
WHAT?
My uncle works in a porn factory? What kinda stuff is that?? I didn't even know they HAD porn factories. I guess my mother found out when they were talking one day and he was mentioning that they'd have to do inventory. She asked how often inventory is done, and he said whenever the bosses think someone took something or stole some toys. My mother was like "Toys?? Where do you work?" And that's when the truth was revealed. Man, my family is weird.
My mother also told me about Uncle Man's crazy girlfriend coming to my grandmother's (his mother) house at 1 or 2 a.m.
Miss Wynn, Miss Wynn! Kenneth said he's gonna kill himself!!
So? If he's gonna kill himself he's gonna kill himself. What am I gonna do?!
But miss Wynn. . .
Don't ever wake me up again for no mess like that!

This woman did not even care. Turns out my uncle just wanted the woman to leave, but she wouldn't so he said something about turning on the gas or something. . .
Just crazy.

Lyrics of Life

Sometimes a song is so good just because you can really relate to it, or you know someone that it describes.

This one reminds me of T-Bizzy
She has no idea what she's doing in college
That major that she majored in don't make no money
But she won't drop out, her parents will look at her funny
Now, tell me that ain't insecure
The concept of school seems so secure
Sophmore three years aint picked a carreer. . .
(Kanye West)

These remind me of me
But as a shorty i looked up to the dopeman
Only adult man i knew that wasnt a broke man. . .
(Kanye West)

I am ready for love
Why are you hiding from me. . .
Lately I've been thinking
Maybe you're not ready for me
Maybe you think I need to learn maturity
They say watch what you ask for
Cause you might receive
But if you ask me tomorrow
I'll say the same thing

Thinking the faster that I go
The faster that I will reach my goal
The race is not given to the swift
But to the one who endureth. . .
Slow it down baby
you're goin' too fast
(India.arie)

This one reminds me of S-money
I've run out of answers
I've run out of time
And im so confused that im loosin my mind
Its gonna take a miracle to help me this time
I'm traveling a road that has not one sign. . .
Oooh sometimes its hard to face the truth so we run. . .
I need an angel
Im calling an angel,
send me an angel (Send it on down)
(Ruben Studdard)

Questions
. . .Can I pinch your cheeks? -Dante
Now what kinda question is that? Do you seriously think thats an ok question to ask? Who asks that?
First of all NO.
NO because I'm not 5 years old
NO because I don't know where your hands have been.
Second of all, thanks for asking first, but. . .NO.

What is wrong with my head?
I've been having this headache for THREE WEEKS NOW!!!! It won't go away :-( I'm tired of it. And it's not like a regular headache. It's like a forehead ache. It feels like I've been holding my head in one scrunched up position and its tensing and cramping up. Maybe I get cramps in my head instead of my stomach? I don't know, but it's not cool and it's not going away, and its making me miserable.

What is really wrong with my head?
I'm not superwoman. I don't think I can actually take 18 hours AND work 3 jobs AND do church activities AND stay sane. Maybe I'll end up in the nuthouse, or maybe just on drugs. But, before it gets to that, something's gonna have to give. I don't want it to be my sanity.

Where is it?
I lost my strawberry ChapStick and I'm too mad. I'm really hoping I don't find it in. .oh say, the WASHER or God forbid, the DRYER. That would not be good. I love that stuff. I love to keep it in my pants pocket so that when I put it on its warm from my body heat and it glides on nice and smooth. And the fragrance is so nice. . . where is it?
I also lost 2 of my favorite pairs of underwear. How does one loose underwear? Beats me, but I want them back.
Who knows where my class ring is. I gave up on that one.
And what about all my freakin socks? Now, I've always been so very particular about my socks, but lately I've really let myself go. I've started wearing 2 totally different socks, as long as they're the same color. Who cares if one's an ankle sock that keeps falling in my gym shoe and the other is a knee high stocking? I just don't anymore. I'm not even ashamed to admit that I've been grossly going sock-less a few times, and even worse, last week I wore the same pair of socks for like, 3 days. In a row. Feel free to get me some socks.
And I know I had some more belts.
And I coulda SWORE I had more church clothes. Something is up. . .
********I might as well go au naturel as far as clothing goes. Wait, no. Bad idea.
Where is my cousin Jerome???
Where is my acceptance letter from Knox?. . . .
Where the heck is my PIN from FAFSA? come on people, march 1 is coming up soon!

Thank you for being so attentive to my issues.
I love you! *HUG*

*pulls self together*

I tried to pop some popcorn after my music appreciation class today. I took the stuff out after only 2.5 minutes, and somehow it was miraculously burned. Now I REEK of burnt popcorn, and i'm so embarrased. I need to go stand outside.

Other people's blogs just aren't as good as your own. This is the conclusion I have come to. Maybe it's because I'm a person who can be highly critical, maybe I'm just right, but I'm truly convinced that other people's blogs aren't as good as your own.

Your blog is personal. You know what you meant to say when you said what you said but didn't really say what you meant to say *breath*. You know how you really felt when you blogged about whatever situation, and your readers only know how you told them you felt.

Your blog is your story. When you read it, you remember those good times/bad times and it takes you back. Memories are always a good thing, and your blog holds your memories.

Your blog is read by your friends. You can have personal jokes to no end that noone else will understand but you and that blog-reading friend you share that joke with. There's nothing like that. Outsiders can read it, and it won't make sense, and your blog may even be labeled by them as 'crap' (as I have labeled some blogs), but if it's crap, it's your crap, and nobody's crap is like your own.

That said, I love my blog.

So, for those of you who care (which includes those blog-reading friends), Max and I finally had a talk and (tried to) put everything out on the table about our 'situation'. I don't know if we accomplished much, but I sure do feel a LOT better. Now I can breathe. (okay, yea I was breathing before but you know what I mean)

Photography class is going pretty well, do you want me to take your picture? Cuz I would love to! Just don't get too 'posey' on me (and you know who I'm talking to). I want something natural. I want something genuine, not a senior picture. sheesh

Congrats to:

Tura, for moving out. Need anything? just ask me! And know that I am proud of you.
Randy, for getting a blog. Welcome to our blogging community, I hope you enjoy the experience.

Tis all people. Till next week?

T-bizzy, S-money, and I took a picture with a VAGINA!!!! hah. 

Because You Don't Understand

I wish
that i could open this box
and you could peer in
and every pain i feel as a result of you
would swarm your head
and get in your eyes and ears
and blind you
and attack you
and make you feel
like i do.
I wish
that you were on this side of the fence
and you could see how crazy you look
and hear how irrational you sound
and feel what about it makes me cry
and that it was you who
could not explain it either.
I wish that you understood.
I wish
that i could give you a magnifying glass
the size of the earth
so you could see the scope of this problem in my life
then maybe you,
with all the answers
and all the justifications
could tell me what to say
could tell me what i should've done
could tell me how to explain it to you
I wish
that i could cuss you out
and feel better
I wish
that your eyes could be opened
to this, the sun of my problems
and I wish
that I could steal your precious sunglasses
and I wish that you were exposed,
bound and naked to that sun
and that you would feel the heat
and that your eyes would squint
and that your skin would begin to scorch
and your poor eyes would burn, and sting
and tear.
but wishes get me nowhere.

Oooooh, guuurl, your friend is so cute!

If I hear that one mo' time. . .
See, that's exactly why you don't introduce some friends to other friends. The first friend, Kabah. The other friends, every female friend I have. Now, what in your right mind makes you think I want you talking to me about how cute my friend is? Don't you think I know he's cute? Don't you think I think he's cute? That's why he is MY friend, not yours! No, I'm not gonna give you his number, and NO I don't want you callin him to see if ya'll can hang out sometime. I don't even wanna hang out with you and him, all 3 of us. Leave him alone. Don't be askin if he' s over 18 so you know he's legal. And no, he's not your type. He likes females with a full set of healthy teeth. And you only like guys that you can look up under the Illinois Department of Corrections, and my dear he does not have a record. He is kind and deep and writes excellent poetry. He enjoys someone he can have a nice intellectual conversation with. You are not his type.

That's all I have to say about that.

Promised Land Tea

I likes my tea with milk and honey
now, come here baby, wontchu fix some for me?
cuz I'm tired, all day I been standin' on my feet
put that milk in my tea to soothe me to sleep.

6 o'clock in the morning
come on baby, fix me some tea
I got a long day's work ahead, and a short night's sleep
put some honey in there to make my day sweet.

Yes, I like my tea with milk and honey
how many times you gon' ask me??
Fix it up right, now. Don't mess up my tea
Lets both sit down and have a cup, and you can tell me your stories

I'll nod my head and smile, but chile' I won't be listening
I'll be too caught up in the taste and smell of my honey milk tea
See, it reminds me of the promised land-you know, land of milk and honey?
And the little piece of peace this tea brings makes it just right for me.