2011 VMAs-Beyonce Steals the Show!

MTV could have brought out Lions&Tigers&Bears (Oh My) last night at the awards, but nothing would have been more exciting than the surprising news that Mrs. Beyonce Knowles is PREGNANT! Jayz and Beyonce are inspirations to all. It's refreshing to finally see a couple who has been together for years, are both independently successful, and finally starting a family after being married for a couple of years. I always admired the way Beyonce and JayZ operated, they didn't conform to the traditional Get married and a year later have a child, what they did was enjoy the marriage life, they enjoyed each others company, they vacationed together, they built a strong bond within the marriage and now while the time is right they are bringing a whole new life into this world. I am soOo OVERJOYED! Beyonce has been my girl ever since my step sister came to visit from California and put me on to the Writings on the Wall cd, (Although i've been an advert fan since No No No No) and I totally feel as if my older sister is finally having her first child. I feel inspired to do it the way she does, she is really setting the right example for us all, first the career, then the marriage THEN the Baby Carriage.
Maybe this generation will have more Bridal Showers than Baby Showers after all.

DID You Know...

Did you know that you can buy Essie Nail Polish online for less that $2. I'm sure shipping and handling is included but thats nothing when drug stores are charging you 9 dollas +tax for nail polish...Good Ol' Amazon.com

My reality check of a day and "The Help"

Last week Friday was a Reality Check...for one it was the last day of work for a summer youth employee(at my charity semi-job) who I grew to love and appreciate. In remembrance of his departure and the wonderful work he performed, the office decided to throw him a pizza party. The party was delightful. We enjoyed Pizza and Salad while all attention was on Isaiah. One of the questions the heads of the department asked him was what he was going to do with his life and/or future and he responded "I want to go to Penn State like Kydee...to study medicine." I was honored and so happy that my conversations with him could lead him to such a decision but I didn't expect the attention to be turned to me. Next thing I knew a swarm of questions were being asked all at once..."So you went to Penn State" " When did you graduate?" "What was your major" "What are you going to do with the rest of your life" When I answered the questions with confidence (being so used to this type of interrogation process by now) exclaiming that I planned on going to law school and am currently filling out applications during this break from school, I was approached by the big dog. A beautiful brown face just like mine with shaven gray hair and an ostentatious air about her, who was the second in charge in the department. She went on to say "Which school are you trying to get into" My response was "Right now I don't know but I am reaching for Georgetown in D.C" the following is pretty  much the dialogue from that point on:
Her: Oh wow Georgetown is a pretty hard school to get into, very competitive, what was your GPA
Me: (face blushes from embarrassment of the boldness of that question and I embellish my gpa of course, just to round it hehe) 3.4
Her: You do know they start from 4.0
Me: Ummm
Her: you better have a hell of an application and a lot of other things going for you because that school is competitive and a lot of people apply with higher gpas 
Me: UMMM...if I was to have that mentality i would remain stagnant and stuck and afraid to apply for anything...all law schools are competitive so ummm...
Her: well can you at least write
ME: Im a great writer...but I know I can get into this school despite what you think
Her: ok whatever you say
Pretty much after that you could cut the tension in the room with a knife. I was shocked and stunned that this woman had the audacity to call me out in front of a room full of people to tell me I couldn't follow my dreams and go off to a school that I really wanted to go to because of my GPA. Who did she think she was? To make matters worst this woman, a black woman just like me chose to knock me down as opposed to encouraging me and offering her help or blessings. She's older so I know she been through a lot and she knows how it is to be a black woman in society yet she chose the route to hate on a younger black female than to encourage her. I was disgusted. Clem (my semi-boss) called me into his office because he was disgusted as well. He noticed how droopy my cheeks were (my face reveals all my feelings) and told me "Kydee you have to understand that you are a threat! Your young, gorgeous, fresh faced and smarter than i don't know what...you have the whole world at your fingertips don't get discouraged" I revealed my anger to him and as a black man he completely understood; we went on to discuss the state of the African American race and why we don't just support each other but constantly feel the need to compete against each other like animals. After I left the office, I went to meet my mom and brother so we could see "The Help"
The Help was heaven sent. It not only exposed the state of the African American community in the Jim Crow South, but the sisterhood and bond between our community that was necessary in order to survive such hardship. Watching that movie I felt the pain of our race during that time, the degradation and the treatment as second class citizens or even worst animals was really hard to watch. However the beauty of the movie was the sisterhood between Aibileen and Minny who had a laugh to prevent from crying mentality that so many blacks also had to cope with their situation. I loved the support that they gave to one another and after watching this film, my faith was restored. Instead of being mad at this woman who tried to shoot my dreams down, I decided I would just pray for her because the unhappiness she has within herself could have easily been passed on to me but I won't allow it. I used her negativity from that day to make a promise to myself that i would never get stuck in a job or a situation that I am so unhappy with that I couldn't possibly be happy for someone else. I'm sure I am going to have to deal with worst people than her in this world that we live in. Reality Check: I am officially in the real world.

Fall Style Alert: Ankle Strap Pumps

Snake Skin...My Fave of all Faves

Im Happy that Snake Skin is out for the Fall!!!! I still have shopper remorse from two years ago while I was in Zaras I seen the most beautiful Snake Skin strappy pumps ever! They were funky to say the least...any way I left them, told myself I would never wear them and have been thinking about them ever since...Ill never make that mistake again. 

Summer is over but...where was I when these came out???

The Oxford Shoe

Not really into these types of shoes but these particular Oxford Flat shoes in Bronze are really adorable

If I want to know the trends, I go to....

Viva au Natural REVOLUTION!

I am almost positive that when “The Little Rock Nine” became the first students to integrate a segregated high school in Arkansas, they didn’t know they would shape history and the future of the civil rights movement. Neither did four college students who sat at a Woolworth lunch counter in Greensborough, North Carolina believe that their act of civil disobedience would make a huge contribution to the generations after them who can now eat peacefully at a restaurant despite the dark hue of their skin. Although the decision to go natural may seem like a personal one for many, I believe that a revolution has begun.

In a world where men glorify women with fair skin and long straight hair and women so deep in their insecurity that they respond to these unattainable beauty standards with long blonde weaves, blue colored contacts and bleached skin, its almost like a breath of fresh air when I see a woman walking up and down the streets looking like a young Angela Davis or Pam Grier in “Foxy Brown.” Now don’t get me wrong, I love weaves and I appreciate them with all my heart but the natural hair community of beautiful brown sistahs are taking a stand. A revolution of some sorts where naturals are not conforming to the standards of beauty predisposed to them when it comes to their hair. As a black girl, our views on hair are pretty much all the same: we yearn for straight and long hair (with the exception of a few girls of course). Yet we are all born with beautiful kinky/curly hair. After watching television, movies and flipping through the pages of magazines we see white women having the luxury of straight hair. Even going to school and admiring the brown-faced girl with the long permed hair, we become dissatisfied with our own kinks and desperately yearn for straight.

I remember being in first grade when this desire for straight hair hit me. I begged my mother for a perm because of this one girl in my class got her first perm and came back to school with hair that was so long and beautiful. I figured if her hair could grow down to her back over the span of a weekend then I wanted a perm so mines could too. Of course my mom said “NO” but she definitely said “Yes” to pressing my hair which meant countless Saturday mornings in the kitchen as she straightened my kinks and burned my ear to pieces, a routine that almost all African American girls can relate to. After a while our mothers get tired and give in. Perms become the answer but for some women the wrong answer.

Fast-forward to 2009, when “Good Hair,” a Chris Rock documentary made its debut. I guess I’m going to be frank when I say Good Hair is a film that I absolutely hate. The title automatically fragments our race by who has what society deems good hair and who doesn’t. I don’t know where my detest for this documentary comes from because I typically love documentaries but there’s a possibility that I hate it because I watched this film in a African American studies class in which the class make-up was predominately white (more on the ironies of Penn State classes later). The Caucasian majority couldn’t and would never understand the struggles of exactly what it meant to be an African American and to be a female. They also didn’t understand the pressures that black women face that would lead them to sew a weave or to perm their natural texture. Most of all I hated Chris Rock who happen to be a brother, our brother for exposing black women dirty little secret consisting of the extra mile we must go through to be seen as beautiful in the eyes of society. Still, what I do respect from this film is that after its premiere, a number of women decided to embrace their natural roots.

I personally never understood the choice to go natural until recently. I used to look at India Arie, Jill Scott and Erykah Badu with respect but in the same token like foreign aliens because shaving your hair bald or wearing a afro was so subversive and not the norm. Now as I am older, wiser and more enlightened, I know that these ladies were brave women. They were brave enough to embrace who they were despite the judgment they may have faced from the world. They were brave enough to see their natural beauty on the inside before the outside, in a world where skin color and “good hair”are elements of acceptance in society.

We may not know it now but the Natural Hair revolution is in full force. More and more black women are on the streets rocking fro hawks, afros, and twist-outs. Black women are shedding their weaves and their perms and telling the world “IDGAF ABOUT WHAT YOU THINK OF ME BECAUSE I KNOW I AM BEAUTIFUL.” They are shedding the stereotype of black hair being unable to grow and showing us all that natural hair can be long and healthy without the perm. Naturals are walking into corporate America with their braid-outs, while other naturals in their TWA phase are standing tall, with their bright make up and huge earrings demanding their own beauty to be seen. The Afro in the 70s was a fad; it came and it went but for some reason I think black women today are starting their own movement. We are tired of having to meet Eurocentric standards of beauty. We are tired of being told we are not pretty enough or our hair isn’t good enough; we are tired of succumbing to the creamy crack or endless hours in the salon chair as we hide our own hair to sew in someone else’s. We want healthy hair and we want it NOW! Thus a revolution has commenced and this time it will last longer than a decade.

VIVA Au Natural Revolution!

The Baby Mama

This is going to be short because I don’t want to indulge too much of an opinion on this issue but the misconceptions I hear about "Baby Mamas" tend to be insanely false.I must say that unlike many I sympathize with the Baby Mama…I repeat…I sympathize with the baby mama for the following reasons:

(1)  Baby Mama—The title

I absolutely abhor the name “Baby Mama” because of the negative connotation that comes with this title. However there is nothing wrong with a woman who choose to have a child and not dispose of a life or give that life up for adoption. Although I am pro-choice and I am not being judgmental by no means, society is way too hard on the babymama’s selflessness; she knows that the road may be tough and that she may struggle but a potential life is worth more than a little hardship. When you think of a baby mother you immediately think of a neck rolling, money hungry sapphire but that is not the case. There are a lot of decent women out there who happen to be someone’s baby mother but still holds her own in the realm of a career or financial independence. What a lot of woman need to understand is that being a baby mama does not define who you are as a mother and a person; its just a distasteful title that should not be tolerated.

(2)  A baby mama’s intention are to bind themselves to a man is not necessarily true

For some women loving a man can make you do some crazy things. While men are thinking in the “right now,” women are thinking forever which can falsely lead a woman to believe she can keep a man by bringing a child into this world which is completely and utterly wrong. With those intentions a rude awakening is bound to come, but this thought process does not encompass all baby mamas. Some women want nothing to do with their baby fathers. Other women just want their baby father’s to spend time with their child. All in all, not all baby mamas have the intention to trap their men.

(3)  Unconditional Love

The first time I fell in love I experienced a love that was totally different from the love that I felt for my family. The first time I become a mother I am positive that the love will be on another level as well. However there are many women out there who have never experienced real love from a father, mother or even a boyfriend and they believe that motherhood could fill that void. I personally believe if unconditional love is a women’s reason for having a child then that’s her prerogative. It’s her body and her life and a search for love does not make her a bad person or a fool.

I’m sick of the judgments that come along with being a “baby mama.” Not all baby mamas are going to suffer and live horrible lives on welfare. A lot of these women that we degrade with the title of baby mama are our very own independent mothers who made sacrifices without the help of a man so their children could thrive. The same women we degrade as baby mothers are getting their degrees, working full time jobs and maintaining households in spite of their responsibilities. Ultimately I would love to be a part of a generation that is having more bridal showers than baby showers. However the perfect nuclear family is unfortunately not the fate for everyone and being a baby mama is not a death sentence. It’s a chance to be a mother and role model to a child that will seek protection, support and nurture from you and that’s a beautiful thing.

But where are the men: The absence of a committed black father

When I see a father pushing a baby stroller, particularly an African American man, I smile. This is only after I double take because the sight is gratifying but extremely rare. Growing up in Brooklyn, single parent households were the norm. I was almost resentful that I didn’t fit in with some of my friends who were products of single parent households because my stepfather stepped in a year after the untimely death of my father. However unlike myself, there are still countless amounts of fatherless African Americans who grow up with a void in their hearts as a result of a broken home.

I always wonder where are the men?

The man is there when he first approaches a woman to say hello. The man is there for the first kiss with this woman. The man is definitely there for the intimate times with this woman. But God forbid pregnancy or an STD comes into play the man just totally disappears. Women are left heart broken and abandoned. If you don’t believe me watch one episode of “Maury.” These once intimate couples are now on national television showing the world how much they hate each other; the woman is screaming “he is the father” and the man is screaming, “she is a slut.”

So I ask where are the men?

Where do men go after they abandon the mother of their children? To another woman? Do they start another family and actually have a lasting impact on their lives or do they become a rolling stone like The Temptations once declared. I am currently talking to a guy right now who is the epitome of a great father and no one can tell him different. He stepped up to the plate to take responsibility of his child and to break the cycle of abandonment that is far to common of the fathers in our neighborhood.

There are so many black men out there who grow up without a dad and mothers are left to play the role of both mother and father. I never understood the logic of it being a mother’s responsibility to raise a man; a mother who is a female herself and completely socialized to be a different kind of human being is responsible for teaching a boy how to become a man. The world is holding the woman accountable and the man gets a Get out of raising your child free card. Once again the burdens of the world and our race is left on the black women’s shoulder just for the simple fact that she is strong enough not to break.

Where are the men?

Essentially, whether a woman wants to believe it or not men are relevant in the raring of a child and they need to let them in. Having a companion who is there to support, encourage and listen to you while sharing the responsibilities of maintaining a family is very necessary. Raising a child and having a family without a real man in my life scares the heck out of me. As feminist as I try to be, I still have traditional beliefs of what my future should look like and that includes a nuclear family in a home with the combined incomes of me and my hubby. It’s time for men and father’s particularly to stop making themselves an option and becoming the priority in their children’s lives. 

Desensitized to Hollering

Walking along the streets of New York can make the most unattractive girl feel beautiful. There’s always that construction worker, that dope boy on the corner or that high school junior who thinks he has a chance. Men are socialized to “holler” at a woman when they like what they see. Women are socialized to play hard to get, try to ignore the comments and continue with their day. The new way women cope with the sometime unwarranted attention is by plugging in their head phones and turning the volume up high.

I want to believe the first time I got hollered at on the street was at age 11. Coming home from junior high school, I never looked older than my age but the boys on the corner talked and I ignored them in fear of this new unnecessary attention I was receiving. After a while as a Brooklyn girl, hollering becomes a part of the norm once you step outside. Around age 13, was the first time I was cursed out because I refused to respond. By age 14 Franklin avenue boys decided to throw water on the girls that walked by. Of course innocent ol’ me was hit in the cross fire on my way to picking up my 8^th grade yearbook; as a result I went to school drenched. By age 15, around the same time of year (June), En route to my house the same Franklin avenue boys decided they wanted to throw water on me and my friends because we refused to speak to them. Lets just say that did not end up pretty. All in all getting hollered at is one of those things that come with the territory of being a New York woman, no matter what color, age, or race you are. Some women grow so accustomed to it that when a guy doesn’t give them the attention they are used to on a particular day they start to question if they look good or not. While other girls get jealous if their friends command more attention from a guy while walking down the street. I want to believe that this is normal for most. Right?

On the other hand, getting hollered at can be a form of objectification and in terms of the extreme cases, sexual harassment. When a woman chooses to wear something sexy she should be able to without being looked upon like a piece of meat with the cat calls ranging from “YO BABY” to “Your butt looking right in those jeans.” Whatever happened to the times when men addressed women with respect, not calling her out of her name or calling her to his car? If a guy wants to give me a compliment I can admit it does brighten my day, but the line is crossed when they grab my hand, follow me to my apartment building or make a huge disrespectful scene if I choose to ignore them. Even worst than the whistles, sly comments or dog attacks is the silence you encounter when you walk past a group of men. Just silence and stares; Ahhh! Pulling my hair as we speak. I never knew getting hollered at was a form of harassment until a couple of months ago. I was sitting in one of my last women studies classes that I would ever take as an undergrad, when my classmates were presenting a project on the horrors of sexual harassment. In typical fashion they addressed harassment in the workplace, Clarence Thomas and Anita Hill etc., but they went on to address hollering on the street. At this point in the presentation I was intrigued. I always knew that the hissing, whistles and comments about my derriere were distasteful but I had become so desensitized to hollering as a normal part of life that I never questioned if this was an actual problem, until now. When a line is crossed, you will know it. When someone touches you or follows you home that’s a problem. Even worst if we continue to allow men objectify us on the street in an unpleasant way we are ultimately making the situation worst for our daughters. I love the compliments, but I will be a fool to disregard that sometimes these guys go way too far with their hollering schemes. 

Bachelors Degree or a MRS. Degree? You Choose!

The beginning of my summer consisted of me setting up shop in my living room with my MAC in hand applying to numerous jobs day in and day out. Cover letter after cover letter, and resume after resume. After a while this routine got tiresome and stressful. I didn’t know the stress was knocking at my door until one day my grandmother made a comment that did not particularly sit well with me. Lets just say I went nuts. It seemed that my measly old bachelor’s degree was not the only degree that I should have returned home with. My grandmother’s best friend believed I should have balanced my efforts at attaining good grades with finding a mate/future husband. She specifically said I should have dated an engineer at Penn State. I was infuriated. Even if my grandmother’s idiotic friend said this, I felt that my grandmother must have believed it too or else she would have never repeated it. Was this really happening? Was a MRS degree also needed in addition to your bachelor’s degree for people to think you were truly a success story in college? Was I really just told my only reason for going to college, spending thousands of dollars in tuition and slaving away night after night over books was solely to meet a man. After sitting in numerous women studies classes where the MRS degree conversation definitely came up, I was always proud enough to exclaim that my matriarchal household including my mother, aunt and grandmother did not expect such traditional standards for me until I was ready. Although I am very content with my single life, I finally got the first slap of reality that deems the cycle of a woman’s life includes marriage and children whether you liked it or not and if you chose to opt. out on such expectations your almost looked down upon as inadequate.

As a black woman we are taught that we have to compete extra hard to attain status that other genders and races are handed on a silver platter. Our grandmothers and mothers taught us to be strong, intelligent and most of all independent. They taught us to be get our degrees and become success stories because these were opportunities that they were often times denied. Yet not once in our socialization from a girl to a woman did they ever say to chase a man, get married, get pregnant and depend on this man for the rest of your lives. And not once did they ever say you need to find a man while in college. But once we become too content in our studies and the inexistence of a love life is in the back of our minds, the alarm for concern starts ringing and the pressure to graduate from school, find a decent job, excel at this job and keep a man becomes apart of the expectations that our society predetermines for us. Yikes! 

D.I.Y Project--Feathered Earrings

Heartbreak

Love. My mama warned me against the horror of doing drugs, drinking alcohol and the consequences of having sex before I was ready but my mama never warned me about Love. Love, this beautiful disaster that came into my life unannounced, swept me off my feet, showed me a deeper way to love and left so unexpectedly.

Sometimes I feel true love never dies because although I am able to carry on with my life unaffected by the loss of an amazing relationship, to this day I still love him and I don’t believe that, that love will ever fade away. It wasn’t the valentine’s day cards or the love letters that illustrated the depth of my love for him; Essentially it was post break up, the exact moment I realized me and this significant other would never be the same and would never love in its purest form, that it hit me we are really over. I was devastated and it was honestly one of the hardest things I ever had to deal with. I remember being locked up in my room for days upon days, without eating and I had an unrelenting desire to be in darkness, even as the summer sun shined so bright. I listened to Boys II Men on repeat; Four seasons’ of loneliness to be exact because I was sure loneliness would be my fate, “Remember the nights when we closed our eyes and that meant you and I would be in love for all times.”

However back then there was one lesson that I was never taught, I actually had to learn it for myself. The first time I see tears fall on my daughters face I will always remember to tell her these words of wisdom “They always come back” and this is very true. Even if you have moved on to another person and you both are living happily ever after, they always return, so unexpectedly but right around the time when you have reached a peak of happiness. Whether you take them back or not is your decision, but they will return so no need to shed tears and waste your pretty.

He's Just not that into you

I tried with all my heart not to like this book but for some reason around chapter 8 I had to let my guards down and realize that Greg really did  know what he was talking about. Of course I noticed some things that were reminiscent of one of the relationships that I had which ultimately resulted in me finally coming to the realization that he wasn't into me (after two years) but what is noble about this book is that the authors warn you of the early red flags from the beginning (first date) so you won't waste your time or your pretty. I received some great insight into the mind of a man and this book also made me realize that my tolerance for the next man that does come into my life will be low because I really don't have time for the games. The following is some advice that I took away from this book:


Cut your losses and don't waste your time .  Why stay in some weird dating limbo when you can move on to what will surely be better territory?


Calling when you say you're going to call is the very first brick in the house you are building of love and trust.  If he can't lay this one stupid brick down, you ain't never gonna have a house, baby.  And it's cold outside.

Beware of the word "friend".  It can often be used by men or the women that love them to excuse the most unfriendly behavior.  Personally, when I'm picking friends, I like the ones who don't make me cry myself to sleep.

Every man you have ever dated who has said he doesn't want to get married or doesn't believe in marriage, or has "issues" with marriage, will ... rest assured ... someday be married.  It just will never be with you.

A man who wants to make a relationship work will move mountains to keep the woman he loves.

First Saturdays-Brooklyn Museum!

I started going to the First Saturdays at the Brooklyn Museum this summer and lets just say I will be in attendance at these events forever!!!! Sometimes I look around at my neighborhood in awe because I feel so blessed to literally have The Brooklyn Museum, Botanic Gardens, Prospect Park and the Central Grand Army Plaza Library literally as my back yard. I would always hear about first saturdays at the museum, but being the grump that I am was never really interested in going until this summer when I decided I would be way more open minded about attending public events especially when it pertained to the culture of my wonderful borough. The museum's activities on first saturdays are outstanding, the party, the culture, the music, the live band, the music, the food, the music, the activities, the movies, the music. Im just in love with this place. In the month of July I went with Melissa P and Sherma which was a blast. However the last time I went to first saturdays in August I went alone and I must say the experience was amazing. Although I was literally an individual in the midst of couples and groups of friends, I was able to appreciate all the museum had to offer on my own time, doing my own thing and meeting fabulous people. It was amazing and every time they have this event I will make sure I am there.

The Beauty of Love Jones

Never in a million years would I have thought Love Jones would reemerge into black pop culture as heavily as it did recently. Commencing with the 2010 BET awards, Lorrenz Tate and Nia Long graced the stage with their reenactment of their noteworthy movie. Half the crowd reciting the exact words to Darius Lovehall’s famous open line “ Say baby can I be your slave” while the other half of the audience are completely lost because they never saw this underground classic for themselves. Nonetheless, the real plug came when Single Ladies hit the scene and the main character Val, a hopeless romantic insinuates that Love Jones is her favorite movie every chance she gets.

 Love Jones for me was one of those films like Waiting to Exhale that I would throw tantrums at 8 years old because I was so desperate to watch it. Of course I was rejected and denied by my overly protective mother. But when I finally did get a chance to watch it and appreciate it, I learned that this movie is a classic urban love story about Nina Mosley and Darius Lovehall, that ensues after the first night of great passionate intimacy. Both Nina and Darius didn’t want to admit that their connection could result into love let alone love at first sight, which was the case when Darius felt compelled to change the title of his poem to “A Blues for Nina,” essentially capturing the heart of the film from the start. Love Jones exposes an alternative Neo-Soul group of educated black people who entertain intellectual conversations, have great friendships, and the ambition to reach their “highest potential.” They congregate at “The Sanctuary” which is an underground spoken word club with Afrocentric roots which add to the raw reality of the film.

The beauty of Love Jones, however is not the physical and mental attraction between Darius and Nina. Nor is it the ending of the movie where Darius and Nina reunite in an attempt to live in the Now and recapture their love. For me, the eloquence of this film is that you finally see a man fight for his woman, not in the physical sense but fight for love. When Darius rides his motorcycle through the streets of Chicago and chases after Nina’s train to New York he could no longer deny his feelings for this woman. He caught the “jones” and there was nothing he could do about that but fight for what he wanted. In reality we rarely see this kind of “fight” for love. I believe our generation gives up on love to easily. We literally have an “on to the next” mentality when we should be questioning if we are letting real love pass us by. Essentially the elements of this movie is what makes it one of my favorite and it really defies description. 

When Chickenheads Come Home to Roost!

Just finished reading "When Chickenheads Come home to Roost,"by Joan Morgan which is a creative work of Genius! My favorite chapter was entitled Chicken Head Envy which addresses the jealously that strong, independent, educated and classy women have against chicken heads, also known as the sapphires from the hood that love to mess with the local dope boys, and use their bodies to get ahead. Classy females conversely do it the hard way by getting an education, accumulating loans and struggling in a white mans world with the joy of being able to say that they did it on their own, independently! This book goes so much more indebt than what I am leading on and I am really not doing the book any justice but I will make references to it in some of the blog post to come...GENIUS! GENIUS! GENIUS!!!

"Cuz us smart, good hearted, independent girls, we’re the best. We’re out there handling our business and conquering the world and we manage to be there for them too…We got their backs. We’re the ones they call in the middle of the night. We’re like their best friends. The only thing we ask for is for them to be their best. And then its the weak girls who they choose who do the things we wouldn’t dream of-" - Joan Morgan

Settling...Is that what you call it?

My book of choice for the summer has been a “Belle in Brooklyn” By Demetria Lucus. It literally took me two months to read it, not because I’m a slow reader, or worst illiterate but because I knew that the book was a work of genius, from the first page when she exclaims:

“The plot was always the same: a single black woman from a densely populated city clinging to a flavored martini, a Louis Vuitton speedy, and/or a perfectly coiffed girlfriend wondering where all the good men had gone (go to answers: dead, gay, unemployed, on the down low, in jail or with a white woman)”

Was she really talking about me? Was she talking about my friends? Was she talking about every black woman who is single and wondering where all the great men were? Whoever she was talking about I was hooked.

Well finally on this interesting day when I was sent back home as soon as I got to “work” I decided I would go home and finish this book. I turned on my Boyz II Men video collection DVD and slowly turned the last 40 pages of Belle.

The themes:

·  The Title

·      They all come back

Now these are two issues I’ve been dealing with since I was 19 years old. Now at 22, I am able to reflect on my past wrongs and work on not making the same mistakes with the next guy that I actually take seriously. But back to Belle, Demetria was dating a guy nicknamed TLA (short for teenage love affair). Everything was great until she interviewed Steve Harvey and he proposed, if a man really likes you he does three things:

ü  Protect

ü  Provide

ü  Profess

TLA and Demetria’s relationship was going great; he was a protector and he was the provider however the only thing he did not do was profess. Professing his love for her to the world, as in giving her the title. When she finally gained the courage to ask why, he said financially he was not where he needed to be. I’ve heard this excuse before and it sucks. Demetria goes on to write:

“ The intent is honorable. It’s noble. It’s totally old-fashioned and I’m totally in love with the idea. (who doesn’t just want the good life handed to them?) but frankly I’m looking for someone to build with, not someone who offers me the keys to the mini kingdom he’s already built. A man wants to give me all? Really, I just want him to do like Mary J Blige and ‘give me you’”

Eureka! I knew Demetria and I were on the same page. What most guys fail to understand is that a woman, if she is your woman, can be right by your side and be willing to provide. If and when you need her she can be there, sometimes financially, sometimes just to listen to your rant and rave about your day or sometimes as that companion that you can sit back and watch the game with. The beauty about relationships is that you have someone to grow with. Most guys’ feel like the world is against them and they have to suffer through the harsh realities of it alone; but that’s not the case if you have the right woman by your side. To men the title might seem like a shackle around their neck that holds them back but for a woman the title means everything. It shows that her man is claiming it. That he wants his woman all to himself and would rather loose all his privileges of freedom than risk another man snagging what’s already his. When I was denied the title a year ago, I nearly went nuts. I started doubting myself to the utmost extent. My once secure self became extremely insecure and I became obsessed with trying to prove to him I was worth the commitment. After a while this behavior became exhausting and I hated the desperate woman I was becoming. No man is ever worth altering your personality so he could like you more. I had to come into terms with the fact that maybe he just wasn’t that into me and after a two-year run I had to let him go, while I still had an ounce of dignity left. I was settling in this quasi relationship because although we had tons of great memories, amazing conversations and I knew he generally cared about me, he didn’t care enough to give me the title and that’s essentially what I was looking for. The title! If you want it then your worth it and shouldn’t ever settle for less. If he doesn’t want it move on.  But sometimes I wonder, is there really too much emphasis on the title? 

The Computer Charger

I spent the whole summer practically drooling over my ex.boyfriend Trey. Going out on weekends, attending after work events on weekdays and even making the effort to text each other more. We were great friends. I asked all my questions and received all my answers. The chemistry was there but there would be no part two to our once upon a time teenage love affair. I was so content just to have my friend back. Through the years we literally went through our ups and downs. Sometimes we would love each other and then turn around and hate each other. So when he revealed to me he would be going to visit his home country for two weeks for a family reunion, I immediately tried to figure out how much time that left us to just “kick it” for the rest of the summer. The night before his departure he came over to chill and essentially say good bye. He asked me to show him how to download music, the legal way of course(since lime wire cease to exist anymore) and that question was followed by “ Can I borrow your computer charger?” I said “Sure” being the good friend that I am. I figured he would just use it for the night and give it right back to me before he left, Right?

That night I waited up for him to call me until 1 in the morning. No Call. I went to sleep reluctantly because I wanted to make sure I heard his call if he wanted to return the charger(how foolish of me).I woke up at 5am and felt compelled to remind him that he needs to return my charger. The text exclaimed “Trey I will kill you if you take my blasted charger.” 8:48 the next morning he text back to say “Chill I’m not taking your charger.” That was two weeks ago and Im currently left with no charger and a dead Mac. While he’s vacationing, I’m left stagnant which means:

·      No applying to law schools.

·      No asking professors for recommendations,

·      No applying to jobs,

·      No updating my blogs,

·      No communication via internet

I’m just left with my thoughts and my notebook. What I have come up with is that he is irresponsible, inconsiderate and selfish. Lord knows if this was a couple of years ago I would go HAM, but since I have matured a little, I am trying to think of a nice way to explain how beyond insensitive and careless he was and is.

Thus, my infatuation with my ex is over. I’m snapped back into reality and I am reminded why we aren’t together. Who would have known all this clarity would of came from a computer charger or lack there of. 

Cuffs!!! Ahhh

The Sky Room

Summers in NYC for the 21 and over crowd consist of rooftops, all white affairs, and nights that equate amazing memories a year from now. I personally wanted to spend my summer afternoons in a fraudulent way; attending after work events although my current employment status was null-in-void. I decided to go to The Sky Room alone being that summer was winding down and we were already in the second week of August. Independently attending this event after being rejected by one of my friends after she learned the cost to get in would be five bucks(no judgment here times are hard) would be empowering or so I thought. I walked into the venue and went straight to the bathroom. I replaced the flip-flops on my feet with the unusually high wedges I always bring to events that call for height and a more adult feel. I tipped the bathroom attendant and walked to the bar with ten minutes to spare and to enjoy the free drinks. I asked the natural hair sistah to the left of me what she was drinking because it looked delish. She responded “ Bicardi Dragon Berry with Cranberry juice and yes it is delish” She also suggested that I ordered a couple of shots with the drink so I could be really “nice.” With five minutes left to spare I attempted to get the bar tenders attention to no avail, he blatantly passed by me three times. So my natural haired friend got his attention for me and he responded“in a second.” Three minutes left to spare and the bartender’s overseer of a boss closed down the open bar exclaiming her watch said 7pm. Now as a person who keeps her phone in hands at all times I found this hard to believe because my clock said 6:57. This lady was a trick and a liar and I hated her. It was official I was not feeling the sky room at all.

 My natural haired sistah-friend and her girlfriend offered to by me a drink but I declined. No use in them paying $15 for a drink for me when I hardly even knew them. I walked away and sat on a couch in front of a window that overlooked the beautiful New York City skyline. The photographer took a few pics of me and I waited for Danielle to come save me from my misery. Seeing D walk through the Sky Room doors made my day. I was reassured that I wouldn’t have to go through this experience alone any longer. We went upstairs to the bar and once again the two bartenders paid us no mind…I began to wonder were we invisible? I proposed to D that we saved our money and go to BBQs after. I then led her to the rooftop deck which encompassed a sea of young professionals in their mid-late twenties networking and enjoying the atmosphere. 

Gradually things began to look up. I immediately looked for seats by the bungalow but there were none so me and D decided to sit along a ledge next to a lady who seemed harmless and nonchalant. However once we sat down she exclaimed “Someone is sitting there” so Danielle responds “ I will get up when they return” in which he did but sat somewhere else to his girlfriends dismay.  One more awkward thing and I made up my mind that it would be time to GO! Me and D talked and looked around at all the wonderful array of people there ranging from Natural Haired sistahs, to the bald wall street suit and tie type to the blonde haired blue eyed fashionistas, diversity at its best. 

When we finally noticed a seat open by the bungalow we caught it before anyone else could. We took pictures and enjoyed the beautiful summer breeze until we were met with out last straw. A waitress approached us and asked if we wanted menus. D replied “No” and she rudely exclaimed “ well these seats are for those people who are ordering food and drinks, if your not then you cannot sit here.” OH HELL NAW! THAT’S IT! We left immediately and never looked back. Once we reached back down to earth (literally) we exhaled a sigh of relief from the snooty and snobby people we just encountered.  Not saying I would never go back to the Sky Room because the decorum was outstanding but lets just say it was not what I was expecting. 

Glamorized to Objectified: The image decline

Deep!!!!!!!!

Goals

Do you ever just sit back and think about the realistic dreams and goals that you may want for your life?

Day dreaming about my ex boyfriend and our wedding I must say recurs a lot. However this day dream lead me to think about my future and my ultimate goals in life…hmmm

Goal #1: Own a Home/House/Condo…but I’ve always wanted a pool

Goal #2: Own a Jeep…(BMW preferably)

Goal #3: Be Debt free

Goal #4: Get out of the HOOD!

Is it really possible to attain these things on my own without winning the lottery I could consider some other  options:

(a)   Going back to school to further my education (debt)

(b)  Write a book/Novel that I always wanted to do (uncertainty of success)

(c)   Husbands Money (Eureka! But what are the odds?)

(d)  Loans (debt.)

I thought long and hard. Maybe I can move to suburbia after my children reach a certain age. Kids these days are rotten, they don’t know the meaning of struggle if they are born in luxury (I’m super nuts for thinking so far along down the road in my future) Nevertheless these thoughts are ongoing in my head. You can never prepare too early for your life. At least now I have a goal that I want to work towards.