Digging Deep

Summer Thoughts

2011-06-30T18:46:00.000-07:00

I just finished eating Chinese food and drinking a glass of Lipton's peach flavored tea. I did this while sitting on my balcony, watching the sky turn dark blue...

On the way back from the Chinese carry-out I noticed lightening bugs. When I was a kid I loved those little creatures! As I walked through the maze that the lightening bugs had created for me, I thought, "They are beautiful." I wish that I could have had a friend there to help me catch some. Maybe we could have watched them in a mason jar only to let them go right before their lights started to flicker out...

I can't get Beyonce's "Party" featuring Andre 3000 out of my head. It's so 90's and funky. Every time I hear it, I imagine a skate party or riding on the highway with the windows down and the breeze blowing through my 'fro...

Looking out from my balcony I can see several trees. I've wondered on occasion what it would be like to sit atop one and just observe. Maybe lay back and stare up at the sky...

The second verse of Beyonce's "Rather Die Young" reminds me of the most intense part of Laura Esquivel's classic novel "Like Water For Chocolate". Beyonce sings,

You know I've been in love before

You're the first one I ever seen

That burns like gasoline

So light a match,

turn off the lights I'm holding on to you

'cause this might be a last night, oh

In "Like Water For Chocolate" the main character, Tita, has finally gotten to be with the love of her life, Pedro, on their own terms. There is no controlling mother to torment her. Her sister, who ended up marrying Pedro, has finally died. When Pedro and Tita get together it's magic! After their love making pushes Pedro to literally see the light at the end of the tunnel, Tita finds small candles and eats them in hopes of reaching the light that Pedro has found. When Tita sees that light, Pedro is waiting for her. Together their light causes a great fire! It's as if one were the gasoline and the other was the match.

(I know that was corny but you have to read the book and listen to the entire song! For real!)

Just some summer thoughts...

The Window Sex Project

2011-06-12T17:46:00.000-07:00

Hello All!

As you may or may not know, my sister Sydnie L. Mosley is a dancer living in Harlem, New York. She is presently working on a fabulous, inspiring project entitled The Window Sex Project! What is it!? I'll let her tell you below!

"Dear Friends,

I have launched an ambitious community arts project here in Harlem called The Window Sex Project. In short, I have created this project for women in Harlem to come together and respond to street harassment by using our bodies - the object of harassment, and our voices - what is often silenced, as tools to fight back and ebb away at a culture that allows us to be reduced to the sum of our parts the minute we walk out the door every day.

While the planning and registration for the community workshops is well underway with monetary and in-kind donations from Barnard College's Dance Department and Center for Research on Women, the YMCA, The Body Shop in Harlem, RINY Media, Hollaback! NYC, The Citizens Committee of NYC, INSPIRIT Dance Co. and more to come, I need to raise funds from individuals for the actual performance which I would like to take place in October or November of this year.

The Window Sex Project is a community based initiative, so I am reaching out to you, my community for your support. I need you to help me raise $6000 in the next 76 days. Ambitious I know, but more than possible! If you have the means to do so, please donate whatever you can. (It would be super cool if you could donate at least $50.)

I am using the crowd funding site RocketHub. Here's the link: http://www.rockethub.com/projects/1736-the-window-sex-project

It's just like KickStarter but cooler, especially because its headquarters are in Harlem. :) (I'm so committed to my local community.) Basically it operates on a TRADE not AID philosophy, that is, you buy into the project and receive cool rewards based on how much you donate. It's completely safe for your online transactions and it will give me the opportunity to produce this meaningful dance work."

I do hope that you donate to her dreams!

If you have any further questions about The Window Sex project please contact Sydnie at sydnie.mosley@gmail.com! She would love to hear from you!!

Your Daddy Loves You

2011-05-28T08:20:00.000-07:00

One day my Daddy turned on a song that has stuck with me through the years. He sang along with the husky voice that blared through the speakers over the light keyboard strokes with a soothing flute.

Now sweet lil ol' brown eyed girl, hey, now
Now that you're sleepin'
I've got a confession to make
Of secrets that I've been keepin'
Me and your mama had some problems,
A whole lotta things on our minds
But lately, girl, we've been thinkin' that we were wastin' time
Nearly all the time, and

Your daddy loves you
Your daddy loves his girl
Your daddy loves you
Your daddy loves his girl, hey now

Now sweet lil ol' chocolate girl
Now that you're sleepin' I feel braver
I've got a confession to make
I'll sneak it in while you're dreamin'
Me and your mama had some troubles
There's been a whole lotta things on our minds
But lately when we look at you, we know that we've been wastin' time
Damn near all the time, and

Your daddy loves you
Your daddy loves his girl, hey, now
Said your daddy loves you
Said your daddy loves his girl, hey, now
Your daddy loves you, and your mama, too
Your daddy loves his girl
Loves his girl
Loves his girl

When I took the time to sit and listen to the lyrics of this song, it was as if Scott-Heron had me in mind when he wrote it. It was as if he knew that's what I wanted to hear. I've always known that my Daddy loves me. But when I heard this song and listened to him singing it, I realized that I had a song to hum along with my knowing. Thank you Gil Scott-Heron for giving me a song to hum. A song to believe.

R.I.P. Gil-Scott Heron

The Golden Time of Day

2011-05-27T16:20:00.000-07:00

Summer for me has always been special. For so many years it was not just the long break from school, but a time when the family got together to do fun things. While we kids ran up and down the street, Cousin E.J. would be on the grill hookin' up some ribs. Aunt Sally would come in the house with Cousin Larry, carrying big aluminum pans full of chicken, baked beans, cucumber salad and her famous fruit pie (I have to admit I have yet to try it this pie, but everyone enjoys it. Maybe I'll do that this summer.). Then there were the times when Grandma would let me go out in the backyard to play with the neighbors and give me a plastic cup full of ice to munch on. Or when Mommy would sit out on the front steps and watch me ride my bike with no hands. At my Daddy's house there was always a BBQ going. He'd mix up his homemade BBQ sauce and slather it on the chicken and ribs that he'd seasoned perfectly.

I remember each summer, as the evening went along, there was a breeze. That was my favorite part of each day. As I've gotten older, that breeze still encompasses me every late Spring and every Summer. It's as if God is floating through the air allowing His Spirit to cool the Earth. While at Hampton I would take a walk to the waterfront and sit watching the water ripple beneath the boats and listen to the birds chirp. I would let the breeze blow through my hair while I thought of how blessed I was to be there.

Those summer moments when you can take the time to sit quietly. Those summer moments when you can watch the sun go down. Those summer moments when you can simply be.

Those moments for me are golden. The Golden Time of Day.

Rasheena and I at Buckroe Beach May 2008

The Big Chop

2010-08-10T22:20:00.000-07:00

New Years Eve 2009, I had my Aunt Tana give me my last perm- until further notice. I’d been toying with the idea of “going natural” for some time. My freshman year at Hampton University, Aunt Tana would come down to visit me every few months and perm and maintain my hair. During my sophomore year, I learned how to straighten my hair and lengthen the time between perms- something that I continued to do throughout the rest of my college career. I remember classmates always complimenting me on my hair; how silky and shiny it was. I appreciated that and took great pride in my hair regimen- even though it took about 5 hours to wash and blow dry the hair, grease the scalp and straighten the hair with my ½ inch Conair flat irons (the longest part). It was a work out! In early 2009 I purchased a larger Conair flat iron, therefore cutting the flat ironing process in half (probably less than that) and could usually have my hair done in about 2 hours flat! That was clearly a major achievement! Sometime after graduation I thought about growing my perm out because I was only perming my hair about 2 times a year. I figured if I could go 6 months without a perm, then I could go longer. When I began hanging out with 3 of my closest friends, who have been natural for years, I toyed with the idea even more. It was obvious that the maintenance was still necessary, however, it was even more obvious that without a perm, their beautiful crowns were full of thick beautiful hair. There were no excessive amounts of hair all over their bathroom floors and they never complained about how thin their edges were. Only I did that. Motivation.

So let’s fast forward to about 17 days ago, on a pretty cool Sunday afternoon. At this point, I’d weighed all the options of cutting my hair. Isn’t my head too big? What will I look like? It will be less work. I don’t want to look crazy! Will I have to wear make-up everyday? For several months, I’d asked my friends over and over again what they thought I would look like if I were to cut my hair. Some said I would look great while others suggested that I continue to allow my hair to grow out. Speaking of the growing out phase: I was all for it until one evening I didn’t comb through my new growth well enough, and ended up pulling out a great deal of my hair. I was devastated to say the least. After that fiasco, I realized that I was tired of the ponytails, hair pomade, brushing and pulling and excessive dryness all for the sake of having hair that touched my shoulders. But I still wanted my hair. Well after several trips to the bathroom to stare in the mirror, while pulling my hair back to see how I might look, and several stare downs with my little sister Dhaujee, whom I’d enlisted to give me the BC (Big Chop), plus one sentence from my mother, “She’s a punk.” I decided to cut it. All I needed was for someone to tell me that I wasn’t going to do it.

Dhaujee pulled my hair into a ponytail and told me that she was going to cut a bit off at a time. She made 3 cuts. Snip. Hair in hand. Snip. Hair on floor. Snip. No hair left! I put the hair in the trashcan and stared at it for a moment. I didn’t feel anything! It was all gone, and I was fine with that! I just knew that I’d have a break down of some sort, but once my hair hit the trashcan so did my fears. It really is just hair and I was in love with the fact that it was finally gone! I kept smiling at myself in the mirror.

On the flip side, when I showed my mother my new hair cut and asked her if she liked it she plainly told me, “No.” When I asked her why she said, “Because I worked too hard to get it to grow.” o_O Honestly… that pissed me off. As a little girl, my hair took a very long time to grow. I didn’t have the little ghetto girl ponytails (You know; the ones that don’t really gather and go into the hair bows lol) but my hair was short. As time went on, it began to grow longer and longer. I’m 24 now so if I want to cut my hair, guess what? I’m going to cut my hair. It hurt my feelings that she didn’t like it, because she actually made it known by barely speaking to me for a few days. Again, this is over hair. My hair. I digress.

Since cutting my hair, I’ve gotten several compliments. When I wake up in the morning it’s all matted together and leans to the left, which makes me laugh. The right side is more tightly coiled than the left, which is straight in the front and has a loser curl in the back. Some days it’s really fly, and other days it’s just a mess. And you know what? I like it. And I don’t care if you don’t!

The Downs of Facebook

2010-06-18T11:21:00.000-07:00

Over the past several weeks, I’ve had a front row seat at what I’ll call, “My Life Sucks and I Want You. ALL OF YOU, To Know It”. Specifically, I’m referencing my Facebook “friends” Facebook statuses. Every morning I wake up to statuses that reference everything from “I’m gonna punch you in the face when I see you” to “My baby daddy ain’t sh*t”, so I thought I’d take the liberty of paraphrasing a few of the statuses that I’ve seen. Check me out"

"My baby daddy ain't sh!t. He don't do nothin' for my child." - You know what? You're so right. But guess what? You had a baby with him when all the flags were bleeding crimson. And for that, you failed. Miserably. Ya'll baby is pretty tho. *shrug*
"OMG I'm feeling some type of way today! But it's all good. Never forget who was there for you when you had nobody." - Really? #sitDOWNservant You feel some type of way EVERYDAY, just like the rest of us. I know that Facebook is a general place for you to voice your feelings, fears and concerns, exciting news and such, but if it's that deep, pick up a Bible and start reading!
"I don't care if you like me or not, I don't need you to be my friend." - Are you sure? Because if you really don't care, then you wouldn't waste your breath. Go read a book!
"I'm a real woman. I know how to take care of home. Don't be mad because I got what you want." - *blank stare* GIRL BYE! You just made that decision yesterday. #ontothenextone
"I can't wait until my man gets home. I miss him so much! I just love him down to his socks!" - I'll admit it. I'm hatin' right here. I don't have a boyfriend, so I don't want to know that you love your man down to his funky a$$ socks!!
"I think it's funny that you have all this stuff to say but you won't say it to my face. Bitch I dare you to step to me." - We all have these moments, so I'm not even mad at you for making the statement clear. But what bugs me is when these all out "Facebook: War of the Words" start. Why do you feel that you have to have the last word? Why can't you just shut up and let the other person look like an ass? And why are you arguing with your family over Facebook!?
"Bitches ain't sh!t. My homeboy called up his ex-girl, who has a serious boyfriend, and asked her could he hit. She said yeah! Bitches ain't sh!t!!!!" - Let's pause for a moment. *pause* I see what you're saying; I totally understand where you're coming from. But why is your homeboy going back to what he already had? He should be looking for something exciting and new. However, they obviously want to screw each other, so why are you so mad? Did you want to hit that?

I'll stop here...

My point is: Maybe if you write something positive, it'll come back to you. No, everyday isn't joyous, but everyday is a day that you are given a new chance to make some changes in your life. I'm sure folks get annoyed with my positive Facebook statuses, but I'd rather be positive than angry. And despite the general consensus, I'm not all that damn angry anyway! =)

She’s fallen and Well… She Kinda Can’t Get Up

2010-03-03T13:09:00.000-08:00

“Mommy fell in front of the church, and we’re on our way to the hospital.” Really now? *sigh*

I remember one rainy night, when I was a little girl, my mother came home in such a big hurry, only surprised to see that my Grandma had just sat me down at the living room table- yes, the living room table - to eat my dinner. Apparently, I had a dental appointment and this eating dinner situation had to be stopped immediately for Mommy to get me to the dental appointment on time - *pushes self away from table*. After running upstairs to brush my teeth (you know you brush your teeth “a little extra” before going to see Dr. Smiley), Mommy and I whisked out of the door and practically ran up North Avenue- until Mommy slipped and did a split at the corner of Carey Street… in her brand new $100 Nike tennis shoes. The end result? Torn ligaments in the knees. And crutches.

Fast forward to February 21, 2010. Tyler and Mommy are talking and walking, having a grand ol’ time heading up the street to church; when suddenly Tyler notices that Mommy is on the ground. Or is it that Mommy noticed that Tyler was no long next to her, but standing over top of her? Right in front of the church steps, Mommy slipped only to find herself sitting on her right ankle. Being the stubborn, proud woman that she is (courtesy of Grandma), along with the help of the random White folks that came out of nowhere, she hobbled into the church and lasted about 5 minutes before she realized that her foot was pointing to the right. Her leg wasn’t. *sigh* The end result? An ankle broken in 3 places, surgery and a well packed soft splint. And crutches, a walker, and a roll around knee scooter. Scoot, scoot.

The thing about Mommy is when she falls she falls hard. Breaking bones and tearing ligaments and what not! At least she never does anything half assed. Ha. And it’s pretty funny what a broken ankle can do for you. I think my parents had more conversation last week than they have my entire life. I digress.

For the past two weeks, I’ve been playing Nurse Greer, accompanying Mommy to doctor’s appointments and as of two days ago, her surgery. I have to admit that it’s afforded me plenty of time to cook. Who doesn’t love to cook!? I’ve made everything from coffee cake and fudgy brownies (with a white chocolate toffee ganache.) to my own spin on vegetable lasagna and even chocolate chip cornflake marshmallow cookies (check here for the originator of these wonderful cookies and here for the copycat recipe). I can’t forget having tried my hand at a tasty tequila lime butter sauce. “Jose Cuervo is my dri-iiink” (Shout outs to Big Boi!) A lot of my friends have come over to see “the sick and shut in” and my Ace-boon-coon, Ca’Vette even tied a pretty pink ribbon around the front of Mommy’s walker. *confetti*

In all of this falling and fixing of the ankles there is a lesson: Sometimes you have to be still. And if you don’t sit still, you’ll slip on black-ice.

PEACE.

Living Without Facebook and Twitter

2010-02-22T11:04:00.001-08:00

I decided to give up Twitter and Facebook for Lent. It was a bit of a split second decision, although I did decide to sleep on it for a night. How could I give up the almighty Twittuh’s and “The Book” so easily, you may ask. The easiest answer that I can give is: It was time for a much needed break from Twitter. I spend so much time on Twitter that it’s really a shame. As far as ~~Stalkerbook~~ is concerned, I think I’ve researched enough folks Facebook profiles to know everyone whereabouts, and I’m more than certain that people have done the same with my profile. In short, it just wasn’t that hard to walk away from those “Faces”. However, before making my final decision, I Googled the length of the Lenten season for this year – 46 days. “FORTY-SIX DAAAAAYS!?!?!?!”, I thought. That’s a long time for someone who usually checks Twitter after a quick morning prayer! But then I thought, “If Jesus gave his life for me, then I can give up Twitter… and Facebook for good measure!”

For those of you who are unaware of what Lent is, Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines Lent as, “the 40 weekdays from Ash Wednesday to Easter observed by the Roman Catholic, Eastern, and some Protestant churches as a period of penitence and fasting.” For me, it’s always been a time to give up those things in life that I know aren’t as much of a necessity as I may think they are. As a kid I would give up my NES System. It was a struggle giving up Super Mario Bros. 3. Oh how I enjoyed having Mario and Luigi jump on those evil mushroom heads! *sigh* Sadly, though, I remember giving in and playing my games, several times. But let’s be honest; for the amount of time I planted myself in front of Mario, Luigi and King Koopa, I could have been reading a book or enjoying a cooking show with Grandma. As a college student I’m not sure that I gave anything up. I was so wrapped up in school work or the lack thereof on some occasions, that I rarely remembered to get ashes on Ash Wednesday. Now that I’m out of school and in the working world, and more importantly now that I’m trying to get my life together spiritually, I figured that this year would be a great year to start fully participating in the Lenten season. So far, we’re 6 days into Lent, and I haven’t bothered to log onto Twitter or Facebook… and I don’t intend to.

Snowmageddon 2010

2010-02-06T19:23:00.001-08:00

The blizzard of 2010 has arrived! Is it “Snowmageddon”? Possibly. If it is, is your soul saved? Me? *Italian voice* “I’m workin’ on it!” Eh… *Kanye shrug*

Before I fell asleep last night- from sheer boredom- I looked out of my window at the snow that was falling but wasn’t sticking and said, “Maybe when I wake up, it’ll be a lot of snow out.” Well didn’t I ask for it! By the time I mustered up the strength to look out of my window, I saw plenty of snow. I even decided to step out onto the balcony and take some pictures of the snow. See?

Pretty serious, right?

Tyler came out and decided to play in the snow.

After throwing that snow ball (up in the corner… see it? Yep, right there.) he said, “Uh… I think I just hit somebody…” Gotta love that kid.

I’ve been on Twitter and Facebook ALL day. Literally. The last time I was snowed in, I remember my sister and me taking turns building houses and 50’s style restaurants on The Sims. Too bad I don’t have my The Sims 2 games right now; if I did I’d probably still be in need of a shower. Anyway, being in the house all day has afforded me plenty of time to do productive things. Too bad I didn’t do any of them. I probably could have researched some jobs and determined what I wanted to do with my life- but I didn’t. I think that’s part of the problem I’m having. When you feel unfulfilled with your current situation you’re supposed to sit down and take some time to do something about it. Write out a list of the things that you want for your life, pray over them, put them in your Bible. Something! I think I’ve been sitting for too long. I did however read over some information that I had requested to be sent to me from Baltimore International College. I’m thinking of taking a certificate program in Professional Cooking and Baking. I would actually prefer to take the certificate program in Professional Skills in Baking and Pastry, but unfortunately, it’s only during the day- and I work during the day *Kanye shrug*. If you’re interested, check here. I’m going to attend their open house on February 20^th (hopefully) and I get to take one guest. I think I’ll take my oldest god-son, Tawain (he’s 14!!!), who told me that he wants to go to “cooking school” after high school. It should be a fun day for us. I should probably run the idea by him first. In other news, this being in the house all day is for the birds. I’m seriously having a flash back to some of those nights in college where it was just me, Papa Johns and Robert De Niro in either Goodfellas or Casino (have you seen either of those movies? You should!). The difference is that those nights were usually planned. Today was not. I’m hungry and sleepy. BUT! Mommy did make chili and a lemon pound cake, which I can’t wait to taste. I’ll be sure to post a picture of it. Wanna know how bored I am? See below.

This is what happens when you’re hungry and bored. You take your night scarf off and stuff yourself with Fruit Roll-Ups. And you take a picture of yourself. Don’t act like you haven’t done it before!

I made spaghetti the other day. The meat sauce was from scratch. Wanna see it? It’s actually Emeril Lagasse’s meat sauce for lasagna. I figured it couldn’t hurt to use it as a spaghetti meat sauce.

It took all of 2 hours to get the end result.

You guys should try it and doctor it up to your liking. Check here.

There are a lot of pictures on this blog, because I’m actually writing it through Microsoft Word 2007’s blog publisher. It’s pretty amazing. Try it. I could probably think about some other things to blog about… But I’ll wait a little while- I’m going to go check on that pot of chili and lemon cake! And by the way, I don’t look that way (picture above) every day- only when I’m tinkering on insanity from cabin fever. See below for a cuter photo (lol). Enjoy your evening everyone!

*UPDATE* Don’t try Microsoft Word 2007’s Blog Publisher if you’re using Blogger. It sucks ass after all. And by now I’ve eaten both a bowl of chili and had a slice of cake, all of which was delicious. Don’t you wish you had some? Peace.

Thanksgiving with The Dorsey's

2009-11-28T11:18:00.001-08:00

Any event with the Dorsey's is always an adventure. There's bound to be joy, laughter, and at the very least, alcohol induced excitement! Mommy, Tyler, and I headed up the street to Cousin Gary and Ms./Cousin/Aunt Torin's (my play Auntie, Victoria, that fell in love with Cousin Gary's inherited Dorsey magic) house for Thanksgiving dinner this year. By the end of the night, my two younger cousins, Jayden and Ryanne (pronounced Ryan) had used my camera to start their own photography company (lol). I must admit that the little boogers had some pretty good aim. The food was good, the Mascato was sweet and the laughter was loud. Oh! Lest ye not forget the "world premier" (to the family) of my twin cousins, Julius' an Julian's, music video, "It's My Birthday". They taped it during August right in front of their grandmother's house (stifles laughter) and over at Druid Hill park. I must admit, that after a consecutive 3 time viewing of the video, and amidst all of my jokes, the video was nice. I'm proud to say that my cousins are "tryna get up out the hood." Take a look-see at some of the family.

The Way We Were

2009-11-25T20:54:00.000-08:00

I was searching youtube, looking for a video of something random that I like. I'm extra EXTRA corny for this, but I really do like "The Way We Were" by Barbra Streisand. She be sangin' on this song, ya'll. I remember seeing Beyonce perform this song at the Kennedy Honors and it made me do some research. I even went out and bought Funny Girl just to see what Ms. Streisand is really all about. But the "funny" thing is, I haven't watched it yet. Ha. Well anyway, take a look at Ms. Streisand....

And here's why I fell in love with the song to begin with.
Beyonce sings the hell out of this song.

.

Thanksgiving Tips for 2009 as Provided By Brian 'Protype' Ajayi

2009-11-25T08:09:00.000-08:00

My best friend Brian, in his infinite wisdom, decided that he would come up with 10 Thanksgiving tips for everyone this holiday season. Just looking at his tips made me die with laughter, so I thought that (with his permission of course) I would provide them to you all.

Don't show up to anyone's house (including mine) uninvited. Don't think cuz it's thanksgiving u won't get embarrassed. I will thank God u made it safely and then show you the door.
Don't go questioning all the food.......If you got to question it, take your hungry and picky behind home and heat up some oodles and noodles.........wit ya picky self.
Dern it its thanksgiving. Be thankful. Don't be mad because Aunt Luquasia didn't bring the pie...
Don't go to 8 houses and eat at all 8. That's being fat, not social.....
Don't go to someones house with the intention of wrapping food to go. There is a 45 minute visit time minimum to become eligible for a to go plate.
If u like a particular item on the menu, don't try to eat all of it in you first sitting. That's cause for you to get kicked the hell out. You know u wrong for that whole plate of stuffing. I wanted some.
DO NOT bring ur own plastic wrap to someone elses house. Its ghetto. BUT if you insist on being ghetto raise your standards and bring gladware. Its better for the environment.
If Aunt Bertha makes a Red Velvet cake that looks like pink cotton or mashed potatoes that look like chunky potato soup. TURN UR PLATE DOWN. GOD IS NOT PLEASED.Ur health is more important than her feelings.
If you get sick, don't blame it on that last corn kernel. Blame it on that 8th meal u just ate wit ya fat tail. U really want me to believe a corn kernel put u over the top.
If a family member is Not saved, wears dentures, has an oral disease, or is just plain nasty don't let them pray over the food. If they do pray and aren't saved, the family needs to pray harder. For all other discrepancies tell them to pray in their secret closet.

::BONUS TIP::

Don't waste your leftovers. Give them to the homeless. But don't give them something you wouldn't eat. That's some inconsiderate stuff.

....

160?!!? AreYou Kidding Me?

2009-11-01T19:31:00.001-08:00

Earlier this summer, I went to visit my friend Ronnie's father in the hospital. While waiting for his nurse to finish up with him, my Aunt Victoria weighed me on the scale. 152 lbs. Ok. Cool. *side eye*

Shortly after that I decided that I would take up baking. Baking has always been something that I enjoyed watching, but now I could finally, in the comfort of my own kitchen, bake away! Pound cakes and cheesecakes (well... cheese pies. I haven't made a traditional cheesecake as of yet). Orange cake and Red Velvet cakes (!!!!). And then, this past Thursday rolled around. I was at a scheduled doctors appointment, and honestly I was so concerned with both getting home and the hope of using that $1 coupon at Boston Market (did you use yours??? Every time I went over there the place was full of Negroes!) , that I kind of just mounted the doctors weight scale without thinking that I could have gained more than a pound or two since my last time on the scale. I kicked off my shoes and hopped on the scale, and within a few moments, the nurse quickly and without remorse said, "160." She said it so flatly that I was stunned. It wasn't her that I was stunned with, but it was just so frank. "160." "Pounds??" I said. "Yes." She said. *In Gucci Mane voice* "Well daaaamn"

After the nurse quickly whisked me into a room, and instructed me to change into a gown, I sat there in this blue gown trying to stop the breeze from grazing across my back side, and stared at the wall that held the Body Mass Index (BMI) chart. The colors ranged from green (I think) to red. Well... as I adjust my eyes to my weight in accordance with my height... and notice that my color is a light orange... *side eye*... I see that I'm looking at heart disease. "Well damn!" I talked to my doctor and simply put she said, in her West Indian accent, "This is your wake up call Greer!"

Yes it is... I'm 23. And I'm fat. But I carry it well... =)

I say all of this to say, that I'm going to try to lose 10 lbs, all the while praying that my butt doesn't go flat during the process.

FOOLERY!

2009-07-08T12:09:00.001-07:00

My mother sent me an email about this article from Blackamericaweb.com Please read.

Finished? Good.

So first of all; who gives a damn where the Obama's are going to vacation? I'm so over the Obama hype that it isn't even funny. They wash their behinds like the rest of us, so let's focus on the mortgage crisis or how Obama keeps giving these other countries the stank eye and saying, "I dare you!" and what the outcome of that will be.

But right now, the important part of this note is simply posing the question, "Why?" Why are these uppity Negroes slamming the Obama's? What about them says that they can't fit into the society of Oak Bluffs? Is it because they don't have enough money? I think they have more than enough. Is it because they don't wear the "right" type of clothing? If I recall, Michelle's Inauguration outfit and ball gown were hand made and tailored to fit her. Or are you mad because she can go into White House/Black Market or The Gap and come out with fabulous finds for her and the girls, without digging the country deeper into debt? And I believe that Obama's suits cost well over $1100. Check the specs on his custom suit that was made for his Democratic Convention acceptance speech here.

What? You mad cuz they stylin' on you?

None of the materialistic reasons I suggested are reasons enough for them not to fit into the society of Oak Bluffs. They won't fit in because the Obama's know that the way to change the world is to start at the home base; not by sitting on their asses acting as if they're better than everyone else. Or acting as if they didn't get to where they are through at least of a pinch of affirmative action. I'm not Obama's biggest supporter by far. But damnit Black people, what is going on?!?! Are we really just going to treat each other like this? Don't get me wrong; I'm the first to yell "FOOLERY!" when I see it, but if this isn't the most ridiculous load of bull I've ever heard in my life then I don't know what is (although I'm sure I can come up with something ). But seriously, all jokes aside- Why does Michelle have to be identified as a "ghetto girl" just because she recognizes where she comes from? And what is so bad about her coming from the same place that Jennifer Hudson did? Did these same buppies lend a helping hand or a heartfelt prayer for Jennifer when her family was murdered in cold blood? It's sad because these well to do African American's probably don't even understand that to the rest of the world they're still NIGGERS! They're just dancing on a wooden board while bullets are being shot at their feet. I shouldn't even have to result to saying such things about my own people. But if this isn't coonfoolery then I, sincerely, do not know what is!

Grits

2009-06-01T10:05:00.000-07:00

I woke up yesterday morning afternoon, after a fun night. My mother came in my room to tell me about her night out with the fam. The fun, the laughter, the drinks =). After our conversation, I asked her what she was about to make for breakfast.

“Grits.”
“Grits!?!”

After surfing the net for a little while, my mother finally called my name to tell me that breakfast was ready, but that I had to make my own eggs. Not a problem. I opened the refrigerator, and what did I see? My grandmothers butter dish. It looked brand new. It isn’t, but it sure did look that way. Crystal, sparkling under the refrigerators light, there was Connie’s butter dish. It made my day. I find that everywhere I turn in my home, there is a piece of Connie. Old photographs. Her purple night gown that I slept in last night. Her blue netted night scarf that I tie around my hair before placing the silk, gold and black one on top – for those foggy mornings when trying to avoid major frizz.

Mommy and I watched the remainder of The Great Debater’s yesterday as well. There’s a moment when the younger debater has the blanket pulled all the way over his head, but the tops of it are neatly folded back, where you can see the precise seam. My eyes lit up when I saw that. I said, “Did you see that blanket!?! That’s how Grandma would fold her blanket!”
When I think of my grandmother, I feel like a little kid again. I tried so hard to be strong after she died, that I believe I may have lost a couple of my marbles under the pressure. Deep down I haven’t been the same since. I still smile the same. Laugh the same. Sleep the same. But I’ll never forget the nights that I pulled the cover all the way over my head and cried. Hard. Quietly. The moment that I never broke down. The moment that I kissed her cheek for the last time.
But I’ll never ever forget how she used to pat my head gently and hum, when I’d lay in her lap. She’d always hum, but I don’t think she even realized that she was doing it. I’ll never forget all the times that I’d get my hair done and she’d smile and say, “You look like a brand new nigga!” Funny lady she was. And funny lady she will always be.

So I ate my grits and my eggs and sausage. I never touched the butter dish. I opted for, “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter,” just so that the butter dish could continue to sit and shine under the refrigerator light. And even though the light goes out when the door is closed, it’s still there – just like Grandma.

This Real World is Hard

2009-05-20T20:14:00.000-07:00

June 11 is supposed to be an exciting start to a fabulous weekend for me. I'll be heading to NY to be with my girls for what we've titled ReWe - Reunion Weekend. As the days progress, I'm continually thinking about how I'm going to manage my money to have the $200 for the hotel on hand, as well as money for food and of course shopping. I don't yet know how I'll do it. But I will.

Unfortunately, one of my best friends sent out a group text today saying that she wouldn't be able to attend ReWe, because she can't even pay the rent. I feel horrible because she's done so much for me during our friendship, and I wish that I could help her. However her situation brought to light, even more than it already had, that this real world is hard. After graduation in May 2008, it took me 3 months to find a one month temporary job, another 2 months to find another temporary job (which in the end was the PITS!) that lasted me 4 months, until God finally sent a full time job with benefits my way. The pay isn't great, no, but everyday I wake up, I'm truly thankful to get up and prepare to head out of my door to be the best Research Program Assistant I can be.

But the thing is, it's still hard. I still live pay check to pay check - especially now. My best friend is still in Hampton working 3 jobs - 2 waitressing jobs and 1 job that's actually in her field - and it still isn't enough. This economy sucks. As an adult you realize that everytime you get a piece of money it has to go somewhere or to someone, and at the end of the day you can get a little exhausted.

Today, my "boo" told me, that he was gonna get drunk. Why? you may ask -just as I did. Because he needs a job and can't find one. His situation is a bit different - He just graduated from college 2 weeks ago - I know, "cuz I was right there at his graduation." I pray that he doesn't have to go through the 9 months of hell and unhappiness that I went through trying to find a decent job in this crappy economy. It will bring tears to your eyes no matter how strong you try to be, and regardless of how many nights you sit up until 3 and 4 am clicking away at your keyboard in hopes of at least finding a front desk position at the motel in the middle of North Avenue. And those fancy, "Thanks for getting dressed up and putting on your best suit, but we don't need yo ass," letters and emails make it all the more difficult to try and stay afloat.

BUT, once you've made it through, you've done just that - made it through. And once you get to where God wants you to be, you can appreciate that struggle to pay the rent, the whispers behind your back, and most importantly, your tears. Because they all get you to the top - one day.

So I'm A Virgin After All

2008-10-16T19:53:00.000-07:00

So... I think I set this thing up correctly... but I'm not totally sure. Hmmm...
So... Anyway... As the title says, I'm a virgin after all!! I mean, just because I've never done THIS type of thing before lol I've been having an urge to blog for a while, just so that I could have somewhere to place my rants and raves... Somewhere to place my tears and fears. And smiles too... I'm not as eloquent with my words as some. Maybe because I stopped writing. Maybe because reading was never really my thing, even though I did it anyway.

So... Really, what should my first blog be about? Should it be a deep walk down the beaten path of the girl raised by a single mother and not by the ever so opinionated father? Or should it be about life's simple things like, watching my grandmother laugh at her English comedies or listening to the bass develop in my 13 year old brothers voice? I really don't know. You know, I think I'd like to talk about love. So, here it go!

I think that love is amazing. Sometimes, I get extremely excited just imagining how wonderful it will be when I find that man to carry my heart in his and me carry his in mine. I believe that love is not something that was designed to be painful or evil or selfish, yet somehow whenever I ask my peers their honest opinions of it, they give such unhappy adjectives. Growing up, I've had my share of defeats in love, whether it be with my father or a boy in a boys body... or the boy in the man's body. At some point I decided to get the dictionary and the Bible and look up love's definitions. Neither definition (if you do not know what the Bible's definition is I suggest you crack that bad boy open... the same applies for the dictionary) used negative words. So what is it that goes on in our lives that makes our view of love so foggy and blue? I'm sure that our pasts play a major part. I'm sure that our fears of the anticipated trials in love come to fruition at some point as well. But what is it really that make our hearts hurt? We become selfish in love. We become boastful. We chase after love instead of just being open and waiting for it to come to us at its purposefully designed time. We are impatient! So what can we do to deal with love in all of its glory?

I don't know... Maybe you could think of an answer...