What About Your Friends?

I don't really care for the phrase "History repeats itself," but sometimes it makes sense. For instance, a friend enters a relationship with someone and has their nose so far up their significant other's derriere, they forget about their friends. Break up, just to turn around and do the same thing again.

Surprised?

Maybe not.

It's a Beautiful Day, Don't Let it Get Away...

Thoughts for December 9th:

* My nephew turned 17 today. WTF did time go? I was just changing this kid's diapers. O__O
* A new crush. Not doing anything about it tho, I just think he's attractive. And he has the nerve to be from North Carolina (my Dean should find that hilarious.) Speaking of my Dean...
* My hair looks FABULOUS today! It's amazing how a hair appointment can make finals week that much easier. And speaking of finals...
* Praise Him, today is my LAST day of class. I can't boast about successfully completing my first semester in grad school yet. Not until exams are done.
* Getting excited my Chicago NYE trip! I bought my dress today too. It's true that patience is a virtue. It was originally $80 dollars when I spotted it in the store. The purchase price? $25. :-)
* Just got word about another baby carriage in the picture...not for me though! Sheesh...
* I will be painting my accent wall this weekend. Better yet, I'll just offer my Dad food and beer and have him do. What? I have work to do.
* LOVE. MY. NEW. GLASSES. Both pairs.
* A certain of friend of mine is being shady. Iduntlikeit.
* Funniest FB stat of the day:

NEW FACEBOOK GAME!!! Inbox me your credit card number with 3 digit security code and expiration date, and I will post to my status what I purchased with it...This will be FUN!!! Start Now !!!! Had to take this one,lol

El fin.

Pressure Pushing Down on Me....

Reflections of the Way Life Used To Be

These are things I want to/wanted to say to people but never had the opportunity or the guts. Many of them are living, some deceased, but nevertheless, these are my true thoughts and feelings:

Person 1- You are a beautiful person, inside and out, and it's a shame you don't see it. I hope that one day you will be able to look in the mirror and see that for yourself. No worries. You're getting there. :-)

Person 2- You seem to be the complete package but you have something very important missing- a relationship with God. I don't know if I could handle that....

Person 3- You hurt me so much, but you also gave me something very precious. For that, I will never forget you. But, all I can do is wish you the best in life. I want nothing more to do with you.

Person 4- It's a shame almost 10 years went down the drain. But, I could no longer handle the lifestyle you chose to live. As much as you made me mad/worried over the years, I feel a part of me is missing since we don't speak anymore. I wonder what you're doing now...

Person 5- I don't like you. You're a sham. You didn't deserve those letters, and in my eyes, you will never earn them.

Person 6- I heard you were the greatest father ever, and you treated my mother like family. You had a big heart, and it killed the family when you passed. I'm sorry I don't remember you. I really wish I did. Speaking of which...

Person 7- You were not much of a father figure to anyone, not even your illegitimate children. Didn't leave a legacy or treasured memories. Only scars, both visible and invisible, on my some of my closest family members. Regardless of whatever feelings I had towards you, I still prayed for your soul. It's not good to harbor such anger and resentment towards someone. May you rest in peace.

Person 8- Where do I begin? I remember in high school, you came in the room as this "sweet and innocent" girl who just arrived in America. You thought I was unapproachable because I was sitting on my desk, applying lip gloss, and checking my hair in the mirror. lol I do believe that it wasn't the best idea for you to have transferred there as people (in my opinion) took advantage of you....though at times you willingly let them. And though I stuck by your side through all the rumors and gossip, you abandoned me for people who played you in the end. I see you now that you have obviously grown to be a beautiful young woman. I just hope you've grown in maturity also.

Person 9- UGH. I could go on and on about you, but I'll keep it short. You are a gorgeous man, but very detached, insensitive, and conceited. Though you were a waste of time, you were a great learning experience, and I appreciate you for that and that only. Keep in touch! Maybe NOT.

Person 10- BEW! God forbid something happens to your mother, but if it did, I would see to it that I raised you myself. I remember watching you fight for your life in the hospital and prayed to God that he'd have mercy on you. Take my health instead, or let me not be blessed with children of my own as a sacrifice for you to make it through. I am so proud of you and I love you sooooooooooo much. *muah muah muah*

You're a Needy Girl

New group obsession: CHROMEO













Electrofunk at its best. Take THAT Daft Punk.

Can a Ninja Get a Table Dance?

As I said in an earlier post, I entered college as a pre-business major. I wanted to study any major that would be the most lucrative in the future. I took ECON 101, and that was a FAIL in every sense of the word. I wrote it off as it being a common freshman mistake. I partied more than I studied, and didn't get the grade. Whatever. I decided to dust myself off and go at ECON 101 again- FAILED. I bet if I asked my parents, they would remember each of the times I called home crying over a failed econ exam. It was a struggle, and ultimately, a deciding factor in changing my major.

You can imagine my horror when a prerequisite to my grad program was economics. I moped and complained about it to whoever listened, and nearly killed myself studying for our first exam. After a two week wait for grades, I finally received my score- a 96 out of 100. This is how I feel now:



I'm just saying.

And the Days Go By, Like a Strand, in the Wind

Thoughts of the week:

(1) Does "being happy" necessarily equate to "being grateful?" I would consider myself a happy person. I'm truly grateful for my blessings which is too many to name. Would I call my a genuinely happy person? No. It's only because I don't know if I'm truly content or if it's just a facade. I have the tendency to push things to a room in the back of my mind. Now, that room is full, and those things are slowly wearing on the hinges on the door.

(2) Adding family members on Facebook has turned out to be a terrible idea. I've never got into any confrontations via Facebook, which the exception of two first cousins. Recently, my aunt added me as a friend and decided it was her duty to send me messages about my pictures as well as comment on them. Apparently, my photos "will make the men wonder." I love my aunt dearly.....but she was swiftly removed. My mom said to ignore her comments since her and her sisters all wore the same things we did when they were our age. Gotta love moms.

(3) Contrary to popular belief, my economics test did not slaughter me!

(4) Received a phone call about my dad's sister being in the hospital for a heart attack. This is the second member on my dad's side of the family that suffered a heart attack this year. My uncle had one last one month.....unfortunately he didn't survive. Moreover, they need to remove her bladder but I don't why. This terrifies me for two reasons: one, I'm deeply concerned about my aunt's health and two, I have an appointment with an urologist in two weeks. I've been having my own health problems. I hope this appointment turns out for the best.


(5) I've started eating healthier foods. I slipped this weekend though. Damn you hot wings and Red Lobster.


Lastly...


(6) At this point in life, relationship-wise.....I'm better off alone.

Mercy, Mercy Me...

My, how time flies when you're NOT having fun. lol Time for updates! First, the highlights:

Chicago, IL and Philadelphia, PA- I visited Chicago with Millie in early September and just came back from my Philadelphia trip this past Sunday. Two cities, both opposite as day and night. Chicago is a city that I hold close to my heart. I feel as if there's a chemistry between me and that city (yes, I likened it to a man.) We stayed at a luxurious hotel near Magnificent Mile, and enjoyed the many activities Chicago had to offer- lunch at the Cheesecake Factory, a boat tour of the skyline, dinner at a Spanish tapas restaurant, shopping, two nightclubs, etc. When I go to the Chi, it's not like a vacation, but more of a visit to my second home. I have this fascination with the city and, like some Detroiters, I walk the streets asking where the hell did we go wrong in Detroit? (That's a discussion for another blog.)

Conversely, Philadelphia was the complete opposite. Arriving in Philly, I was still pleased with its downtown area. Not as developed as Chicago's, but had many tourist attractions nonetheless. The one thing that I liked about Philadelphia is that it was the first time I visited a city with a historic feel to it. Not surprising seeing that it IS one of the original 13 American colonies, and home of the Liberty Bell, Betsy Ross House, and the Philadelphia Museum of Art (Rocky anyone?) As opposed to the neck breaking skyscrapers, shopping avenues, and "glitz and glam" of cities like Chicago, Philly had cobblestone streets, statues of famous generals and townsmen, and ancient mansonry halls. I, of course, looked up to give my salute to William Penn.



It would be fair to say that every major US city has its ghetto. However, even after being born and raised in Detroit and seeing my city's most desolate areas, nothing prepared me for North Philly. It was probably some of the most deteriorated, poverty stricken neighborhoods I've ever visited. Hundreds of dilapidated rowhomes, vacant lots overgrown with weeds, and litter covering almost every inch of what was left of streets and sidewalks. The area in one word was- bleak. The stories that the CDC's (community development corporations) shared in the area were needless to say, disturbing. One CDC said their operation was located in the same building where they found over 100 needles and condoms, as well as not one, not two, but THREE dead bodies. My group visited the Logan CDC, an organization that was committed to revitalizing a neighborhood that had been destroyed by a bad decision of Logan's past developers. Years ago, it was discovered that the houses constructed in the area were built upon an ash creek. Because of the lack of a solid foundation, all of the houses began to sink. It was ordered that the residents in the neighborhood vacate their houses for only $500, and their homes were demolished. The debris from the houses were not removed however, just packed into the ash creek under the ground. It's been 30+ years, and more than 32 acres still sits unused and undeveloped. It was such a devastating story but nonetheless, good for me to see and experience. As a Detroit native, I know the problem the city faces because I lived it. I know the problems other cities faced because I studied it. Learning it in a classroom, however, is way different than experiencing it in person. and just think, there are cities in worse conditions in the world? Oh what to do, what to do....



Grad update- Stressed, overworked, confused. Kanye's line "They say, 'Oh you graduated?' No I decided I was finished." keeps resonating in my head. What did I expect though? It's grad school. I think the frustration comes from being forced to take classes that I don't want to take, and I sucked at in undergrad. The one thing that made me excited my beginning a masters program is the belief that I'd be able to FINALLY take courses that interest me and are pertinent to my career. Yet, I'm back at square one- confused in economics, struggling in statistics, and trying to grasp the concept of law. I just have to make it through this semester.

Self-reflection- The older I get, the more I like to be by myself. I'm not so much a loner because I did manage to befriend a lot of people in my class (thanks to "bonding" in Philly.* insert Samuel Jackson side eye*) Most of it is due to the fact that I'm completely drained after classes and work. The other half is I'm way too busy to partake in any social activity. Majority of it is by choice. In any case, it's definitely not depressing. After years of roommates and going home to a house with 4 adults and not enough space, my apartment remains my sanctuary.

For those who are curious, YES I did sing the "Good TImes" upon entering Chicago, and YES I sang the "Fresh Prince of Bel-Air" theme song when we arrived in Philly. I'll be singing the "Mary Tyler Moore Show" theme song once I go to visit family in Minneapolis....questions?

We're N'Together Now....

I'm currently on the floor in my living room, blasting Limp Bizkit and Method Man, and smashing on caramel rice cakes. After 2 hours, I have successfully completed my statistics homework, and whether it turns out to be wrong or right, I did it without having to join a study group (yet), and most importantly, I did it without breaking down into tears.

I'm taking baby steps with this whole "grad school" thing. I've noticed that there are many things that I did in undergrad that I'm better at now. For instance, I was successfully able to go through college without having a class before 10 am. The one class I had at 9 am, I dropped in the first semester of freshman year. All I did was go to the lecture, read the Daily, then fall asleep in the back row. After working two jobs this summer that required me to wake up early (for both the commute and the job,) it's easier for me to get up. A struggle still, but easier. Another thing that I have improved on is my attentiveness in the classroom. Of course, my shiny, new MacBook helps, but that's only because I finally have a computer to type notes on. Writing notes used to keep me up, but by junior year, I would catch myself daydreaming or doodling an old English "D" (wattup tho) on pages in my notebook. Some may say it's too early in the semester for me to proclaim that "I'm a changed woman," but some things you don't just know....you feel.That's also mainly because I feel as if these next two years in graduate school will pass by with a quickness, and I see myself walking across the stage at Black Celeb again with a "What just happened?" look on my face. It's scary seeing that the adult world is approaching faster than I thought...

I do have one foot in the adult world nonetheless- my own place, more bills, trying to balance two jobs. Now more than ever, I have to heavily rely on my multitasking skills, something that I am grateful I developed from that one period in my life. You know. That one period prior to April 19th, 2007.

Before I get into (another) long blog, I need to go pack. Chi-town tomorrow!!!! And here's a picture of one my favorite purchases for my apartment- A bonsai tree! After much scrutiny from parents and friends alike (as well as a realistic look at my schedule), I bought something that I could care for and nurture....and won't have to worry about buying food or cleaning up droppings.





I still want a pair of doves.

Can't Stop the Pressure on Me

There are many wonderful perks to being a Greek. I don't mean "Greek" as in palakaris, patridhas, or descendent from ancestors born in Smyrna (thank you Eungenides), but I mean "Greek" as in being a member of the National Panhellenic Council. This council is comprised of nine, historically black fraternities and sororities: Alpha Phi Alpha (1906), Alpha Kappa Alpha (1908), Kappa Alpha Psi (1911), Omega Psi Phi (1911), Phi Beta Sigma (1914), Zeta Phi Beta (1920), Sigma Gamma Rho (1922), and Iota Phi Theta (1963). Each organization, though upholding different thrusts and beliefs, all follow the basic principles of scholarship, brotherhood/sisterhood, and service. Regardless of what he/she chose to become a part of, respect is (or should be) given to the founders of these Divine 9 organizations. The founders designed the fraternities and sororities during periods of oppression and discrimination against black people, used them as an outlet for collegiate students to establish a bond with others who shared the same morals and ideas, and to also provide service to their community. It is amazing to see that many of these organizations have reach 100+ years, and all are continuing to grow in membership.





My first introduction to Greek life was through my second grade teacher, Ms. Green. Ms Green was a tall, thin, elementary school teacher with long hair and an obsession for the football player Deion Sanders. My classmates loved her because she was young, "hip," and would create fun raps and rhymes for us to remember equations, measurements, or state capitals (I can still recall one that helped with remembering the days, weeks, and months in a year. Smh...) Unlike my fellow students however, I did not put Ms. Green on a pedestal. For some reason, there was something about me that she did not like. At times, I felt as if she picked on me for no reason at all, and often she made me cry in front of the class or hold up dictionaries. It even got to a point where my mother and sister threatened to go up to my school and "set her straight," but because I was afraid that I would face repercussions in class the next day, I cried and pleaded for them not to. One day, Ms. Green showed us a video of some "club" that she was in, and while I don't remember much of the video, I DO remember the women doing what she called "stepping." I watched it with partial curiosity, mostly dislike, and made a vow that whatever club she was in, I would never be a part of.

My second exposure to Greekdom would be from the television show "A Different World." I would watch and look at the extras walking in the background, thinking "What the hell are those letters on their shirt?" Other shows such as "Moesha" and "Fresh Prince of Bel-Air" would soon follow with episodes about pledging and "being on line," but I still had no idea of what sororities and fraternities were and what did they do. Not until I reach U of M. As a freshman, I walked around Festifall trying to decide which sisterhood was the best for me. It was never a question as to if I would join a sorority in college. That was something I decided by high school. The question was "which one?" After researching many orgs, I felt the right organization for me was Zeta Phi Beta Sorority Incorporated. I'll spare you the "interview response" of why I chose to wear the royal blue and white, but I will sum it up: Gamma Delta, finer womanhood, networking and my second family. Women who have been there for me through thick and thin, and, as I said before, added to my college experience.




The stepshows, the strolling, the parties-those are the fun aspects. Any Greek would tell you that. U of M's Greek life has a been....a rollercoaster to say the least. But I've met some great people, and we had some good times. And while there are some who argue that the Greek life on our campus isn't what it used to be, we have came a long way.




But while there is the bright side to Greekdom, there's also the dark side. To outsiders, there's always speculation about what that "dark side" consists of, but Greeks who deal with it on a daily basis can understand the pressure and stress being Greek causes. There were many times when I had to step back, breathe, and go back to the reasons why I became Greek in the first place. I refused (and still do) to let the ignorance, foolishness, conceitedness, envy, and spitefulness of others- sorors and bruhs included -denigrate my reason for becoming a Zeta. In joining the org, I knew that I was not only making a commitment just for undergrad, but for a lifetime. As much as I will miss my undergraduate chapter, I can't wait to experience what it's like to be in a graduate chapter. I've already prepared myself for the 180-degree change, but I'm sure it will still be a positive experience....especially since there's already GD alum in the chapter. :-)

What led me to write this blog is one of the other aspects to the dark side of Greekdom- the inability to separate Greek life from personal life. It is something that frustrates me to no end. While my graduate chapter will be something that I'm a part of as an adult, I'm proud to say that I know that my life will not revolve around the chapter and chapter business. I've joined urban planning committees and officially became a member of the APA, I'll still be working two jobs, thinking about joining a church family, etc. etc. There's so much going on in my life, that I don't have time to think about Zeta 24/7. Unfortunately, that doesn't go for every Greek. There are those who talk about nothing but "being owt," stepshows, and parties, and the ironically, the ones who practically preach on Twitter "Greeks need to stop talking about Greek stuff all the time!" are the main ones who have Greek-related discussions or trending topics polluting my timeline and newsfeed. And on days like that, I avoid the social networks and pay attention to what's going on in the real world. Christina first, Zeta second.




By the way, my second grade teacher? I won't disclose her sorority. I'll just say that her name fitted her. ;-)

Never Can Say Goodbye

Today, I decided to take a different approach and dedicate my blog to two of my friends who have graced my life with their presence, and have moved on to bigger and better things in life. These are friendships developed out of a summer program at the University of Michigan, but before I begin, a brief background, perhaps?:

The Summer Bridge Program, or Bridge, was a program that we ("we" referring to almost 200 minority students) were forced to go to two weeks after we graduated from high school. In addition, we had to pay a $300 ($500?) fee which essentially was all of the money I received from my open house. All Bridge students were required to stay in the Mary Markley dormitory, a place known for bug infestations, bats, and rooms which felt like sweatboxes. We did have great Peer Advisors (PAs) who were always willing to provide a listening ear or help with homework (IF there weren't thirsty females desperately trying to catch the eye of attractive PAs through practically throwing themselves at people as if they never laid eyes on man/woman before...but that's a different story.) There were rumors, parties, hook-ups, MIPs, friendships formed that lasted the duration of college, and friendships that ended at the start of the Fall 2005 semester.

Oh and me? It's safe to say that at the time, I hated Bridge. We were constantly threatened by PAs to not go home, "or else." Since the "or else" was never clearly defined, I made it a point to go home damn near every weekend. When I wasn't home, I was in my sweatbox watching Missy Elliot, Dem Franchise Boys, and B5 videos on BET. For the most part, I maintained a low profile in Bridge (I was still very shy). I WAS, however, know as "the girl the satin pjs and sheets."

Luckily for me, there were people who made Bridge, and/or life after Bridge, exciting and helped me to understand the other aspect of going to college that falls outside the realms of academia. We'll start with....

Branden (bka B, B-Sneez, or "Dora" to some) Snyder- I met Branden in Bridge and he was randomly chilling with Kelli Keno. While we probably don't remember many details to our first meeting, we 'd both agree that we met at the ice cream social that night. From then on, we began a friendship that continued to grow throughout college as we shared many of the same interests, ESPECIALLY in music. The one thing that would always lead to a friendly (ha) debate between the two of us was the "eastside Detroit vs. westside Detroit" arguments, and even so, I enjoyed them all. While I have millions of favorite memories with B, I think one of my favorites thus far is the birthday party in the Union. He initially planned to have birthday celebration at BW3's that night, but because it was packed, we celebrated in the basement of the Union. In place of a birthday cake, he decides to get a large box of cookies from Mrs. Fields, and as he's bringing the box over to the table, he accidentally drops it on the floor. LMAO (don't kill me for laughing B!) The night still ended up being a great night, and he had many people come out for support. I could list wayyy more memories (especially the story when he first talked to my stalker) but that would take forever. Just wanted to say I love you Branden (with an 'e') and I wish you the best in Houston. You were able to do so much for Detroit before you left, and I can't wait to hear what you'll do in Houston. You have been a great friend, always there for me in my time of need, and little do you know, I look at you as not only a friend, but a role model. I'm still coming to visit! Just make sure you have that A/C on blast cause you know I hate heat. -___-

Elena (zka BESTIE!, B3, Elener, ESimp) Simpkins- Wow, where to start? The first time we met was actually through my Bridge roomie, Amede. They came into the room together, it was a quick introduction, and that was all. Fast forward to freshman year, and Elena and I happened to be in the same all-girls dorm, Helen Newberry. I'm not sure how we officially became friends, but it was ironic since I was the one hanging with Elener, and Amede wasn't (though she was still my roommate freshman year!) As I was telling someone the other day, one of the difficult things about Elena leaving U of M, was that she was and IS a genuine friend, and that's hard to find. She's very selfless (remember sneaking me food in Fall 2007?), and she's never abandoned me for any clique, significant other, or organization/group. It's hard to choose, but some of my favorite memories with Elena are the times when we were OWT freshmen! When I say we went to ev-er-ry-thang, I mean, EV-ER-RY-THANG. Studio 4, Club Oz, Sigma parties, Alpha parties, Kappa parties, Que parties, Lambda parties, Pike parties (failed attempt), parties in the Union, Black Homecomings, parties on the Diag- we went and did everything together. Let's not forget the night we decided to "ghostride the whip." So, as grad school looms ahead, and people start advertising for upcoming events, icebreakers, and so forth, it will take everything that I have to not snatch up my phone and text her "Man, what YOU doin?" My bestie is not here to hang with me.... In any case, I shall not look at the distance as a destroyer of a 5-year friendship! I'm honored to be your Dean, soror, party buddy, but most of all, best friend. I love you and I owe you a visit too. Just make room for me!

Reflecting on Bridge going into my freshman year, and now as an Alum of U of M, I am forever grateful of the Summer Bridge Program. Yes it took away my summer in 2005, yes it forced me to go to school earlier than anticipated, and yes it took my precious, open house funds, but it gave me something more valuable instead- friends. And I can honestly say that these are friends who I've shared majority of my best memories with at U of M. From spending countless hours playing Scene-It, partying on the Diag for Vanguards, making videos of me beating up John B in hallways, to hiding in dorm rooms to celebrate my birthday with cupcakes since a certain person was on "lock-down." *cough* It frustrates me to not have documented these memories, but they will, as they always do, resurface when I least expect it.

Until then, I will cherish spending time with the people who are still here including my wonderful, caring bestie with a vocabulary that craps on Noah Webster's, Brittney Williams, the loving, always cheerful, and strong in faith Sharonda, my "down for anything" and super intelligent roomie Arkisha, the cool, funny but "proned to start fights" Jason, the "no CPT time, but I can be late" and talented Corey, my Bridge buddy/Greek cousin/Chicago traveling partner Anfernee, the Gorgeously Dynamic women of GAMMA DELTA, as well as a list of others. I love you all and thank for adding to my Michigan experience for I couldn't have made it through without you.

GO BLUE!

...You Sing a Sad Song Just to Turn it Around

Song for today: Daniel Powter- "Bad Day"

'Nuff said.

You're Never Satisfied...

Last night, I had an interesting, and shocking quite frankly, conversation with an "old flame." I asked how he was, and his response once again could be summed up in one sentence- "life sucks." A sentence he'd been giving since day one. He is an older gentlemen (just a year shy of his 30s) and basically not satisfied with where he's at in life right now. Out of respect for his privacy, I won't disclose the list of complaints that he gave, but they were things that he did not have the power to change, or he was not proactive enough in changing it. Because there is much that he wants but hasn't got, he's tried to talk to God more in hopes that it'll pay off in the end. " I mean, I pray everyday, I read my prayer book, I read the Bible, what else does God want me to do??"

Whoa.

I told him that just because he did all of those things, that didn't make him a better Christian ONLY because he wasn't doing it for the right reasons. While there is no "right" reason in particular to pray, I'm pretty sure God wouldn't appreciate someone coming before him to pray for material things ONLY. He spent a good half hour arguing that he wasn't praying for material possessions, before finally conceding to my accusations. Not before a final statement: "Well, I look at being a Christian as having a job. What's the point of doing the work if you're not gonna get paid?"




Dear readers, I could tell you where the argument went after that, but that would be pages long. Regardless, I was able to conclude from the argument that he is someone who will never be satisfied. One of those people who can have all of the riches of the world only to scoff at them.

" Aside from a job, money, and a house, what is it that you really want -------?" I asked.

"I just want to be happy."

"Well I'll pray for your happiness."

"Nah, but then I don't have anyone to share it with."

You catch my drift?

So what do I do with someone who should have been disposed from my life months ago? The correct answer would be: get rid of 'im. However, I'm having an internal conflict with ignoring someone who is crying out for help, and contemplates death as a better alternative to living.

What would you do?

God is a DJ, Life is a Dance Floor...

If you haven't caught on to the pattern (which I'm sure you have), each of my blogs are named after a song title or a song lyric. I fervently believe that life has a soundtrack, and each day features a new song and/or artist. Today's song?: Jay-Z- "So Ambitious."

Slowly but surely, the pieces to the puzzle are falling into place in my life: grad school, my first apartment with NO roommate, working, and maybe the start of something new with a certain someone. I'm satisfied with my accomplishments, but I want more. I'm always pushing myself to go above and beyond, I just need to make sure it's never to the point when I'm turning into an overachiever (again.)

For the curious, yesterday's song was Lil Wayne's "Burn this City." Only because I was extremely bored and I had a box of matches. O__O

Bad Habits

While I have a list of bad habits, there are two that I really need to change:

1. Making eye contact- When I was younger, I was shy. Not just shy, but painfully shy. So while I had no trouble making and keeping friends, it was just the whole "process" of meeting new people that was difficult. I was very quiet and I did not like to talk because I felt people would think what I said was "stupid" or I simply didn't know how to make conversation. In any case, the shyness was sadly mistakened for being mean, and for a good portion of my childhood, people called me "evil." They attributed my quietness to not caring and read-what I thought to be my normal facial expression- as me rolling eyes. I'd managed to avoid plenty of fights from girls who thought I was "grimming" (childish) them. So, to save everyone the trouble, I got into the habit of not looking people in the eyes. No one could say I looked evil or looked at them the wrong way if I didn't make eye contact at all right?

Unfortunately, that bad habit carried into my adult years. While I have enough confidence to go into an interview or a business meeting and talk to people face-to-face, I find myself in conversation with family members, old friends, etc. looking at the wall, looking at the floor or looking past them. My exes will be the first to tell you that there were many times when we'd get into arguments simply because they wanted to stare at me. "Stop looking at me," I'd say, "You make me feel as if there's something on my face."

Which leads to bad habit #2, that is, in my opinion, quite HI-larious:

2) Paranoia/Conspiracy Theorist- Too often I hear people abuse the phrase "I don't trust anyone." Yeah. And while I share those same sentiments, my lack of "trust" is somewhat taken to the extreme. I believe there is a conspiracy behind...everything. Illumanati, McDonalds, Apple, the Washington Monument, the dollar bill, the Michigan Union at my school- everything. While I don't actually believe in ALL the theories that people, I do believe there's a conspiracy behind a lot of things. Will I bother to find them? Nope.

The paranoia is not that extreme. I just can't walk home by myself without looking over my shoulder 10 times or more. Or, leave my apartment without my house being clean or my bed being spread. But that probably spills over into being a little OCD.

Gosh, where's Dr. Phil when you need him? Dr. Dre? Anyone?

You Can Easily Get Past, But That Chapter Is Done

Keeping with my goal of reading four books before the end of summer, I've began a new book called "Middlesex" by author Jeffrey Eugenides. I first read the book on one of my many trips to Borders, and fell in love with it after reading the first twenty pages. I was finally able to purchase it two days ago, and so far, it's a very engaging read (though sometimes complicated.) I could give you a synopsis of what the book is about but I haven't got that far into it. If I had to give everything in a gist, it's a story of a hermaphrodite from Detroit, Michigan.



Now for those who know me, you would make the assumption that I only chose the book due to the fact that the main character is a hermaphrodite, BUT, what made me grab the book off the shelf was that its plot was centered in Detroit and metro Detroit (specifically Grosse Pointe.) Eugenides is also the author of "The Virgin Suicides" which I've only known to be a movie. According to the always reliable Wikipedia (insert sarcasm), The Virgin Suicides is a novel that describes a community's reaction to the suicides of five, young sisters. It is also centered in Grosse Pointe, Michigan and a book that has been added to my "must reads" for the summer.

Speaking of books, I don't think there's been a time when I've ever been disappointed walking into a bookstore...wait, that's a lie. First, I'll say for the record that I don't believe in limiting yourself to one genre of books. With there being a plethora of genres- fiction, nonfiction, autobiographies, romance, self-help, horror, reference, sci-fi, western, mystery, etc.- it's crazy to read only type of book. To have a proclivity for a specific category or author is understandable, but to remain in one position in the "grand world of books" is foolishness.

Which brings me to my disappointment in my recent trips to bookstores: the "African American Literature" section. Literature. L-I-T-E-R-A-T-U-R-E. Do you know what books are under this category next to the likes of Angelou, Wright, and Ellison?

This...



Maybe this...



Or how about this?



As if black people didn't have enough negative stereotypes to deal with in the media (Antoine Dodson anyone?), we get to go into Borders to "our" section just to be slapped in the face which images of "thug life" and a "hustler's grind."

The Merriam Webster's definition for literature is as follows: "writings in prose or verse; especially : writings having excellence of form or expression and expressing ideas of permanent or universal interest." I'm sorry, but stories of how Tyquisha struggled to help her and six kids survive while her baby daddy was on lock down for drug possesion does not qualify as literature. And true, no one died and made me a book critic but I can honestly say that I've taken the time to read three or more "hood novels" to make a stand against them. Every now and then, a good one slips through the crack ("The Coldest Winter Ever" is and shall remain the best hood novel in life. Period.), but for the most part it's mindless garbage, and should have it's own section in the bookstore: "Urban Trash." "Ghetto Garbage." Maybe "Books to Use as Firewood?"

*In Antoine Dodson voice* "Now run tel' dat."

Cuz I Just Heard Some Real Bad News

I make it a point to somehow stay on top of the news and other happenings in the world. If it's not reading CNN or Freep on the computer or my cell, it's watching the news after I get off work. It is a bittersweet thing though. As I stated before, I love learning new things and the news is a great outlet for that. On the other hand, I just don't like the news. It sounds very contradictory, but I'm not about to write a diatribe of how "FOX is Lucifer" or "the news is full of propaganda, and is a structure created to manipulate and control our minds!!!!!"

*sigh*

No. I just don't like the news, but I feel it necessary to be educated on what's going on around me. If that doesn't make sense, let me give you an example. As an urban planning graduate student, I'm required to take a variety of courses related to neighborhood development, community development, crime in the cities, urban design-courses that I am DYING to take. Nevertheless, there are those good ol' prerequisites: economics, statistics, law, and planning theory -the courses that will KILL me. While I am literally dreading beginning my prereqs in September, they are necessary to take because they are the foundation of urban planning. It's that age old complaint of "I don't wanna do it, but I have to." Might as well toss work under that category too.

ANYWHO, every now and then, I luck up on articles that really capture my attention and incorporate things that I'm really passionate about. For instance, check out the video and article I found on CNN.com:

http://www.cnn.com/2010/US/07/28/new.york.essence.magazine/index.html

Aside from the fact that Anderson Cooper is in the video (#swoon), it managed to discuss two things that I love- fashion and race. Well fashion wasn't a really big focus, but it was nonetheless part of the issue seeing that the Essence Magazine editor is under fire for hiring a white fashion director. Before reading the article, my initial reaction was that of disappointment. I am an avid Essence reader, I know the history of the magazine very well, and it's difficult to accept that someone who was not African American was hired to work at an African American magazine. As Davis stated, it would be different if the magazine was intended for all races, but it was specifically created to cater to black women. Essence was an idea that developed at a conference for black entrepreneurs by a group of prominent black men (haha) including noted photographer Gordon Parks, who noticed the lack of a magazine for African American women. Debuting in 1970 with the picture of a black model with an afro gracing its cover, it promised to be "the premiere lifestyle, fashion and beauty magazine for African-American women."



(That of course is not the original cover -_____-)

While Davis made a great argument, I appreciated Roland Martin's counterargument on the lack of opportunities in the magazine industry as whole and had the tables been reversed, it would be an even bigger outrage if a black person was denied the opportunity to work at a predominantly white magazine.

Now which side of the argument did I choose to take? That, I'm still thinking about. I've watched the video three times already to see if I missed anything which...I...didn't, but the point is, I'm trying to look at the issue in a non-biased way seeing that I have the tendency to be "pro-black" on certain subjects.

What do you think?

I'm On the Pursuit of Happiness, and I Know...

Short Term Goals:

1. Find a work study job (even though I have two jobs already)
2. Pay off all my debts with that HOT refund check
3. Go to NY with my frat, and ATL with Millie
4. Successfully transfer into the Zeta Nu Zeta graduate chapter
5. Purchase Street Fighter vs. Tekken video game
6. Buy furniture for my ONE-bedroom apartment (#pow)
7. Go to the Em and Jay concert
8. Learn a new dish to cook every week
9. Read four books before the summer ends
10. Stay in the house one weekend and do absolutely nothing but sleep.


Long Term Goals:

1. Build a stronger relationship with God
2. Finish weeding out the unnecessary friends/acquaintances in my life, and tie up loose ends
3. Get my hair to be both healthier and longer
4. Obtain my Masters and graduate cum laude
5. Travel to Rome and/or Madrid
6. But first get over my fear of planes
7. Marry (I guess...)
8. Live in Chicago for a few years
9. Become THEE best urban planner and re-design my old neighborhood
10. Don't worry, be happy

Be In The Position To Make Me Feel So....

I believe that I've found the perfect balance between self-esteem and confidence. It's not too little where I constantly seek out my imperfections, but it's not too much where I am vain and narcissistic. I'm at a point where I accept who I am, flaws and all, and I'm proud of myself for FINALLY getting to this point. It's been a journey. To be accepted by others, but to never really accept myself.

I was never the girl to be picked on in school. For the most part, I was always hung with the "popular" kids and kept a close-knit group of friends. I noticed at a young age however, that I began to compare myself to other girls. Jessica had a perm, so I wanted one too. Nicole was going through "changes," what the hell was wrong with my body? Taylor had 100 Barbie Dolls, so I wanted 150. As if it wasn't bad enough I was comparing myself physically, and I was slowly becoming materialistic which was only compounded in middle school. I joined a group of friends who wore all of the popular name brands at the time- Guess, Coogi, DKNY, Coach, etc. Their parents lived in expensive neighborhoods, and/or worked at Fortune 500 companies. I was just a girl from a hardworking, blue-collar family on the westside of Detroit. So....I became obsessed. I HAD to shop in Hudson's (now Macy's), I HAD to wear only designer clothing, I HAD to look like them. Not because they wanted me too, but because I chose to. In the end, I still wasn't happy. I never was satisfied. I never had enough, and selfishly, I put my parents through the ordeal because they were ones who gave me the money to live a lifestyle that was beyond our means.



Luckily I enrolled in a high school that required uniform, so the clothing obsession went out the window. Consequently, a lot of things went out the window because my family got hit hard financially. My new obsession was to do any and everything to get into the top school in Michigan, earn my degree, get a high-paying job, and help my family.




I came into college still in an awkward stage, but this time, I did not change who I was to blend in. And in the end, it worked. I found an AMAZING group of friends. Ones who loved me for who I am....caterpillar eyebrows, K-Swiss, and all (inside joke.)





At 23, I feel GREAT. Do I still look in the mirror and see my imperfectios? Yes, I'm human and who's perfect? But I'm happy with the woman that I turned out to be. I'm still growing, and I'm still finding out new things about myself. I noticed a change in my taste, the way I walk, the way I dress, the way I think- and I love it. Yup.


Let me go before I climb on my desk and start singing "I'm Every Woman" at work.

Keep Ya Heart Three Stacks

Lately, I've come to realize that when it comes to men, I can really be, let's see..........cold-hearted. It wasn't always like that mind you. As a matter of fact, it's a change that transpired earlier this year due to two people, both of which I aspired to be in relationships with. One, however, hurt me more than the other. It's never fair to lead someone into believing that there is hope for relationship by using empty promises, or that same tired line- "Right now, I'm just tryna work on myself." That's cool. But to verbally express to someone that you have plans on building a future with them and turn around to do "what he did" baffles me. The kicker is, when things didn't work out with the other woman, he decides to try his damnedest to woo me back. In addition, his excuse was "I found myself in love with two women at the same time. I had to let one of you go. But now, I see that I messed up. I love you. Gimme a chance?"

My response: "Praise Jay-sus, you had an epiphany! Welcome home boo!"


ACTUALLY, due to the fact that this is a public blog, I'll spare you what my real response was. All I can say is that it sickened me. Literally. I got off the phone feeling as if I'd caught the bubonic plague or something. I'm never one to be caught up in emotion. For the most part, I pride myself in being able to tell someone if I'm feeling them or not. For majority of my college career, I put relationships on the back burner because I didn't want to be distracted. Men come and go. No need to get starry-eyed over an attractive man, or blush whenever a guy throws me a compliment. Therefore, when situations like this come up, it has a pretty big effect on me. It takes a lot, and I do mean A LOT, for me to let my shield down, open my heart and mind, and allow myself to trust someone. When all is betrayed, I'm caught off guard. I don't know how to handle the emotions and so in a way, I take it out on others. Others being men.

Save me the lecture however. I already know the whole "You can't let one person mess it up for everyone else." I know that. I completely understand that. But until I figure it out, three stacks homie.

That's Just The Way It Is

I spoke with my mom yesterday, and she asked what was going on in my life. I covered the usual topics- work, my preparations for grad school, the friends moving to other states, MEN, and financial difficulties. As I was speaking to her, I literally had an epiphany on the phone. Before, I had this idea that since I resigned to stay in Ann Arbor for an additional two years, there was nothing changing in my life. That it was still the same ol' routine- work, sleep, and play (sometimes.) Yet, as I reflected on the things that I was saying to her, I realized that for the first time in 23 years, I felt like an adult. Unlike other young adults, I was never one to say to my parents, family, or friends at that, that I was "grown" when I reached 18. The word "grown" encompasses many things including financial independence, living on your own, and in general, supporting yourself. In addition, it goes beyond the material possessions. It is getting into the mindset that you're at a stage in life where things around you change, people change, and it's a matter of learning how to adapt to those changes.

We're human and it's human nature to complain about things. I am THEE most guilty of that. But in the conversation with my mom, I found myself on the verge of sounding like a "pity party." "Grad school is gonna be so hard." It's grad school, what do you expect Christina? "I'm having money problems right now." What adult doesn't? "Man, I'll be sad once my friends move..." OR, you could be happy that they're embarking on journey to start a new life in a place with better opportunities.

Those responses of course were not from my mother, but me to myself. My mom, being the caring person that she is, simply listened to my complaints, before offering a valuable piece of advice: " You're getting older Chrissy. There are things that come with age and there are people who are in your life only for a season. Don't look at change as bad thing, but view it as new beginning." So with that being said, I will slowly learn how to embrace change. Adapting has never been a problem, but accepting new situations has.

No worries. I'm forever in the process of bettering myself. What's the one saying? oh yeah "The biggest room in the world is the room for improvement."

And woo chil' lemme tell ya, my room is BIG.

You Just Keep on Pushing My Love Over the Borderline

I definitely should have been an 80s baby. No, not like born in the 80s (clearly, I was born in '87) but I should have been a teenager during the time period. I LOVE everything about the era- the clothes, the toys, the television shows, and most importantly, THE MUSIC. It never fails. The first thing that I do when I wake up: turn the t.v. on and change to the 80s music channel so I can get dressed. The other day, I heard Madonna's "Borderline" and I completely forgot how much I liked the song. Today at work, I'm pretty sure I played it a good 12 times.



Madonna was definitely the epitome of what an "80s girl" was back then. Crazy hair, thick eyebrows, flashy, wore tons of accessories, etc. Of course, I would argue that Cyndi Lauper was THEE 80s girl, but some would beg to differ. Eh, who cares.

While rotating through the playlist, I came across Tears for Fears, a duo who were famous for hits such as "Shout" and "Head Over Heels." They're not my favorite group from the period, but they're definitely one of the best. Sad that they broke up. The lead singer had an amazing voice.



If I had to choose however, I would have to say that Duran Duran is my favorite band from the 80s. Hands down. "The Reflex," "Hungry Like the Wolf," "Union of the Snake," "Wild Boys"- how could you NOT like a Duran Duran song?? My sister Cathy (who was a teenager during the height of 80s music) introduced me to them when I was a young girl. She actually introduced me to various styles of music including AC/DC, Def Leppard, INXS, Dr. Dre, Depeche Mode, Tupac, and Guns 'n Roses just to name a few. To her, she may have just been listening to music during one of the many days when she was (forced) to babysit Joyce and I, but little did she know, she would instill in me a love for different music genres that I would not have been exposed to growing up the neighborhood that I did. Thanks Cat :-)

Randomness

Random thought of the day: While I am completely comfortable with my intelligence, it always makes me feel uncomfortable when someone says "You're so smart" or "You're such an intelligent young woman." It's even worse when someone equates the fact that I have my Bachelors and will soon have my Masters (#pow) from the esteemed University of Michigan, that I must be some kind of egghead that spends most of their time doing work and hiding in books (well...)


I won't lie. I have this thirst for knowledge that will never be quench. As a matter of fact, I made it a point to learn a new fact everyday. Today's fact: "an eyelash lives 150-200 days until they fall off." May not be a great fact, but it's a fact nonetheless!

And the Beat Goes on...

FINALLY getting to update my blog. Of course I would love to do it more often but seeing that my raggedy Acer has finally kicked the bucket, I don't have access to a computer. Yeaaa....

Just got back from spending the 4th with my family. It was very, er, bittersweet. Yes, I was happy to be with them. My mom and I tried new recipes, went out with my cousin Saturday night, and to my aunt's Sunday for a cookout. Yet, I still felt as if something was missing- Detroit. I realized that with the exception of trips to Mississippi or Chicago on the 4th, I've always spent the holiday in Detroit. We'd have plenty of food, drinks, and it would be no need to purchase fireworks since everyone on the block had enough (illegal) fireworks to make the Target fireworks look like a joke. I miss home soooo much. It's weird because the whole scenario behind WHY we left Detroit pains me, and I believe I've never actually dealt with the pain. As I was telling my cousin Millie yesterday, it hasn't registered in my mind that we left Coyle. In my mind, I'm just away at college, Coyle is still there, and I just haven't been home to visit? Sounds crazy I know, but I was born and raised in Detroit. That house has countless memories, some of which bring a tear to my eye when I think of it. But change is supposed to be good right? Everyone LOVES change. Yeah. Save that ish for the birds.

On a different note, I've started writing poetry again. It’s a little known talent that I have that I don't always like sharing with others. When I was younger, I used to win awards for my poetry. Now, I'm more hesitant to share my thoughts and feelings (eh, aside from blogging) with others. Seeing that I have grown emotionally, spiritually, mentally and have went through some trying experiences, my poems cover material that may be shocking to others. Maybe not shocking, but it would have them look at me in a different light. “Wait, why’d you write that?” “Yep I told you so..” “OMG, why didn’t you tell me?!” Then I would to go through the trouble of explaining why I wrote what I wrote, and what happened, blah, blah, blah. I would like to think that sometimes, an “artist” cannot explain their thought process. Therefore, they are private. However, I gave you sample of the last line of my recent poem with the title of this blog. :-)

Before I go, I would like to point out that I'm dealing with a lot of emotions right now, anxious and confused being the top two. But I'll just sit back and see how things work. I’m ready.

New to blogging, NOT to writing

I decided to bite and start a blog...go figure. It's 2010 and I'm just starting a blog. I wouldn't be surprised if blogging became extinct next year seeing that we live in a world that is obsessed with invention and innovation. That's a good thing! I guess. I can still keep up with the changes, unlike my parents who barely know how to use email (bless their hearts.)

Anywho, as I said in the title, I'm new to blogging, not writing. Meaning, I write in my spare time already. Okay, so it's a little bit of a lie. Over the years, I've had a few failed attempts of trying to keep a diary or journal. My very first journal was a Christmas gift from my mom with the Winnie-the Pooh character "Tigger" on the front. It was locked by a key and I held on to it for dear life. I still have it to this day, and sorry to say, it pains me to read some of the hurtful things that I wrote. On that same note, it was understandable. I was dealing with a lot at that age, and it came out through anger and frustration.

It didn't get any better with the next book. This time, it was a black and white composition notebook with a large "DO NOT READ- FOR CHRISTINA'S EYES ONLY!!" plastered on the front. Yes, I still have it too, and it's HI-larious to read seeing that I wrote it during those wonderful years before and during high school. It has "All About Me" lists in it for each year (lists that basically followed how my taste changed over the years, i.e. favorite movies for 2002, favorite food 2001, etc., etc.) as well as my thoughts on things like September 11th and the infamous blackout. In all, it's a highly embarrassing book because I was SO immature, it sickened me. But nevertheless, a great reminder that shows me where I came from. And chil', that's a lonnnnnnnnnnnnnnggggg way.

Since that journal, there has been more failed attempts, but this time, I think I got it. A few weeks ago, I invested in a black, leather-bound journal from Borders. At this point in my life, I feel somewhat, er, "disturbed"- mentally, physically, and emotionally. So the journal has been my form of therapy since I have a problem discussing my problems with others. So far, I've been doing pretty well in writing in it. Still keeping my fingers crossed however that I will have to diligence to write in it as much as possible.

As for blogging? Well, I always have a lot of my mind that I don't necessarily get to share with others. The journal is and will forever be private but blogging will grant me the opportunity to put some of my thoughts and emotions out there for others to read and maybe comment. Idk. We shall see. Btw, check out the pic I fell in LOVE with today. I'm sure my Dean would appreciate it too (it's her birthday today too-HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAN!)