U Don't Know

Looking at past conversations I've had with male friends, it's interesting to see the different perspectives on what they believe the black woman wants. What's funnier is they're able to determine those needs when they are, in fact, not black women. 0__o

The opposite sex will always have an opinion of the other sex's wants and how they act, and usually these opinions are grounded in personal experience. I pulled the top three myths that I felt were the most controversial and antithetical to all- well let's say many- black women wants when it comes to relationships. So sit back...


Myth #1: Black women cannot date because they always want to get into relationships, and the primary reason they get into relationships is to rush to the altar.


It's quite hilarious to say the word "relationship" to a man and he looks as if he caught a stomach virus mid-conversation. Don't think too highly of yourself. Women will bring up the subject of relationships NOT because they want to be in one with you, but because they want an understanding of your stance on relationships and where you're at now. That way, we won’t put ourselves in the position of dating a guy and developing feelings, just for them to turn around and say "I'm not ready yet." And yes, marriage is a beautiful institution that is highly celebrated in our community. But you won't find "get married and ish" on our daily to-do list. Bringing in other factors into the equation (women who conscientiously choose to be single, women who are career-driven and not family-focused, etc.), you'll find that while we may desire marriage in the future, it's not a "prize" to be won, but a blessing bestowed upon us when it is the RIGHT TIME. If you are dating a woman and the topic of relationships is brought up, do not shy away from it. Be open and honest. It will save the two of you a lot of confusion and/or heartbreak.

Myth #2: Black women demand an unreasonable amount of attention.


Women are emotional creatures. That is no surprise to anyone, and as much as we'd like to deny it, we are. As with anything with emotions, there requires a certain amount of attention. Correct? Okay. Attention does not require a) spending every waking moment with you, b) texting 12 hours out of the day, and c) talking on the phone for the other 12 hours. I can't define what an "appropriate amount" of attention is when the needs of each woman varies, but some is better than none. If you're dating someone, you shouldn't have to check in on her EVERY day, but does it hurt to call sometime throughout the week? Or at least send a DM that says "hi?" We don’t need care and attention 24/7. We just want to feel as if you still have a genuine interest in our well being and getting to know us, without having to make the first contact all of the time. A little attention goes a long way.

Myth #3: Black women only seek men who have ample amounts of money and can take care of them.


Contrary to popular belief, Kim Kardashian is not the role model of the black women population. Do not take the fact that because a woman wants a man who’s financially sound, she is a gold digger. And the operating phrase is financially sound. That does not mean it's necessary for him to have a six or seven figure salary, but he should be able to support himself first and foremost, and a family in the future. Furthermore, the amount of educated, black women is growing every day, and we are continuing to blaze trails in different fields and territory. Those upper-level positions that were once out of reach are now obtainable goals, and the support of a man is not always wanted nor needed. It would, however, be nice to find a man that's on the same level whether it's financially, mentally, or spiritually. What good is your money to me if I can't connect with you on any other level?

Here's what may be a revelation to men: it is the little things that makes a woman happy. The little things include opening the car door, dropping off soup when she's sick, surprising her with favorite candy when you hang out, sending a 'good morning' text to start her day (let me stop- I'm naming all of my favorite things.)

I understand people who structure viewpoints around experience. That's what experience does. It shapes our beliefs and even our outlook on life. But it does not make anyone the Dalai Lama of understanding things such as relationships just because they've encountered ‘type A man one too many times,’ or because they have a plethora of female friends who are the epitome of a needy, money-hungry, marriage-thirsty women. Furthermore, it's impossible to categorize all black women because we were each taught different life lessons. Some are born as princesses and raised as queens, told to never let a man treat her as anything less. Many are groomed to follow the older adage of the "submissive housewife" who caters to her husband's every needs, does the cooking, cleaning, caring of the children, and puts work (if she has a job) second to her family. Then there are the very blunt lessons that rests at opposite ends of the spectrum: the "go for the gold" or the "you can do bad all by yourself" theories.

Regardless, you can never really guess the mentality of a black woman and her expectations when they all differ. We cannot allow past experiences and faulty stereotypes to hinder us from dating or getting into relationships- that goes for both men and women. And with that being said, I would like to invite one of my guy friends to write a similar blog debunking myths about black men because there are a TON of them out there too. My top three are:

1. All black men cheat.
2. All black men aspire to be athletes, rappers, or have any other career where they can get money off of talent and not education and/or hard work.
3. All black men come from broken homes and suffer from "I ain't have no daddy" syndrome.

The list goes on but you get the point. Can't write on it because, alas, I am 100% woman.

I especially invite you to write a response if you see one of your statements the black women myths listed above....still love ya tho!

...Gone For a Minute, Now I'm Back With the Jump-Off

Last post --> September 28th. Smh...

I'm back! Well, not really. Given that I'll be plunging headfirst into pre-finals and finals work within these next four weeks, I'll just say that I'll be dropping in periodically.

What to say about the past few months? I've added people to my life, I've subtracted, and others are still part of an equation that I can't seem to solve. To say that I have senioritis is putting it mildly. I AM ready to graduate. On the other hand, I still enjoy the comfort of being in school and if I were to walk across the stage tomorrow, I'd probably be dragged kicking and screaming into the workforce. My mantra: I'll get over it.

The biggest change regarded a person who I've discussed before in previous blogs. It was a relationship that had transpired over the past year or so and was abruptly altered due to a simple question that I asked and he could not answer. I was (indirectly) told that I wasn't good enough, and had to sit and watch the fragile structure of our "friendship" crumple before my eyes. Thank goodness for prayer and faith because for a brief moment, I believed I'd be searching for my heart and self-esteem amongst the rubble.

Moving forward, it seems like we're trying to salvage the few remaining remnants, however my attention is elsewhere- on new things and new people. Business offers have been pouring in ranging from being hired by planning and development firm in Detroit, offered membership into a "young and talented professionals" group, to discussing a possible editor position for a new and upcoming blog. In addition, I finally received my match in the Big Brothers Big Sisters program, and after an awkward first meeting, my Little and I are getting along great. To see her light up when she comes out of the classroom makes the time commitment and the trek to school every week worth it. And if and when I survive this semester, yours truly will be headed to M-I-A, AGAIN, for my 25th birthday. Two words: "it's on." That's all I have to say about that.

Where do I go from here? I'm not sure. It's like having three mystery doors in front of me and I need to decide which one to open. On the bright side, I at least know what my priorities are. Oh, and in regards to dating and relationships, well....

That's something you'll have to ask me about in person.

Hey Mr. Carter....

I've been neglecting my blog (obviously) due to school, work, extracurriculars, and maintaining a blog writer position with ULoop. I shall be back!

Until then....

Enjoy pictures from my sketchbook. I decided to start drawing again since my other pastime (reading) is being dominated by 100-page readings for class. When life calms down- which is looking like that will be May 2012- I'll be back on the ol' dusty blogging trail again.

Hear My Call

In my very first blog entry, I recalled my initial adventures in writing- one being a diary and the other a journal. Given today marks a decade since America witnessed one of its greatest tragedies and senseless acts of violence, I decided to rummage through old bins to find my black and white composition notebook. And voila:

This journal documents my evolution of thought and emotion in my teenage years, and is at times embarrassing to read. With that aside, the reason I returned to this notebook is to see what I felt 10 years ago on this day. Slightly chilling to read. Not so much for the content, but because I was transported back to the young state of mind who yet to experience unadulterated fear. Here, is my 9/11 journal entry- unfiltered, unedited, and 100% the thoughts of a 14-year old Christina:

9/11/01

I have a lot to tell you. First Joyce had a Sweet 16 party in Minnesota. It went great! She got money, games, jewelry, etc.. Did you know I got into AGBU? Thank God! It's soooo fun! (But more on that later) Oh my gosh, Aaliyah was killed in a plane crash August 25th!!! She was in a private plane that was overloaded.I was so sad, I broke out crying. That shows that you can die at any age. She died at 22 after she recorded an album, and after she filmed two movies...Also, New York's World Trade Center and Twin Towers and D.C.'s Pentagon was hit by terrorist planes! We might have to go to war!!!!!!!! I pray to *God* we don't! I was scared , but praying comforted. Thank God for prayers. Tonight I will pray that people will be comforted and for the families of the 1000's lives lost in those buildings. Thank you God for the gift of life!!! *Dear God, please don't let us go to war! Please! Protect me and my family and whole U.S. dear Lord and please be with President Bush. Guide him and help him to do the right thing. I love you and I praise your holy name. Amen.*

That's The Way It Goes On Love's Train....

*Insert CD*

*Press 'Play'*

1. C.R.U.S.H. - Ciara
2. You Send Me Swingin' - Mint Condition
3. Better Man - Musiq Soulchild
4. Love Ballad - Jeffrey Osborne
5. We're Not Making Love No More - Dru Hill
6. I Get So Lonely - Janet Jackson
7. Only When You're Lonely - Ginuwine
8. You Keep Me Hangin' On - The Supremes
9. After the Love is Gone - Earth, Wind & Fire
10. A Love Of Your Own - The Average White Band
11. Breakdown - Mariah Carey ft. Bone, Thugs-n-Harmony
12. Le BOOM Vent Suite - Jill Scott
13. Love's Train - ConFunKShun

*Eject*

Love's Soundtrack.

Start to finish.

Through a Pencil And Leak on the Sheet...

It's always fun to look back at old papers and poems to see how my writing has evolved:

Christina A. Carter
July 08, 2005
College Writing-125
Mrs. Josie Kearns

It was an Easter Sunday. The altar overflowed with beautiful, white lilies, and the sanctuary glowed with vibrant colors from the sunlight that poured through stained-glass windows. Children scurried through the church in their brand new outfits, careless of the scuff marks they made on their shiny, patent leather shoes. The air had only the slightest scent of baked chicken, greens, and cornbread from the cooks preparing an immaculate, Easter dinner for after service. And though you could smell the delicious food being cooked, the scent of cologne dominated the air. It wasn’t the smell of the young boys who greeted one another with handshakes and slaps on the backs, complimenting each others' crisp, stylish suits or alligator-skin shoes. Nor the scent of the older men, who sat towards the back of the church, impatiently staring at gold wristwatches, ignoring the glares from angry wives as they discussed cars and sports. It was a smell that emanated from the church women, young and old alike. Some women strutted through the church in their revealing Easter dresses, smiling at the men and oblivious of the stares coming from the congregation. Others continuously fanned themselves to keep cool, shouted an “Amen!” to the reverend’s every word, and whispered threatening words to impatient children squirming in their seats. It was also the smell of the elderly women, who proudly sat in the front pews, wearing elaborate hats, calling everybody “Sugar.” That smell has stayed in my memory because it has more than one meaning to it. It not only reminds of what was happening on that particular Easter morning, but that very Sunday, I was baptized.

I hesitated as I descended the stairs to the pulpit, nervously glancing at the basin of the still, cerulean water. Because I was only a ten year old child, the water frightened me, and I questioned if I would choke or, even worse, drown. It wasn’t until I looked up at the pastor that I felt a sense of peace. An elderly man, with black-rimmed spectacles and a warm inviting smile, his presence alone caused my fear to subside. I knew I was ready. Shivering as I placed my feet into the water, I gripped my white robe and walked towards the pastor’s outstretched hand. I closed my eyes, telling myself to remain calm and count down from three:

3…

The pastor raises his arms and says a prayer, asking for God to shower his blessings and love upon me.

2…

He gently places his hand upon my forehead, and tells me to hold breath.

1…

He quickly tilts me back into the water, and whispers “You are blessed, my child.”

It was done. I searched the congregation for my parents, and spotted them amongst a faction of the other proud parents of recently baptized children. They both sat with their heads high, tears welled up in their eyes. I, too, held my head high. Though it was a simple event, it was momentous, a day that I will never forget.


Eh. Not too bad.

Ring The Alarm

The race card. It is a card that all minorities hold in their deck, and a move that some choose to play. In many cases, it is justified. Whether it's institutional, ideological, aversive, or individual, there's always incidences or remarks made that are harsh reminders of the racism that continues to permeate society. Other times, it is a means for people to make accusations against the 'The Man' who is the blame for every health problem, unpaid bill, dirty diaper, and crack in the sidewalk. So I try steer from jumping to conclusions about someone's actions or certain events without having done proper research. I don't want to be that one person who's always shouting:


The race card synopsis is only a disclaimer. I had write it before beginning the true subject of my blog:

The other night out of sheer curiosity, I decided to watch the show 'Toddlers & Tiaras.'(Judging commences.) It was exactly what I thought it would be. Stage moms who paid thousands of dollars to make their daughters look like Barbie dolls for a large, plastic crown. Watching the mothers interact with their daughters was shocking, and at times, offensive. And, as with all 'shocking and offensive' things, intriguing. The show has already received much backlash ranging from the "robbing their innocence" stance to "that child's behavior is out of control!" While those concerns were valid, here's what interested me during the particular episode that I watched:



In the video, four-year old Allyson adores "Be-yon-ce" and even has a stage outfit mimicking a wedding dress the superstar wore during a stage performance. Her mother gushes that Allyson "always liked dark skin and thought that it was beautiful" and never picks out a "peach" doll, only brown dolls. While it may seem like an innocent infatuation with a pop star, we later learn that Allyson prays for Jesus to make her brown, and was heartbroken when her spray tan was not dark enough. Towards the end of the show, you see a wide-eyed Allyson gazing at a fellow African American contestant before telling her "You look so....cute."

True to my nature, I went to the Internet to see what was the response to the episode. Much of the audience thought that Allyson's behavior was "adorable." Some only criticized the mom for spray tanning her "too dark" and jokingly wished for Allyson to find a "hot black guy who she could have biracial babies with in the future." Others just didn't want to touch the subject.

Based on the responses read, I found that we are too quick to disregard the thought process of the innocent because we assume that they are too young to understand, and such things won't negatively impact their psyche. It is evident that Allyson was raised to love and appreciate different races and ethnicities, an applaudable job on behalf of her parents. How often do you see a white child playing with black dolls? However, it makes me wonder what implications it will have on Allyson's development. Is it something that's simply a phase and will pass as she gets older? Or, will it continue to manifest into something more complicated resulting in self-deprecation and/or caricaturing black people seen on tv?

Another question to ponder dear readers....I was mad however that she didn't win. Hmph.

Melancholy Hill

I had a sickening revelation today, and I'm not sure what to make of it. I've always been one to say that I don't have mistakes, but learning experiences. I live a life with no regrets and avoid participating in anything that I have to second guess. By no means am I perfect, but I prefer to calculate my moves and plan ahead in order to dodge possible pitfalls.

However, in briefly skimming past posts, I came to the realization that many of them had one underlying theme. Who or what it is, I shall not disclose, but I know that it has changed my outlook on life, love, and relationships. At this point, it will be a struggle because I have not fully rid that one factor from my life, and even if I succeed in ridding it physically, I will forever be connected to it. My psyche fractured by this thing that was once my puppetmaster.

"My name is Christina....and I made a mistake."

Wait a minute, where's my support group??

Tom's Diner

... seeing my nephew smile.

... watching weird television shows like Hoarders, Storage Wars, Billy the Exterminator, Hardcore Pawn, and My Strange Addiction.

... waking up to see dancing shadows of the blinds on the wall signifying a bright and sunny morning.

... how it smells outside before and after a heavy rain.

... the way my hair falls after I wrapped it just right.

... the lines in the carpet after vacuuming.

... laughing.

... hearing my parents laugh.

... seeing someone cry tears of joy (though I end up crying myself.)

... baking cookies in the wee hours of the morning and watching Netflix.

... shuffling through iTunes with the speakers on BLAST.

... carrying a book in my purse.

... opening my mailbox to find a new magazine.

... talking to Him out loud when I'm alone in my apartment.

... collapsing on the couch/bed after a long day at work.

... fruit, fruit snacks, and fruit popsicles.

... closing my eyes in the shower.

... finding the perfect pair of pearl earrings.

... the sound my phone makes when I get a new text message.

... writing this blog.


The little things.

Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'

I'm pretty sure the whole 'eye for an eye' principle doesn't apply to disclosing personal matter.

If you feel the need to confide in someone or disclose something from your past and/or present, you are more than welcome to. But don't expect it to be reciprocated. Why are you bartering in friendship?

You may have someone that you've been friends with for years and still not know everything about that person. It doesn't make them less of a friend. For me, it was better to learn and share things as a friendship grew. I liken it to watching a never-ending movie and slowly seeing the story unfold. You gradually come to understand the main character better and the people and events that shaped them. There was no need to put the climax or life-changing moments at the very beginning. The same goes for relationships. I have been on dates where a man felt it necessary to share everything from crazy ex-girlfriends to their battle with irritable bowel syndrome. I was like:


I'm a private person, and I pick and choose what I want to share with people. The postings in this blog, for instance, are only a small percentage of my life story. While I don't believe people have to adopt my view on how they should handle business pertaining to their personal life, I would caution against who you open up to. There are leeches disguised as friends or acquaintances who pry at your personal life for entertainment/gossip purposes...and yes, I had to find that out the hard way.

Total Eclipse of the Heart

"Compassion is an emotion of which we ought never to be ashamed. Graceful, particularly in youth, is the tear of sympathy, and the heart that melts at the tale of woe. We should not permit ease and indulgence to contract our affections, and wrap us up in a selfish enjoyment; but we should accustom ourselves to think of the distresses of human, life, of the solitary cottage; the dying parent, and the weeping orphan. Nor ought we ever to sport with pain and distress in any of our amusements, or treat even the meanest insect with wanton cruelty."

- Hugh Blair


To a dear friend who was denied compassion in the early years, and lacks it in the latter. I don't understand how you view things, but I understand why. May you continue to grow...


- Carter

American Gangster

"IDGAF!"

"I trust no one..."

"I'm heartless."

Gotta love these phrases. Most of the time, they are defense mechanisms and/or disguises for one's true thoughts and feelings. Typically, the "IDGAF" people ('I don't give a f***' to the lingo-challenged) say they don't care, but will spend hours upon hours going on a tirade about "how many f**** they give." The "I trust no one" type are similar to the IDGAF type, only they feel it necessary to reiterate how small their inner circle is, how "all they got in this cold, cold world" are themselves, or some other Tony Montana idiom. Oh, but the "I'm heartless type" are the worst. Through continuous bashing of the opposite sex, these types will glorify the single life and proudly don the title of 'player' or 'pimp', but in the same breath, complain about how they're sick of being lonely.

Myself? Yes, I can honestly say I DID fall into one of the aforementioned categories before realizing that I was lying to Christina. I tend to trust people because I try to see the good in everyone, I am oft too cautious to not hurt anyone's feelings for me to be labeled heartless, and sometimes I care too much to say IDGAF. I guess if I had to give it my type a name, it would be...human.

Excuse Me, Was You Saying Something?

Nothing deep.

Nothing personal.

Just another observation-turned-rant.

Our generation has a wealth of information at our fingertips....literally. Whereas we can search websites like Google, Bing, and Wikipedia to find millions of answers to a question, generations before us had to make trips to the library. That, or they were too busy making history and seeking the answers to go in the library books.

So why are we so lazy?

It blows my mind that some people (I love the word 'some' because I try to avoid generalizing) want information handed to them on a platter. I reached this realization after two incidents. The first incident occurred last week when I informed my followers of a new blog posting. In response, I received a tweet from someone saying that I shouldn't write such tweets without giving the blog link. Where was the link? Well, you have to go to this website which will lead you to another page where you enter a secret password, clap your hands, stomp your feet, and...

...actually, it was posted under my profile picture.

The second incident took place when the "planking" trend swept Twitter. 50% of my timeline consisted of pictures of people of planking and the other 50% people asking "Uh, what's planking?"

Funny, because I searched 'planking' as soon as it appeared on my timeline and got 18 million+ results. And I won't even bother addressing the 'Who is Casey Anthony?' questions.

There is the Internet, television, books, magazines, newspapers etc. at our disposal so we shouldn't always have to turn to others for an answer.

Just look, for goodness sakes, LOOK!

Lovely Day

HUGGGGHHHHH what time is it? i bet i overslept. how'd my pillow end up on the floor? great, my scarf came off AGAIN, what's the point of wrapping my hair? do i work today? what time? whatever, i'm waiting til the last minute to get dressed. call dad. oops, i forgot to thank Him for another day. thank you Lord for blessing me to see another day. please bless my family and friends and let all things go according to thy will. amen. okay, what business do i need to take care of? i already called that one company. i hope there are more job postings today. ugh, i don't even want to look in the mirror today. i need to research possible funding options to complete my last year in graduate school because if i'm not able to finish....alright, well i won't think about that. where's my phone? check missed calls (why'd they call me at that time?) check texts....check email....check facebook (wack)...check twitter (#wack). i wonder if i could switch days with her so I can go home to help take care of my sister. why does this keep happening to her? probably not, too last minute. well i'll just go home friday as soon as i leave work, and i should make it back to ann arbor in time for work monday. i should plan to do something this week. who should i call to hang- is that an ant? where are my glasses? nope, that's a piece of lint. i need motivation today. i should clean my house. and it's supposed to be hot. my hair appointment is when? it feels like it might be a good day. i still feel like something is missing but i don't know what it is. i'll blog about it!....but how do you blog about a phantom feeling or thing?


What goes through my mind in 30 seconds after opening my eyes in the morning.

Policy of Truth

There are days where I could wish I could relive my childhood and cherish the little things that I took advantage of. Time. Freedom. Innocence. Though I am blessed to have had such a wonderful childhood, I enjoy the advantages of being an adult as well as the things that go beyond the benefits: knowledge, femininity, maturity, and increased awareness of the world of around me.

I had a few friends over the other day, and one (shoutout to B1) mentioned how blind she was to the racial nuances of things from our childhood, a comment I eagerly agreed with. My family used to own a VHS tape titled "50 Greatest Looney Tunes Cartoons.' It was a collection featuring Looney Tunes characters like Porky Pig, Daffy Duck, Yosemite Sam, and, the fan favorite, Bugs Bunny. Below was my favorite cartoon from the tape:



The dialect, the oversized lips, the buffoon-like mannerisms of the character, the crap shooting- those were all overlooked through the eyes of a child. Where we see racial stereotyping, I saw a boy being tricked by the clever Bugs Bunny. Plus, it was Looney Tunes! Looney Tunes would never intentionally incorporate racial stereotyping into their cartoons!

*crickets*

Unfortunately, maturity did not equate to being completely 'ignorance-free' and there were things that slipped through the cracks. In high school, my best friend at the time introduced me to T.O.K.'s "Chi-Chi Man" song. For someone who didn't care much for reggaeton, I loved and embraced the song. I even attempted to sing along in a faux-Jamaican accent...that was until my friend interpreted the lyrics:

"From dem a par inna chi chi man car. Blaze di fire mek we bun dem!!!!"

Loosely translated: Set all homosexual men on fire.

Oh.....okay.

My friend could not understand my astonishment nor my disgust. She explained how homosexuality was frowned upon (and that's putting it nicely) in Jamaica, and that it was normal, AND acceptable, for songs to contain lyrics encouraging people to murder gay individuals. Was I surprised? Yes. But at the time, I didn't know Jamaica held the title of being 'The Most Homophobic Place on Earth.' Keyword: EARTH.

As I continue to learn outside of classroom, I am forced to be even more conscious of my surroundings and history. At times, I wish I remained in the dark because it's difficult to grasp the former and present happenings in our society. It was crushing to read about the Baby Doe Law enactment given my nephew's disabilities or how, contrary to what is usually highlighted in the news, female circumcision is not only practiced in Africa, but in countries like Saudi Arabia, Australia, and even Great Britain.

The cartoon, the song, the news- all were harsh realities but needed experiences and information. I never want to be in the dark. As Benjamin Franklin once quoted "Being ignorant is not so much a shame, as being unwilling to learn."

Wait, can I quote Ben Franklin? He owned and sold slaves. But he was an abolitionist too...right? Ugh, this life...

Lobster and Shrimp, and a Glass of Moscato...

It is definitely no surprise that I. LOVE. FOOD. It was that way in the beginning, and it's still that way now. I can count on one hand the things I won't eat, and ironically they all start with B's: beets, black licorice, bugs. "Bugs?!?" you say? Well obviously you don't watch the Travel Channel or National Geographic. In any case, I'd definitely fail as a food critic because I'd give 90% of the dishes 'two-thumbs' up, even if they weren't that spectacular. Seeing that at the moment I am a) hungry and b) thinking about food, I've decided to do another "Top Ten" post and list my top 10 foods!:

10. Chicken- STOP! Before you even began to formulate a stereotypical joke in your mind, realize that chicken is favorite food for different countries across the globe. In places like South Africa and China, even chicken feet are popular ingredients in soups, sandwiches, and stir-fry. (*cough* very well then.) Anyway, chicken is pretty good, especially if you have the right person making it. Add that to the fact that there are tons of chicken recipes out there, it's a difficult meat to get tired of. Well, maybe....



9. Tacos- This Mexican favorite dish has always been a must in my "diet" ever since we took family trips to Mexican Village in Detroit. Soft or crispy shells, fresh lettuce, cheese, sour cream, and either meat or fish, tacos are a food that will always be my favorite Mexican dish. And yes, in times of desperation, I settle for imitation. Taco Bell will do the job, and I can put away five tacos without blinking twice.



8. Pasta- Spaghetti, fettuccine alfredo, chicken linguine, lasagna- Bravo! Delizioso! I'm a big sauce person, so I tend to gravitate towards dishes heavy in sauce such as pasta bowls. Recently, I experimented with an Olive Garden recipe for my family and they loved it! If you like to cook, I recommend that you try it too. ;-)



7. Pizza- Sometimes extra cheap and other times too freakin' expensive, pizza is something that I tend to have a love/hate relationship with. There are times where I'm sick of it and the sight of a pizza box nauseates me, and other times where I'm willing to spend TOO much money on the pie. I fault myself because I am NOT the "pepperoni only" or "cheese only" kind of girl. I need everything on it, and the more toppings the better (and the more expensive.) Thus far, my favorite pizza of all-time is the deep-dish seafood pizza at Pizza Papalis which costs $24 for just a small pie. Loaded with chunks of crabs and shrimp, I guarantee you'll be pushing your plate away after 1.5 slices.



6. Hot Dogs- Hot dogs are the greatest and cheapest snack food ever created. Please save the lecture on what's really in them, because in all honesty I don't care. The god of hot dogs is of course the Chicago hot dog- a beef hot dog on a poppy seed bun, with mustard, onions, relish, hot peppers, a pickle spear, tomatoes, and a sprinkle of salt and pepper. Mmm... A close runner-up would be the hot dogs served at the baseball park. They may costs a $150, but the warm, toasty bun makes it all worth it!



5. Vegetables/Fruits- My parents told me that I've liked fruits and veggies since I was a little girl, a thing that people told them was a blessing. As I got older, I grew to love them even more, sometimes making whole meals of just vegetables and no meat. Given my eating habits, it's a good thing that I try to incorporate the two groups into my diet, although it can be a hassle with my slight food allergy to fresh produce. It's just good to eat something without having to check nutritional information or worry (too much) about portion size.



4. Sushi- Remember when you first learned about sushi? Majority of people (myself included) swore they would never touch it since it was raw fish. Who wants to eat raw fish?! Somewhere along the way, you might have had a family member or friend patiently explain that not ALL sushi is raw, and encourage you to try the "beginner" roll- the California. My first time having sushi was trying the deep-fried version of the California roll with eel sauce, and I thought it was little rolls of ecstasy. From then on, I worked my way up, and the next thing you know, I was eating rolls with eel or raw fish! My biggest accomplishment with sushi however? Teaching my mom, sister, and nephew to become certified sushi lovers.



3. Korean- My favorite restaurant in Ann Arbor is this tiny restaurant on South University by the name of Kang's. Kang's specializes in authentic Korean cuisine and it is amazing. How I even stumbled across Korean food is quite embarrassing. Back in '05 during Bridge (#s/o), we had something called 'Beef Bulgogi' in the cafeteria. As unappetizing as it looked, it was pretty tasty! But I wanted to try the real thing. One day on a scavenge for food, I decided to give Kang's a try since I always passed it on my way to work. Again, AMAZING. Just the right seasoning and spice, and a portion size that leaves you too full to ask for more. My favorite plate would be the Beef Bulgogi (semi-sweet beef stir fry) or Chap Chae Bob which has delicious vermicelli noodles. And let's not forget about the sides of perfectly spiced kimchi, fresh soybeans, and miso soup. Thank goodness for the Korean spot that opened next door to me. Nowhere NEAR the same level as Kang's, but enough to satisfy my random cravings for the food.



2. Barbeque- Lemme tell you something about barbeque- it is one of THEE most brilliant cooking techniques ever invented. And smothering barbequed food in a sauce made with with spices, tomatoes, and/or molasses, makes me wanna....



Point is, no matter what you throw on the grill- ribs, burgers, chicken, sausage, corn, etc- it magically becomes 10 times better. I am now counting down the days to Labor Day- the last barbeque of the year. *moment of silence*



And my number one food is....*drum roll*

1. Seafood- Just thinking of baked fish with fresh squeezes of lemon, golden-fried jumbo shrimp, and crab legs and lobsters with hot drawn butter, is enough to send me into a tizzy. If I had a choice, I'd eat seafood everyday without getting seasick (1 point for the corny pun? No? Okay.) The main reason why I wont' ever tire of seafood is because it's a special treat. As much as I adore lobster, I'm not rushing to a restaurant to drop $30 on ONE lobster tail. Nevertheless, it has and will always be my number one food point. blank. period.

Changes

Took a trip to V-A this weekend and had a wonderful time with my bestie! It was great experiencing the city as an adult and exploring the DC nightlife. I can't wait to go back!

On the ride home from VA, we (my sandz and a soror) decided to stop at a Prime Outlet mall. They wanted to shop and I just wanted to observe as I am on strict shopping probation. Unfortunately, no more than 3 minutes out of the car, I spotted a sign that read 'Book Warehouse'(probation ended.) When I walked in, I found a store covered in signs reading "50% ALL FINAL SALES!!!!" After picking up a Supremes autobiography marked down to $3.99, I swiftly walked over to the Seth Green-lookalike hunkered behind the counter.

Me: "Excuse me. This book says it's $4. Is this the price after the discount?"

Clerk: "No, it's actually 50% off that price."

Me: "Sheesh, you guys are tryna make me carry a load of books back to Michigan!"

In response, he simply shrugged and said "Well my store is closing, so feel free to buy as much as you'd like. I need to get rid of it all anyway."

I spent nearly 30 minutes walking around the small shop, running my fingers along rows of best sellers, and standing on tip-toes to grab fiction novels on shelves out of reach. At one point, I just stopped and read the titles of the books on each shelf one by one. If I had fallen into a trance, it was quickly interrupted by a loud-mouth redhead who walked in with her boyfriend. I caught the end of her rant to her significant other who looked as if he wanted to slap a muzzle on his yapping girlfriend.

"....like hundreds of them are closing. You see 'for sale' signs, like, everywhere. And anyway, who cares. Just hurry up and grab something. I don't know why people publish books anymore anyway. Like, who has time to read?" Irritated and shocked with my fleeting thoughts about using a book as a bludgeoning weapon, I bought five books and rushed out the door. Reality hit during the long ride home. "She was right."

Bookstores around the country are closing at significantly high rates. After declaring bankruptcy, Borders has decided to close more than 30% of its stores nationwide. Barnes & Nobles, which once boasted stock worth $45 per share, fell to just $15 in 2010, and with the introduction of e-readers such as the Kindle, Amazon has noticed a dramatic increase in the sale of e-books. Brett Arends of The Wall Street Journal correctly labeled the happenings as "The Bookstore Massacre-" the closure of bookstores around the country and the slow extinction of the book.



I love technology, and a part of me longs to be a gadget geek. However, there's the other part that feels as if the world is moving too fast. I was the kid that read the newspaper every morning. I was the kid that preferred bookstores over toy stores. To picture them both extinct within the next decade seems like a distant nightmare. If this is how I feel, I can only imagine how my parents feel, or my grandparents would have felt. A line that resonates and perfectly illustrates my thoughts at this moment was quoted by the beloved Brooks Hatlen character in The Shawshank Redemption: "The world went and got itself in a big damn hurry."

You damn right Brooksy.

Christian Dior Denim Flow

It's always funny to hear what people classify as "hoodrat-ish" or ghetto. I'll admit that iGiggle at statements that begin with "You know you a hoodrat/ghetto if..." Typically, these observations include some type of brand:

"You know you a hoodrat if you drink Faygo pop and eat Hot Cheetos."

"You know you ghetto if you carry a fake Gucci or Louis Vuitton bag bought from the beauty supply sto’."

I sat back and thought about the brands themselves and what (if any) are their sentiments on being considered correlated with the underprivileged black community. There are companies that specifically market to that demographic, but I would venture a guess and say that Frito-Lay did not sit in a boardroom brainstorming ways to appeal to the 'American hoodrat' or what cities they should host a 'Hot Cheetos Fest.' Going from there, I thought about the upscale luxury brands that have fallen victim to generalization. Those melded into the image of a 'ghetto-fabulous lifestyle.’ These brands- which include LVMH (Louis Vuitton-Moet Hennessy), Gucci, BMW, Christian Dior, and Ralph Lauren- are all foreign in origin (with the exception of Ralph Lauren) and powerhouses of luxury, class, wealth, and elegance in the world of fashion. All decades old and some approaching their centennial, the possession of these brands are now what defines the 'American Dream.' The house with the 2.5 kids, dog, and perfect white picket fence went out with the 50s (No, but seriously. It did.) With songs like "Beamer, Benz, or Bentley," "#1 Stunna," and "Super High," it's no surprise that materialism is suffused into black hip-hop culture, some incorporating the brand names into their stage personas (Gucci Mane, the Louis Vuitton Don, Cartier Kitten, etc.) Take a look at this Yahoo! question:



Though people are quick to analyze the infatuation blacks have with luxury goods and whether or not we impact the integrity of a brand, other ethnic groups have been accused of the same “wrongdoing.” Polo Ralph Lauren, for instance, has come under fire for Mexican drug dealers sporting their signature polo shirts, a phenomenon which sparked a trend of wearing Polo knock-offs amongst the Mexican children and young adults. In China, artists such as Chen Wenjing depict Chinese obsession with brands and materials through artwork such as the 'God of Materialism,' a piece that shows a mass of starry-eyed piglets staring at the god adorned in jewels and other material things:





Being a lover of all things fashion and high-end, I questioned whether we were allowing the glorification of the brands in the media and the, uh, tackiness of others to tarnish the image of our beloved luxury brands. Were they being cheapened and denigrated to the level of something that was "hood" as opposed to something classic?







I decided to research the background of each company and found some interesting facts. Louis Vuitton-Moet Hennessey continues to dominate as the top luxury good and is worth over $20 billion. With over 60 brands and 2,500 stores worldwide, the LVMH conglomerate was founded in 1987 after Moet Hennessy merged with Louis Vuitton. Included in the conglomerate are its subsidiaries such as Fendi, Christian Dior, Bvlgari, and Dom Perignon, as well as an assortment of fashion, wine, perfume, and cosmetic-based companies.

In the early 19th century, Louis Vuitton’s cemented itself in fashion history by introducing the Louis Vuitton flat trunk to the awe of vacationers and explorers alike. LV went on to develop an amazing history…though not so squeaky-clean. Evidence has surfaced linking the retailer to the Vichy regime of World War II, a regime responsible for the deportation of more than 75,000 Jews to German concentration camps. Much of the relationship between the regime and the Vuittons stemmed from business deals with the Germans as well as active support for a puppet government led by Marshal Philippe Pétain.

Ok, so it’s been years since WWII, and you might say, “Let the past be the past,” but there are recent incidences involving other companies. In late 2010, perfumer Jean-Paul Guerlain (another subsidiary of LVMH) received much backlash from the French black community after saying the following statement in an interview on French television:

“For once, I worked like a nigger. I don’t know if niggers really worked that much.”

This year, the fashion house of Gucci faces a discrimination lawsuit with allegations of racial remarks made towards pop artist, Rihanna. Moreover, claims against BMV have surfaced regarding the issuance of NUDs or “non-urban dictates” which prevents advertisement in predominantly black communities. Other companies that have issued NUDs before? Lexus, Ethan Allen, and Starbucks.

But don’t be quick to point the finger yet. In 2005, Gucci partnered with UNICEF and pledged over $9 million to a campaign that would support UNICEF’s “Schools for Africa” initiative. The house of Christian Dior even took a stance against racism in the firing of top fashion designer, John Galliano, after an anti-Semitic rant caught on camera. Galliano made comments such as “I love Hitler” and “"Your mothers, your forefathers, would all be ... gassed and ... dead."

So what’s my conclusion? In all honesty- I don’t know. At this point, it’s difficult to say whether the people affect the integrity of the brand, or if the brand affects the integrity of the people. Or neither. I just need to dig deeper and research further into the history and marketing strategies of the luxury brands before I can make a fair assessment.

Fashion+ History+Research= Happy Christina.

Playa, Why You Hatin'?

There's no such thing as having an opinion these days, so if you happen to have you one, kindly bag it up in a empty plastic bag from Krogers, and toss it in the nearest dumpster. Here's why:

A few weeks ago, I went to the casino with some friends. One of them won $100, and we all congratulated her. After separating from the group, I made the comment:

Man, ------ is so lucky! She won $100 dollars and I only won $15. I'm a loser. Ha!"

The comment was meant to be funny and I said it in joking manner. However, as soon as I said it, one of my guy friends jumped in and said:

"Why you hatin'?"

At first I laughed it off because I didn't think he was serious. But he proceeded to go off on me in front of our friends and random senior citizens on slot machines:

"Hatin' is hatin' no matter how you look at it. Last week, ---------- just said she didn't like this one girl's car because it was a nice car, and she was hatin' too. See how you females be?"

Though I could take one of two approaches in writing this blog based on the previous comment, I'll just go with one- why is everyone on the damn defense these days? As if being able to state a general dislike of someone or something, have a friendly debate, or even JOKE about disliking something is set to cause anger. For instance, you can't say that you don't think another woman/man is attractive without someone accusing you of having a low-esteem. Don't dare make a comment on whether or not you like your friend's new significant other and you're single-- you don't want to be labeled the "bitter friend." And as for those topics (i.e. abortion, gay marriage, religion, politics, etc.)- just....don't talk about it. You don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. In these days anyway, many of us have restructured our beliefs and opinions to make them acceptable to society and stay "PC." Instead of having discussions where both parties try to make the other understand their point of views, we have heated arguments in which we try to change the others' point of view. What is the purpose in that? Do we really want to have the same opinion on everything?



"Hating" has become one of the most abused words of the 21st century. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure a child's first words will be either "hater" or "swag." In any case, you cannot state an opinion on anything, I repeat, ANYTHING without hearing the phrase "Why you hatin'?" Thank God for blessing me with friends who are mature and intelligent enough to articulate their thoughts and beliefs in way that does not breed anger, but discussion. And when and if I'm not able to express myself to friends, there's always my dear old blog. Thinking about making it private though. I know I have someone out there hatin' on what I write.

Oops.

If I Go Crazy, Then Will You Still.....

What is in the nature of women that makes us so forgiving towards men?

How easily we allow ourselves to be open to a man that has taken advantage of our kindness and vulnerability when in reality, we received nothing in return. In the back of our minds, we know that he isn't good for us, and have accepted that fact. Nevertheless, it's the same pattern. We wake up with the resolution to completely rid him from our lives, and try to do so through deleted phone numbers and tossing shared memorabilia. Yet, no matter how hard you try to get rid of him, no matter how many times you tell yourself that "I can do better," he stays permanently tattooed on your mind and heart. What's worse is though you've endured sleepless nights and tear-filled mornings writhing in pain from what he's said or done, you'll be right there with open arms to welcome him back as soon as he says "Baby, I'm sorry. I want you. I need you."

Would he do the same if it was the other way around?

We shouldn't be so quick to pass judgments as to why one friend keeps messing with "that one dude," or spend time trying to comprehend why the other friend keeps "running back to him." I have yet to find a woman who hasn't met her Kryptonite, and those who have are sometimes scared to admit it because they don't want to appear naive or too forgiving. Fear not woman, because I can almost guarantee you are not alone.

Just keep waiting on Superman.

Sweet Dreams of Passion Through The Night....

Recognized: Entry #1

Shows like TV One's Unsung tend to fly under the radar...as do the people in the show (oh, the irony.) Unsung features artists and musicians who provided a soundtrack to our childhood and/or our parents' young adult years, and are either unrecognized or did not receive the full recognition they deserved. As a tribute to these forgotten artists- and to supplement an already fabulous show- I'll be creating my own version of Unsung blogs, except with a twist- Recognized. These blogs will include actors and actresses from television shows or movies, who cemented themselves in black popular culture. I'll recall my introduction to the talent at hand, and discuss how they've impacted my life and our culture. Let's first start with a music artist:

Melanie Janene Thornton (May 13th 1967- November 24th, 2001) of La Bouche





Bio: Born in Charleston, South Carolina, Melanie Janene Thornton wanted to pursue a singing career at young age, and was heavily influenced by recording female recording artists such as Roberta Flack and Aretha Franklin. In February 1992, Melanie traveled to live in Germany with her sister and brother-in-law, arriving with just $15 dollars in her wallet. After an unsuccessful stint on the nightclub circuit and many failed demos, Thornton caught the eye of music producer Frank Farian, a producer who also worked with artists Milli Vanilli and Boney M. Pairing her with rapper Lane McCray, Farian placed Thornton as the front man of the newly formed Eurodance group "La Bouche," French for "The Mouth." The group's claim to fame were the songs "Sweet Dreams" and "Be My Lover," and soon La Bouche became one of the most successful Eurodance groups of the nineties. Their awards included the German Grammy, the Golden Europa for 'Best Duo or Group,' and the Echo for 'Best Dance Song of the Year."



Death: By 2000, Thornton set out to pursue a solo career, and on November 24th, 2001, Thornton boarded a plane to promote her solo album, Ready to Fly. Tragically, the plane crashed near Bassersdrof, Switzerland killing Thornton (age 34), and all 24 passengers on board.

Influence: La Bouche was another artist I was introduced to by Cathy, and I remember her repeatedly blasting the La Bouche album, Greatest Hits. The music was somewhat foreign to me as it was one of my earliest memories of dance/techno music, but I LOVED Thornton's voice. Imagine my delight when I looked at the cassette tape holder, and found that Thornton was this gorgeous black woman! I don't hear 'Sweets Dreams" or 'Be My Lover" on the radio anymore, but sometimes (depending on the place), I'll hear it at a party or in a bar. And every time, I unconsciously sing the lyrics, word for word, as if I'm that little girl singing "wanna be my lover" around the dining room on Coyle.

As popular as La Bouche was, the group continues to remain 'unsung' in black popular culture, mainly because of the type of music they performed. Although it wasn't soul, hip-hop, or R&B, it was still music performed by two black talented artists that were able to break into an industry dominated by white artists, become successful, AND do it better than it had been done before.

La Bouche: RECOGNIZED.

Do Right Woman, Do Right Man

When browsing through my Twitter timeline or my Facebook news feed, I run across the same question:

"Where are all the good men/women at???"

I cringe every time I see it. Not so much because of the question itself, but because of the person posing the question. You may say I'm being judgmental, but when people use social networks to broadcast their every thought and action and post explicit pictures of themselves, it's not passing judgment on anyone, but questioning how people think they can and deserve to find a "good man" or "good woman" when they have this oversexualized image.

Men- So you tweet about all the women you slept with, how much money you're getting, and in the wee hours of the morning, groaning about how "some ---- would be good right about na." That's cool. Do you. However, don't inbox me a proposal for a date when you spend most of your time calling women bitches and hoes, talk about getting high, or uploading twitpics of some "phat a**" you seen at the store. Don't say you're looking for a "natural woman" when you scout Facebook and Twitter for women to add as "friends" when a good portion of them are sporting false eyelashes, weave, and tons of makeup in their profile pic.

"Man, I don't know why I keep getting tagged in these Jordan/Nike heels pictures!"

-___________________________________________________-

If you want to present yourself to others as a heartless, thugged out, hoe magnet, you can do whatever you want. But don't believe that any self-respecting woman is going to be attracted to that, let alone go on a date with you. Eff outta here.


Women- "Gurl, it's so hard to find a good man out here. I keep attracting the same ol' niggas!"

That is correct. Especially when you have back shot pictures with your a** cheeks on the bathroom counter.

Like, for real. It's getting old. If I was a man, I would NOT have good intentions in befriending you either. And you may be a loyal woman. You may know how to cook and clean and be "God-fearing", but WHO CARES when you look like a whore in all of your photos. And you'll be the FIRST to complain about all of the random inbox messages from "thirsty dudes." Yesterday, I watched a woman tweet about how (and this is a censored recount) much she loved performing oral sex and recalled various memories of threesomes and other sexual adventures. THEN turned around and got mad because men started DM'ing her about her skills.

"I'm a lady. Don't disrespect me!"

Bish please.

Clearly social networks will forever be a part of our culture, both in America and internationally. If you plan on using them to find The One, pay attention to how you present yourself, and don't complain that no good men or women exists. You just may be that man or woman that people are trying to avoid.

Gumpshun

I'm not used to this whole "having a lot of time on my hands" thing. Granted, I will regret this statement come the beginning of Fall semester, but to go from four classes and three jobs, to no classes and one part-time job is driving me nuts. And the sad thing is, having a car would not help with my boredom. Where would I go? Who would I see?

For the most part, I feel that I've tapped into everything Ann Arbor, Detroit, metro Detroit...sheesh, MICHIGAN has to offer. That's why I crack up at the "Visit Michigan" commercials. Portraying the state as this fun-fun getaway with casinos, beaches, kayaking, and birds that perch on your shoulder while you walk through the forest--



Ignore my cynicism. It really is a great campaign. Honestly. Just another rant from someone who's a Michigan native, and is unable to see Michigan through the eyes of a tourist.

ANYWAY, I love to set goals, and I'm even more ecstatic when I achieve them. So far, I'm on the right path, but I feel I've failed myself in one area thus far. I once had aspirations to be an entrepreneur. It was something that stemmed from reading stories on Berry Gordy, Madame C.J. Walker, and Bill Gates. It essentially was one of the driving factors that made me want to be a business major- well, that and money- and an outlet I wanted to use to provide financial support to my family. I wish I had access to my old library records in Dearborn, Southfield, even Ann Arbor. I checked out countless books on entrepreneurship, "100 Best Businesses to Start"-like books, and even Motley Fool's books on investing (should I earn massive amounts of money from the my business..... -______-)

Yet, I could never find The One. No, not a man (*rolls eyes*) but the right idea. When I read books on businesses to start, they gave the usual suggestions:

- Clothing Store
- Landscape Company
- Professional Organizer/Assistant
- eBay Seller
- Avon Rep (o_o)
- House Sitter (o_O)
- Pet Sitter (O__O)

And the kicker is, people continued to publish books with these same jobs EACH YEAR. They'd appear in the Best Businesses for 2001 edition, the 2003 edition, 2007 edition, so on, and so on. As if our economy is stagnant, and world doesn't evolve. I believe I gave up on those books by the 2005 edition. What were my chances of becoming a millionaire as a PET. SITTER.



So here it is 2011. I'm still young, healthy, and ambitious, but the disappointment comes in because I'm not where I want to be in regards to owning and operating a company. At 12, the goal was to have a company by 13. At 13, it changed to 16, and by 16, it changed to 21. However, I still have yet to find The One and I refuse to put money and time into a business simply because a book or magazine says it's "what's hot for 2011." Maybe in this free time I'll find what it is I'm looking for. If not, then so be it. I need to practice patience.

Feel Good Inc.

I need to go on a diet!

Correction.

I need to develop healthier eating habits and incorporate time for exercise in my weekly schedule.

Problem is I have no idea where to start (once again). I mean, I've bought "healthier" foods. At one point, I was exercising for 30 minutes every other day. Then I decided that I couldn't eat healthy AND work out, and tried to do one or the other. #FAILofthemillenium

I don't why I'm having this epiphany at 10 something at night. Maybe it's because when I took off my clothes tonight, I didn't like what was in the mirror. A lot of people assume I'm joking when I say "OMG, I need to lose weight!" and some friends get annoyed or angered that I'm complaining about my size. However, it's not a matter of vanity or being melodramatic. If you look in the mirror, you dislike what you see, and it's something that you have control over, you should be able to change it....just don't...take it to the extreme.



And anyway, I realized that I'm getting older. I had a memorial service for my metabolism last year, and bid farewell to the size 5 pants yesterday as I shoved them in a donation bag. On a serious note, my family members have not received a clean bill of health from their doctors, and some of them didn't even have a chance to make it to the doctor's office (R.I.P. to cousin D.C. 05/18/2011). 24 is not the "end all, be all" but if I plan on living a healthy lifestyle, I need to start NOW.


.....Imma still save room for my candy tho. Just a little room.

Say It Loud....

This blog isn't unique. It's a topic that has been discussed many times before. But given the frequency of the encounters, I needed to vent.

There are several things that I dare people to speak on and expect not to feel my wrath. One is family. My womanhood. Another is my race.

I love--and I do mean LOVE--everything about being black. My features, the way I can style my hair, my skin color-- I believe that black people are some of the most beautiful beings on this earth. Imagine my disdain when I encounter people who question my allegiance to our race because I don't like or support something related to black people. It'll be for THEE MOST insignificant things, yet it'll cause me to have a mental meltdown. Let's look at several recent conversations:

Convo #1:

Friend #1: "Did you read the new book from Triple Crown?
Me: "Nah, I don't read too many of those books these days."
Friend #1: "I mean, why not? It's kinda messed up that you're so quick to read books by white authors, but you give the black authors no play."
Me: "But I never said..."


Convo #2

Friend #2: "I think I'm going to see 'Jumping the Broom' tonight."
Me: "Oh ok. I probably won't go cuz the previews didn't catch my interest."
Friend #2: "Well, it has an all-black cast, so you can't go wrong with that."
Me: "Actually, you can. You can wrong with an all-black cast just like you can wrong with an all-white cast."
Friend #2: "Well, at least I'M going to support our black people."

Convo #3

Me: "Don't you want to turn the t.v. off before you leave?"
Friend #3: "No. I'm leaving it on BET."
Me: "Why? You're wasting electricity."
Friend #3: "NO, I'm supporting BET by increasing their viewership. What would you know about that?"

#pauseforthecause

Since when did reading hood novels, watching movies with predominantly black casts, and @#$%@$^&* BET define our "blackness?" I find that there are too many black people out there trying to judge others' "blackness" without looking at their contributions-- or lack there of--to our race. And it's the funny how one the aforementioned friends peddles street pharmaceuticals to blacks in poverty-stricken neighborhoods in Detroit. And I'm the bad guy?

It just tickles me that we have the "Black Police" on patrol, seeking to find the person who's not "representin'." I had a finger aimed my way plenty of times before from the clothes that I wear to the perm in my hair. And how many of my educated black friends faced ridicule for sounding "too white?"



But ask them what they know about black history. Ask them how they are helping to stop perpetuating the cycles of crime, illiteracy, unemployment, and poverty within the Black community. It takes more than natural hair, tattoos, and collection of black films and hood novels to help to uplift our race. I often question what more can I do? How can I give back to my community? I by no means feel that my efforts outshine others nor do I want to present myself as someone who knows what others must do to "represent." It's just is frustrating to have to already prove my worth to society as both a woman and a black woman...but to have to prove myself to my own race?

BOYYYY STOP.

Well If You Don't Know, Now You Know...Ninja

10 Facts that people don't know about me- at least not everyone. These won't be the typical "I never broke a bone" or "My first kiss was..." kind of facts, but tidbits that are actually interesting and sometimes embarrassing. Get ready for the countdown!

10. I attempted to write a book around the age of 12, and even got to chapter 10. It was along the lines of a Goosebumps novel since I was heavily obsessed with R.L. Stine. Unfortunately, the computer that I started the book on was given away (!!!) and I decided not to begin it again. Short stories from then on.

9. I've had a plethora of weird celebrity crushes starting at the age of 9. This included Sisqo, Al Pacino, Jason Kidd, Jackie Wilson, Robert DeNiro, Nas, John Stamos, Chris Webber, Nelly, Blair Underwood, Haywood Nelson of What's Happening!, Haini Wolfgramm of the music group The Jets, etc. And the BIGGEST crush of them all? Sylvester Stallone. As you can see, there is no rhythm nor rhyme to this selection. Let the judgment commence.



8. The first rap song that I memorized is "Tha Block is Hot." I even printed the lyrics to make sure I knew every word and ab-lib.

7. I have seen a ghost before. Before you jump to call me cray cray, my sister and I both saw the ghost at the same time. And the house that we saw it in was said to have other "encounters" before. We never spent the night there again.

6. Because I used to help my mom in the kitchen a lot, I always thought I could cook. So when everyone was sleep in the house, I would get up in the middle of the night and grab my mom's Betty Crocker Cookbook.



Needless to say, I failed miserably. I pulled Millie into helping me one time, and we had to hide a pot we burnt in trying to make creme brulee. I did have one success! French onion stew. Couldn't go wrong with cutting up onions and a few bullion cubes.

5. I was a late bloomer whereas both my sisters developed at early ages. Both of them had hit C-cups before entering middle school, and I on the other hand remained flat as a wall. I would cry about it too. Not like small little "wah wah wah, I want boobies" cries, but "OH WOE IS ME! THE WORLD SHALL END-ETH IF THY BREASTS DO NOT GROW-ETH!!!" cries. Then the next thing you know, BAM! by eighth grade year. Then high school. Then college. Smooth sailing from there on out.



4. My first job was at a library where I had a number of obsessed patrons. One patron, a middle age white man, asked to take a picture of me sitting behind my desk at work. I wanted to say no but I agreed. Security caught the man taking the picture, asked him to show that he deleted it on his camera, and escorted him out the building. The next week, he brought in the picture he took- printed and in a frame. I was terrified. Scared to tell my parents, I hid the picture for a long time in our hall closet. After some months, I took the picture out, tore it into pieces, and smashed the frame. I left the library to go to Bridge, but even in the summer months I spent at home struggling to look for jobs, I never applied to work at the library again.

3. My first "boyfriend" was at the age of 13. His name was Chris, and my first encounter with him was watching him and my cousin ride by house (on bikes of course) with Chris cussing my cousin out. Mind you, Chris was only about 5'2, 5'3 at the time, and my cousin was some inches taller than him. On top of that, my cousin was like a neighborhood bully. So the fact that this boy was aggressive and denigrating someone older and physically larger than him, intrigued me. We met that day, we became a "couple" that day. My dad didn't like him, and I'm being nice using the phrase "didn't like." He eventually told me that Chris' name had been brought up in the barbershop as one of the many boys who'd been robbing people in the neighborhood, as well as did some breaking and entering. It all made sense, especially after Chris told me his "job in a junkyard" was a cover-up for him selling weed. I came to my senses and told him I didn't want to talk to him anymore. In response, he threatened to kill me and any other family member that tried to stop him. Good ol' Chris. Such a kidder!

2. Okay, this fact may disgust some readers. I've always had a high pain tolerance. I don't want to say that I'm a "fiend for pain" because that makes me sound like some kind of freak. 0_o I was just one of the kids who liked the feel of putting chip bag clips on their skin, on binder clips on their fingertips (I know. I know...) One of my worst habits, however, was to....umm...stick sewing needles under the skin on my fingers. On the palm side. I don't know why I used to do it, but it was more or less because I was bored and it didn't hurt me. So back in 6th grade, I decided to not only stick the needle under my skin, but use a threaded needle. By the end of second period, I threaded what looked like a small, stitched circle in the center of tip of my thumb. I freaked my classmates out, and of course, my teacher. Next thing you know, I get home from school, and my parents told me that my teacher contacted them during recess. HER story was that I cut my thumb open and sewed myself back together. (Really?) They asked was there any truth to her story, and I just told them about the needle incident myself. My loving father and mother, having already accepted the fact that their daughter was a weirdo, already knew about me playing with the sewing needles and quickly disregarded the whole thing. They also knew that although I wanted to be a doctor at that age, but wasn't dumb enough to cut myself open. Shoutout to Ms. Kallis for the memory.

1. At the age of 11, I first began tutoring at a tutor program at my church. At the time, adults were the only tutors, but I asked the program director if I could volunteer. I loved working with the elementary-aged students, and would bring in bags of candy from the penny candy store to reward them for their work. My favorite person to tutor was a special-ed student who was a couple of years older than me. I can't remember her name, but I remember her face, and the joy she had when I congratulated her on getting something right. Having remembered that feeling, and now having a nephew who's a special-ed student, I decided to apply to a tutoring program in Ann Arbor to work with special-ed students, and in addition, applied to the Big Brothers Big Sisters program. Fingers crossed that they accept my applications!