last night i put on my "favorite" heels (they're all my favorite), leggings, and a little grey number i picked up recently... drove downtown with high expectations.... embraced my cranberry vodka... and spent the night dancing to a live performance by maneja beto with my favorite women in austin and my sister... i couldn't imagine a more perfect night out

how would we understand love if we didn't have movies and television shows to package it for us? maybe we are just performing what has been dished to us our whole lives...

my latest experiment/hobby: photojournaling... check me out!

http://tkphotodiary.blogspot.com/

they say that God may not pull you out of it, but He will pull you through it...

yesterday i broke down in church because i realized that, after 9 months of studying and stressing, my exams had passed. and i hadn't barely passed; i had done really well. my professors were impressed with my written work and told me that i should "commend" myself for a "job well done." (for anyone who has not "experienced" grad school - there is nothing crazier than having your professors give such direct, positive feedback). they and all of my friends and family kept telling me to celebrate. yet found myself deeply ambivalent... partially happy, partially worried about what to do with all of my free time and wondering what to do next... but mostly numb... and on sunday, when Reverend Pringle sang "i won't complain," as he has since i was in grade school, i experienced a reaction that i hadn't anticipated. i was not happy that i had passed, but proud that i had made it through the journey - amazed that i had survived the very real and scary low points of the past months (especially march).

...and so very grateful.

what is the world coming to?

Please check this articles out:
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/30/nyregion/nyregionspecial2/30breathalyzerct.html?_r=1&oref=slogin

I find it interesting that the assumed solution to social problems is the development of new mechanisms through which to "police" individuals. The link above discusses the recent move by many schools to use breathalyzers to test whether or not their students have been drinking. Some test students before entering school dances; others check students who appear to have been drinking during the school day. I wonder how they think invoking fear of punishment solves the "problem" at hand.

This raises two issues. First, forms of punishment and control do nothing to eliminate the deeper issues that lead teenagers to drink in the first place. I remember first getting drunk when I was sixteen at a house party. My friend's mother frequently left her and her brother alone on Friday or Saturday nights. She saw the empty house as an opportunity to invite people over to use drugs and drink. We were too excited to act a fool and engage in these forbidden behaviors. Looking back, I have no idea how we even got the alcohol, aside from giving someone money and requests to get what we wanted. Even scarier is that I experienced a mild form of alcohol poisoning when I first got drunk (I still can't stand Captain Morgan's rum or pepsi). That night, I was so far gone that I couldn't think, walk (I fell down the stairs without realizing it), talk, or see clearly. I could've easily been raped, and I have no idea if the person who drove me home had been drinking.

I was lucky. Aside from waking up with a headache the next morning, I was alive and healthy. My early experimentation with liquor did not overlap an addictive personality or issues of depression that might have that led to habitual binging or alcoholism. Drinking did not become a way for me to self-medicate, and (for the most part) I quickly learned my limit when going out. Others have not been so fortunate.

Second, school attempts to regulate underage drinking through punishment reflects a disconnection of school administrators and parents from teenagers. Maybe they have forgotten how hard high school can be, when our bodies are changing, every test/fight/breakup seems like the end of the world, and we are children struggling to become adults. What is needed is more attention to the individual and their personal needs rather than dismissing teenagers as "problem students." They need to be listened to, heard, and validated. They need services and programs to cultivate their talents and interests. They need for adults to be open to talking about serious issues, proper education on drinking and drugs, and someone who can give them a safe ride home without fearing repercussions.

i put little pieces of paper all over my apartment telling me to move on
i talked to my friends about why the situation was wrong, and why ending things now was secretly a blessing in disguise
and they all agreed with me... but i didn't...

a woman i spoke with the other day pointed out that i seemed "disappointed" - using THE perfect word to illustrate how i feel... i am overwhelmed with disappointment

he said he didn't think that i would even go on a second date with him. that he was surprised i kept coming around. that he didn't think i would take a serious relationship with him seriously...
it makes me sad to think that he didn't know that i was completely blown away by him... days later i would and do continue to think through bits of our conversations on raising children and fighting inequality and Christianity
i admire that on our first date he put all of the deep and heavy parts of his life on the table
i think his band is amazing, and find it awesome that he finds so much potential in his students
and i could go on and on, but i'd only be torturing myself...

he told me that i had "a lot going on"; that he wanted something serious that would lead to kids in the near future, and that he wasn't ready to deal with me leaving for a year
and it made sense, sort of... part of me wonders if he was being completely honest, because i've always believed if you want things to work, if you really believe in something, you will take the risk... but, then again, I'VE always been the one to leave - for the summer, for the semester, for a year... and until this conversation i had never really thought about how the other person felt
so i don't blame him

this happened over two weeks ago - almost three weeks - and i'd only known him for five...
and the crazy thing is that meeting him made me realize that my friend abroad is not the one, which sacred me because it made me afraid that i'd regret not trying to push things... but i don't believe in fighting someone over something they clearly don't want

part of me feels that my frustration stems from anxieties over lacking a solid "base" and the desire to maintain a consistent connection with another person [side note: i am terrified of leaving the country for a year and returning to write my dissertation with no requirements for where i live. my grad school friends will be scattered across the country doing their work. my high school friends have established lives and families. my college friends live all over the country. worst of all, deKalb is no longer "home" beyond the comfort of my parents house... i feel as though i belong nowhere]

but another part of me says - no, you established a connection with someone that made you look at things differently; someone with whom, for once, you could be all of your quirky selves with; someone who acknowledged that their journey had been hard, and that they were still growing; someone who thinks outside the box, sees the good in every person, and has his own sense of style/taste
and it's not that i was in love, but that i was completely wide open with curiosity

i find myself fighting the thought that it is over. then i get mad for wasting time torturing myself. i hate waking up sad. i feel stupid for still thinking about this almost three weeks later. and i envy those who seem to have their personal lives together... i need to move on

i've got it figured out - for now...

i've been thinking about what it is that i "like," and i've identified at least four:
1. traveling & exploring new places, figuring out the intricacies of now so new ones...
2. food! mainly trying new restaurants, but also making new foods
3. art... especially painting and photography ... when i finish my exams, i'm going to buy a new camera and start exploring...
4. movies/music...

so maybe i'm not as lost as i thought i was - just in hiding... :)

i was on the verge of tears... and ready to quit...

i've done a lot in my 24 years, but i'd like to give myself permission to just stop - at least for a few moments.

i'm in the process of studying for these exams - 25 books from finishing my reading list of almost 150. academia is isolating. and unhealthy. i've realized recently that i don't really know myself outside of my work anymore. twice in the past month i was asked if i had any hobbies... i always thought of my research as my hobby... it is, after all, my craft. but the problem is that there is little difference between my research and my (future) career. i don't know what else i'd like to do with my time - social activism? can that be my hobby? (my friend said no). well i don't know what else to do with my time... i read, i work, and i go to class. that is my life right now. and after it is over, i will probably take a short break, watch some tv, maybe even go to the mall... and then go back to work, research, and class...

aside for the occasional night out, i don't know what to do with my free time...

have you ever met a man whose aura attracted you so forcefully that even looking at his profile picture seemed to physically suck you in? it just gives me chills...

dem presidential debates @ SC

so i watched the debates last night. at least a third of it was a waste of time... and painful. Clinton and Obama fighting like two twelve-year-olds... Edwards was on point, yet even the moderator treated him like an underdog. Obama skirted the issues... and (at least for me) it wasn't about him acknowledging his wrongdoings so that we might like him less, but so that he could stand up for himself by being honest and suggesting that he had nothing to hide... i still don't understand what the difference between the 3 "universal" healthcare plans are. i still don't like Clinton. and i still don't understand why Edwards' poignant critique of predatory lenders and plan to eliminate poverty has been overlooked. however, it was interesting to see Edwards and Clinton (hers was SO half-ass) play the race card by identifying issues that affected blacks in that sort of liberal, "i'm down and understand the issues" manner... people across the would be screaming if Obama started going off about racism being institutional in the same manner as Edwards... i'm going to give it one last shop next week... i hope to never see a debate like last night again

hello 2008?

it's a "new" year, yet i don't feel like i'm beginning anything... maybe it's because i'm in the middle of a journey - studying for exams, brushing up on my portuguese, and leaving austin... and while the finish line (of this stage) is quickly approaching, i feel unprepared and terrified. but God has blessed me with another year, so here's what i'm hoping for in 2008 (my resolutions):

1. pay off unnecessary debit (i.e. credit cards and car note) by May -- easy
2. eat fruits and vegetables ... and drink water -- not-so-easy
3. put in the work to become the scholar of my dreams, and move beyond fantasies and procrastinating -- hard
4. reconnect with my quirky interests: experimenting with music, watching indie films, and entertaining my artsy side
5. (dare i say it) embrace life as an adventure... and write about it


easier said than done. this new year is getting more exciting by the minute... plus i'm turning 25 in august!!!

which reminds me of resolution #6 - i want my gift to be me in my best "shape" possible by 25

making the transition...

i wish i'd never permed my hair. i had gorgeous hair. it was long and thick... but i was so sensitive that a RAN from combs. in fifth grade, my mother decided she couldn't take it any more and straightened it permanently [is that were "perm" comes from?] i remember feeling grown up, like i had joined a new social club for black women. no more lil'-girl ponytails.
but it broke off; at one point my hair barely brushed my shoulders. i think i slowly started to adjust to styling my hair in high school. in my first driver's license, it fell past my collarbones. at Spelman i recognized the beauty of the hair salon and a fresh style - walking down the street with your hair flowing in the wind, trying to make it look as full as possible, and experimenting with highlights (during which it promptly broke off again.... and yet again my first year in grad school when i dyed my entire head auburn... but it was cute though). i tried to "grow it out" several times, but gave up each time the summer humidity left me feeling like a walking puff. but this time i think - i hope - that i'm serious. i'm no longer in love with my perm, but i'm terrified of being without it... correction - i'm afraid of cutting it off and having short hair for the first time in my life; afraid of being outside of society's norm. i'm afraid of the transition...

from november 28th...

i'm in an odd place now... i keep having these urges to express myself creatively, and i usually roll my eyes when i hear the word, "creative." something about my current process/stage of graduate school is stifling my creativity. i just need to find a way to express it... without shopping

been awhile since i've written... i'm attempting to grow my perm out.... again. this time i think i'll make it; i'm curious to see what awaits beneath my straightened locks...

thoughts on raising black girls

i wish that instead of being taught to keep our legs closed/wait until marriage/not give away the milk without the purchase of the cow (and all of the bullshit that they've fed us throughout our lives) we were empowered to view and treat our bodies as our property. i write this not to reinforce discourses that treat women's bodies as commodities for rent or purchase, but to break with the notion that anyone but us might have control over accessing our most intimate mental, emotional and physical spaces. i also send a resounding "fuck you" to the structures of oppresion (and people) that sustain the following ideas and practices:

- that there are times and places when women and girls must ignore their their discomfort with sexist behaviors as to avoid making those in the room feel awkward
- that we need to "tone down" our "outspoken" and "aggressive" attitudes so that we may attract or keep good men
- that men are the only viable option for life partners
- using the Bible to shame our sexual behaviors, while refuing to engage in critical dialogues of how popular culture defines our value soley on the terms of our sexual capabilities (or perhaps the more appropriate term might be sexual services)
- that only marriage validates sexual relationships and birthing babies
- that it's not okay to be angry about patriarchy and misogyny
- failing to hold men accountable when they disrespect women and girls or treat the responsibilities of sex and/or relationships seriously, but blaming women for being active, getting raped, catching STIs, or becoming pregnant
- that we are our father's property
- holding double standards of any kind
- conditioning girls to become women who are afraid or reluctant to voice their concerns in order to "keep the peace" or avoid "being difficult" within relationships
- conditioning girls to become women who place everyone else's wants and needs before theirs
- not demading that we be comfortable with our bodies, stop to ask ourselves how we are feeling, and seek help when things are not okay
- for encouraging competition amongst ourselves for men, friends, and material gain
- teaching us that only women with long straight hair are beautiful
- hating our monthly periods
- discouraging women and girls to stray from home as they grow older; for stifling curiousity
- not taking sexual abuse seriously
- failing to promote healthy relationships between women and men outside of the boundaries of sex
- not teaching women and men to engage in dialogues about emotional needs and sex throughout relationships
- never telling us that it is okay to change our minds
- never telling us that it is okay to be unconventional
- never telling us that we don't always need your approval

i could go on and on, but i've run out of time. feel free to add to the list. my purpose is to continue the dialogue of creating emotionally strong and secure girls and women who feel entitled to live happy, healthy lives by challenging patriarchy, heterosexism, classism, ageism, and religious discrimination in addition to racism...

i'm going through an angry phase. cuba always seems to do something to me... the first time it was because i felt isolated from those around me. this time it was the transition from living fairly worry and stress-free to being inundated with lists of of tasks to complete. even more, it's dealing with the differences i share with my closest friends and our perspectives on social issues, capitalism, and morality.

needless to say, i've been angry with the church. i have no desire to go. i've had to make a conscious effort to talk to God on a regular basis - to thank him for my daily progress towards success and growth and happiness. but it's hard to separate the two. i'm tired of moralistic judgements people pass on others. even more irritating is the ignorance people allow to come out of their mouths. how does it affect you if a person loves another of the same sex? why are you better than someone else who has chosen to sleep with multiple partners? who really thinks that it is cute to suggest that "bisexuals are just being greedy"? and why is there something wrong with people whose lifelong ambitions aren't getting married and raising babies with the opposite sex? i just don't understand how people allow themselves to become so preoccupied with the lifestyles of others that have absolutely no affect on their lives. why the intolerance? why not focus on larger issues, like the people around us who are struggling?

back in the U.S. of A

i cried when i left cuba. what's crazy is that i expected the trip to be horrible. i thought i'd spend five weeks in a cramped apartment, afraid of bugs, and watching dvds while counting down the days. instead, i met amazing people. learned a lot about myself. rediscovered music outside of dirty south. experienced bliss. realized that my spanish is limited (note: RUN to a spanish class and start studying the structure of the language). and laughed for 33 days straight.

being back is a definite adjustment. standing in the continental airlines at cancun made me fill physically ill. walking around the corner and suddenly being surrounded by starbucks signs, dozens of types of magazines and gum, and taned/braided/super-self-conscious people was too much to take in at once. then i remembered all that coming year is going to bring: studying for exams, applying for fellowships, writing papers, working, and being stressed about money again. but, with the exception of the last part, i love my life. i am incredibly privileged to have great friends, family, and opportunities.

now part three. i moved apartments the day after i returned. martin and broke up. it was my idea, and i did it because we've spent far too long trying to figure out how to "fix" things... we had only been together for a year and a half. clearly, the communication had failed and i'm too young to allow my self to stay in a place in which i'm unhappy. my mother is visiting me this week. tonight, i'm having dinner with one of my favorite people in austin. i'm leaving for atl on friday. i feel like i'm starting something new and i am SO excited!


p.s. i'm going on a "man fast" for awhile. right now things are all about me...

today i realized that i am twenty-three and 3/4 years old and I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT! that is sooo fucking cool.

yesterday i came across some old journals from cuba and freshman year. it was weired, because it was organized in such a way (or perhaps not organized at all) that i'd mixed notes from speakers at spelman, with random poems (i wrote poems? forgot about that) and diary entries. many of them dealt with my relationship with chris during the first several months. the beginning of my relationship with him was bullshit. we messed around, but rarely went on dates. i wasn't satisfied with our conversations. i wished that he was more ambitious and spontaneous. i thought about dating other people on a regular basis. even more interesting is that i was well aware of the transition in our relationship when it went from just being together to a genuine interest in him as my boyfriend. and, in many ways, things got a lot better from there. we matured as individuals and as a couple. but i don't know what is more painful when i look back at my freshman year - that my first love treated me less than i deserved out of selfishness, or that i allowed him to treat me less than i deserved because of my lack of self-worth.

school is out... i should be revising my thesis or working on the paper for the oprah anthology, but i've been working at the college forward office and being lazy during the evenings. not completely unproductive - i've become addicted to certain aspects of the process - searching for conferences, building my reading lists (how am i supposed to pick 50 books to cover latin america from the 1820s to the present?), and so forth. next month/next week will bring a new level of craziness to my life. i'm going on a road trip with my students tuesday through saturday. leaving for new york on the 13th. havana on the 18th. atlanta in july... anywhere but austin. i'm ready to start reading for my exams. ready to get to work on a new documentary. ready to embrace a new lifestyle of being uncertain... i'm twenty-three, soon to be twenty-four and i want to embrace being young and single and without spatial limits. i'm going to montreal in september and i'm excited. leaving for d.c. the week after that to celebrate another year with tina and my sister.

two thoughts... maybe more

1. Moya and i were talking about the unending drama of hip hop and misogyny and the state of the black community. many would love to attack hip hop as the current downfall of the black culture and social dynamics. to a certain extent, i concur. but hip hop wasn't the beginning of sexism; not the root of the sexual exploitation of black women; and not the first generation of black music to degrade women in its lyrics. we need to find a more holistic approach to fighting racial and sexual oppression.

1 1/2. in response to black conservatives/moderates/etc. who pathologize the working class and poor as so-called degenerates, i don't think that the "problem" with the "black community" is single mothers who don't take care of their children and a lack of strong father figures. certainly, people of all classes and races deal with fathers who walk out on their children. single-motherhood isn't anything new. the rest is too complex to even attempt to deconstruct in this blog. however, i think the real issue is a loss of "community." i'm not trying to romanticize what life must have been like in past generations. but we do need to acknowledge how the development of capitalism and individualistic ideologies have affected how we pursue our interests and goals, in addition to how we relate to each other. in many ways, it seems that desegregation contributed to the breakdown of the black community (this is a working theory... and i'm not yet ready to interrogate our understanding of what the "black community" is or what it should be). "get rich," "me, me, me" mentalities plague our overall society. the media has desensitized so many of us (myself included) to the point of not questioning music videos, sexual assault against women, or the rising number of black men and women in the prison system. you complain about healthcare and the person sitting next to you looks at you like you have two heads. people call you angry. others ask why you care, or worse, respond that they're gonna make sure that they "get theirs." meanwhile, we 1) bitch about what's wrong with the world without questioning how the acceptance of our own privilege contributes to systematic injustices; 2) look past/over/around those next us who struggle without caring or feeling any sort of connection; 3) (notable in the case of several celebrities) refuse to hold ourselves accountable and 4) value becoming rich people over useful people who work towards ending systems of oppression.

2. sexism isn't given nearly as much weight, acknowledgement, and validity as racism. r kelly can screw black teenage girls and his records sales continue to climb, but we would be out for eminem's head if he called dre or any other black man an n-word in public. i'm tired of black men acting like being black is more important than being a woman. i'm tired of being brushed off, laughed at, or ignored for challenging the status quo or demanding respect. it's time to move beyond looking at sexual assault and exploitation only in relation to one's manhood. we need a revolution in our understanding of gender and subsequent value placed on women.

more importantly, the revolution must start at home. i would never listen to the red hot chili peppers if they used the n-word, yet i continue to dance to the yin yang twins on the radio and in the club. i too am a product of the culture and part of the problem. i can't play both sides...

we need new leaders

am i the only one tired of the same group of people stepping up at the most opportune moments to address the persistance of racism in the united states? CNN has a show on "self-segregation" (because apparently black people have recently decided to place themselves outside of white society... of course, with no mention of white flight in now predominately black neighborhoods or the history of racial antagonism that has led to divisions social relations in churches, places of employment, etc...) with no black intellectuals. why no bell or dr. guy-sheftall? why the token black conservative who presents himself as the quintessential uncle tom by making stupid, outlandish comments about single parent households and young black criminals leading to the so-called degeration of the black community. furthermore, where were al sharpton and jesse jackson when shaquanda cotton sat in jail for two years for shoving a teacher? why is it sufficient for the national urban league to publish "state of the union" reports and not move towards demands for quality healthcare, raised minimum wages, or equal opportunties in higher education? i'm tired of black people who jump into the spotlight to gain publicity, but who are not daring enough to be radical in making demands (is quality healthcare radical?). i'm tired of seeing moderate politicians and celebrities become the spokespeople for the black community when there are numerous individuals who are more articulate and capable of critiquing systems of oppression in ways that are rarely considered... what are WE going to do about it? done with my rant for the day...

i hate being a TA. just another obstacle between me and my research. why didn't i go to law school?

i wonder if i'll ever outgrow the club...

i found myself kinda close this weekend. it's funny - i've realized that i need the club for something other than what i used to get out of it. i used to enjoy putting myself on display for men to look at. i'll admit it. i don't care. hearing "eh shawty" was what made the experience worthwhile. i spent the night grinding with random dudes. occasionally wondered if they might potentially make a better mate than chris. in the end, however, i always went home to him. it just made sense.

now i go to escape from austin. part of me is trying to relive that feeling of being young, attractive, and living the sex and the city life. (not that i've gotten old, just older). another part of me realizes that it's the only time i feel like a woman... in the sense of feeling sexy and full of sexual energy. however, now i'm more interested in taking things a bit deeper. i like meeting people at the club and making new connections. but, at the same time, i often find myself disgusted by the intentions of 99.9 percent of the men at the club. you can see it in their eyes - they're on the prowl to find the cutest girl willing to go home with them. and that's not really my style. i've fantasized about it - but it's never going to happen. beyond talking shit about dudes with nice butts and broad shoulders, i'm not really interested in anything physical with anyone i don't know. just doesn't seem worth the effort.

so then why do i keep going to the club? to dance? no - i could do that at home... even out in austin. i think going to clubs - in some strange way- validates my understanding of myself as a 23 year-old woman. grad school hardly makes you feel young. everything else is so serious. so not connected to the culture that i was raised with and learned to appreciate at spelman. i NEED to stay on top of the most recent music. i NEED to wear trendy clothes in a space where it's appreciated. i NEED to feel not married and without attachments such as children... hmm... an identity crisis, maybe?

countdown

miami was my first "research" trip. very productive. not only got a boatload of sources for my thesis, but also gained an awareness of resources available a u miami, began networking with the librarians, and developed a focus for my thesis. the best part - a realization that i'm not as far from my academic path as a doctoral student as i was at spelman. my thesis (for anyone who's not bored by history talk) is looking at afro-cuban women's concepts of feminism and how it intersects with white elite cuban conceptions of feminism and social reform. i'm very excited.

even more excited is that i'm returning to my favorite city this weekend! (well, one of them. can't forget about chicago.) i'm giving a presentation at the national black herstory conference, seeing people at toni cade, organizing a letter-writing campaign for shaquanda cotton, and (on a less academic side) trying to sneak into a few afterparties held for the national black lawyers convention. why am i living in texas again?

p.s. favorite quote from miami: (from a guy trying to pick lauren up outside of a club) "you need a man who can buy you things like candy and CHICKEN..." :) gotta luv black people

it's sunny out! and warm! and i'm in miami! i think i'm finally learning to embrace my inner nerd. i flew all the way to miami to... do my thesis research? yes! i checked into the hotel and ran straight across the street to the library. found a series of essays between a black woman and a (white?) man in cuba aruging over race and the women's movement in 1939. wrote up a rough outline during dinner. now i just have to decide if i want to translate some articles over drinks or ice cream. hmm...

p.s. deLaine told me an old friend saw my pic and said i looked "really good." then she went to go pray. why does she always have to leave a sista hangin?

why am i feeling so grey when it's sunny outside?

i spent the weekend in heels. peeptoe pumps to be exact. it's been a long time since i'd dressed up and put myself on display for men to stare at. i was amused, though not as fullfilled as i'd expected. i think it was the lack of one-on-one interaction... saw common in concert. fabulous as ususal. hung out with good people. walked so many miles that my legs are still sore, but toned (!). best of all- i got out of austin and away from grad school. i realized last week that this process is not healthy. we do too much. we place too many demands on ourselves. and we're never satisfied. there are many days when i get out of bed already feeling like a failure because i've not yet accomplished all that i should be doing - and i don't even know what that is. i'm working two jobs that take up most of my free time. i'm constantly running around, forgetting to eat, barely sitting down to pay bills. i barely spend time with friends, and spend limited quality time with martin... before i took monthly breaks from austin because i hated living in austin... now i do it cause i need the break from the intensity of school for my emotional health.

i saw a trailer for a hip hop documentary. it looks really good. but it made me realize how far i've strayed from the person i was a spelman. she's still here, but distanced from the things that made me "tick": critiquing pop culture, dreaming of ways to help black girls, getting mad about oppression, laughing over stupid things. i wish she was still here. i liked her better.

i feel like i've been molded into the person i was always afraid of becoming: unsatisfied with the world, but passively reformist rather than revolutinary; emotionally subdued with little time to feel and addicted to retail as a replacement... i don't know if it's grad school or austin...

i love martin but i sometimes feel trapped by our relationship (as much as i enjoy feeling secure).

i still miss my ex a year and a half later. i tried to make my self stop thinking about him by switching my thoughts everytime his name came to mind... days into my new strategy i started having dreams about him. so i gave up.

oh well. back to business

i've been in hiding... trying to be a productive grad student this semester. but i fell apart this weekend. not quite sure what happened. maybe it was my pms that always leaves me too tired to do much of anything. maybe it was my frustration with my lack of a social life as a grad student - no one ever wants to come out of the house, and there isn't much to come out for in austin. oh well. i'm leaving town this thursday. and twice next month. back to business for the moment...

fergie's wack

i don't know what fergie think she's doing in her "fergalicious" routine, but she comes off as having absolutely no stage presence... and while i'm on the subject, the billboard awards were superwack.

at least i'm done with one class for the semester. two more to go...

how am i supposed to bring my sexy back, if i'm a poor and busy grad student trying to make it through the last two weeks of the semester?

two questions:

1. tomorrow the UT Conservatives organization is hosting an affirmative action sale. i think a lot of angry people are getting geared up for an attack, but i could care less. i think it's a waste of time... am i wrong?

2. is anyone falling for common's lastest venture with the gap?

don't have class til wednesday. trying to do some work, but school is not what's up today. i'd rather be in my car exploring a major city. gotta get out of austin.

Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2: DON'T SEE IT

last night martin and i went to see texas chainsaw massacre: the beginning. it was stupid. very predictable and too much like the first remake. however, after my conversation with moya yesterday, i thought about a few interesting aspects of the movie in relation to the portrayal of thomas hewitt, the chainsaw murderer.

first, the movie shows the birth of thomas. his mother (as all of the members of the town where the craziness occurs) is poor and filthy. she's extremely overweight, serving as an exploited worker in a meat plant. her experience in labor with thomas defines his grotesque character with his entrance into the world. blood flows when her water breaks. she falls to the ground in pain and dies as thomas is pushed from her body. he, as we already know, is deformed. her boss throws him into a trash can.

he is rescused by a member of the hewitt family, who brings him home and raises him as a part of the family. and so the movie proceeds (almost exactly like the first)...

thomas is the typical disfigured, grotesque, misunderstood figure. his face is covered throughout the movie. he spends his spare time obsessing over his deformed face, attempting to "create" a new image with the skin of the innocent people killed. he is asexual- defined in relation to his uncle, who sexually assaults one of the women taken hostage. rather than seek a connection with anyone of the outside world, he hunts them down and slaughters them. but we never understand why. maybe we're supposed to assume it's because he is manipulated by his psychotic uncle. maybe it's payback for a life of torment as a disfigured child. maybe it's just "in his nature" as a violent freak. my point is that we don't know, because thomas is silent throughout both films.

even more interesting, the story is supposed to be based on actual events...

here are a few details from chasingthefrog.com that attempt to clarify the "real story":

How much of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is based on the real life murderer Ed Gein?
Ed Gein's homeDespite being heavily touted as "inspired by a true story," both Tobe Hooper's original 1974 film and the 2003 Marcus Nispel remake are only lightly based on the real-life murderer Ed Gein, who is suspected to have taken several victims between 1954 and 1957. Perhaps the most recognizable similarity is the film's house, whose gruesome content was similar to that found in Ed Gein's home (above right) in 1957.

Did the real Ed Gein ever wear a human's face as a mask like Leatherface did in the film?
The real Ed Gein did wear a human's scalp and face. The real Ed Gein did this however, to help quell his desire to be a woman, not because of a skin disease as with Leatherface in the film. Also included in his uniform, Ed Gein wore a vest of skin complete with breasts and female genitalia strapped above his own. -carpenoctem.tv


Did the real Ed Gein use a chainsaw to kill his victims?
Ed Gein's homeNo, both of Ed Gein's identified victims, Mary Hogan and Bernice Worden, were shot with a pistol. In November of 1957, police found Bernice Worden hanging from the rafters in a shed behind Gein's house. Her body had been gutted like that of a deer, and the head had been removed. Ed Gein was also the suspect in several other missing persons. The element of the chainsaw that was added for the film's story once again emphasizes the loose connection of the film to Gein.
-carpenoctem.tv

Who exactly was Ed Gein and why did he commit such atrocities?
Eddie Gein was the son of Augusta and George Gein. Augusta was a deeply religious woman, who preached the Bible to Eddie and his brother Henry on a daily basis. She warned them about the dangers of loose women, in an effort to keep them from being cast down to hell. She was a strict, hard woman, who never wavered from her own beliefs, which she ingrained into the family. Eddie's father, George, was an alcoholic, and Augusta viewed him as being worthless. She began a grocery business in La Crosse, Wisconsin, and when she had saved enough money she moved the family away from the sin of the city to a farm in Plainfield, Wisconsin. Eddie grew up shy and was ignored by the other kids at school, who saw him as quiet and feminine. If he did try to make friends, his mother scolded him. As a result Eddie turned inward and began to reside in the dark corners of his mind.

He worshipped his mother, and grew upset when his brother Henry criticized her. On May 16, 1944, while fighting a brush fire near the farm, Eddie and Henry split up and went in different directions. After the fire had been extinguished, Eddie grew concerned because his brother had not returned. When police arrived Eddie lead them directly to his "missing" brother Henry, who was lying dead in an area untouched by the fire with bruises on his head. The shy and seemingly harmless Eddie was quickly dismissed as a suspect, and the coroner listed asphyxiation as the cause of death. -crimelibrary.com

tell love that i'm angry

the painful reality of life: it's hard. not just because of these "systems of oppression" that we're always trying to deconstruct, but also the mundane inconveniences... responsibilities, going to work, paying bills.. recognizing that a "vacation" is a taste of a very privileged and ideal lifestyle you'll never fully experience. i wish i could move back to atlanta and live in a cute apartment, go out to lunch twice a week, a club or two every couple of weeks, be surrounded by black people, and dedicate myself to something that i wholly enjoy. is that possible?

which is why i've directed my anger towards love. first- i'm angry in general that we're sold this idea of happiness that is continual. it's bullshit. constant bliss and pleasure is bullshit. happiness comes as moments, periods even, but balanced with stages that are extremely awkward, uncomfortable, and painful... and confusing. and we've been sold the same image of love: that of a constant, unabiding, "i'll know it when and feel it," and uncomplicated state of being with another person. also bullshit.

several realizations & subsequent questions have occurred/arisen within recent weeks...
fighting sucks
how much fighting is too much?
how bad should it be?
is it possible to overcome personal flaws that cause such fighting?
how much pain (emotional) is too much?
sometimes i'm just indifferent to it all
sometimes one gives more than is returned
sometimes one loves the other more
fighting sucks
what if marriage is destined to lead to unhappiness?
what if i never get over my past?
what would happen if i just called?
love is a choice
it could always be worse
it could always be better
sometimes i'd rather deal with the bullshit and have good laughs in between than have all of my complaints resolved and no challenge to just enjoy the moment
maybe we'd make better friends
maybe it's all in my head
maybe i'll get over it
which is better: security in love or love that takes you out of your element?
am i just romanticizing the past, or do i miss it?
no one has all of the answers
why can't there be a guidebook?
we're sooo much alike that sometimes, when i get angry at him, i feel like i'm fighting against myself...
fighting sucks
is it wrong to take a break?
why do i keep feeling trapped by the boundaries that are a "relationship"?
i wish we never became official
everything was so much easier in the beginning
i am trying to run away?
isn't finding someone that dedicated more important that having fun?
isn't fun relative?
maybe it gets better with time...

if anyone has any ideas, please help me out

1. i'm in atlanta

2. i presented at a conference yesterday. food for thought: you cannot travel to another country for several weeks and expect to walk away understanding what life is like. tour groups in a country under a dictatorship do not show you the realities of life. tour groups are a purposely CONSTRUCTED experience that will rarely take you outside of the realm of tourism, that is, spaces created/maintained for foreigners (think about it... how many people in a poor country live in the tourist sector). i'll leave it at that...

2. yesterday, at toni cade, dr. k asked everyone what they were fighting for. i said self-preservation. i feel it every time i visit my family in chicago and see yuppies as their new neighbors, and i wonder how long it'll take before they'll have to move out. i go to austin and see blacks being pushed out of yet ANOTHER neighborhood because it's become prime real estate. and i return to atlanta, only to find that there are parts of the west end that i won't recognize in ten years. their erasing our history with each family kicked out, each home torn down, and each condo erected. i feel like i/we are being wiped out...

3. i am painfully aware of class (and my class privilege) everywhere i turn: at the airport, at the public high school where i now work, on the bus to school, in the cafeteria. all the more reason to dedicate myself to an activist-centered lifestyle.

4. i still love atlanta. must figure out how to return in 4-5 years... unless i get a job to live closer to my parents...

had a long talk with three black women last week. mental note: don't ever let so much time without surrounding myself with black women again.

five days into my temp gig working nights. everytime i try to hate it i look around at the people twice my age who never went to school. another reason to work harder.

yesterday, while at work, i heard this rock song about this guy whose friends had died. i started thinking about the people my age who haven't made it this far: josie freshman year; rachel's brother sophomore year; chris and tyler junior year; nate, nekia, amanda... way too many. and i know that they certainly didn't wake up counting down the hours. so i figured, either i could focus on hating life in austin, this shitty (but privileged) process of graduate school, and working nights for only three weeks, or i could be happy that i am independent, surrounding by wonderful people, and earning money. so now i'm trying to stop taking myself so seriously... again

i'm bored here in austin. and, after a summer of feeling unsettled and lonely, after a year of feeling out of place, i'm starting to wonder if i'm where i'm supposed to be. what part of the process is this? am i constantly doubting my current position because this is not the path i'm supposed to be following? or is it just a challenge to test my endurance and motivation? i keep thinking about my classes that are to begin in a few weeks, and i'm far from excited. my friends are beginning to come back, and i just want to hide. i don't want to be reminded of school. i don't want to think about being intimidated by professors, of racing to stay on top of my work and never being satisfied with my progress. grad school is a horrible, horrible process... and yet i'm privileged to be provided with a part-time job that pays my rent and spend my days reading.

i think that i might be taking on too much job-wise, but my almost negative bank account has me feeling the need to rebuild the cushion that allows me to sleep well at night. i'll never get used to being broke.

maybe i just need a break from austin, but i hesitate to move. i always fear that my "breaks" from a space in which i'm unhappy are actually an escape, leaving me back in my original place of discontent upon returning... maybe even a bit unhappier. which brings me to capitalism and shopping. the concept of vacations are interesting... most people who vacation save money that they earn at jobs that they hate, to get away from the jobs that they hate and live in a temporary space of non-reality (not the life that they hate), only to return to the job that they hate. what's the point? why not find a job that provides pleasure, and use vacations to gain perspective that will enhance rest of their life... or am i being idealistic. why do we work? why not sacrifice the job that pays a lot of money and sacrifice material needs. or better yet, why not recognize that material "needs" deepen our unhappiness... now i am being idealistic. if anyone has any insight, help me out...

Friday

so i've been trying to get my hustle on. i'm going to be a TA in the fall, but to make sure that i could pay ALL of the bills (since my TA salary just won't cut it), i went out and got a second job... or three... i've applied for this temp overnight position at the campus bookstore that, if i get it, will put an extra $800 or so in my pocket. i've started training for a desk clerk position at the la quinta inn where i'll be working weekends. finally, i've just been accepted to the americorps college forward program. this is what i'm most excited about- i get to help gear high school students towards preparing for and applying to colleges. am i crazy to be taking all of this on with a full course load, yes. but, the hotel job should provide me with 3-4 hours each shift with nothing to do other than read... and if it becomes too much i can always stop working... meanwhile, i've got bills to pay...

day 5

every once in awhile i have these days where i think about chris for extended periods of time. i call them bad chris days. they pop up unexpectedly, seemingly triggered by nothing in particular. i've been having one for the past two weeks... at first i wondered if, nine months later, i found myself thinking about him with such intensity because i was meant to be with him. but one thing i've never lost sight of is that i needed to end our relationship. i don't regret it. i just keep wondering why i keep coming back to this... why things still feel so unfinished. it's frustrating; i'm with someone who is everything i ever hoped for, and i wasn't even looking. it feels so stable, so nurturing, and so complete, and yet... last friday i was talking to one of my friends who met him before i did. apparently, his freshman year he fell for another student -hard- but she wasn't feeling him. i mean, it took a minute for him to get over her. i think that as a result he put a wall up that i had only begun to break down after four years. so two things about that conversation made me think. first, that he was able to connect with someone in a short period of time that took he and i years to develop. when i look at the way that martin and i interact and the way that he treats me it just makes me think, damn. it makes me wonder why chris and i couldn't get that. because i'm just not at a place where i can accept that we had no business being together. especially not after four years. maybe it was him and his immaturity. maybe it was me and my passivity. it's just hard because the thought that he could have something better with someone who is not me makes me feel inadequate. and that hurts. which brings me to the second problem: thinking about all of the makes me want to try it again. to fix things. to deal with the challenge presented...

day 4

ok so i broke down and watched the tyra show. definitely a waste of time. i've spent a lot of time alone, seeing martin for only about an hour each day. i've cut back on my phone time (slightly). it's wonderful. i sleep alone. i get up alone. i eat alone. i feel a little bit more relaxed. my thoughts are a bit clearer and less scattered. no deep thoughts yet...

day 2

yesterday i started a two week detox. restricting the amount/types of food that i put in my mouth has already demonstrated just how much power i give to food. ...and just how temporary the pleasure i receive from eating is... i'll be honest, i was frustrated when i couldn't put any mustard on my sandwhich for lunch. disgusted by my breakfast of raw oats, seeds, almonds, and dried fruits. and i amost broke down when martin fixed himself a steak fajita for dinner last night. but i made it, and i'm almost done with day two...

p.s. i've also sworn off tv (project runway not included) for the duration of the detox. hopefully it will get me back on track for thinking about the conference paper i need to write by the end of september... in other words, feel free to call me!

seeking...

stress is a bitch. i've never been good with dealing with it. i used to think that i was because i never considered myself to be stressed out... then, during my senior year of high school i realized that my body dealt with the stress that my conscious mind avoided. while applying for college and dealing with graduation and the stress of a large transition i developed extremely painful headaches. my dentist told me it was because i developed a habit of grinding my teach at night. so over the years i've begun to file my teeth down, leaving me with headaches caused by jaws sore from being clenched for hours and hours (even during the day). i have to wear a night guard until i'm at least 30.

during college i was diagnosed with ibs (maybe i'm reaching the TMI line again...). so, in addition to grinding my teeth, my stomach now responds to stress, leaving me with cramps, feelings of uneasiness...

and now, at 22 i've been placed on my doctor's watch list for ovarian cysts. my allergies and eczema are out of control. i constantly find myself with some new physical injury (though i do little more than walk to and from class and work). and i'm always tired. i space out in the middle of conversations and forget what i'm talking about. but what sucks is that i know that going to the doctor won't help. the majority of my physical issues are directly related to the fact that i've never learned how to handle stress... so at twenty-two i feel like i'm literally falling apart.

i need a serious physical and mental detox, but i'm so overwhelmed that i'm almost paralyzed with fear. i've become a zombie. i have little interest in anything but tv. and when i stop to think i'm overpowered with feelings of failure. of not being good enough. of not working hard enough. of not saving enough. of not being nice enough. of not being liked enough. then i start to plan my great escape from austin and graduate school, only to give up when realizing that my fears will following me to the end of the earth and that struggle is a part of this process called life... i just wish i could learn how to deal with it in a way that was healthier. i don't want to become a black woman academic, middle-aged and half out of her mind and in a perpetual state of hopelessness

as usual i'm anxious and quite uncomfortable with standing still... financially, i'm unsecure. i need a job in order to meet my goal of having rent money and saving to go to cuba in december. my savings is a joke. and, after a year of being out of college, i still struggle with successfully budgeting my money for food. oh, and i'm addicted to retail. corporate america is so tempting - to have a steady paycheck of more than 1200 a month is a dream. i'd love to be able to save hundreds of dollars a month. buy a condo. each at a good restaurant once a week. and embrace my passion for beautiful shoes. but the 9-5, 40 hr a week concept is a nightmare. thus, i stay satisfied with my current position. i have a great apartment. i've taken several trips this year alone. my car is in good condition and ready to take me anywhere my heart desires. i need nothing. i'd just like the security of being able to save money again... i'm trying to be cheap again. i left old navy without buying the two, very cute pairs of capri jeans. i didn't make the planned run to target to buy containers to organize drawers and closets in my apartment (my obsession of the moment).

our generation is so impatient. we want everything in the moment. i remember the strangest concept i've ever heard from a financial planner: waiting until u have enough saved to make purchases. i've never seen such a thing done. sure my mom always paid utility bills and the mortgage from her checking account, but a car? a vacation? clothes? it's interesting that so many of us are so in need of immediate satisfaction that place ourselves at the mercy of creditors (who charge a ridiculous amount of interest) that wait a year to buy big screen tvs, laptops, and furniture... even more frustrating is the need for success. here i am, 22 years old, and i want to be a guy-sheftall. i want to be publishing, lecturing, tenured, and traveling the world. i want to start a program that provides a new and profound approach to the intellectual development of the next generation. clearly, i'm not ready. i just wish i was - or at least a little less anxious

i'm trying something new for the summer... let me start with a story: this morning a couple of classmates and i decided not to go back to class after the break (well, we went back about 45 minutes late). in previous conversations i found myself offended by some of the comments made. today, however, i realized that she is a really cool, inspiring person with a lot of cool experiences and who thinks out of the box. so, i'm going to try something new: to try appreciating people for the goodness they have to offer. maybe it sounds super simple, but i have a habit of avoiding people who make me feel uncomfortable... meanwhile, i'm missing out

standing still

i've been in l.a. since wednesday night. it's my first time here... an interesting place. huge for one. about 90% of it looks the same; some a bit nicer than others but still similar. then there are the newer, suburbanesque areas or more lavish, ritsy areas. aside from the fact that the black social scene is SO much better than austin, i don't quite get the hype...

aside from exploring new corners of the world, i've finally realized just how much tv i watch. crystal doesn't have cable, just one channel that doesn't work half the time. at first i tried to ignore it by staying out of the house. then it became painful. i got annoyed. then frustrated. finally, i woke up this morning realizing that i had to find an alternative; turning the tv on would wake up everyone in the house. i spent some time on the internet, got bored, and decided to read the book i checked out from the library... which is another interesting story: 22 years later, i've finally discovered the true beauty of a library. sure i enjoy finding books relevant to my research. however, being in the current broke state in which i'm in at the moment, i'm finally looking to the library for books for personal enjoyment. i know this sounds incredibly strange, but my dad raised my sister and i to develop a library of our own. i've always read books that i bought first. it's even kind of weired to be reading a book that isn't mine- i don't expect this to make any sense to anyone but me...

SO, while reading, i started to notice things about myself and my surroundings... like reading the space around you solely by listening to the outdoors... allowing your mind to drift from one subject to another without the distraction of the television (which can be so abrasive and intrusive in a perfectly subtle way)... listening to youself breathe... noticing that my body craves water or more sleep....

sitting still for the first time in MONTHS, i realize the need to be away from the television more often. i wasted so much time this past school year. i could have accomplished so much more. written better papers. read books better. read more books. tapped into a creative energy i have denied for years. figured out how to be happy in life a a grown-up dealing with bullshit on a daily basis... i wonder what i've been hiding from. i tell people that i have basic cable for the "essential" shows - top model, the apprentice, oprah- but, honestly, i'll watch almost anything. i've told myself it's the necessary space in which to sit and do nothing; a way to de-stress... but is it really? especially when i'm wasting so much time? and i've also said that it helps keep me informed to participate in the intellectual discourse on pop culture... maybe it's my way of hiding from life.

one thing this past year away from spelman has helped me realize is that life can be cold, lonely, and painful... what's frustrating is that most of what exists in grad school is no different from the rest of the world, expect that i am in a serious position of privilege getting paid to read books and help teach students, working towards a ph.d. it's just so frustrating to realize that hazing, having to make small talk with people who don't have your best interest at heart, kissing up to people who aren't nice, working your ass off for little or no recognition, never feeling accomplished, etc., etc., are all a part of dealing with being an adult. and there is the fear of failure...

so i cover it up by watching tv. and by shopping. this weekend, i promised myself that i was going to devote my low funds to finding a dress to wear to a wedding next week and locating the perfect pair of peep-toe flats... instead i spent several hundred dollars buying dresses without a place to wear them, shirts knowing that none of my classmates take fashion as seriously as i (in other words, i'm wasting my time and should instead be maximizing my current wardrobe), and drinking (alcohol is a whole other blog, i'm going to give it up for the summer after the wedding and force myself to get back into shape)... even know, as i watch my account dwindle, i keep a close eye on these cute steve madden flats for when they drop below 29.99... i do this every summer. the anxiety of finally sitting still after a busy school year usually leads to my funneling my insecurities and worries into a costly shopping spree. at least the good thing is that i don't spend money that i don't actually have. (i hate credit cards) meanwhile, while i can stand in my closet and smile thinking about the new shoes, dresses, shirts, i have bought and will buy - the concerns and insecurities remain... in other words, i remain in hiding... however, this summer i won't have a job anytime soon. maybe it's time to apply my creativity to something cheaper and more productive...

three reasons to hide from pop culture

1. kathy griffin's show on comedy central, titled "Kathy Griffin: Strong Black Woman"
all i have to say is "REALLY, Kathy?" too many layers to begin to picking this show apart.

2. Jack Black's new movie, "Nacho Libre." not only is it insensitive given the current political climate, but it's racist to the point where i don't understand why no one is mad. he picks up a spanish accent and cape for the part, kind of a comedic take on zorro. it's a mockery of spanish-american culture (aka a minstrel show). it's the kind of thing you would expect from some frat boys.

3. a rap song that i heard on the radio two weeks ago, talking about "lick it, lick it, suck it for an outfit." now i love black culture, especially among our generation, but so many elements are out of control. i think we have the best beats ever. it's amazing to see the distinctions in music, fashion, language, dancing, etc. among regions within the U.S. however, every day it becomes more and more painful to listen to such music, knowing that it creates serious tensions in black relationships, whether they be friendships or sexual. hmm... a new documentary idea?...

yesterday, while driving, martin looks at me, smiles, and says "let's get married." i look over at him like he's crazy. i respond, "not now." he looks disappointed. i explain that i'm not ready to get married yet. that i had things i wanted to do first. he asks, "what kind of things." i hadn't quite thought of those things, except to live and not be married. so i told him the first thing that popped into my head. "travel...," i catch myself, "not that we wouldn't travel once married. there are just certain things that i've always wanted to do by myself that i wouldn't feel right doing if we were married."

i wasn't lying. but the truth is that i've always been afraid of marriage. not sure why. i look forward to planning my wedding and going through the actual day; but the day after is another story. this, perhaps, is the greatest difference between martin and i. when he thinks of marriage, he sees us sharing the rest of our lives together. i, on the other hand, see myself miserable at the age of 40. i don't know what brought this on. maybe it's that i have yet to see a truly happy couple (including my parents) at twenty+ years of marriage. everyone says it's hard work. funny, all the movies tell us that it is -that is should be- easy and fun. maybe it's that my relationship with martin started out easy and fun, and has transitioned into a rocky state in which we're finally forced to deal with some serious personality differences among the two of us. i find myself wondering, "can i deal with this for the rest of my life?" or "this is not what i signed up for" or "i'm too young to be going through this" ... i'm learning a lot about the both of us: i don't like confrontation, not even in relationships. i hate drama. i'd rather let things go by telling myself that it's not that serious. i'm tempted to run when confronted with criticism. in a way i shut down when unexpectedly confronted, i rarely lack the motive to fight back. (is this how chris felt?) martin lets nothing go. if he's told something is going to happen, he holds the person to it. he expects affection on a regular basis, especially during daily ritual moments (saying hi, goodbye, going to bed, etc.). failure to do so is a direct and very personal assault. as one can imagine, the past week has been emotionally trying and somewhat draining. i'm often pushed to the point of the indifference about the whole situation. if anyone has any idea why, please tell me...

so, basically, i'm not so sure that i believe in marriage... at the moment, i don't think it's natural. socially expected, yes. economically practical, maybe. but what alternative is there? what is the real difference between a long-term relationship and marriage beyond the ability to leave without breaking a "sacred" religious pact? ...and i'll take it a step further: sometimes i feel like love is a bunch of bullshit. i'm tired of sappy scenes on tv and in movies. love songs are stupid. hopeless romantics are trapped in a state of self-denial. harsh and pessimistic - yes i know. but, at the moment, i fail to see the beauty of love. chris used to tell me that our relationship would work as long as we wanted it to. i thought that it had just run its course. but now i realize he was right. our relationship failed because i stopped wanting it to. he gave up because he realized my desires were to be somewhere else. so now, if martin and i are going to work, i have to want it so bad that i'll put up with all of the drama. and i'm struggling to maintain the energy, stamina, and motive to keep up. again, if anyone can help me i'd greatly appreciate it.

and on the subject of chris... after almost seven months, not a day goes by that i don't think about our relationship. (i hesitate to even write this because of how it blew up in my face last time, but blogging is therapy for me...) i've gotten better. i haven't had any recent moments when i break down and cry while driving, walking to class, cooking, or sitting on the couch. i no longer have moments when the desire to contact him becomes physically painful. i no longer crave seeing his smile, hearing his laugh, or catching him watch me while i sleep. i don't remember what kissing him was like. i rarely think about his hands, or his feet, or him bobbing his head to music in the car while driving downtown. it's been ages since i've laughed about his thing for candles and "fresh air." i still look at martin and remind myself that he treats me exactly how i've always wanted. everytime i have a good memory of chris i'm able to remind myself of those moments that led to our breaking up. but i still find myself wanting to ask him certain questions i know he'd have the answer to. i wonder what he would think about the latest three six mafia or jamie foxx song. i think of funny things that happen and know he'd appreciate hearing them. most importantly, i miss the space our relationshp provided in which i could go to his apartment, change into his sweats, curl up on the couch, and forget about the outside world. i don't have that anymore. and i don't know if it grad school or being out of that relationship that changed things...

and i feel super guilty for even having these thoughts while being with martin. part of the problem is that this relationship has been so close to my previous one. and they so completely different. but my heart feels so heavy. i feel like i have so little to give. and the extent to which martin is enamored with me makes me feel that i'm incapabable of ever being able to reach such a level. i am so incredibly confused that i almost feel like i need time to myself, but i'm afraid it will do more harm than good to a potentially great relationship...

i should be writing a paper but...

i'm listening to this song, over and over...

Just like a star across my sky,
Just like an angel off the page,
You have appeared to my life,
Feel like I'll never be the same,
Just like a song in my heart,
Just like oil on my hands,
Oh.. I do love you,

Still i wonder why it is,
I don't argue like this,
With anyone but you,
We do it all the time,
Blowing out my mind,

You've got this look i can't describe,
You make me feel like I'm alive,
When everything else is a fade,
Without a doubt you're on my side,
Heaven has been away too long,
Can't find the words to write this song,
Oh.,..
Your love,

Still i wonder why it is,
I don't argue like this,
With anyone but you,
We do it all the time,
Blowing out my mind,

I have come to understand,
The way it is,
It's not a secret anymore,
'cause we've been through that before,
From tonight I know that you're the only one,
I've been confused and in the dark,
Now I understand,

I wonder why it is,
I don't argue like this,
With anyone but you,
I wonder why it is,
I wont let my guard down,
For anyone but you
We do it all the time,
Blowing out my mind,

Just like a star across my sky,
Just like an angel off the page,
You have appeared to my life,
Feel like I'll never be the same,
Just like a song in my heart,
Just like oil on my hands

catch me if you can

i'm trying to pack my summer schedule with stuff to enjoy my free moments as much as possible. here's what it looks like:

1. May 12-20 - turn in last paper. pick tida up from airport. spend next week shopping, drinking, eating, and pampering myself (wash car, get pedicure, etc.)
2. May 24-28 - trip to L.A. to hang out with crystal and lauren
3. June 1 - first day of portuguese summer-school classes
4. June 2-4 - martin's friend's wedding in mississippi
5. June 15-18 - nwsa conference!
6. June 30 - July 4 - COMING BACK TO THE A!!!
7. July 7/8 - summer school finals. leave for Cuba for 2 or 3 weeks

I CAN'T WAIT

haven't written in a couple of weeks, but it has felt like ages. i have about two weeks of school left. i'm excited and terrified. grad school is kicking my ass. i met with my prof. today. he completely ripped my book review apart, and all i could do was look at him thinking, "did you seriously expect me to produce a coherent essay despite all that i have to do outside of this class?" yes, he did. so i'll admit it - my bad. life in austin is... going... i wish i had the time to find the positive energy i once had. school has its moments, of course. i'm writing a research prospectus on Afro-Cuban women as agents and as cultural symbols within a transforming society after emancipation. that's exciting. and one of my best friends is coming to see me after school is out. that's very exciting. oh, and i'm going to L.A. for memorial day weekend. super exciting. i'm buying a bottle of champagne after this semester is over...

HAPPY FOUNDER'S DAY!!!

i see...

lots of black people on campus for the annual Texas Relays. black people playing loud music as they circle around the block several times, bumping paul wall, mike jones, TI, and groups that they never play on the radio here. freshly-washed, beautifully-colored cars with tvs and 24-inch rims. bass bumping so hard that the store widows shake. black women with tight jeans, shirts with lace, tiny shorts, heels, and ponytails. black men with long shorts, pimp walks, dark sunglasses, white tees, and straw hats. my favorite: a man with the fifty cent-type tank with red, white, and navy straps; jeans with red, white, anad navy at the cuffs, white sneakers, a belt buckle (with the front of the tank tucked in!), and a straw hat. black men on bikes. black people grilling in hotel parking lots (i'm not talking about the small, play grills either. they had the huge grills that you use for church bbqs and family reunions). black people walking in large groups, clearly on display for the world to take notice. black high-school students with matching t-shirts that say 'betcha can't do it like me" on the back. weaves, jean outfits, and pontytails to the side. air force ones. AND I'M SO HAPPY!!! i haven't even been to sixth street yet...

school is crazy, as ususal, but that's okay. i've got good books to read for tomorrow. i have two final papers to write that i'm acutally enjoying the process of writing. my classes for next semester will be on point (historiography of colonial latin america; a research seminar, a.k.a. no classes, just embracing my full nerdy side by conducting archival research; and black critical race theory and praxis). the sun is out and it's warm- again. and i'm gonna get some good FACEBOOK pics during the texas relay after-parties this weekend. speaking of facebook, it's a sick addition that i can't shake. i have nothing better to do at work right now, and i can't do homework, so i check my profile/stalk other people/search for new friends in hidden corners of the internet... for five hours at a time...

meanwhile, question of the day: how can we address the duke incident in a manner that is both productive for the "community" (not yet sure how to define it) and emotionally/mentally/psychologically for us as black women?

and just when the world seemed too stressful:

payday came, the sun came out, and black people showed up in large numbers to a FREE common concert... a lovely day, indeed

No one falls in love by choice, it is by CHANCE.
No one stays in love by chance, it is by WORK.
And no one falls out of love by chance, it is by CHOICE...

not sure who wrote this. i copied it off of a facebook page... ah, facebook... i think i would add to this statement, because "love" (this incredibly abstrat concept that somehow shapes our lives in the most subtle and extreme ways) is so much more simple/complex... becasue falling in love isn't just chance, it's fun and exciting and reinvigorating... staying in love is hard and frustrating and confusing... and falling out of love is painful...

i cried when i left atlanta. my stomach was in knots during the drive out south. i sighed when i checked in at the airport. i made it through security, to starbucks for my routine trip, and found my gate. but when the plane backed out onto the runway i broke down. this has been a hard week; harder than the past month. in a sense, toni cade brought me full circle to a place in which i was forced to deal with multiple emotions. returning to austin has been one of the saddest moments of the past year...

1. atlanta: i am no longer a student at spelman. and by spelman, i mean the lifestyle that it symbolizes: pusuing an education in the midst of an intellectual space crafted for black women; having virtually any type of black social opportunity within a ten minute drive; seeing and interacting with people who look like me on a daily basis; having money; living with two other women; having the time to just "be" and spend time with black women friends; complain about the problems of the world with like-minded people; engage in mindless activities like watching cable tv and finding the perfect sale; working out on a regular basis; enjoying domestic chores like groccery shopping and doing laundry; searching for bootleg cds with the latest atl songs...

2. austin: i am a grad student, which means that i spend my days reading, writing papers, taking classes, and STRESSING. in some ways, this is the ideal life. many people would probably tell me to shut up and stop complaning. but i take a different approach to my current status - - this shit is hazing... my dad always tells me, "no one's going to give you a degree. you have to work for it." i remind myself on a daily basis that graduate school is a test of endurance, motive, and passion. the work is never-ending. there is not enough time to give every assignment full and equal treatment without sacrificing food/sleep/breathing. no one tells you how you are doing. there is no shoulder to cry on (at least as far as faculty are concerned). and it gets even deeper... there are few young, educated black people in austin. that means no hang-out spots, few cultural events, no social space on campus, and little socializing. our schedules are all so cramped that there is litle time to just sit and chat and do all of the small but significant things that allow you to relax, recoup, and feel like a fulling functioning person... there are certainly moments and even days when i enjoy my work, but most of the time my brain is just trying not to shut down from overload... i often feel that there is little room for emotion

3. family and friends: wonderful. i don't always take the time i should to touch base, but everyone is physically healthy and productive. my dad and sister are talking again. after this semester (and an academically rocky first year at college) my sister will be forced to enter a serious period of growth and maturing... my cousin and close friend have two of the most beautiful children i have ever seen. I LIKE CHILDREN... well, some times. slowly, i'm letting down my walls... most importantly, i have learned to love and appreciate the fact that my immediate and extended family are committed to supporting and protecting each other

4. relationships: and i've saved the best for last... back in october -fed up- i decided to pursue the "life of passion" constantly sold to us through tv and movies. i broke up with my boyfriend of four years. started dating martin. and for the first time, genuinely enjoyed falling in love by kissing, having long conversations and nights out on the town (corney as it may sound), exchanging dreams, cooking, etc., etc. then we took it a step further; we met each other's families. and it was all wonderful. and he is still wonderful. but a harsh reality has set in: i'm still not over chris. being in atlanta forced me to realize this. so, while he won't talk to me, emotionally, i have two relationships to deal with. this past week has pushed me through some tough realizations... a. i broke up with chris because i wanted wanted time to myself. part of it was to date other people, but i had no intention of getting into another relationship. now, here i am, five months later in a full relationship that has become serious... what the hell was i thinking? if we do get married, that little month was all the time that i gave myself. i'm at the point where i rarely spend time alone... don't get me wrong, i have no desire to date other people, i just should have forced myself to be alone so that i could sort out my feelings for chris and martin, adjust to life in austin alone, and decide when and what type of relationship i wanted. i feel like i've screwed everything up. b. by being in a new relationship, so close to an old one, my perception of both has be tainted by comparing the two. once again, what the hell was i thinking? part of the reason i broke up with chris was because i realized martin (not just another man) could offer me things chris couldn't. that forced me to view martin in a light of perfection that blinded me from a crucial process of healing. and now, thinking about chris, confuses me. i broke up with him for a reason- he needed to grow up and my being with him hindered that process. however, until meeting martin, i was always open to the idea of us getting back together at some point. and now i don't know. see, if i had given myself time alone i'd be better able to tell if i'm missing him because he represents a time when things were easier and i was happier or if i genuinely miss the person i was around him... i don't even know if i'm missing him because i wish we still had our friendship or if this is just a part of the process of letting go...

my mother always to tell me to let go and let God; to let it go and give it to God... i'm just not at the point where i'm willing to let go because i'm afraid of a greater plan that is out of my control. i just need to trust. trust

i haven't been this unhappy in awhile. it's been coming for a few weeks... first feelings of dissatisfaction. restlessness. dangerously longer periods of pocratination. bitterness. anger. and now i'm overwhelmed to the point of being subdued. i don't know what this is; if it's depression or hormones; if it's normal or slightly more serious. i'm not at the point of hating graduate school, but if i stay on this path i soon will... i don't seriously consider quitting, i just imagine what else i could be doing... working at a non-for profit... living in another country... in a differerent (shorter) graduate program... pursuing some glamorous life where i'm happy. and that's just the thing - - why should i be in a program where i'm not happy? it has nothing to do with my classes or the people... i'm not quite sure what it is. maybe i just need a change of attitude... and a trip to atlanta for toni cade:)

there is a rat in my apartment. i spent all afternoon at my place watching tv until about 7:30. then i went to wal-mart for about an hour. i came home, started boiling a pot of water and then took a shower. i was in my bathroom setting up my flat iron to do my hair when i notice a few little bugs on the floor. normally, i would have been horrified, but for some reason i decided to pick it up... but it wasn't a bug; it was a little turd... and not just little either. i've seen mouse poop before and this wasn't it. martin came by and confirmed it for me. then we packed my stuff and left. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIVE IN AN APARTMENT WHERE I SAW A RAT??? i want to move

for the love of music

this weekend was beautiful... right now i'm still glowing, humming jill scott (the second album) in my head, thinking about beauty of black people, music, good weather, and -for the first time in awhile- changing the world...

friday: last day of class for a week. no classes. no homework (well, of course there's always work to be done). i went to the BAR ON CAMPUS (can you believe that?) and got tipsy with a few classmates. black russians are the new drink. went out with Martin to the club for the first time all semester

saturday: i don't really remember the day... i just know that i did absolutely nothing. at night we went to a quirky movie theatre to see block party. drank wine, at chicken fingers, and creme brulee (yes, at the movie theatre). i realized that, although i could certainly live anywhere, for the sake of my spirit, i need to be near a major city with a diverse population. i wasn't born in one, but i've gotten used to it... there's no need to turn back now

can i just say that block party brought me to a new place; my love of dirty south music has spiraled out of control during the past few years- i had forgotten the incredible feeling of listening to quality to music... sort of. i had almost forgotten the beauty of being surrounded by black folk who live by surrounding themselves with music, who feel the beat, who can't help but move they hear a hot song, whose bodies respond to a familiar song... who are simultaneously down to earth, warm, socially/culturally in tune, and politically conscious...

sunday: just have thank moya for the email for the "before the music dies" premiere afterparty... it was one of the best concerts of my life. it opened with some amazing austin-based jazz and funk groups, then moved to this incredible electic guitar player named doyle-something. i really like his music, and probably would of like it more if i hadn't grown impatient waiting for erykah. she came out with this new group- funk sway... it's a collaboration of a bunch of musicians, including lisa and wendy (who played with prince for years -what yall know about purple rain?), a popular trumpet player based in austin, doyle, QUESTLOVE (gotta love him), dj jazzy jeff and others... erykah kicked the set off with green eyes and played for other songs. then the group played several together... but here's the best part: dj jazzy jeff surprised us with an hour-long party AFTER the concert ended. it was AMAZING - everything from michael jackson to stevie wonder to prince to seventies funk to seventies r&b to some 90s alternative hits... i'm inspired

now i wish that i had gone to the movie premiere yesterday... it's supposed to be about the state of the music industry (putting ten superficial songs into rotation at a time, limiting the artistic development of musicians, and calling for a change). it should be going nation-wide in the next few months... i'm excited. after last night, i feel like i can actually do something to help change the music industry... i'm craving a return to good music on the radio...

i don't know how old i was. i think i was at tuskegee university. my parents always used to bring my sister and i with them on cross-country trips where my father attended black nationalist conferences or presented at other black intellectual events. i was in middle school, i think. i remember walking thorugh a large open area outside of the middle rooms. i was still short. the windows were tall and filled the room with natural lighting. i walked passed tables of vendors, stopping at one covered with stacks of books. i was awestruck. a man behind the table- with long locks and silver rings with chunky stones- reached across the table. i saw his hand before i noticed him. he reached across the table holding this book. "you need to read this he said." i took it and looked at it. he told me the author was a great writer. and so i brought my mother over to buy it for me, along with another book, "Gal." now, if i had a similar encounter with him, i would have assumed he was just trying to sell me something. interestingly, the a similar level of passivity and indifference to others and their commands would probably result in a similar outcome. more importantly was the book he gave me: "Parable of the Sower". if my mother realized what i was reading i think she would have been disturbed. here i was- young, reading about extreme violence, sex, and a drastically different world in rather vivid description... but i was hooked. even more amazing was the gift given to me: one of the best pieces of writing i've ever read; a science fiction novel written by a black feminist woman. in many ways this marked my transition to more mature novels that moved beyond ghosts, vampires, and sappy loves stories from the juvenille section of the junction bookstore. i can't believe i read that book when i was so young. it's still my favorite. rest in peace Octavia Butler.

i've decided that there needs to a simple, informative, and to-the-point book about women and their bodies. a quick guide book women can put on a shelf, nightstand, or in a desk drawer. something that introduces us to common occurrences with our bodies. let me explain: yesterday i go to the doctor. something with my body has been off for about a year now. (note: if you're not ready for the too much information segment, this is the part where you'll want to stop reading). i been having weird pains and abnormal bleeding... yesteday the doctor told me that i may have a cyst. now, not only did i have to ask her what a cyst was and where it came from, but i think she was trying to conceal her thoughts on how serious it is until i have an ultrasound. i asked her if it was large and she said yes. but i don't know if it is abnormally larger, dangerously large, etc. etc. you get the picture. my point is- here i am a young woman who's never had serious health issues, dealing with a doctor who either doesn't know how to break bad news or isn't the best at communicating with distraught patients. but someone/something needs to teach women like myself (fortunately, i have a mother who's been through this several times) what these basic health issues are, how serious they are, and what types of questions we should ask a physician to fully comprehend the situation at hand. because it took me three conversations with three women to feel even slightly at each, while i paid a doctor a lot of money to leave me hanging. i can only imagine what this would be like for women who are young, or who know nothing at all about their bodies. i can only think of how for the past several months i've been in pain and ignoring it because i barely stood still long enough notice. i'm even more frustrated with the doctor...

"Something New"

last night some friends and I went to see the movie "Something New"... i'm not sure how i feel. it's nothing like crash, where you leave the theatre wondering what the hell happened; whether you should be happly that racial predjudices are being exposed through the mass media or pissed off that the white man who sexually assaulted the black woman (whose husband had a conk!) redeemed himself by saving her life. or maybe it was the same... the same catch 22. on the one hand. the movie is extremely entertaining, tapping into the fantasies of young, heterosexual, single middle-class/professional black women frustrated with the lack of men at their "level" (aka with a college degree, job, property owning, etc.). the movie's characters are relateable (is that even a word?): they're intellegent and successful, bourgeois but still able to have a good time. but there is an interesting message that permeates the film. we can't have it all without a partner. even if we have perfectly good friends. more importantly, that we can't find that ideal mate who is our socioeconomic equal. two of the women in the movie find a mate. one is the protagonist's friend, who marries a black cook she meets at a rich white woman's engagement party. the other is the protagonist, who finds the perfect man --who is white. once again, i can acknowledge that this has always been a secret fantasy of mine. however, he isn't just her dream man; he helps her become her TRUE SELF. this is where "Something New's" "what the fuck?" moment occurs. first, he is aparently everything black women (and black men) apparently can't be: free-spirited hippies who connect with "the folk" through community gardens, nature lovers, dog lovers, and willing to drift from corporate america. then, there's the moment when he tells her he wants to see her completely naked- aka without a weave. finally, there's the complete transformation she takes emotionally, spiritually and physically once with him - a process she apparently couldn't undergo on her own or with her friends. so what messages does this send to black women and, more interestingly, people who aren't black women (or black men)? is it worth being mad? or should i just be happy to see a black woman protagonist in a "positive" role?

today i've made a new discovery: hormones are a bitch. actually, i already knew about it. but today is the first time i've decided to put it in writing. every month, around or during that time of the month i become increasingly irritable. maybe i'm preaching to the choir... i hate those moments when you (i) realize that you've just snapped at someone or gotten annoyed with someone for something that normally wouldn't even bother you. and it's not like there's a switch to turn off- you're stuck with the pissy mood until another one takes over. so, this morning i wake up only to become pissy five minutes later... part of it was for a good reason. but another part was this uncontrollable feeling of irritation that stayed with me for the rest of the morning, only to slip into self pity. i'm not normally like this. i don't like being like this. it's 70degrees and sunny outside with a perfect wind- yet i just want to take a nap.

p.s. this isn't to validate any assertions men like to make about women regarding pms. they get pissy and moody just as often. what's their excuse?

just came from a faculty-student discussion on the doctoral program. one of the professors was a black woman in social work, who studied intervention among vicitms of domestic violence who were substance abusers. an interesting comment: she noted that, in the process of studying/researching substance abusers, she had become a substance abuser. her substance was her research. we all laughed at her comment because it was true and a bit scary. how many times do we let ourselves become so wrapped-up in our work that it becomes our sole driver? how many times do we let it become so important that we put it before food/sleep/free-time/breathing? of course, i can't relate to this entirely. i still welcome every distraction i can get from work. not that i don't enjoy; but because i crave social interaction in a new place that is still becoming familiar. come to think of it- i was the only first year in the room. maybe its a warning for the future... food for thought.

why Texas is out of control

so today i logged into the University of Texas at Austin bookstore website... not sure if you all know, but a couple of weeks ago Texas beat USC to win the national football championship. it's kind of a big deal for texas fans... ya'll know i could care less. meanwhile, there is a special page on the website dedicated to the 2006 Championship, like footballs, pre-ordered dvds, books ("Texas Pride: the Story of a Championship"), mugs, posters, shotglasses, tshirts, beer mugs, wastebaskets, license plates... .... .... and it goes on for another eighteen pages. but my favorite item: a football autographed by Vince Young for $199.99. are u fucking serious??? sigh... why Texas, why?

back in austin, tx! (?)

never thought i'd say it, but i'm quite happy to be back in austin. it's sunny and about 80degrees. i have no classes for another week. i think tomorrow i'll go to the lake for the day. sure, there are no bourgeois black folk; no good radio stations; and no spelman... but i'm back in my own apartment (and away from my family members struggling to get along). i can curl up and watch a movie with my boyfriend whenever i want. i have a huge gym to use for free. and the nerd in me has to acknowledge it: the library is on point! so, i'm going to try something different in 2006, no more being bitter (secretly) that i'm not young, black, and fabulous in the atl... meanwhile, i've got a plan to keep up the good attitude: TRAVELING. next month i'll be driving down to houston to meet up with my old roommates for all-star weekend. then, in march, i'll be heading out to atlanta for toni cade...

confessions of a young black feminist: part I of many...

so i have a couple of new favorite songs, and i should be ashamed...but i'm not. they include:

1. "Nasty Girl" by B.I.G. and others... can't help but love that diddy
2. "Gettin Some Head" by Shawnna. i'm not even going to try to explain it. but the beat is bangin

written 1/1/06

damn, ya’ll, it’s 2006… 2005 was a great year. i learned to take advantage of the Atlanta social scene. made new friends. made a documentary. worked a fabulous job that, though problematic, forced me to become more assertive and less afraid of talking with new people. GRADUATED. moved to Texas. became a grad student. broke up with my first love. found the man of my dreams... met my cousin’s baby. lost a childhood friend. learned to be emotionally vulnerable. became a fan of live jazz. the list could on and on… i guess being here in 2006 not only means that i was fortunate to see another year… but that, being alive, i am still in the process of growth…

resolutions for 2006:
1. pay off credit cards
2. start a mutual fund
3. train for a marathon
4. (borrowing from Moya’s list) write on a daily basis
5. learn Portuguese
6. TRAVEL
7. find a way to connect with black students… not set on a specific age group

finally, a dinner conversation with my dad and godfather have left several thoughts with me regarding race. perhaps a point will follow later…
- black girls and interracial dating. many black women are still scarred from a childhood of socialization in which “beautiful” was a close to white as possible, whether it was through straight hair, “good” curly hair, long hair, lighter skin, light eyes, etc. etc. how many of us still possess the wounds left from feeling unwanted as girl children while black boys chased after white and latina girls? how much anger do we carry with us into public spaces frequented by black men/white women couples? what do we do for the black girls who deals with this today? additionally, what healing process do “we” (i.e. I) need to begin to allow people to be without sending out negative energy? at the same time, is it fair to assume that most black men date white women because they are presented as trophies in society through the media, etc.?
- blacks and higher education. blacks aren’t graduating from college like we should be. black men especially… black children aren’t being told about college. looking at my own cousins, black children are barely learning how to read, write, and add. i’m not trying to pretend that we’re the only ones experiencing this, but these are the people who look like me… there are so many levels to this problem, but nothing will change until parent become advocates for their children’s education.
- white people and white privilege - - mainly, most whites never think about race because they don’t interact with nonwhites (blacks) on a regular basis. their understandings of blackness is so incredibly limited that 1. they are threatened by blacks who are educated or have money even when they can’t recognize it in themselves 2. because they don’t use the n-word, don’t advocate racism or racial violence, and consider themselves to be “good Christians” they assume that they don’t need to deal with race and 3. frequently can’t comprehend the concept of a black person beyond the stereotypes of being poor, uneducated, and either a threat to society (violent, diseased, inferior culturally, etc.) or entertainers.