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.

letting go

yesterday i decided to call chris to wish him a merry xmas. he had his newphew screen the phone call and make up a bullshit excuse when he realized it was me. ..."ouch" is the only thing i could say. i was like, damn, four years together and you can't even answer the phone yourself? ...this past week, especially, i kept thinking about how things had ended between the two of us... i guess between school and being in a new relationship i hadn't allowed myself the time to proccess all that had happened. i felt guilty... i kept wondering how i was going to "get over him," but that in itself was confusing for me... see, i wasn't not-"over him"... i don't love him anymore and i certainly don't want him back. so then i thought maybe it was that i was still attached to the concept of our relationship. but that wasn't quite true either. sure i could think of the good times, but the foundation of my relationship with him was built upon this inner feeling that we wouldn't make it - a feeling i secretly had had since the beginning. moving to austin made me acknowledge it. meeting martin gave me the courage to end it knowing that i was denying myself something stronger, deeper, and more fulfilling... and yesterday, after being hurt when he refused to talk to me, i realized what it was: i wanted his forgiveness for hurting him. yes, he hurt me several times over- and that's partially why i ended it- but i had already forgiven him. i wanted HIM to forgive ME. of course, this is stupid for two reasons. one is the obvious- i broke up with him because he is immature and selfish- clearly, he hasn't been overcome by feelings of guilt for what he did to me. he only wanted to "make things right" so he could be happy again. second, i can't expect him to forgive me for breaking up with him. i realize this now. i guess i thought becoming friends would signal that he had forgiven me. but if we were capable having a successful friendship we never would have broken up in the first place. so it's over. i'm not a part of his life anymore. he's not a part of mine. i'm letting go...and i'm ok with that.

before i reflect on the year 2005 (we still have a few days left)... i vow to leave my grudges behind with this day. life is too short, fragile, and valuable to waste it being mad at people. just one moment of anger/frustration/resentment is a moment that could be spent pursuing happiness... xmas is in less than two hours and the 10 o'clock news lists multiple people who have died today. i can only think of what their families must be going through...which is why i'm going to let go.