Ballin' So Hard

8.16.11

Exactly one year ago, I thought...

Mah'fuckas put on their best threads to meet me.

I can see a lot from up here. What I see, that you don't, is simple:

This is the 4th dimension. 

 #CarlSagan  

And you really are little people. 

Today I think...

I do want fame. I do want fortune. I also want to disappear. It's a bizarre feeling when you transition from the little nappy head girl who was too dark for any of the boys to date & for anyone to be my real best friend. 

Now people just want me in the room to solidify their importance.

#ThatShitCray

 

Friends, How Many are Honestly?

7.7.11

Exactly one year ago I thought....

It's funny how friends come out of nowhere. Just when you thought you were alone.

The People

It's the people around you who make a difference in your life --it's the people who, by living their own lives, enrich yours. These are the people you keep around.

Hustle. Today.

        Loneliness is all relative. Time is fleeting or endless depending on how much attention you pay to it. I’m at a point where I’m simply trying to decide what is/is not worth my time. Most shit is simply... not  worth my time. Unfortunately, most people are not worth my time. People want to catch up with me and have conversations about nothing, and while I appreciate the love... I’d appreciate a check so much more. Don’t knock me for tryina get these 6 zeros to every one of my dreams. Fuck am I supposed to do?  I've no choice but to hustle. *shrugs*

Power of the Inner-Child

I'm nice, right? Lol

Last weekend, I stayed in and put puzzles together. One is the image you see above. 

The other, my life. 

        Far too much has happened. I've lost friends. I've almost lost more friends. I gained friends. Found love.  Lost it. Made choices and questioned them, but powered through & moved on. There was a possibility that xxxxxxxx would be the one. He was stable. He was sweet. He was grown --from what I knew. His only "downfall" was his being a father. At first, I questioned my ability to take on a man with such a responsibility, but when you care for someone, you set all their "flaws" aside, because you question if that flaw is really yours. You see, I'm hitting 24. I'm the only one of my close female friends --a number which continues to dwindle --who does not have a child. Bizarrely enough, the world has a great way of making it seem like it's a bad thing. So much so, I considered it with hi=m. He considered it, too, though. There were the talks New York City lovers have about moving to Jersey City to escape the scene and purchase a piece of the skyline from the other side. He murmured key words like "walk-in-clost" with stories of shelves for my shoes. Then I looked out of the window of my bedroom, to the cathedral on the 110's Horizon. I glanced into the open sliding doors of my closet. I surveyed the shoes boxes along the top & the exposed pairs lining the floor.  I remembered I got all of that for myself. I realized I need more. 

Happy Holidays, B*****s

Smile. That's all it really takes, forreal. I sometimes sit back and wonder what makes people so angry, but removed from the situation, it's easy enough to see why.

I live for life. Simply because I have one. I'm not sure exactly what I'm working towards but I'm fully aware of the multiple commas in the total. Life ain't easy. & it sure ain't cheap --not of you want to live right. Not if you want things to be a little easier.If money buys anything, it's convenience. truth be told, I'm a little pissed off I wasn't offered a ride to the bus this morning. But instead of complaining, I understand the the simple solution is to get a vehicle of my own. I refuse to complain. I refuse to sit and consider what someone ELSE should be doing for me because (lease believe) when the that check comes in, it'll be addressed to me & me only.

I've just caught myself falling again. I'm luck I was here. I'm grateful I pay attaention because the moment I begin to feel like "this is it," they fuck up & i'm stuck convincing myself he doesn't know any better. & I know that he doesn't. Still, I don't have the time to teach a man EVERYTHING. I can't hold your hand through everything. Either this is right,or it's not, but we need to figure it out now. & until we do,I keep the key to my heart around my neck. I've changed the locks. This is no spare. I don't have any children, and I'm thankful for it. Not because I don't see the beauty in children, but when I feel I'm giving myself too much to someone, I step back and reevaluate -the shit is new to me. I'm the only person who really matters in my life. I'm the one who has to get me where I need to be. So how can I possibly continue to concern myself with things/people outside of that?

30 Minutes of Truth

11:25pm

Let's see what I can do in this short amount of time. So much more than they think I'm capable of, I guarantee. That's usually the case, anyway. The thing about me is, I work best under pressure in a room full of strangers. You see, it's easier to take out people you've never seen before. Faces you can't put feelings to. Everyday I go to work, I feel like I'm ready for battle. I have to look better, dress better, think better work better. & work with some talented individuals. It's funny how people fail to see brilliance when you have too much character. They think the quiet girl in the class is the smart one, but really she just doesn't know what the fuck is going on. I was always talking. My work been done, Miss. If you don't give me work, I'll find something to do. It may make a mess, but I'm certain it's a brilliant one. Sometimes, my best prose is when I'm only partially here. So I only partially exist in your world. People require far too much. I can only be in conversation for so long before I start thinking of the other shit I have to think of. There's no time to waste. There is shit to be done. I worked 9:30am - 8:30pm on Thursday and Friday. (Obviously, I'm a fuckin' party animal.) Then, it seems I lost out on quality time because I work too late. That also translates to I make too much money. & If I don't now, I certainly will someday. I apologize if I've disappeared again but, when money calls I come running. When it's time to finish the race, I make sure I'm at the front of the line. 

Resurrecting the Golden Rule.

      

        The toughest thing about being becoming a better person is when people notice. You'd think they'd applaud you but just because you've grown doesn't mean that those around you have. but if you've really grown, you understand that not everyone grows at the same rate. I had a conversation with Katelynn this weekend about people & their thoughts. There are times when I wonder what people think of me, I won't lie, but I don't concern myself too much with it because I know that I am genuinely a good person. I try my hardest to be the best friend/daughter/sister/woman I can be all the while taking my flaws into great consideration. I'm not trying to be a "better" person because I think I'm "better" than others, but because I know that I can be. I've made mistakes in the past. The only thing I'm better than is to make them again. 

        By "better" I don't mean wearing nicer things or making more money (although those are very high on my list) I mean "better" in the choices I make. I used to do the wrong things because I "didn't give a fuck" but in reality, it was just because I was young... & dumb. It wasn't that I didn't give a fuck about what I was doing, it was that I didn't give a fuck enough about myself to stop and consider right vs wrong. "What makes you think you're better than everyone else and that you have a right to say what people shouldn't do?" I was asked. "It's not that I'm better," I explained, "It's that you know what's right and what's wrong." I never thought that my morality would become a conflict --I assumed that making good choices and trying to conduct myself with respect would earn me respect. But... I suppose one of the things I'm still trying to learn is that assumptions only get you half-way to where you thought they would. This past weekend, I earned respect from some while I felt disrespected by others. But you know, you win some, you lose some.  You can't please everyone all the time. (Another lesson I'm trying to take into consideration more often.) 

What's Really Important.

       

I feel like I'm a hopeless romantic. I can't help falling in love. - Rihanna "Drunk on Love"

     All day, I prioritize. It's basically my job. At work, the essence of my being is to figure out what needs to be seen by who and when. I am the gatekeeper of all data. I answer questions. I find solutions. I integrate those solutions into our work in the most natural, artless manner possible. When I introduce these solutions, they are to appear as if they had always been there. Even in organizing... whenever I move things, it has to be sensible. Everyone should be able to find everything if they simply think. Art supplies are in the light room. Stationary is in my top drawer. Filing shits on the bottom. & while some people gain comfort and start to do things on their own, others take more time. My job is then to remind them -- as kindly as possible. Depending on who it is, I'll get it for them. If it's my boss, I've got it. If not, you have hands. Now, one might not have written that in the description of my job (I'm not just here to organize supplies) but every position you take in life is actually more than what it is --if you do it right. If you do it well. 

Fancy Faux Foes

See she made her way from nothing. Can't fault her for wanting some things... She wants to live fancy. 

The Dream, "Fancy"

      I'm having a hard time balancing my joy and humility. I'm not (always) a boastful person, but sometimes my life overwhelms me. I don't mean to say that it's "perfect" by definition, but perfect by me. It really doesn't take much to please me. All I need is my rent paid, cute shoes on my feet and a $15 dress every once in a while. I talk labels because I love them --they make my heart swoon just like Frank Ocean (<3)-- but I have everything I need and sometimes I even get to do the things I want. I don't have acres upon acres, but my grass is pretty green.

     The only thing that bothers me on a day-to-day basis is what people think. Not that I give a damn what people think about me, but it does cross my mind. It's the fact that it crosses my mind that peeves me. I hate that other people even cross my mind when my life is mines. And, to be honest, it's the reason I don't hang with too many females. When I get around girls, I wonder if I should be more like them. Are they smarter? Are they prettier? Are they funnier? Are they more interesting? Is she a better person than me? Can she cook? Does she clean? Can she do it like me? Can she work that body? Throw that a** like... (lol)? I mean... it can really tear a girl up. Especially at this age, when I'm running into more and more women with decorated ring fingers and here is mine; naked and semi-ashamed that I haven't yet been claimed. And so I begin to think.. what is it about her that got her a ring before I got mine? Then I remember it's not about the ring --but then again it is. I'm not the average. I understand. So the man who marries me won't be either. With that said, it's going to take us a while to get there while we sift the the rest of the commonplace people in the world. The average Jane can easily find the average Joe, but... I'm shit out of luck. I couldn't be so ordinary. So I expect my private life and it's path won't be so simple. 

       I'm fortunate to be in a position to enjoy my life. Not necessarily financially, but spiritually. I have enough down time, enough relaxation to consider my place int he world and everything in relation to it. The one thing I've noticed, in my most complicated of thoughts, is that not every thought needs to be complicated. Sometimes, we (women especially) try to hard to present ourselves as intelligent and intellectual and we lose our actual selves. We're so caught up on the shit we learn from books that we forget to pay attention to the things we learn in life. Don't get me wrong, information is fascinating but life is exhilarating. There is endless information outside of us, but if you take the time to listen to the way your mind works, you can find that same brilliance within yourself. The key, though, is to understand that your own personal brilliance is unmatched.  

        I'm actually quite the package --complete with my pros and cons depending on who's looking at me. But I've accepted myself as perfect: even in the areas in which I need improvement. For example, I'm not a very nice person, but I'm one of the nicest people you'll ever meet if I like you. I'm a selfless friend, an attentive companion, an entertaining hostess, a fervent learner, a thoughtful worker and a complete person. But as I tromped up 5th Ave on Sunday in my most comfortable stilettos, I felt insecurity set in as I compared myself to some of the women around me. Maybe I should have worn flats, I thought to myself. Is this dress to fancy? I wondered. But in reality, I was wearing a $12 dress I got at H&M (it was too hot for my jeans so I had to change outfits mid-shop session), set off by my patent BCBG Girls strappy stilettos so my high-low balance was magnificent. Sometimes, it's a bit much to wear heels, but I'm a bit much, in general. And some women are opposed to it because it holds them back from walking normal and being a normal person but...I'm so good in shoes I sometimes surprise myself.  I carried this girl's baby carriage down the subway steps. No hands free. In my heels. This is normal to me. 

        Pretty is part of who I am. I care about labels. And I refuse to be ashamed of it. I care what I look like when I leave the house. I didn't always. I was a sweat pants and Air Force One's kinda girl growing up, but I'm a woman today and I've allowed myself to be. So I'm not worried about looking like all I care about is clothes, because the man who knows me, knows my intellect. And if he can't see passed my MAC Studio Fix & Maybelline Great Lash.. they hey. He must not be the one for me. I simply can't be so bland. I can't pretend not to care because it'll make me a "shallow" person. I like what I like and that's okay.  Because I don't save lives everyday, but I love my job. Your scrubs might get you respect, but my fashion outfit (all black everything, Prada bag to match [coming soon]) makes me feel good. The way I conduct myself commands respect. And once someone gets to know me, they surrender respect. I'm not worried about it. I sometimes come off as a ditz. I know it. I don't give a shit really because I have so much information in my head I can't let it take me over and drain me of my happiness. I think the problem is that I smile too much. Seems like I'm too happy to be intelligent. I dress to well to have read anything. I talk too much about money to care about anything else. But ummm... You ever notice that the people who claim to care about money the least care about it the most? They don't want to spend it. Can't let it go. Stash it up. For what? So you can swim in it like Uncle Scrooge? 

    We're just afraid to be ourselves. We're afraid to like pretty things because it makes us more base of a person. I met a girl this weekend, and she was fabulous, but I wouldn't be friends with her on my own. No disrespect, I just know. "You're so shallow, how am I friends with someone like you," she asked rhetorically, aiming the question at my Carl. Now, anyone who knows me, know I'm too over protective of my friends. I was in the kitchen cooking a late breakfast and through the steam from my spinach,  my brows furrowed as I tried to figure out where the ignorant comment came from. But, I've thought this though before and already know that all ignorant comments arise from the same place: Insecurity. 

     And I'm not one to trash talk... wait.. I am... but I didn't when I could have. It's a big accomplishment for me. I just silently ripped her apart (because I'm a good hostess) : The Seven Jeans. The Coach bag. The Burberry rain boots. The Polo shirt (I think, I didn't pay much attention to the polo because I happen to despise collared shirts unless there's a Burberry pattern on the reverse side and, at my job, Ralph Lauren and its subsidiaries are the enemy).  But somehow, as we browsed the men's store of Bergdorfs, I found myself overhearing her conversation about how "excessive" some things were (Carl was talking about watches) and caught wind of a slight.... "tude" when I was looking at a Want les Essentials de la Vie iPad case I might get my boss for Christmas because it is almost $300. $295 to be exact. The conversation was something about how a Honda and a BMW will both get you to the same place. My response? "Well one's going to break down first." Let's look at the situation. Here's a girl in a slew of labels (maybe all the labels she owns) in Bergdorf's commenting on the excessiveness of fashion. Then buy Levi's, hunny. And no one needs Burberry rain boots. Not to mention that Coach (wristlets & change purses are okay) is out  if you're under 35. And... I simply haven't seen a grown woman in a polo shirt since the last time I wanted a small fry & the polo had the Golden Arches on the breastplate. My apologies, but this is what happens when you pretend not to like fashion when you actually do. You wear all the wrong shit. Please don't knock my industry. No matter how big you think you are. We eat close to nothing, but our closets well-nourished and our arsenal well-maintained. We are an army of Davids, Goliath. 

      Now is it that I'm shallow? Or is it that I'm willing to admit that I like pretty things whereas the next girl will secretly fawn over labels hoping that no one and everyone notices? Or maybe it's that I've entered into an industry and am drunk off the punch? I understand what I'm in. Where I am.  I know how to do my job well and part of that is understanding fashion, it's players, its demand, its costs, its prevalence and its place in our economy. It is a business just like any other. If you are a doctor, you know medicine. I am in fashion, so I know clothes. If you're not complaining about how much healthcare costs, don't complain about how much clothes cost either. Because I'm healthy. I've got change to spare and so I will spend it where I want to. You might be multi-viatamins, I buy shoes. &, at the end of the day, it really doesn't bother me  because I place a silver necklace where your stethoscope lie. 

      Whatev. I'm a smart kid. I just also like to be fly. It's okay to like nice things. The photo above is of my future home on Columbus Ave because The reason people get nice things is because it does make you happy. Not the thing itself, but in knowing that you've done something for yourself. In having a physical reminder of what you've accomplished. To a girl who's mom busted her ass for some $70 Nikes, things mean something to me. Because its the same things I knew I could never have. Sometimes I sit and look at my closet and smile. Because I am grateful. Because I put all of that there.  Because it makes me happy. Because I deserve it. Because I worked hard for it. And everyday, when I get dressed and put on the expensive things I bought just for me, I remember everything it took to get here. & when I put on the things that were bought for me, I remember that others have also witnessed my worth. Everything I clip my Skagen, it snaps shut with the sound of gratitude. Every click of my heels --from Betsey to Nine West to BCBG to Lucky-- hits the cement with a solid stride of pride. So forgive me for being such a base person, but maybe if I had had prettier things earlier, I'd be tired of them now. Unfortunately, that is not the case. Now, all I want to be is the girl with a big brain, big personality, big dreams and a big closet. 

Big deal. 

Like my CJ just said (the way it should be said), "I went college to do what? Shop at Target and drive a Chevy Cavalier?" No, babe, we sure as fuck did not.

 #Gucci. lol

I Found Myself, All by Myself.

So long. Farewell. My life's moving forward, my ship has sailed. And I'm so glad it's over & my heart is well. After all that I've been through, I found myself. --Ciara "I Found Myself"

     I'm done with a lot of shit. I'm really just done... giving a fuck. I've retired from focusing on other people's emotions. People hold you hostage, yo. They want you to be who they want you to be when they want you to be it. To be where they want you to be when they want you to be there. And get there in the manner they deem most fit. 

    Who the fuck do people think they are? And this is to no one in general. And this is for no reason in particular expect that I feel like in every decision I make, I'm considering who's feelings will be hurt and what someone else will think. It's stressful... and really you shouldn't put that much stress on people. When I was younger, I used to wait all year for the holidays because there was a chance I'd see my cousins: a group of wild guys with hearts bigger than they care to show. But for the past couple of year, as people grew up, started families, moved away and passed away, things began to differ. We never see the effect people have on us until you miss it. You never truly understand what it is that brings you together with people. Just imagine when that link is gone.  On July 4th, I remembered that I miss my brother. And... umm... form here on out I'll probably only write about things like this because if I video blog, it, you'll all get to see me a hot mess. I might end up breaking down and crying uncontrollably like I did on the 3 train. 

       My brother passed away 4 years, 10 months and 22 days ago. His birthday is in 18 days. I have the dates tattoo'd on myself, but it's not like I'd ever forget. His is the only birthday I ever actually knew.  I don't even know where to go from here. I'm sitting at my work computer and trying to hide the tears but I mean... maybe I need a bathroom break. The problem with talking about this is that I don't want pity. There's no reason to pity me. Having and losing my brother were the two best things to happen to me.  Please give me a moment to explain: Anyone who knew my brother --and really knew him -- loved him. He was a short man with a hot temper, quick wit and an infectious smile. He was vibrant. He was headstrong and dependable. He was fun and wild. He took risks.  He gambled heavily and won often. He had many secrets but never made you feel like he was holding anything from you. If you met him, you'd have wanted him to be your best friend. Some of us were lucky enough. 

     I fuckin hate boys. There was once a time when my brother hated them for me.  So know as I fumble between thoughts of loves lost, prince charmings and men I think I might've found new love in-- I ummm... don't give a fuck. I try and try to give men as little importance as possible but end up focusing on how not to focus on them. I'm fucking myself up, really. So everytime I sit and try to write a post to you guys, I strap myself into this fucking rollercoaster and change my mind from one paragraph to the next.  The truth of the matter is that my brother raised me right. I'm not saying that everything I've ever done has been perfect, but I think he would understand the moves I make and not call them mistakes. I've made decisions. And each decision I make --right or wrong in the eyes of a passerby --has been correct for me. It's what made me happy in that moment. Would you trade one moment of complete bliss for an eternity in hell? I would. 

         I was around 72nd St. the other day and sat on a bench next to some Colombian evangelists. I know they were Colombian because I was partially raised by one and the accent is unmistakable and I know they were Evangelists because, unfortunately, I've sat through the bullshit one too many times. The dude was going on and one about how the people behind Harry Potter films are damning children's souls to Satan. Really dude? A movie, though? Whatever...  You just can't let people take your happiness out of fear of what is going to come next. It's like... sex on the first date. They say you shouldn't do it, but what if it's amazing? What if you don't regret it? And if it was as amazing as you'd hoped it would be, wouldn't you enjoy it? And even if he never speaks to you again... well..You know what? I still effed you. lol.. This isn't written to make all you little girls go out there and act a mess, its simply to say that if you make wrong decisions, you better make them correctly. Make them be worth it. I mean, I'm gonna watch Harry Potter even if it does mean I'm going to hell... because what if hell doesn't exist? Then, all I did was miss out on the art and hard work of a group of people who's soul purpose was to entertain me by showing me a skill they've mastered. Same thing with these boys. 

         I've put the shield back in front of my heart. There are no walls -- I don't believe in those anymore. I'm willing to experience. I want to experience You. See what you're about. See where your head is at. But only at the moments when it fulfills me. I have lots of friends and family members who ask to see more of me. & I'm sorry but I just can't do it. This is my timing. This is who I am. Just because I live closer/farther, that doesn't change how much I speak to a person. I write on Brit's wall about as often as I was stop by her dorm room when I was at Loyola -- I just can't see her and the other Brits' pretty faces. I have phone conversations with Ashley at about the same rate I'd sit at the kitchen table  with her and go over... life --we just can't do it over a custom-made whatever-the-fuck-is-in-the-fridge dinner or... a hot glue gun party. Carl and I text as often as we always did -no real change there. Crystal and Sabrina. Those are my homies. We've all disappeared for a while at a time. They know what it is so I never worry about them. 

     It's hard with my family. Honestly, growing up, I only really saw them at holidays. Not for any reason in particular, that's just the time for family.  So when it comes to hanging out regularly, like friends, it gets tough. My cousins all hang together. They're each other's best friends. And that's beautiful because they grew up together and got to have that. But I had friends  friends --like Crystal & Sabrina. I mean... those girls are my family and there is no discussion on it. And sometimes, that gets tough. Because I'm forced to attempt to differentiate, but there is no difference. The same stories my cousins have with each other, I have with my friends. So, they come higher on my level of importance than some people might deem correct. But then, I have to place everyone against my real family: My mother, my sister and my brother-in law. Sometimes, we do things just us. Like, Christmas. While everyone was so concerned about who they had to visit and where to go, we just went home. We did nothing. And it was perfect. 

        You have to understand that people aren't all like you. We do different things. We enjoy different surroundings. And just because you're used to a certain way of life, a certain type of celebration, particular preferences and expectations, that is not the life of someone else. You've got to leave people alone. I don't visit. I don't call. I don't text. I don't mail. I don't Skype. I don't post. I don't reach out,so you think I must not like you. Something must be wrong. The truth of it is, nothing is wrong. & you don't concern me. & I do want to spend time with certain people... I really do --but I don't have the time for it. I'm busy rollerblading in Central Park.  

     You also have to understand that you aren't the most important person in anyone's life except your immediate family. I'm not saying this to be cold, rather to be honest. It's not that people don't love you (I probably love you), but the most important person in anyone's life should be themselves. It sounds selfish but... hey. I've been trapped in the mood lately and am unsure of if I want to break out of it. Simply because I know that I'll make the right decisions in the end. There are places I go, where I don't want to be but I make it work for me. The day I went to Ashley's graduation, my mind was... everywhere and no where. But my heart told me I had to. And I had to. So when I was there, I focused my energy into the kitchen. I was a little rude (I admit) and didn't sit at the table with the rest of the "recent grads" having conversation I really don't give a fuck about anymore... but I didn't want to have that conversation.  I knew what it was gonna be. I had nothing to contribute. That conversation wasn't making me happy. So... my energy was assigned to making sure Gary and Grandma had water and stayed cool. (Grandma actually stole my water when I came in but hey... she was silently running things, yo.) 

         I don't know what it is. I might just not like people. I don't like to have an obligation with anyone. No one should make we do anything. Anyone who's met me know's it's hard for me to play second to anyone or anything. I want to be the boss. I want to call the shots. I want to do what the fuckI want to do. And most times, I just want to be by myself.  I was talking to Carl the other day and he was telling me about how he has all these people staying with I'm one after another and I just wanted to ask him: When's the last time you had time to yourself. (& he's a wise person so he brought it up on his own.) You have to be able to be alone. To enjoy your own company. Iw as supposed to go to Jones Beach with my cousins on the 4th --and I was truly looking forward to it --but I fell in love with myself. And more... 

I finally celebrated my independence. I've finally found my freedom --as an individual. 

More on that in my next post... 

<3 cinderELLA

       

    

My Fly-School Teacher

Graduated. Rich-Nigga Wife training. J. Cole, "Higher"

I'm an Aries.  & according to the stars, Leos are my perfect match. But my Leo is more perfect. 

Weeks.

Leo Weeks.

      I'm trying to remember how I met Leo. It was through Crystal somehow. I met most people through Crystal.  He was undoubtedly older than us, but I never (and still don't) know by how much. I don't even remember what we did when we all hung out, besides just hung out. All I remember is that Leo was/is a real Jay-Z fan and was/is fly. 

        And not fly like... Fancy Adidas fly... like... Mitchell & Ness $300+ Jersey with the tag still on so you aren't confused as to how much he spent fly. I'll never forget that day. & Leo knows what I'm talking about but he doesn't quite know the back story to it all. That day, Crystal and I had gone to chill with these kids who were (not so) secretly lame but all the little girls around the way liked them.  Here's the thing, growing up dark-skinned in Central Falls, Rhode Island wasn't terrible, it just gave me a very limited pool to choose from. Columbians were not in the pool. Not my type, gracias. So... in the middle of the day, these boys were in their house, taking shots of idk what. Crystal had already started drinking at that point, but I was still on my sober if it wasn't green. Now, don't get Crystal confused. Yes, she may have taken a shot, but as soon as the boy tried to lead her to a back room, we called Leo in a "grab ya coach bag & get the fuck outta there" move. This doesn't make Leo a sucker. & I wouldn't want him to think that... thing is, we were riding with Leo. These other little dudes were lame and it didn't take us but 13 minutes to notice it. I thank Leo for that. 

         The reason the word "swag" is so big now, is because for years people have been trying to figure out what it was Leo had back then. We owe him. Leo had the smoothest, coolest persona I've ever come across in my life. He's actually the only person I would willingly copy with absolutely no shame. He never acted out of character and was always cool and composed. The only time he said anything "dumb" was when he was talking fly shit about how fresh he was. The thing is, you'd let Leo say whatever the fuck he wanted cuz.... "Whatever Leo say, Leo probly do." Back int he day, Leo had the white Taurus (with the tints, if I recall) and would come through where ever we were at. At that time, neither Crystal nor myself had cars, but we both got them at 16, which when means we were chillin with Leo & 'em, we had to be 14-15 *damn* lol. 

        He helped me mature. But not in a bad way. I wasn't involved with Leo, so I'm glad to be able to credit this to a true friend rather than some dude who ran up in me. Leo shaped my mind. The slick shit Leo said/planned/did was fascinating to me. Like the idea of inserting Diamonds into a Simpson's watch he got from Burger King. Say what you want, but Leo wore that watch with pride and was flyer than anybody then and now.  Leo taught me that if you talk fly shit, you gotta back it up. Along with "fuck everything. Get money". I talk fly shit now, only because I know how. Fly is a language.  Leo & I have conversations.  When I met Leo, I wasn't the freshest female out there. But I had to make an effort. Leo always came through with the crisp whites (and more than likely had an untouched pair in his closet, just in case) so when I got my little check from my summer job, I would go out and buy myself a pair --I knew Leo wouldn't have accepted anything less. Leo taught me that money matters. Right or wrong, people respected Leo because, even back when, he was doin it big & doing it well. & As a female, I expect nothing less from the men I'm associated with. Partially because it's what I expect, and partially because one day, Leo will meet the man I marry, so my future boo cannot be a lame.

         As a man, Leo was/is... a man. He drove us around. He looked out. He was respectful. He was like an older brother to me. Literally... he reminded me of my older brother. Thing is, I'd never be able to chill with my older brother. Hanging with Leo allowed me to see what a man should be like towards women outside of his family. Whether he's involved with them or not. I had and have nothing but respect for Leo  because he always treated me the same. & He had nothing to do with me. He also treated my friend with respect, which made me adore him more. Back then, I hated any guy who treated my friends like shit. Back then, in the days of Leo, I never gave my input because I didn't have to. I trusted him with my friend no matter what. Whether she gave him heart or body or both. I felt no need to ask questions. That is how you know a good dude from afar.

      I feel for the girls who grow up with no Leo of their own. You have no one to show you what a man should be like when you meet him. It's one thing for a man to be nice to his girlfriend. It's another for him to love his family. They way a man treats women with no relation to him means the world. Initially, Leo was a stranger who treated me with nothing but love. How could I expect anything less somewhere else? So when I think of the woman I want to be, I think of the type of woman Leo would consider a prime pick. It's the same way I think about my brother. I'd never disappoint him. Having someone like that in your life keeps you focused & fresh. At 15 I was talking slick shit men couldn't quite handle. When I was 13 and broke, I was already rocking knock-off monogram LouisV (the belt, the watch, the wallet all complimented with  LV studs in my ears). I'm not bragging about my fake shit, but I was still spending $30 on a belt on a bad day --in the 8th grade. & While many females now are rocking the stuff (with they old asses), I had that all 8 years ago. I was always a bit advanced for my age, I think Leo would agree. But thanks to him, I was able to harness that and exploit it to its full potential. 

    I'll admit it. Leo taught me. Back in the day, I'd have had on the fresh Nikes with a cute outfit to match. So as I sit here at work, Zara heels under desk (with 4 additional pairs under there in case I change my mind) in the Milly dress, practically dripping in Calvin Klein jewelry, warmed up by a Zara scarf and a Trigère coat... I'm still thinking of flyer shit I can't yet afford. I'm shittin on them now. Imagine me in a couple of years. & I plan on catchin up with Leo again soon. I told you all before that I went to Dope University, right? Well, Leo was one of my professors. My mentor. A guru, in a sense. We'll call him my "Fly-School Teacher". It'll be like a reunion. I'm looking forward to it. 

Leo taught me well. 

The Freakin Weekend Part 1: Birds of a Feather

Mami took a bus trip. Now she got her bust out. Everybody ride her, just like a bus route. 

-Jay-Z Empire State of Mind.

Shit happened. 

 Here's the only thing that sucks about moving to New York: Lack of same-sex friends. Now, I know how to meet men, but how do I meet women? Where do I go to find girls who I have things in common with? Who I'd like to party with. Some people would say "At work," but seeing how I'm the youngest one in my office and one of three four Black females in the department, you can see where the struggle lies. Not that I won't go out with older people, I will. And I can enjoy myself thoroughly while there... but when hanging with people from work, you have to present yourself in a certain way --I need to keep this job. And sometimes, I don't want to watch myself so much.

         Then again, I ain't no wild thang anymore. AND, I met a girl at the bank. I lost my ATM card (Actually, I know exactly where it is: inside Crystal's car door, it just so happened to fall in the crack where the window comes up. What a pair we are, huh?) so I went to the bank, last minute, to get a temp card. The girl ended up helping me even though the bank was about the close. Naturally, we got to talking. Seemed we had a lot in common. She was a college grad who had just gotten a place in Harlem. I'm a (new) college grad who was looking for a place in Harlem. & We're both sistas. She gave me her number & we decided we'd get together eventually. After a couple of weeks, Friday was that "eventually".  I showed up to her place & she had a friend there with her. From the jump, I knew the friend was a swimming in the ghetto end of the pool, but to each her own, right? The friend went on and on about how she was a designer -- to the point to where when she disappeared in the club, she called it networking. Riiiight. (Small confession, I love fashion but I hate fashionistas.) But it was before we even left the house that I started to feel like I didn't fit in. If you read "I Hate Fashionistas",  I'll go into the superficial: How you can tell the difference between yourself and your friends by the way you all dress. How you dress is a direct expression of who you are. You choose your outfit. It says something about you, something that resonates throughout the rest of your being. Later that night, I realized how right I was. 

         When we pulled up to the club, come to find out, no one wanted to pay. We were supposed to go to Highbar. Here I was on Facebook, bragging about partying on a NYC rooftop and these... bitches didn't want to go in? Look. I was ready to pay. They gave their excuse about how "I ain't partyin no where  I don't get in free or I go to wait in lines." I understand that mode of thought. I lived that in college. I've been there. But.. I was willing to see what kind of "pull" these girls had. We ended up at some B- spot where they played nothing but house music all night long. Yes, we got a bottle, that was the perk. The only perk. Here's my thing though. I have  money. I'd have rather paid $20 to get in and $20 for my drink so that I could party with prettier people and better music. It just wasn't my crowd. All the men were small and it was a predominantly white club/bar. Granted, I see nothing wrong with that, and I can enjoy myself there. But as for my visual stimulation? I need something more. I didn't party at "bars" until my senior year in college. Until I had seen what was out there. Until I had my fill of Baltimore. I haven't had my fill of New York yet and I felt like I was missing out. I thought that since I was going out with "sistas", maybe I'd run into some brothas. NOPE.  Here I was, in this club full of drunk white girls with two broke black girls leeching off liquor they didn't pay for. But you know me. I poured myself a cup anyway. 

         I ended up kicking a guy dead in the chest with my closed toe pump. Like... hard. See I was going up the stairs and someone smacked my on my ass, so my reflex said kick. So I cocked my leg back... and kicked. Take note I wear heels 5 days a week (minimum) so my calves are strong as hell. As I turned around to see him grabbing his side, I noticed it was one of the girls I came with who had smacked me. Oops. I apologized as they pushed me up the stairs. We sat on the bench near the bathrooms laughing our asses off when the guys came up stairs. I guess they thought that was their in. The reason I had kicked (for the most part) is cuz these guys weren't attractive. But Bank Girl was all into the friend, ol' boy. The guy I kicked sat next to me and tried to play his cards. He pretended not to hear me when I said, "Our drinks are all empty," so I pretended not to hear him when he asked if I had  Facebook. He pulled out his phone and navigated to his search screen. I turned to look the other way as he asked me how to spell my name and he got upset. I mean, I'd rather ignore him there and then, rather than to have to ignore him online. Or at any other future point in my life, for that matter. "You can leave now if you want," he said to me. "I was sitting here fist," laughed. "But, thank you, I guess." I nudged Bank Girl and her response to me was, "We should get drinks." No. We should not, I thought. 

    When we all got up, I smooth made my way back to our table and ended up (regrettably) texting "Him" since I was so bored. As Bank Girl closed off the night pretending to be in love with ol' boy, we made our way out the club & she stopped to talk to a guy yelling for us to go to his after party.  In the midst of avoiding him, Bank Girl comes out and says, "Our limo is waiting on us." When I heard that, I walked away. Really though? Where? Where the fuck is the limo at? He knows you're lying. So I crossed the street and made my way to the car. By myself. Taking pictures at 4am like a cold, happy tourist (like the pretty pic you see above).  See I'm the type of girl who goes to the club alone and leaves alone (except for my ladies of course). I don't want to go home to or with anyone. It felt good to curl up in my Ralph Lauren duvet. Fabulously Drunk & Free. The girls who go home with guys or go to these after parties are a certain kind of girl. I'm not saying its wrong, I've been to an after -party or two... but you grow out of that eventually --you should at least. My partying started at 15 and ended before I was 21.  I went to my first club at 15 and was there every week. I spent my junior and senior years of high school dancing the night away at house parties (sober) and my sophomore and junior years of college in and out of nightclubs (inebriated). I'm only 22, but believe I've lived a full youth. I didn't miss a thing. At least not any parties. So, I no longer have energy to party all night, drinking and chasing boys. Especially not if the club ends at 4am. I'm taking my ass home. 

      You see, when I go out, it's because I want to go out. I want people to see my outift & I want to see there. The night scene is like a walking magazine. Good or bad. But  when I leave the club, I'm ready to go home. If we're not hitting a breakfast spot, it's cuz I'm hitting the sheets. When we got in the car, we took on the conversation of where to go eat. Bank Girl wanted to go to ol' boy's house. She called him and put him on speaker phone. "Are we gonnna get something to eat?" she asked and of course he responded yes. "I'll cook for you," he said. And that satisfied her. Since I had a weak vote in a car full of friends, we made our way there despite my comments. "He's not gonna have any food for you," I said. "If I have anything to do with it, there's gonna be food there," she responded, "and he's paying for it all." I suggested she just invite him to the diner down the street. If he's gonna pay, he's gonna pay, right? She wasn't having it and we finally showed up at the spot. & guess what? That hole in the wall packed with ugly men standing around smoking cigarettes. Fun. When Bank Girl said "Let's go," I said, "That's what you get." That's what happens when you chase men. You get nothing.  

        Moral of the story is, finding new friends is hard. You think you fit in with a certain type until you find out what that type actually is. And you're always, without doubt, associated with the girls you go out with. They say "birds of a feather fly together," but luckily, the eagle soars alone. I called my mom the next day and told her the story. "You'll find better people," she said. And I'm sure I will, it just sucks I have to go through this trial and fail before I find them...if I find them. This girl was cool and all, but I'm not trying to be no groupie out here messing with promoters to cut a line. Pretending to love myself but throwing myself any which way. Showing skin for a glass of Riesling. Like I said, I have my own money & I'm glad to spend on myself. "You know what I want, Ma?" I asked her, "I want to make enough money to go to the club by myself and buy tables & send the men at other tables drinks." Just cuz I can. As my college friends and I try to settle on a place to go for New Year's Eve, the deal is, we're paying for VIP, cuz I haven't made it but... I just can't fake it.

       I'm reading Jean Paul Satre's Existentialism and Human Emotions right now and he explains that every person defines his or her self by making concious choices. When you make a choice you have to think, "How would the world be if every person acted just like me?" With that thought, you're being then not only affects the outcome of your life, but all of humanity as well because you then live as a human example of what humanity should be. Derived from this, I'm starting think that I have to make the decision regarding the people around me as well. Like... how would my world be if everyone in it were just like this person? This just helps me decide what type of people I should be surrounding myself with.

       And really, I can't get with a lot of people. I've begun to willingly let people go and slide away because they don't add to me and have the tendency to bring me down. You've got to watch the company you keep. & it is better to be in a room alone with yourself than in a room of enemies. You'll never really get to know your enemies, but at least you'll gain a deeper understanding of yourself. (I'll get into that more on my detailing of "The Freakin Weekend Part 3: Sufficient in Solitude".

     And this was only Friday... on Saturday it got worse. Check "The Freakin Weekend Part 2: One Night Stand" for the second day of the Freakin Weekend.  & It all ends on Sunday with "The Freakin Weekend Part 3: Sufficient in Solitude". 

After writing this, I might need to drink to that... yea yeeaaa. =/

The Staring Game (Part 2): Gave My Number to ANOTHER Rapper.

         

      I don't want a boyfriend at the moment. Unless of course he'd like to be part-time as I discussed in my post, "Part-Time Boyfriend Needed: Accepting Applications Now." But the truth is that sometimes, I get lonely, not for physical satisfaction, simply for the presence of someone other than myself. That's when The Staring Game happened.... again.

       I love New York City because entertainment is always at your fingertips.  I was walking to my train as I normally do: A slow strut (like I'm walking to the altar). There are so many people on the street and I'm never really in a rush. So I take long strides dow the city streets and try to see if there are any cute guys. That's not all I look at though, I look at the girls, too! I look at everyone. I had a conversation with my cousin a while ago about New York fashion; there is so much individuality here. Granted, particular types of people have a particular way to dress but there are so many different types of people here that every outfit is interesting (to say the least). People get dressed here and I absolutely love it. So when I'm tromping down Fashion Ave in 6-inch heels, I don't look out of place.  I can look beside me and see girls just like me, walking on their tippy-toes with their heads held high. It's nothing short of fabulous. 

       The Staring Game paid off quickly this time around. My new friend, we'll call him 21 (because he's 21 and works at Forever 21) decided to follow me into Macy's as I shopped for a new mattress. He stood by patiently. I didn't expect him to stay the whole time but he did. & he didn't press up either. He didn't input his opinion. He didn't ask if he could "help break the bed in". He wasn't gross. He talked little. Asked me questions about myself. Held conversation. He was a sweetheart.  When he told me he worked at Forever 21, I started to feel like I usually do about men with no degrees, like I mentioned in my last post. Nothing wrong with his grind, his grind just isn't up to par with mine is all. There's something about him not being able to afford the things I can afford that is a bit of a turn off. But I didn't hold it against him. 

       Truth is, I was bored and I hate having to go back to Jersey. So I always stall any way I can. "We should get something to eat," I said. Eventually we agreed to meet his friends at Burger King, (I know, y'all. I know.) I got myself some fries and settled in for conversation. Thing is, his friends were a cool group in that they were all genuine. I mean that... they allowed me to know them. To sit amongst them as an equal and had conversation with me that was beyond just me. Without trying to get at me. Without any "game". I got to... hang out.  They allowed me to be one of the boys for just a little while as one of them took on the "I'm the realest nigga out there" attitude and explained to me in detail all of the girls he was messing with. After each story he'd ask, "Does that mane me a dog?" "Nope, you're a regular guy," I would tell him. 

      But it happened again, I met another rapper. At the table, I ended up finding out that 21 is also an aspiring Rapper, but unlike the philosopher rapper I met the other day, 21 didn't brag to me about it. He actually didn't mention it, his friends did. They claim he's talented, but maintained that he's humble. I really do have a soft-spot for the aspiring Hip-Hop artist (not particularly the rapper) and 21's taste in music pleased me (his recent listens ranged from J. Cole to Black Eyed Peas). 

    Point of this story is, I fuckin love New York, because it was easy for me to meet this guy and have a genuine care-free night full of interesting conversation. That would never happen in Rhode Island, let me tell ya. My brother-in-law told me I should be roommates with a girl so that I can make friends in the city, but I can make friends on my own -- in a bizarre, maybe dangerous way, but on my own nonetheless. & I'm glad I decided to hang out with this kid and his friends because I feel like I met... people as opposed to having met a guy.  I think this is because when 21 had asked my if I'm involved with someone I said... "Yes, with myself." Additionally, I initially had thought that him & his friends were gay & I like (most) gay men the best out of all the people in the world. Especially the ones who are competition for me when it comes to labels. :) I don't trust many other females & men try to get in your pants too often... gay men are my happy medium. So I continued conversation with him, unaware that he was straight until he made me aware. But I had gone into this looking for friendship & came out on top. Even if nothing comes of this (which it wont) at least I had one good night of entertainment. 

Mission Accomplished. Good fuckin game :) 

Friend Request Pending

       

         On September 24th, I deleted a "friend" from my Facebook account. I also deleted the friend I had met through her and her boyfriend. I did it all during/after writing my post "Things You Shouldn't Say". In reality, we haven't been friends like we once were for almost 2 years now. Yesterday, she sent me a friend request. & It's still sitting there. 

        How do I explain to her why we're not friends anymore? I mean... both figuratively --like Facebook friends-- as well as literally. If it wasn't for this girl... I would have hated college. Granted, I had other college friends who did their fair share in keeping me in school, but this one girl gave me life. The more we hung out together, the more we looked alike, talked alike thought alike. It seemed as though we had our own language. We though the same things were funny. The same shoes were cute. The same outfits were stupid, the same dresses were fly, the same girls were ugly, the same guys were lame, the same drinks were pretty, the same clubs were hot, the same promoters were wack, the same music was bad, the same days were to get fucked up! 

       We were also completely different. I was Peach Martini followed by a Mai Tai, she was an Apple Martini chased with a Cosmo -- until the drinks got taller and the nights got longer and things just weren't the way they used to be. We no longer saw each other. And while this was both our faults, it seemed like there was no effort on her end to mend the loose ends. Unless, she needed some friendship or guidance... that's when she finally came home. Our biggest difference was that I couldn't see how she could go back to a man who disrespected her to such a degree... but to each his own. 

       Even after I held my tongue and made no further comments, secrets were told... well, only mine. My business was laid on the table for all to see --literally-- and I felt betrayed beyond repair. But the mistakes were mine so I decided to ride with what I got and let by-gones be by-gones. Since I still couldn't settle down a time to speak truths... and we were still warming back up to each other... I simply tried to salvage what we had and keep it moving until the time would came when we had to clear the air. But that time never came.

        Every time I saw her, I wanted to talk about it.  About what happened. I wanted to ask the whys and tell her how betrayed I had felt but the topic never came up and our lunches were only so long. So I gave up. I know that she's a great person... but I also saw that the biggest difference between us was. She valued him more than our friendship. I'm not saying this is wrong, but I valued our friendship more than any man. We didn't see eye-to-eye on that one. 

       As I looked at her name sitting in my requests box, I wondered what to do. Do I click 'confirm' and pretend nothing ever happened? Do I talk to her? What do I say? The same small talk bullshit we did for a year? I do care. I wonder what she's doing, how she feels and if things are okay with her. She was my friend (or so I thought). What if she's having a tough time? What if she needs someone to talk to? I would love to be her friend again, but I wonder if I should just let her miss out. 

      Even if we did try again... would I even trust her? She betrayed my trust, even though it wasn't all her fault. Part of me wanted to say "When you break up with him, we can be friends," but that's childish, inconsiderate and plain stupid. Still, it's how I feel. And if she does stay with him forever, I will gladly give  my congratulations... but I could only be a distant friend. Do I even waste my time? Do I pretend to be nice and talk about nothing? I'm tired of talking about nothing with people who don't know me. It's like having half a conversation.  Do I need another friend I have to censor myself with? Is that even a friend? 

       I'm at a point now where I'm trying to decide if I want to have half of a really good friend... or just keep moving as I am. Part of me wants to click confirm and say "WTF". I wish I could tell her everything. I wish we could sit for hours and talk like we used to. Forreal... there was a point where no one knew me better than this girl. And there was no one I trusted more. She was like a sister to me to the point where I really do miss her mom & dad and even the lazy ass cat. 

     We had some great times together. But I wonder are those times over? For good? I just moved to the city and I wish I has a pretty friend to run these city streets with. She'd, honestly, be my first pick. Am I to truly say "fuck her"? I mean, this is a girl who held a tentative spot in my wedding party. Should I take this experience with her to say that she didn't deserve that spot? Or that I didn't hold a spot in hers? Or do I take this friend request as an opportunity to clear the air and find out where we stand and WTF happened? Sometimes... friendship drama is more taxing than any other type of relationship. 

Idk guys, what is Ella to do? 

Gay is the New Black.

     One time, my brother and I didn't speak for almost a month because he said something... anti-gay. I have no idea what he said, I just remember that it upset me and I called him ignorant. Him being 11 years my senior, I couldn't call him anything without getting body slammed. 


     I remember my mom saying something about gay people (don't judge my mommy. She's old-school Dominican and she's changed. Believe me.) and I asked her, "What if people treated me the way you treat gay people? You want people to treat your kids like that? You know some people don't like me because my skin is dark. What if they talk about me the way you talk about gay people?" She had nothing to say. I walked away.  I've always been a very outspoken person, but I was definitely worse as a child. It might have been rude coming from a teenager, but someone had to tell her & I'd rather it be me. 

    The first time I met someone (openly) gay, I was in high-school. It was a boy. But his boyfriend didn't go to our school so it was like a... you're gay but I don't have to watch you be gay. I saw them kiss at a dance once and... honestly, I still don't like what that looks like. lol.  This isn't to say that I wasn't accepting, knowledgable or conscious of the gay community. I just didn't personally know anyone who was outwardly gay. Gay wasn't exactly cool. & I don't think a gay person in my elementary school or middle school would have made it through the year, to be honest. We were ignorant little kids. And even though I saw nothing wrong with it, I was a kid and I did what kids do. If I had to, I'd have been cruel. I remember this one girl I went to middle school with used to poke other girls in the stomach... you know... like guys do? I got fed up when she did it while we were walking to lunch one day and I yelled out "_____________. Stop poking me. I'm not gay!" In front of everyone. She didn't sit at my table for a while after that. lol.

Pause.  You can stop judging.

       I'm delusional and think I'm the next Carrie Bradshaw, I LOVE gay men. Carl is my Stanford Blatch (Yes, bitch. You are MINE.)  While that was a little joke, it remains true (at least for me), that most girls want a gay best friend. Here's why I love Carl. He lives his own life. We don't double date or hook eachother up, but if I met a gay man who might be Carl's type, I'd gladly introduce them. Likewise, if he met a tall, athletic, rich super straight man, I better the first in line. Meanwhile, I don't have to worry about Carl taking my man and I don't want his. Anyways, the gays aren't collectibles. It was pure chance that brought me and Carl together, especially since I didn't like him at first. Luckily, I like him as a person. His good and bad qualities, because we all have them. The search for a gay best friend is what's bizarre. If you don't have one, you don't have one. Hunny, there's one sure thing with the gays, they either like you or they don't.  & They'll let you know it.  

      Maybe you shouldn't have stopped judging me. Notice that I only confirmed my "acceptance"  because I have a gay friend. Sound familiar? lol.

  

     I know that there's no age to figure out your sexuality and that it's different for every person, but I do wonder what the "right" age to expose a child is. (This is looking like another "Perfect Timing" blog.) The questions that run through my head are, are kids being forced to think about these things earlier than they have to? Can exposing a child to the idea of "gay" make them gay? What would I do if my child were gay? As kids start "deciding" earlier and earlier, I start to feel the same way about sexuality as I do about religion: There's no correct path, and you shouldn't go through with confirmation until you're sure and have lived a bit. But then again... I'm not gay. What do I know?

   Another "gay" trend I have a distaste for? Girls kissing girls just to kiss girls.  In high-school, all the girls were gay... or bi.. and then it happened again in college. & Now those girls are straight again. Many knocked up and nursing their babies (for those who don't know, 2 girls cant make a baby. Something else was in there.) Others are just sleeping with everyone. Last year, with a particular person, my only thought was... Are you really Bi or do you just want to sleep with everyone? Because... well. You know. If you're gay, you're gay... Cool with me. But if you just need some extra action, there's another term that suits you a bit better.  More than one, actually.    

   If I were to take part in gay activities, she'd better be one bad bitch. & my liquor had better be strong. Because if I went home to my mother, friends, family, employers... anyone, they'd all first think "Really?" Then, they'd see my girlfriend and say "Can I be gay, too?" That's the reaction I want.

    This post is totally random & have no idea why I got on this topic... wait. I do. All this BS in the news about kids being bullied and then harming themselves and others on account of their choice in sexuality. You know how people wonder if people are gay by choice or by birth? I remember hearing the argument of "Why would anyone choose a life this hard?" and that kind of stuck to me. "Gay" is not new. I'm not saying we have to obligate our 5-year-olds to choose a preference, but as adults, we need to be ready to handle our children's choices and help our children accept the choices of others. When I say gay is the new Black, I mean it in all forms: in terms of discrimination and in the fashion sense. From people being ostracized or pinpointed because of their sexuality. Our society and its bizarre love/hate relationship with the gay community (You know majority gay areas have the best schools, restaurants and show the most economic growth? I'm just sayin').  

       I once had a conversation with two "educated" black men about sexual orientation. They claimed that when gays start getting rights, that's how you know the empire is about to come crashing down, like it did in Greece. Their argument was that if you start giving groups of people rights for things they "can't change", you make too many exceptions to your laws. I looked at both of them and said "then you should be slaves." They went on to tell me that when I get older and wiser, I'll understand their point better. If that's the truth, I never want to grow up.  You can't expect your group to be accepted into society and then deny others the same rights. They can put their Engineering and Math degrees side-by-side and I'll stick to my opinion that they are the two of the most ignorant men I've ever spoken to. 

      My brother didn't have a degree when we had our argument. He also didn't bullshit his way to a moronic conclusion. He was smarter than that. 

     When it comes to homophobia, I pity Black people the most. I guess history books did the right thing in making "Slavery in the US" one 10 page chapter. Seems like most people have forgotten historical oppression and what that can do to a people.  I'm definitely not arguing that the gays have it as bad as Blacks did, but does genocide have to occur before we start fighting for the rights of others? 

So yea... Gay is the new black.