Our Economy is Depressed!

Just when we thought things couldn't get any worse...

I think people in our day and time are fiercely disconnected from and largely oblivious to what's going on around us. Years ago, if the country were in the midst of a war, people would have been protesting it constantly and the nation would be in a state of extreme patriotism. The last time I can remember such an effort was directly after the events of 9/11. Now we still walk around, playing with our Crackberrys, sipping Starbucks, getting drunk, smoking weed, and largely going on with life as if there isn't a "war" going on.

And now, the stocks are rapidly declining, and we are seriously at the brink of another Depression. Because stocks are going down, people are selling like crazy which is only going to make things worse. There's a certain amount of panic spreading through Wall Street.

Let's not forget that while all of this is going on, President Bush is trying to bail just a few companies out by getting a $700 billion bailout plan passed. Yo, Mr. President! How about you spend some of YOUR salary money bailing out companies that are in no way directly related to you? And we are in a huge budget deficit. Bush, you started office with a freakin SURPLUS! That's right! Clinton had us with a surplus! And here you come putting an entire nation into debt. That must suck. And I wonder how it must feel to know you're taking food out of people's mouths to feed already better-than-well-off CEOs at companies when these very CEOs should be punished for their bad management!

Is it just me, or does this really just not make any damn sense?

I feel bad for whoever takes over office after Bush leaves, whether it be Obama or McCain, because they've got a HELL of a cleanup job to do. President Bush sailed in with an easy time. But he left us with shambles of what used to be a great country.

*Flashback*

It was one day early in my 8th grade year (so it was 2002). In my grammar school, we used to start our day with morning announcements and reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. Everyone was supposed to stand, put their hands on their hearts, and face the flag at the front of the room.

I had never really thought about what those words mean. I always just said them because that's what we were supposed to do and it had become a routine part of my day. But one day I said it and actually became aware of what I was saying:

I pledge allegiance, to the flag
of the United States of America
and to the republic*
for which it stands
one nation
under God
indivisible
with liberty, and justice for all.

Lies, lies, all goddamn lies.

Yes, I'm American. But I don't pledge allegiance to a damned flag or a country that can't seem to pledge allegiance to me simply because of the color of my skin. Liberty and justice for all. HA! There isn't liberty and justice for all. Sure, we can say whatever we want, and I reserve the right to talk SHIT about my country if I want because that's in my First Amendment rights, and I have the right to be dissatisfied with the way things are being run.

But I'll believe there's justice for all when we end racial profiling and bans on gay marriage and police brutality. I'll believe there's liberty when I feel like I have the freedom to control where my hard-earned tax money goes.

Until then, why would I say a pledge of allegiance to something I don't agree with?

*Note - It's been so long since I said the pledge of allegiance that when I tried typing it I actually did it wrong and didn't realize until much later that we say "republic", not "country".

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I hate paid advertisements. I used to love them. And now I hate them.

Yesterday I saw the most wonderful invention ever: a flat iron that would turn even the unruliest hair into silky, shiny, beautiful hair. I saw it with my own eyes! The guy even tested this flat iron on a black girl's hair so I KNEW it would work for me. My jaw was dropped through the whole commercial. And when they said you can try it out for only $14.99, I was hooked. I picked up my phone to call.

That's the thing, though. You can only try it for $14.99. I knew there had to be more to this deal.

So I checked it out online. And I found that the flat iron (plus another flat iron for free) could be mine...for three easy payments of $33.99. Yeah. So I'm paying $14.99 to try it and another 101.97 + tax+shipping&handling to keep it. I don't have that much money for a flat iron!

And boy, was I disappointed. I'm a hair product fiend, and I wanted that flat iron more than I've ever wanted any other hair styling product.

Misleading ass paid advertisement. Grrrr.

The Old Me

Believe it or not, my cam-whoring days started way in my sophomore year of high school, back when Tagged was the huge social networking site. These are some of the pictures from my Tagged page that I took years ago:

My super intellectual face

Just finished doing my hair

I look so young!

My favorite picture of all time. It's so mysterious. And yes...that's my real hair =)

One of the only posed pictures I ever took in glasses

I can't wait til my hair gets this length again

It's my Million Dollar Baby look. Wanna box??

Fooling around with the webcam

I wish I knew where those glasses are...those were stunnas for real!

STANROY!!!!

I just realized something rather interesting, and it may be a bit of a contradiction.

I'm listening to Soulja Boy's "Give Me A High Five", chilling in my room, sipping on Gatorade like I don't have a care in the world. And I've come to this realization:

Soulja Boy's lyrics may not be worth SHIT ON A STICK...but that dude is original when it comes to beats. Never mind that a lot of them sound alike. For the sake of argument, we'll say that just adds to his artist trademarkness.

Now, I'm not a Soulja Boy groupie...not at all. I can just appreciate his hype-man-style music. There's only one of his mainstream songs that doesn't get me moving, and that's "Soulja Girl" (I hate that song). I know if I need to get into a crunk mood, I can put on some Soulja Boy and get buck.

Wait, wait. I sense you are not quite following me. So I present to you Exibit A: Give Me A High Five. If you got speakers with bass, turn that shit UP! All the way!! You got a car with a trunk full of kickers? Put this song on a cd, turn the volume up, cruise through the park, and tell me you don't feel like the shit (or just pretend you are if such equipment is not available):



(Warning: this song does NOT sound as good without the bass)

Now I'll tell ya'll who the lyrical genius is: Arab. Yes. That nigga in the background who is always mentioned but you never hear? That dude SNAPS. Don't believe me? Listen (he's the second verse):



I think Arab needs to stop with the name throwing and actually get a track or two of his own instead of being the hype man's hype man. Then again, if he got a track and I just don't know it, please link it up because I want to hear it.

But finally...Soulja Boy is a crazy dude!! He is absolutely hilarious! I don't know if you've heard the "Stanroy" skit. Oh, you haven't? No worries...it's right here...



That bitch gone...that bitch left there! LMAO!!

I'm in a particularly silly mood right now. I don't know if this is some after effect of 2 hours of sleep and a long ass day or the candy bar I just ate or WHAT but I'm f-in HYPE! And I love it! It's so much better than feeling depressed and down in the dumps.

I'm off to find other constructive things to do...which will probably result in the writing of another blog post...we shall see...

The Update

I have hurt myself in the most embarrassing way possible.

So I went to the hospital today, and let me say this: everyone should find a nice suburban community hospital to go to. I swear, that was the most pleasant hospital experience I've ever had. Everyone was nice: the receptionist, the nurse; the ER doctor was nicer than my primary care physician, the ladies who took my x-rays, the EMT guy who put the brace on my knee and subsequently brought me my crutches, the guy who gave me my discharge information sheet, and the receptionists as I was on my way out. It was like a Pleasantville scene.

Basically, I have bursitis, which happens when a small sac of fluid on your knee that cushions the bone and joints becomes inflamed. How did I get this? From walking up and down the stairs.

Yes, that's right. If there were ever more startling testimony that I'm horribly out of shape, it's the fact that I somehow managed to seriously hurt myself walking up and down some damn stairs.

To my defense, I've never lived in a multilevel home before. Sure, my house in Chicago has a basement and a ground floor, but everything I need is on one floor and I rarely have to go into the basement; at least, not nearly as much as I have had to here.

But still. I feel like a fatass without the weight.

Now I have to go to an orthopedic doctor so she can more carefully examine me and I guess perform surgery if necessary (Lord have mercy).

I need a nap lol...it was a long night and a long day...

I wonder if Tylenol has sleep-inducing abilities...

Cop It or Drop It: "LAX"

I copped The Game's LAX cd two days ago, and decided to wait until I'd listened to the whole thing a few times before I offered my opinion.

First, let's just say: The Game snapped. His album features such artists as Ice Cube, Lil Wayne, Ludacris, Ne-Yo, and DMX, to name a few.

My impression of LAX is that it's more laid back overall. This is definitely a riding in the car, windows down, cruising CD. It's got a few songs that make your head bob a little faster, like "Ya Heard" featuring Ludacris.



"LAX Files" is the deep focused song that you listen to when you're in the hoodie mode, and you got your hood and headphones on and you're in your own little world (in case you can't tell, LAX Files is my favorite song on the CD).



The Game takes it old school next with his song "Angel" featuring Common. Not gonna lie, this song really has Common written all over it...when you hear it, you'll understand why...I actually thought it was his song before I found out it was Game. But big ups, because this is a good song.



Another one of my personal favorite songs is "Money". This song just kind of gets stuck in your head because it's got such a great beat. All the beats on this album are good, but "Money"...man...it just stays in your head after you hear it!



All in all, "LAX" is diverse and it's actually a very refreshing break from a lot of hip hop songs coming out right now. This isn't one of those albums where the released singles are the only good songs on the album. This one actually is good all the way through. It's perfect for when you're chillin with the boys, riding in your whip, or just in the zone getting things done.

Final decision: Cop It

Some More Deep Thoughts

I'm sitting here alone, listening to the new Game cd (which I will be reviewing soon) and reflecting on my week, and I just have to share some deep shit I learned.

There's something powerful about a parent's love, that unconditional love.
But there's something even more powerful when someone who isn't your parent loves you and treats you as if you are their own offspring.
That type of love, when realized, is powerful enough to break even the strongest person down in tears.
It sure breaks me down every time I think about it.
Sure, I have a mother and a father, though I have no idea where my dad is.
My mom - well, she does her best, and I love her for it. She's always willing to help when she can...but sometimes she just can't.
So I have learned over the years to turn to my aunt and my uncle for guidance, advice, and help.
My aunt was the first person to know when I got my period, the first to know when I lost my virginity, the only person I listened to when it came to learning how to take care of myself.
My uncle helps me achieve my business goals, took me to the streets to learn to defend myself, exposed me to a world I would have never seen.
I am their first niece...and first child.
They were at almost every piano recital, competition, or concert.
Neither of my real parents ever saw one.
Psshh...my dad probably doesn't even know I play piano.
They were at every play I was ever in.
My parents never got to see those either.
And I'm sure there's reasons my mom and dad couldn't make it.
I don't hold it against them anymore.

I had a moment.
A moment that made me just sit there and cry.
You guys know about my knee...
I went home with that bad knee, and went back to school with that bad knee
and when I talked to my aunt and uncle, they said I had to go to the hospital.
So I called my mom, because I don't want to go alone.
I'm scared.
She tells me she doesn't have the money to come get me
and that the car doesn't work...
basically, she asks me if I can find someone else who can take me.
I wanted her to understand that at a time like this
it isn't about just being able to get to the hospital...
I could find a ride, or catch the bus.
It's about the fear behind being at a hospital and being told some horrible news
and about the little girl in me just wanting her mommy to be there
...

the next day, I told my uncle my mom couldn't get me.
Without hesitation he told me that he'd fly in and come get me this weekend.
Imagine that.
This man works in Alabama, and only gets to see his wife and children on weekends.
Not even every weekend, at that.
He's always on the road, always busy, always traveling.
TODAY IS HE AND HIS WIFE'S 14 YEAR ANNIVERSARY!!
And yet with all of that,
he still made no excuses
all he said was
"sounds like you need your uncle"
and told me he'd be on his way as soon as he could.
Honestly, if that isn't unconditional, I don't know what is.
I honestly don't know where I'd be without my aunt and uncle.

Commercials...

So I'm sitting here watching the Sox-Twins tiebreaker game (Go Jim Thome for the only home run, and score, of the game), and of course, they break away from the game every so often to give us a nice little commercial break.

I have to say this now:

IF I HAVE TO SEE ONE MORE VIAGRA COMMERCIAL I'M GOING TO GO CRAZY.

It's the same general idea: this old guy comes waltzing out to his slightly aging wife in some ridiculously happy mood, and he starts dancing with her, and then he carries her off to the bedroom wonderland. All the while some old voice-over guy talks about what a joy it is to have erectile dysfunction because now you can take Viagra, and you can live your old life, and please go to the doctor if your erection lasts for more than four hours, and all the while the most annoying "Viva Viagra" song is playing in the background.

First. Nobody waltzes when they're about to hit the sack.
Second. They rarely dance. Dancing takes too much energy and too much time, unless it's one of those nights. But do not believe that every dose of Viagra will give you one of those nights.
Third. ED isn't cool, no matter how many drugs you can take for it. I'm sure it's still embarrassing.
Fourth: Last I checked, a four hour erection was my idea of heaven... *smirk*

And on that fourth note...I'm off to finish the game...

Whoa

I just made a pretty earth shattering decision.

As you know, I'm a poor college student so I'm always looking for legit ways of making a little extra money without having to start pole dancing on the Vegas strip.

According to my uncle, though, my family wouldn't be surprised if I ended up taking that road anyway. He thinks I already have serious thoughts about it. And I'm not gonna lie, it's appealing. I'm only doing it to get through college, after all...

Back to the issue at hand. I registered this blog for Pay Per Post a few days ago, thoroughly expecting to be rejected because of my questionable url and lack of recognizable page rank. Imagine my surprise and joy when I opened my email this morning and found I'd been approved! (Apparently I now have a page rank of 2. We're moving on up!)

So then, I logged in to see the opportunities. And I found one, and I clicked on it, and I got fully ready to write the post about it.

Then, something stopped me.

I got too much love for this blog to put advertisements on it. Not that advertisements are a bad thing, and I've seen many successful blogs with ads on them. But this one just isn't the one for it.

This is where ya'll can come and read about stuff happening in the news, or what's going on in my life, or basically any random things that come into my head as the day progresses. I don't want you wasting your time skimming through paid posts here. As much as I need the money, it's not worth me losing the very essence of real that keeps this blog together.

Can't believe I just traded money for integrity, but I swear to God, it's an amazing feeling.

Besides, this is exactly what I created a whole new blog for. I wanted a new blog so that I could write paid posts and not feel so bad about it. I wanted a new blog so I could put Adsense and everything. My new blog is going to be my moneymaker.

It's nice to know that my blog can make me money. But no amount of money can ever equal the friends, support, humor, wisdom, and just plain fun I've gotten from this.

Thanks for the good times, ya'll. I look forward to many, many more.

Ahhh, Knee...

Stop what you're doing. Take a moment to look at your knees. Talk to them. Thank them for always being there for you, for making your leg bend and for taking all the stress you inflict on them day after day. Should you have the flexibility, kiss them. I mean it. Do it! Do it now before your knees organize a revolt against the rest of your body!

You never realize what you've got until its gone. Or until it's screaming in pain. Whichever comes first.

For somewhere between 2 to 3 weeks I've been having some pretty debilitating knee pain. I honestly don't know what happened to it; I woke up one morning and it was hurting. At first it was just some mild discomfort. But I've been limping around for almost 2 weeks now. At one point my knee hurt so bad I couldn't walk half a block without terminating whatever mission I was on.

Now, if I have my knee bent and I straighten it, it hurts. If I have it straight and i bend it, it hurts. I limp up and down the stairs (which is bad, because my bedroom is upstairs and food is downstairs. Go figure).

Saturday I was walking around without my brace on, and I was doing okay until I stepped off a step and felt something in my knee rip. It was absolutely excruciating.

I have a support brace that I wear, but I haven't decided if the tense inability to bend my knee is worth the ripping feeling I have when I don't wear it. I've popped Ibuprofen like no other but it doesn't do anything.

Guess it's time for a trip to the doctor, huh?

Only problem is, I don't have insurance. Yeah, sucks to be me right now.

Apparently my hypothesis that "it'll just go away in a few days" was wrong. I'm not gonna lie, I'm afraid to go to the ER. I HATE the ER. My aunt wants me to go to Cook County Hospital...and anyone who lives in Chicago knows that Cook County is where you go TO DIE. I don't want to go in with knee pain and come out with a brain tumor. But I refuse to go to Northwestern Memorial either, because last time I was there they charged me $500 to tell me I was perfectly fine.

*Quick background: I have asthma, and I was having a little trouble breathing so I took my inhaler. I didn't realize it had expired two years ago when I took it, though. My heart started racing, I couldn't breathe, my skin got clammy, I started shaking all over, I could barely walk, and I thought I was going to pass out. My aunt rushed me to Northwestern Memorial, where I sat in the emergency room for at least 2 hours thinking I was about to die. I mean, I seriously thought my life was over. After waiting for so long, they finally told me "oh, you're fine" and sent me on my way with a $500 doctor bill. Assholes.

Well, we'll see just how this turns out...

For Those Who Like Fooball Week 2

I've been slacking on my football coverage for the past few weeks, not for a lack of watching it but for a lack of motivation in talking about it.

Last night was the Bears game against the Eagles, and boy, was that a good game.

A little over a minute into the first quarter, the Bears had not only sacked Donovan McNabb but had scored a touchdown. It was looking beautiful already.

It wasn't the offense that made the stars of the team yesterday, though: it was the Bears defense. I swear, our defense was ON POINT. Picture it: fourth quarter, a little over three minutes left on the clock. The score is 24-20 in favor of the Bears, Eagles have possession of the ball, and it's like 2nd and goal just under a yard from the goal line. Yep, that close. If the Eagles get this touchdown, they would take the lead for the first time in this game.

First attempt: the Bears defense carries the guy back a yard or two. Second attempt: they make it back to around a yard away from the goal line.

This is it: fourth and goal. Donovan McNabb hands the ball off to Correll Buckhalter. He runs...BAM! Alex Brown is first to hit him and knocks him just short of a touchdown. Eagles lose the game, 24-20.

Man. I've never seen such a beautiful effort on a defense play in my life. A job needed to be done, and the Bears stepped up to the challenge and accomplished it!!

Go Bears!

Pull Yer Pants Up!!

Ahh, the triviality of the United States today.

At the risk of sounding cliche, I'd like to point out before I begin that there are many things wrong with the United States today: a failing economy, $700 billion dollar bailout plans, a war that nobody seems to remember is going on, an ever-increasing cost of living, high unemployment, and poverty, to name a few.

So imagine, and please try to understand my disbelief that not only is a city in Southern California attempting to ban saggy pants, but that such an occurrence is top news.

Apparently, seeing exposed underwear or skin classifies as "indecent exposure".

C'mon, Cali. Really?

Let's be fair (because, of course, justice systems are supposed to be fair). Just how much is "indecent exposure"? Some women don't even sag their pants and yet you can still see their thongs or even granny panties when they bend over. So what's the difference?

You mean to tell me that police officers are going to turn into actual "fashion police", throwing people in jail just because you can see their underwear??

The press leaked a picture of Britney Spears without underwear and she's not in jail! And that's just nasty, in my opinion!

What next? Soon this little California city will start banning low cut shirts and midriff baring tops.

America is the only place where the top news story involves whether or not the government should let you decide to show your underwear off in public.

The Dangers Of Alcohol

I'm here today to share a very important public service announcement with you all:

Alcohol is bad, mmmkayy...

It's not bad for you, when taken in moderation. It can be a fun group activity. But when alcohol is consumed in the wrong state of mind, things can go very wrong.

Unfortunately, it seems that the very situations in which one wants to consume alcohol are the best times to avoid it. For example, when one gets mad, they may feel like they should drink to help them feel better. But alcohol is never a solution to your problems, and in fact it can escalate them.

So why he let me drink knowing I was already mad at him, I don't know. But he did. And boy, was that a mistake.

See, I'm a competitively jealous girl, meaning that if I get jealous about something it's only because I feel in competition with it. And I constantly feel like I'm competing with the other girls of the world for my boyfriend. I don't know why, but I do. And so when something (or some other girl) comes up, my aggression flares and I get super competitive, and thus super angry.

I won't go into the nitty gritty of what happened, but let's just say if it were reversed and he saw what I saw, we wouldn't be a couple right now.

Unfortunately, I had to let the anger stockpile inside because we were in mixed company and I didn't want to go all angry ghetto black girl on him in front of his boys. I'm too respectful for that. But I made sure he knew I was mad. I had crossed arms and I'm sure my face showed some anger. Big Bro knew I was mad, because he looked at me, looked at Amardo, then looked back at me with a look that I can barely even describe. It was like he knew Amardo was in ass whoopin territory and that I was only holding back because everyone was there.

To Amardo's credit, he knew I was mad too and so made every effort to make me happy last night. The sad thing is, all he knew to do to make me happy was to take me out and have fun (since I've been trying to go out), and to buy me a bottle so that I'd enjoy myself a little more.

Cue shot number 1.

Now, I had just eaten so this wasn't enough to get me crazy, but I felt just a little looser than I had previously and that's when we went out.

Cue mixed drinks 1, 2 and 3.

That's when problems arose. We were at the Ohdee house and there were a bunch of people there chilling and suddenly there was no one there. This was enough to make my influenced body want to go home. For the first time all night since the occurrence, me and my boyfriend were alone together. So, like any irrational human being would do (because I was pretty far under the influence at this point), I yelled at him for what he did. Then when he said he was going to go home, I yelled at him for trying to leave me when I was right. And I yelled at him for not understanding just how right I was in this argument. I tell you, when I bitch, I bitch hard.

Now cue the tears. At this point I wasn't even angry any more. As I tend to do, I started to take what happened personally as an attack to my character. Maybe I'm not the girlfriend I think I am, I thought as I ended up in his arms sobbing. I told him about how I feel like I'm always competing with someone.

We ended up going to a friends house a few doors down, and I had a good time until some other girl randomly grabbed his beard. If I had been anywhere near as influenced as I was earlier, I would have jumped off the bar stool and punched her in the face. Instead, he knew how mad I was (again, I didn't want to even look at him), so he told me we should go home. And we did.

I'd love to stay and chat a little longer, but I've gotta get dressed so I can be the supportive girlfriend. See? I'm not completely happy with him and I'm STILL out here looking out for him.

Ahhhh....

Lorem Ipsum

So I just started my new blog, Cellularly Extraordinary.

It's focused on -what else?- cell phones, latest cellular technologies, and my own articles about cell phone use, cellular news as related to health, service provider reviews, and the whole nine.

Why cell phones? Because I'm addicted to them. Seriously. If I knew half as much about business as I do about upcoming cell phones I'd own my own Fortune 500 company by now.

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You know what really grinds my gears? Lorem ipsum. Yes, that incorrigible sample print that you see everywhere on test design pages, whether online or in Microsoft Publisher. I hate those words, mainly because I don't know what they mean, and I'm real touchy about things like that.

So, like any normal research nut like me would do, I looked it up on Wikipedia because we all know Wikipedia is second to Google on the whole knowledge scale. And what I found was both relieving and a little disappointing at the same time.

Lorem ipsum in itself doesn't mean anything at all!

But I was right in my thought that it was Latin...it is. They quoted an entire passage by some guy and bolded the words that are used in lorem ipsum example texts. According to the articles, many words were cut in half or deleted out. Why they wouldn't just leave the entire passage as is remains a mystery to me.

And the passage is something about pain. You can read the Wikipedia entry here.

Well, I'm off to begin my very first post on my new blog, even though it's 1:45 in the morning and I really should just be sleep. Who knows, I might fall asleep while typing it (believe it or not, I've typed in my sleep before. I actually made words too...they just didn't make any sense when I woke up). But I'm going to try.

See ya later...

Oh, The Horror!!

Sadness has set upon me.

I was so ready to go out earlier. I did my hair, got my outfit ready, and everything. And I mean I tried on a bunch of different outfits, had one ready, and it wasn't until I showered that I thought of a better outfit to wear. I pulled my jewelry and accessories out, figured out how I was going to do my hair, and even decided what purse to carry. My shoes are laid out (both pairs, heels and flats). I even started making the necessary connections and budget allocations for the night.

Ah, but there is nothing to do tonight.

Thursdays, you have failed me two weeks in a row. It's not looking good, Thursday. It's not looking good at all.

Tomorrow, my bomb diggedy fun day is starting early, dammit. Forget about this whole business of waiting until night time to get ready. I'm waking up, taking care of a little school business, and getting decked out! Nothing's stopping me from having the time of my life tomorrow. ALL DAY!! I refuse to be held down by the constraints of having nothing to do!

Yeah, yeah, that's what I said earlier, and we see where THAT got me: sitting in front of this computer about to get fat eating random food items that aren't made to go together.

*Sigh*

You just wait, Tomorrow. It's about to be ON!!!

It's Thursday Night, and the Feeling's Right!

Stuntin is a habit, get like me...

I've been waiting all week for this day. Today is the day I get to show out. I get to bare it all for no reason other than because today is Thursday, and it's a sacred day for me.

Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays are always quiet days because everyone is in class doing homework or recovering from weekends filled with drunken debauchery. But when Thursday night comes, all hangovers, ailments, financial problems, and imminent tests are pushed to the back burner or completely forgotten as people invade liquor stores and spend hours getting dressed to go to the same place they go every week with the same people. On Thursday nights sound systems are cranked, clothes are thrown all over the place, and jewelry boxes are raided. Texts fly back and forth as friends compare notes on what parties are being thrown, who's wearing what, and whose house everyone is meeting up at.

I've had "party" in my system for two weeks now, and it's an urging that just hasn't gone away. I'm normally a solitary human being, preferring to stay locked up in my room rather than out partying every night of the week. But when I get a hankering for a good party, I crave it and I actually get rather restless until I can satisfy that craving.

I don't quite know what my plans are for tonight yet, which is perfectly normal for a Thursday afternoon. I do know that I've got some room cleaning to do, and some blog starting, and some other mundane and useless events until I feel like it's a good time to start getting ready to go out to do whatever it is I go out and do tonight.

Until later (because you know I'll probably be blogging my ass off for the next few hours), deuces.

Starting Fresh

Remember Homestead?

If you're not sure what I'm talking about, Homestead is a hosting site that used to allow you to make your own domain...for free!

Then again, I was still in grammar school when it was free, so this had to be around 10 years ago or so. My computer teacher (in one of his very few teaching attempts the whole 8 years I had him as a teacher) showed us how to make our own domains and create websites using html. Can you believe that when I was in like 5th or 6th grade I knew how to do html rather proficiently? What a shame I can't still do it as well now...

Homestead was popular in the time before social networking sites were popular, when a person would get in much more trouble trying to play solitaire or Collapse (throwback!) at work versus getting in trouble for trying to access Facebook or Myspace.

Why was I looking at Homestead, you might ask? It's because I need a domain.

That's right. I'm starting a new blog.

See, the Joker said, "If you're good at something, never do it for free." I blog constantly now, and it's about time I started getting paid to do it. Unfortunately, my PR is under the rocks right now and my url leaves a little to be desired. To my defense, I didn't expect my blog to evolve the way it has now. Believe it or not, I actually started blogging in February, and this was more of a personal diary that no one read. But in June I started going more public and appealing to a different audience.

It would take way too much work to try to get this one suited up for monetization. Plus, I wouldn't have any place to rant and rave and post pictures of myself anymore (and we all know how I love to do that). So I'm just going to start a new one. I'm going to purchase my own domain and everything (in time...I'm a poor college student, and there are other things I have to invest my money in first, like groceries and rent and bills).

Of course, I'll be linking to it once it's up and running. I thought maybe I'd have it up by today but I got too lazy so I'll work on it tomorrow.

Look for more info as events develop.

When I Grow Up...

There's a difference between what you want to do when you grow up and what your skill set destines you to be when you grow up.

Case in point: I wanted to go into forensics when I was in high school. I was big on that type of stuff, and so immersed myself in the business of dead people. I took an anatomy/physiology class in my junior year, joined the Pre-med club, and went on a field trip to a cadaver lab at nearby UIC.

But the pre-med club was nothing but a cover for some hippie like club that promoted peace and tofu. And I don't even like tofu. I couldn't be associated with that club. Anatomy/physiology was a great class when we were dissecting things and going over what I already knew. But me and nomenclature and memorization of nomenclature don't get along well, so me and anatomy ended up not getting along well either. That and halfway through the semester the teacher just stopped caring. The only thing remotely intriguing was my trip to the cadaver lab, but the stench was just horrendous. It literally smells so bad that the air is thick. Plus there's something a little unsettling about touching someone's blackened lung and realizing that it was inside someone's body at one time. Yeecchh.

Thank goodness I realized early on that forensics just wasn't the class for me. I discovered business in my senior year of high school and it's been lucky enough to last for two years (plus it's my major in college) so I think Business should take a bow. Law should also get some credit because I intend on going for my dual MBA and JD at the same time. Whew...

But today I realized that I may have a higher calling. I spend so much of my time doing it now that I might as well get paid for it.

And no, I'm not talking about blogging (though that's an idea, too).

I'm talking about hacking.

Before you go crazy and think I'm the mastermind that hacks into school computer systems, let me tell you I'm a novice at this hacking thing. And i don't mean hacking as in accessing someone's personal information and displaying their Superman underoos on Youtube. I mean hacking as in getting around roadblocks that people like to set for innocent everyday people like me who just want to put ringtones and backgrounds on their Sidekick, or who want to put super cool things on their blog even though Blogger won't quite allow you to do it.

I can find my way around almost anything, except for this Sidekick ringtone block (then again, real hackers have been trying to get ringtones for years without any success, so I can't expect that I'd be able to get something after only a month of trying).

But I spend so much time looking it up and downloading all sorts of programs that I don't know how to use (I downloaded Audacity yesterday and I still don't know what it's for) that I might as well do this as a 9-5 job.

Writing about this has inspired me to refine my search to see if I can break into my Sidekick. It's my phone, and I'll screw around with the programming if I want....

No, I won't. I'll just hope some other poor shmuck throws their phone out of whack and writes about it so I don't make the same mistake.

Until next time...deuces...

Stylin'

I got all dressed up last night to go out (see picture to the left). I was pretty ready for a night on the town.

But nothing seemed to go right. We couldn't get into the parties we wanted to go to, and the parties we could have gotten into were wack and not worth the time.

So I got dressed like this <----- to order 3 medium pizzas with my boyfriend and big bro and watch movies. And yes, I did eat an entire medium pizza by myself, which may not seem like much of an accomplishment but when you're 5'4" and you weigh 120 on a heavy day, a medium pizza is pretty damn huge.

Was I disappointed in my night? Slightly, if only because I got so dressed up to go out and simply ended up eating pizza and lounging in front of the tv...it's one of those things where you think "Damn, I could have stayed in basketball shorts and a tank for this!"

Then again, I like dressing up nice. Sometimes Amardo thinks I overdo it; but when you grow up wearing lacy dresses on a field trip to the zoo, nothing is too overdone (and yes, I have photographic proof somewhere of me in this cotillion-style dress in front of a giraffe). I'm the kind of girl who would wear heels every single day if my feet permitted it. And dressing up makes me feel more confident, more ready to conquer the world. Plus, I want to have a reputation for always dressing nicely.

I don't have a distinct style, either. I just like to match. That's how my outfit comes together: does this shirt match these pants? Do I have shoes to match? If not, I need to find what shoes come close and accessorize so they do match.

What's your style?

A "Dream" Come True

You know how you have an Aha!!! moment but you don't get it until like 3 months after you should?

I called T-Mobile once to verify something with my plan (or my minutes or something, I've called T-Mobile so many times I don't even remember what I call for anymore). The customer service lady was very polite, as they always are, and, as I am apt to do, we struck up a conversation about cell phones. We talked about my Sidekick, and she told me about her phone (I think she had a wing). And then, in a hushed voice, she said "I'm not supposed to tell you about this, but we're coming out with a phone that developers say will be the next top iPhone competitor."

I felt like Christmas had come in July.

She couldn't tell me any more about it, which was a little saddening, but just knowing that I knew a secret that would soon sweep the nation was enough to lift my spirits. As T-Mobile started releasing new phones, I would look at them saying "Is this it? Is this is?" with all the annoyance of a child screaming "Are we there yet" in the backseat of a car.

And now, completely out of coincidence, I stumbled upon the find of the century.

I was looking on Google for information about dreams because that's what I was originally going to blog about. I've been having some interesting dreams lately, and I've been remembering them, which is two strikes on the dream record.

There it was, number 3 on the google page: a news article about the new Dream, a cell phone made as a collabo between T-Mobile, HTC, and...that's right...Google.

*Shaky, adoring exhale*

The phone features a new Google Android-based platform which has been greatly talked about in cell phone circles. and it features a slide or swivel screen that reveals a QWERTY keyboard.

You mean to tell me that for $200 I can get a touchscreen smartphone Sidekick?? Ohhh, I'm in love.

There are leaked photos here of the phone, but I'll wait until October (when the phone is being released) to share actual photos of it.

T-Mobile, you are really on to something now. And the service isn't bad, and the customer service is so good you want to call just to have a conversation with a rep...and with it's lower prices, people may actually be flocking to switch from AT&T to T-Mobile (I know I made the switch, and I regret not making it sooner).

Look for more info as events warrant.

All That Work...For This?

Just when I thought things may finally be looking up for me, this happens.

It wasn't enough that I had to leave the school of my choice for this. It wasn't enough that I had to settle for online classes for this. It wasn't enough that I waited for three weeks while everyone else was in school to start.

Now, the day before I'm supposed to start, hours before I'm supposed to start, suddenly I get a slew of documents from financial aid. Apparently, I'm too poor to get any money from them without them picking me apart for clues like some CSI forensic pathologist.

And in case you thought you read wrong, let me repeat it: I'm too poor to get government aid.

I was raised in an interesting living situation. My dad skipped out when I was 5...my mom can't keep a job so she's been unemployed most of my life. But I have something called family, people who have been there for me through thick and thin, people who stepped up to the plate and helped me.

And now, you're telling me that because of what I've already been through, I can't be at school??

ALL I WANTED WAS A GOD-FUCKING-DAMN EDUCATION so that I don't end up like the people I grew up around: 40, 50 year old people living with their parents with no jobs, coming around begging 19 year olds for money, with no futures ahead of them because -guess what -they're already living their future. People with bad credit or no credit and no way to give any advice on having credit.

I'm supposed to be signing into my account at 12:00 am SHARP because that is when the semester starts. I'm supposed to be getting my syllabuses, doing readings for my class at 11 tomorrow morning, and making sure the chapter that I already read and took notes on in Accounting is the right chapter. Instead here I am sitting in front of my computer, with red eyes and a tear stained face and puffy lips, wondering what in the HELL i did before that made me go through this.

For once, I did everything right. For once, things were supposed to work in my favor. They wanted papers, I printed them and faxed them, no matter how much trouble it may have been to do so. They wanted forms filled out, I filled them out. I signed promissory notes. What the fuck more do you want from me??

I went to an online seminar today. It was about blogging your way to success, and I couldn't stop commenting on how cool it was to be sitting in front of my computer but feel like I was at the actual seminar, except I couldn't see the presenter himself. They had a powerpoint presentation showing, and he spoke along with it, and there was a chat window so we could ask questions, and they would stop and answer relevant questions, and it was just amazing, and it made me even more excited to start because one of my classes will be set up the exact same way.

I just can't believe this right now. I can't even wrap my head around the thought that this is happening to me. I don't need this kind of constant stress in my life, and I can't believe that the government would act like this to the very person they should be trying to help.

It feels like I just ran face first into a brick wall; my heart actually hurts. I can't believe that I did everything I was supposed to and still got fucked over.

I can't even write anymore right now yall...it's just too damn upsetting...

My Thoughts For The Day

Has anybody else noticed the huge wave of "Facebook is Getting a Facelift" article headlines going around recently? I did...and I find it hilarious yet humbling.

I thought I was the cat's bananas when I came up with that headline for a post of my own on August 26th (and for the record, I came up with that without any help at all!). Now that I see this onslaught of clever headlines, it means one of two things for me:

1.) My idea wasn't nearly as impressive or clever as I had originally thought, or
2.) My idea was as impressive and/or clever as I had originally thought, and newspaper and magazine writers stole my headline for their own personal career advances.

Now, I did a search and saw that there were people who had used the headline before me, so that leaves me with my original guess that I was not being as clever as I would have liked to give credit for.

It took all of a few months for "Facebook Gets A Facelift" to become old and cliche.

--------

Has someone ever asked you a question and when you give them the answer, they offer you a horribly stereotypical generalization that makes you feel like shit even if it just may apply?

I get asked a lot if I'm mixed with anything. The correct answer is not directly, but there is a lot of Native American in my blood.

If I say that to someone, they go, "Oh, all black people have Native American in their blood. You're not any different."

That's soooo irritating.

Sure, lots of black people say they have Native American in their blood, and it's true: stereotypically, you don't find a lot of black people without some mix in their family tree. So I'll just say this: take a look at my complexion, take a look at my hair, and take a look at my mom, and tell me there isn't more than just a smidgen of Native American in me.

The second thing is what I hear from adults when I tell them I was born in Germany. The first thing out of their mouths is: "Oh, were your parents in the military?"

Because, of course, black people only belong in Germany when they or their parents are in the military.

Yes, my father was in the military. No, I was not born on a military base, which is why I have both a German and American birth certificate. And while there may not be many pigmented people in Germany, I don't need you to point it out for me, thank you very much.

--------

I have a pressing question that I've been trying to answer ever since I first saw it on standardized tests and college applications: a question that as of yet has eluded any student, relative, or teacher who has ever tried to answer it for me.

You know how on certain things they ask for your race and/or ethnicity?

I know that because both of my parents are African-American, that's what I put for race, no questions asked. It's the ethnicity part that I'm not so sure about.

On the one hand, I guess I should put African American because that's what's in my blood. But I was born in Germany, and until I was 18, if I understand citizenship rules correctly, I was both a citizen of Germany and of the United States. So does that make me German American?

And while we're at it, why can't I just be "American"?

Scenes From The Field Museum

I finally uploaded the pictures from my camera to my computer and ran across these photos from the Field Museum in Chicago. Though the Field Museum doesn't rank very high on my Museum-O-Meter, it was loads of fun...and you'll see why...

I was waddling like a penguin...don't judge me!!

I think that's the Mayan calendar. I'm probably wrong. I just know it's huge.

What the mummy process looks like...

This was a tiny clay diorama the size of a shoebox

Amardo WOULD do this on camera...

It was a hallway of mirrors. Looked funny but the pic is cute

He was winning that war too, with his Sierra Mist bottle

Shhh...they're talking deep shit...like politics...

Yeah, we were playing with tigers. We could have died but it's okay

Look at that!! Amardo knows how to braid black hair!! That kid don't look pleased...

Chillin

A special Happy Birthday wish goes out to Amardo...it's his 22nd birthday today!! Love ya babe!!

Cam-Whoring Part 2

I was bored. And I'm trying out a new hairstyle that I haven't tried before. And my camera was RIGHT THERE.

I don't think I need to say anymore =P. I present to you: Round 2 of What Demiera Really Does When She Should Be Productive...

Leave it to me to try to punk out the camera...What you want!!??

Look at how curly my hair is! It don't even look right

My hairstyle from the side. You can still see the curls

Yes I'm bright. Yes I look pregnant. I don't care. I like the facial expression

My favorite. Looks like I fell on the floor but I don't care

Smile!!

And there you have it. And now that I've gotten the week's cam-whoring out of my system, I'm off to find something more intellectual to write about...

The New Mantra

Not a single salty tear
Not a feeling in my chest
Baby I'm feeling no stress
I'm too fly to be depressed...

What a timely quote!!

For months I've been battling this semi-depressive state. It's done quite a number to me, affecting my eating and sleeping habits, and forcing me to cry constantly, and all the other physical and emotional implications of depressive tendencies.

Today, I was writing a post for Blogger alone in my room and I felt myself start to get upset. The more I wrote, the more upset I got, and the more justified I felt for being so upset. Then of course, the tears came up, all eager that I was feeling so upset and wanting to leave their mark on the situation.

I took a shower and there decided that I was going to let my troubles and sadness slide off me just like the water was. By the time I was done, I was pumped. And right after I finished getting dressed, the song "Go On Girl" by Ne-yo came on. I was instantly a bit nostalgic because I listened to that song last year whenever I needed a little self-motivation, if only for those four lines you see above.

I spent over 2 hours searching for loans online, and I wasn't very successful. I wanted to cry, because a loan is my only chance at getting back into school. I felt so sad I wanted to ball up and go to sleep (yes, that's how bad it made me feel. I'm telling you, I'm in a bad state). But I had to remember that I'm too fly to be depressed. I can't be letting all these little things get to me in such a big way. And I felt better.

So a thank you goes out to Ne-yo for being the source of my new mantra. Hopefully I can continue to remember this every time I want to let something bring down my mood or cause me to cry...and maybe you can try it too...

Because we're all too fly to be depressed...

Crackberry's Making Progress!

You've got to be kidding me.

Blackberry is releasing a new phone: the Blackberry Pearl Flip.

Yes, you read right: Blackberry is making a flip phone.



I'm pretty damn excited and I don't even like Blackberry!

It said this will be released in the fall to...I don't think you're ready for this...T-MOBILE!!! YESSS!!!

Not that I'll be buying this phone...it's just rather exciting that T-Mobile picked up on the first ever flip PDA. It'll be good publicity for Blackberry and T-Mobile.

I'll be looking out for more information, which I of course will share with all of you.

Thank Goodness We're Not Dead

Apparently, scientists from over 60 nations have come together to create some large particle collider that they started up today.

I'd like to note that Quick Takes in the Chicago Sun Times has been talking about this occurrence for over a month. That's just Quick Takes though (really good article...you should read it sometime).

People have been running scared for the past few days in anticipation that high energy protons would create a huge black hole that would swallow the Earth and (duh) lead to our sudden demise.

I'm not gonna lie, I was a little nervous. I mean, I don't want to die because some scientists decide they want to mess around with subatomic particles. I'm sure there are people who think this is a super cool way to die. I just don't see the justification of dying in a super cool way if nobody's going to survive to write about it in a history book...there won't even be a history book to write it in!

But stuff like this doesn't bother me as much anymore, because these are only the reported scientific occurrences. And I love how none of the major news outlets bothered to tell the general public that we might die tomorrow, but today columnists are smugly writing things like "the fact you're reading this means we didn't get sucked into a black hole and disappear from the universe" and other cocky things. Just kind of makes you wonder what other things are being done in the name of science that could potentially kill us.

And honestly, given the crime rate in Chicago and the growing number of young adults being killed everyday for no reason and girls getting raped on college campuses and the dangers of alcohol poisoning and obviously the ever-present terrorist threat from a nation we're still fighting for no reason, there isn't much room on my Worry Meter for large hardon particle colliders that create black holes. Sorry.

Givin' Her Somethin She Can Feel Pt. 2

It's time for my new song list for the week. I've done this once before, and I liked my list a lot :)

1. If You - Silk

I don't want to even think of how many children were conceived (or nearly conceived) to this song. You can't deny that Silk was one HELL of a group, and this is one hell of a song. Let's just be blunt...this is one of those "get your girl in the mood" songs (especially if the girl in question is anything like me). Enough of this talking...just listen to it...


I love it when you're feelin like lovin me huggin me sexin me kissin me squeezin me...

2. So Anxious - Ginuwine

Smooth, sensual beat. Provocative lyrics. And it's Ginuwine. C'mon. When I hear this song I want to dance and move.This is another one of those songs that has probably gotten a lot of people in trouble. And I absolutely love the piano part in the very beginning (I learned how to play it!). What a great song to set the mood. And I couldn't get the original, but you should definitely hit up Youtube and watch the original video because it's HOT!


Meet me at 11:30...I love it when you're talking dirty...

3. Naked - Marques Houston

Steeeeaaammmyyy. Who knew he would grow from being annoying Roger on "Sister, Sister" to this fine man we've got here? Goodness gracious. I dare any of you to tell me this video isn't hot. In fact, I had another video here, but I watched this video and just had to post it.


Ain't never been a man want anything much as I want you...

4. Say It - Ne-yo

Sigh. This actually is a relatively new song (I think it came out last year) but it reminds me of the older songs. It's actually very soulful. Light the candles, play this song, and well...you know what'll happen next. I think he should have made a video for this song, but that's just my opinion.


Tell me what you want, and I got it baby...

Well, these are the songs for the week. Enjoy!

For Those Who Like Fooball Week 1

And so begins Week One of Demiera's Fulfillment of Her Weekly Requirement of Football News Given She Will Be Watching It Whenever It's On, Seeing As She Likes Football But She Doesn't Live And Breathe It But Her Boyfriend Does And He Ultimately Controls the Remote...

I'm sure you've heard about it somewhere...it's been all over the media for the past few days.

That's right folks...Tom Brady injured his left knee, putting him on injured reserve. There's a huge chance he won't be playing for the rest of the season.

I feel bad for Tom Brady because from the sounds of it he was a really good quarterback and a good guy overall. I feel a little friendly sympathy for the Patriots and their fans because it was quite an upset to them. But I'll tell you who I feel worse for...fantasy football players who drafted Tom Brady for their team.

In a fantasy football league, points are awarded based on individual player performance, not on how the team as a whole does (and I'm broadly generalizing that statement because I know there are special teams but for clarity and the sake of my argument I won't get into those details here). So those who had Tom Brady on their team don't have the rest of the Patriots to boost their score, and most had to run to find another starting quarterback, though the damage for the day was already done.

I wouldn't have normally cared so much except my boyfriend drafted Tom Brady for his fantasy football team. His facial expression is what inspired me to write on this topic though...he looked like someone had just shot his dog! It was a very sympathy evoking expression, followed by "Holy fucking shit" and "Fuckin Tom Brady" and "I can't believe this" and an angrier "Fucking Tom Brady!!"...

In other news, the Bears RAN through the Colts, winning 29 - 13. It was particularly refreshing to watch THAT win because the Bears squared off against the Colts in the Super Bowl two years ago and lost...grrr....

This will be an interesting season.

Giv Us Edukashun Or Giv Us Deaffth

The boycott is over. Rev. James Meeks called it off last night after being told by Gov. Rod Blagojevich that the matter would not be addressed by the governor while a boycott is going on.

I think it's a bunch of cockamamie bullshit, but I'm not leading the boycott, so I guess the governor was pretty good at convincing Meeks that his promise was worth calling the boycott off for. Obviously the man has persuasive skills if he's managed to get Illinoisans to vote him into office.

I know why the governor wants the boycott to go hush hush so soon: it's bad publicity for Chicago, and of course we can't have any bad publicity as we attempt to score the bid for the 2016 Olympics. How sad that a showcase of athletic talent is more important than the education of our youth. People need to really get their priorities straight.

Waving the White Flag

I give up. I thought maybe my Halls would defend me. But I suppose I took them too late, after the silly virus was starting to fester in my blood. So here I am now, laying in bed with a raw throat, a cough, and the development of a runny nose. I would like to send a warm thank you to all the sick people around me who seemed intent on making me join you in your sickened misery. Nice to know you wanted me to feel "included". I'd much rather view things like this on the outside looking in.

Still Don't Know Who She Is

Last night, Amardo and I watched the Republican National Convention. Sarah Palin was speaking. I didn't want to watch the thing but he said we should keep our enemies closer and I figured I wanted to be an educated voter, so we watched it.

We didn't catch the whole thing, but the part of the speech we did see was borderline, well, insulting. She heavily referenced the fact that John McCain was a prisoner of war, and while it's good for him that he was able to escape safely, I think they're playing the sympathy card a little too much. Once again, she tried to emphasize Obama's lack of experience.

My question through the speech was this: who the fuck are you? I mean, she wants to blast Obama for not being a prisoner of war...but who is she? What has she done for society lately?

I looked her up on Wikipedia and found...well...nothing important. Oh, except for the fact she doesn't support abortion and advocates abstinence-only sexual education in schools.

Excuse me for a second.

(*exploding fit of laughter, accompanied by snorts, wheezing, and a "whew" at the end*)

You just have to wonder how efficient an "abstinence only" school program would be if the woman advocating it couldn't even keep her 17 year old daughter from getting pregnant. Way to fail before you even get into office, Mrs. Palin.

Given all the bullshit John McCain has been spouting out about Obama, you would think he would choose a running mate that was a little more qualified...and consistent...

As it is, though, he went for the publicity vote.

That's gonna cost ya.