Dear Rap Music,

For 20+ years, I have piped you through every speaker I've owned; recorded you off the radio onto cassette tapes; bought your CDs, dressed like your disciples, spoke your country grammar. 

Your videos taught me all I know about being a woman - how to dress, how to do my hair, how to roll my belly to make men fall at my feet (because that's what you showed me would happen). You taught me that if only I could make some words rhyme, I too could own yachts, gold chains, diamond studded goblets, and the permission card to wear sunglasses indoors. That by having a somewhat mediocre voice, a beat machine,  and later autotune, that I could be anything I wanted to be (and from the way you spoke, I wanted to be you). 

Your lyrics - well, your lyrics inspired me. To "lick you from your head to your toes", to having "racks on racks on racks", to being "the coolest nigga". What. I learned I could call my mother every hateful thing under the sun, as long as I apologized to her in the chorus and then justified it with "I'm cleaning out my closet". I figured out many men wished death upon me, and that I should be ready at every turn with a Glock in hand. Even found that I don't want, I don't need, and I can't stand no minute man - life advice right there.

And I loved you for it, every bit. I felt like such a renegade, pissing the neighbors off by blasting Yung Joc and doing the handlebar dance while I should have been driving. Boy, you sure made juke parties the place to be, the mass of strangers dry humping one another as if sexual deviance was something you could water down with clothing. That was all a part of the world I was in. And again, I loved it. 

I am writing you today to let you know, it's over between us. I can't do this any longer. And rest assured it isn't me...it's you. 

I was listening to a song some months back..."I Don't Like", I believe - maybe you're familiar. The entire thing is just the rapper talking about, well, stuff he doesn't like. And it dawned on me...why would I care what some random 15 year old doesn't like?

Slowly, the realization settled in that most of your output was similarly irrelevant to my life. I mean, I go to work 5 days a week - how many of your songs make me feel good for having a real, day job? I have to pay my own bills, why do I need to hear about you slanging rocks to pay yours? That's not applicable to my situation! You talk about having 5 cars, I have one, and it's hard enough to keep that one in order with flat tires, gas, insurance, parking tickets, and road rage abound. You have a huge mansion in LA, I'm struggling to pay rent for a garden apartment. Elections happen and all you can talk about is how Bush hates blacks (whether I agree or not being irrelevant here), and Obama is black, and Nixon did whatever. 

When I was dealing with breakups, where were you? When I was frustrated, why weren't you there? When I needed a pick me up, when I was fallen and needed a helping hand, you were NO WHERE TO BE FOUND. Too busy out slumming with your candy cars and gold grills to help a sista out, I suppose. 

This summer we went to Lollapalooza again, and saw a group of your disciples spreading your word. 5 dudes jumping around onstage - NOT ONE INSTRUMENT TO BE SEEN. How dare you call yourself "music" when you use none of the musical implements available to you (you can choose between pianos, guitars, drums, violins, flutes, triangles, chimes, accordions, trombones, clarinets, shall I go on)? The last instrument I heard was a violin in Twista's Overnight Celebrity. And that MAY or may not have been sampled. To be fair, I guess I understand now why everything you produce is a "sample" of someone else's song - beat machines make it so easy to chop and screw anything you can find on the internet. Why bother being original and "reinventing the wheel" when you can just take someone else's idea and "Make it your own"? 

"Oh, you're a fan of rap? You are AUTOMATICALLY MY FRIEND, and must be a generally cool person. Let's talk about all of the awesome rap concerts you've been to that I should research, all the great times you've had with other rap fans. You like Run DMC? I like Chief Keef, but since they're both rap, we still have something in common! Want a beer, dude? I'm so glad I met you!"

- Ever, No One

I'll tell you the truth : there is someone else in my life. Someone else who takes care of me, who was there to pick me up when you couldn't even extend your hand. Someone who isn't afraid to scream for me when I can't, who will inspire me to get up off my ass and get moving, who won't allow me to just take anyone's bullshit. Someone who forces me to acknowledge life for what it is and not be so concerned about everyone else's haves and have nots. Someone with variety, real instruments, and a group of fans who are some of the best people I've ever met in my life, of all ages, from all over the world and all walks of life. 

You don't need to know who that someone is - knowing you, you'll just try to jump on the scene and mess it all up for the rest of us. 

I will never forget you, of course. You are too large a part of me for me to turn my back on you forever. But as far as supporting your cause, lending credence to your words, buying your albums or merchandise, or seeing you on tour (if you DO even tour) - well, that's all over and done with. 

I wish you the best of luck in all of your future endeavors. 

Take care of yourself. 

P.S. - I realize my one voice means nothing when drowned in the screams of prepubescent boys in skinny jeans. I know Lil Wayne is still going to sell records, Kanye is still going to wear skirts (please Kim, slap the shit out of that man), and Nicki Minaj is still going to perpetrate like she's a black Katy Perry. I'm just glad I jumped off your Titanic while it was still only 3/4s submersed. Too bad you're too busy listening to your Beats headphones and spinning mixes on your laptop to see it sinking yourself.

Strike!

Recently, the teachers in the Chicago Public Schools held a strike, and did not teach for a week and a half. Students were sent to alternative "day care centers", where they spent their days doing who knows what as they waited for the adults to get their stuff together and return to their jobs. 

I'm not a teacher. I'm not a student, either. This wasn't my battle, so I tried to distance myself from it. But there was no escaping the matter. Teachers swarmed the downtown area, causing massive inconveniences to business there. I have all sorts of teacher friends on Facebook who felt the need to post about their level of support...Every. Damn. Day. I have coworkers and friends who have school aged children, and even my two baby girls are in the system (though only one, the younger, was affected). 

Being unable to completely escape the matter, I tried to do my due diligence so I could at least be armed with knowledge should a confrontation arise. But I couldn't get a straight answer from anyone. One day, the teachers were fighting for quality of education. The next, they're fighting over wages. They said it was to protect students, but they sure weren't teaching, and besides, they were fighting to not be graded on progress. What?

The administration, on the other hand, said the teachers were being greedy, that they had been offered plenty of fair contracts but would not compromise. They said they didn't have the money to give them what they wanted, but that the children's education was most important and at the forefront of the fight. 

Hold the phone. 

Teachers said it had nothing to do with money, but all I could hear was "we want our raises!" and "we have to pay for our own books and it isn't fair!" and "you want us to work longer work days, but you don't want to pay us!" Uhh.....money.

Administrators (and Rahm Emanuel) said they didn't have money to support a raise. But, we're planting flowers all over the city? We're tearing up the streets everywhere? Property taxes, which pay for schools, went up? But we don't have the money?!

Worst of all, all I heard from parents was "my kids just want to go to school". The first few days, they said, were like a vacation, but by the end of the first week of striking, they were tired of the shenanigans and wanted to return to their place of learning. This is what broke my heart - and made me angry.

On Sunday, we found out the teachers would continue to strike for a second week. On Monday, Mayor Emanuel filed a lawsuit to force the teachers to teach again. By Tuesday a deal was reached.

Look. If you're going to fight about money, fine. Adults do it all the time, that's why you see people striking all over the place, that's why people get killed. I get it. Just don't throw kids in the middle of the battlefield and hide behind them like sissies! Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you people?

Like it or not, kids were still learning during that week and a half. Not about the "power of democracy", as the teachers would have believed, or the "power of compromise", as the administrators say to the press. They learned that it's okay to have a "play my way or I take my ball and go home" attitude about adult affairs. They learned that it's an all or nothing world, that they can fight for everything they want (consequences and casualties, be damned!) and not back down until every single one of their desires is fulfilled. They learned it's okay to be selfish, especially when you have so many scapegoats to hide behind. People complain that kids these days have no manners....where do you think they learned it from?!

This COULD have been a powerful lesson in synergy. It could have been a serious win for both sides. Rather, everyone lost (most drastically, the kids). 

For shame.

**Sidenote: I have no idea why this "Text Enhance" crap is all over my blog. But I HATE it. Do not click anything underlined and colored unless it is properly used in context. Text Enhance: Stop it. Stop it now.**

Gun Control (Or Lack Thereof)

Unless you've spent the last few years hidden in a barrack in the Middle East, you've heard of the many mass shootings and other manifestations of gun violence sweeping the US.

Every time something happens, the nation is flung into a high stakes debate over gun control, with some saying weapons should be banned completely, and others saying we should be able to carry them under our Second Amendment rights. And a week or so later, the debate inextricably dissipates into nothing, and not another word of it is spoken until the next wave of violence hits.

I'm not surprised at the lack of discourse surrounding gun control - normally it becomes a question of interpretation of the Second Amendment, which unfortunately in wording states that only citizens being of a well-guarded militia (police, SWAT, etc) should be allowed to carry weapons.

My question is, when did we become so narrow-minded that we stopped looking at the big picture?

Our government would never send an army of able-bodied men into battle without weapons with which to defend themselves. Arguably, it is just as dangerous to step outside of your house, yet we are sent out every day with little to defend ourselves with. Why is it okay to leave our citizens defenseless against those with the wherewithall to purchase guns and use them at their discretion, knowing the retaliation will likely be nonexistant?

Many say, "you can find alternate methods of protection: use Mace!"

I hate Mace. Besides, that stuff is aerial...just because you spray it at your attacker doesn't mean it won't spread through the air and affect you too. I'm far less likely to be hurt by the recoil of a handgun than Mace.

I have also admittedly carried knives of all sorts, from ordinary steak knives concealed up my sleeve to butterfly knives in my purse. But as it goes, who carries a knife to a gunfight?

At the end of the day, I care far more about my safety than I care about the law. If I get shot and killed, God is not going to let me in the gates because I abided the concealed carry law and died as a result! But at the same time, I'm not so grossly disrespectful of the law that I'll risk jail time simply because I wanted to protect myself.

If guns are illegal because more money comes into the government as a result (versus regulation), then our officials should be ashamed of themselves. Putting citizens' lives in danger to make a buck - isn't that more criminal than having a gun?

In the meantime, I'll continue to watch the news, and feign shock every time I hear of a new shooting - as if these things aren't commonplace by now.

Hey, It's Getting a Little Crowded Here

Since the day I registered for a Facebook account (back in 2005, when it was first made available to high school students), I have amassed some 425 Facebook friends. I really have met most of these people at some point in my life, whether face-to-face or through the internet.

Yet, I speak to very few of these people on even a semi-regular basis. Some of them are through my own shortcomings - plans I made that I missed, calls I never returned, messages I sent that may not have sat too well. Those, I understand.

In some cases I've reached out, but the gesture was never returned. I suppose that comes with the territory.

 

 I scroll through my newsfeed daily, reading what's new. I see plenty of Godspeak, those witty pictures with the quotes, photos showing what was eaten for breakfast/lunch/dinner, cocktails in plastic cups next to half empty liquor bottles, BABIES, and engagement parties with smiling attendees. Yet, even with all of this juicy news popping up, I more often than not feel even less fulfilled than I did before I started reading. Why?

I suspect its because most of this stuff doesn't apply to me, in any way, shape, or form. Take babies, for example. Most of my friends have children. I don't. And as assholio as this sounds, I don't like spending a whole lot of time around kids right now, for a host of reasons. First, I'm too old to be default babysitter, which is normally what happens when I'm around people with kids ("Here, you hold the baby! We're going to escape for a few minutes...."). Second, I don't want to be responsible for anyone else's spawn, given I have none of my own. Third, I participate in all sorts of adult debauchery, and I hate having kids around when I do it.

From my point of view, this all makes sense. To my friends with children, I'm sure I come off wrong. So I talk to very few of them anymore.

Then there's the whole God thing. I've said it before here, I'll say it again - I'm not the most glowing example of religion there is. I believe in God, sure. I also believe in guardian angels and the Holy Trinity. I ALSO believe wholeheartedly in superstition. And I think the Bible is a man-made document (a belief that inevitably starts a shitstorm of argument and hypocrisy, and normally ends in hurtful epithets being flung like monkey poop across the room). Most of my FBF hold God to a high point in their lives, and feel the need to tell us about it. Every. Damn. Day. Given that I violate at least a handful of Biblical rules everyday, and I hate having religion pumped into every aspect of my life, I don't speak much to them, either.

There's hypocrites, chauvinists, whores, sluts, teachers, radicals, and vegans on my news feed. I don't identify with any of them, I keep them around for my own entertainment. It's purely selfish. I don't care.

I can't help but wonder, though: when did all of these people become nothing more to me than pawns for my storytelling pleasure? When did people who once played a huge part in my everyday life fade away into the distance, never to be reached again?

I know that many of them are associated with periods in my past - the business groups I joined, the trips I've taken, the schools I've attended. They are who I was with during those times, they provided support, and friendship, and laughs, and good times.

Now that I'm past those periods, as are they, their role in my life has assumed an entirely different level of importance. I do not see them everyday as a force of life; now, if I want to make connections, I have to work towards them. I have to cultivate them.

Life grants you certain opportunities to meet people, but those people are what Life gives you in its own mixed bag. Some of these people, you will connect with. Some, you will not. You might find someone with whom you make a lasting connection.

What I learned through my Facebook feed was that most of the people there were the ones Life had given to me - stock issue, if you will. They were the teachers, classmates, and coworkers that I had acquired, somewhat by default. Sure, I am compatible in certain ways with a number of them. They help me figure out the kinds of people I'd like to keep around, and those I shouldn't.

There are people I met through interest, not proxy. Those are the ones I have the least trouble reuniting with, and the most fun doing so. The people I had to work hard to see in the first place are the ones I'm more likely to still communicate with now. It's an interesting phenomenon. But it makes perfect sense.

Facebook does something that we were not able to do before - it reminds us of all those people that were only supposed to be in our lives for a particular time. It doesn't allow us to move different ways, as we should. It doesn't allow us to move on, as it should.

Truth be told, I don't think I want to move on just yet. Facebook has become a social experiment of sorts for me, opening my eyes to the hilarious and yet horribly mundane things people do (and hold of high regard) in their lives. It shows me different ideologies and beliefs that I might not have learned otherwise. So for the time being, I'll leave my 425 friends as they are. And if any of them are meant to come back into the forefront of my life, well, I'm open to that too. As the world turns.......

Feels Like Home

I'm baaaaaaaaaacccckkkkk!!!!

It's been FAR too long. Time has seemed to just float away - I guess it tends to do that when you're learning new things, and trying to find yourself in the process. 

Here's what I've been off doing for the past few years: 

- I started working at a law firm, finally! Initially, I was in the billing department doing data entry. After a year of that, I got promoted to an assistant position handling property tax appeals. Which has been, in its own right, quite the experience. More on that in future posts. 

- I attended two WWE events. Had a blast at both.

- I went to Wisconsin Dells twice. The highlight of both trips, of course, being the Wisconsin cheese. Bacon cheddar is addictive. 

- For the first time ever, I went to Disney World! We went for New Years. It was absolutely ten times more magical than I ever expected, and we were definitely there with no children. I am amazed I had so much fun. 

- I went back to school, briefly. Until they messed my financial aid up AGAIN. They can't keep me back forever though, so of course I'm working on getting back in. 

- I've gone through 5 phones: an iPhone, two Crackberrys, an LG Rumor Touch, and now, my LG MyTouch Q. I still want my Sidekick back. 

- I developed a random allergy to pineapples recently. Which sucks, because I rather enjoyed pineapple until it almost killed me. 

I have been hopping around to the blogs I used to visit, just to see how you guys are all doing :) I missed my friends here more than anything else. 

I am working on getting my Shoutbox back, and I'm sure I'll be changing the theme sometime soon. I want to create something that is totally my own. 

Finally, before I go, here is a song I've been listening to a lot. I'm not even from L.A. but I can feel the pride, and I love the beat. 

I will be back soon - there's so much going on in sports, news, current events, I can't WAIT to get back into the groove!

It feels so good to be home.

New Website

Hey Everybody!

I've been spending the last few weeks working on my new blog, The Common Sense Review. It's not very developed, because I'm spending more time writing thorough posts and I'm still playing with theme ideas and figuring out how I want it to look and function. I'm also building up the post number, so there will be an ample amount of reading material available.

You are, of course, welcome to come visit me here. Also, if you want to add the URL, it's http://commonsensereview.wordpress.com.

Hope to see you there!

Is This It?

2010 is looking like the year of new beginnings for me.

I am now once again a full-time student. Classes start March 8. And unlike the last time I thought I was going to be back in school, I have the financial aid award letter and my classes are scheduled. Anything that I thought would keep me from going to school has either been handled, or is in the process of being handled.

Now, I'm faced with the thought that I'll need to start back helping with the bills. And I don't want to just be in school for the next two years without generating any income.

I'm considering the thought of completely monetizing my blog and taking it to an even better place than it used to be.

Scratch the "considering" part. I am going to do it.

Initially, my idea was to give this blog credit where credit was due and allow it to die peacefully and quietly like so many other blogs do. I was going to move to Wordpress and start fresh with a new layout, tweaked writing style, and new content.

Further thought, however, has enlightened me to the fact that I shouldn't reinvent the wheel if at all possible. This blog, if nothing else, has age. I've been doing this for almost 3 years. Not only do I have some experience writing for an audience, but the age makes it a very dependable site when I'm trying to add some affiliate links or other revenue outlets.

It's easy for me to talk myself out of doing this...it's taking a risk, and a gamble at that. I'm not exactly sheltered from life anymore. My essentials are being taken care of, but now I'm significantly more responsible for them than I was when I was living with my grandmother. On the other hand, though, finding a job now, with the prospect of me starting school so soon, is seeming like less and less of a good idea. The whole reason I've gone back to school is because I wanted to be able to get a better job than what I'm currently qualified for. I don't want to spend all my time working terrible jobs that I hate just for a little pocket change. I'd rather spend my time doing something I love to do and allow the money to follow.

At least now, I have about a month and a half to start revamping this blog, finding and adding revenue, and creating valuable content that will actually attract and keep readers (shouts out to my loyal fellow bloggers who have stuck with me this far...I promise you'll see rewards for it in the near future!).

I don't expect to come out the box making thousands or even hundreds of dollars a month. That's unrealistic. But I do believe that if I keep at it, keep my eyes open for new opportunities, and remain true to the new purpose of this blog (and to myself), then maybe within a year I'll be generating enough income to not feel so bad about pursuing my dreams right now when things aren't quite settled at home yet.

I'd like to again thank everybody who has traveled this far with me, and I hope to see you all again on the other side of the blog!

Finally Being Honest

Earlier this morning, I attempted to sit in front of my computer screen and blog about what truly made me happy.

That turned out to be a much bigger and more difficult task than I thought. The very first thought I put down in my process was a negative one.

So I decided to approach this differently. I turned off the computer and grabbed a good old pen and two pieces of paper, and just started to write.

Sometimes, I just don't think I'm enough. Enough of a person, enough of a woman. Not pretty enough. Not funny enough. Not friendly. Unsuccessful.

That was the very first paragraph I wrote. Yeah, I know...ouch. It takes a real lack of self-esteem to be able to write those things without flinching. It actually slightly hurts to know that when I challenged myself to write about being happy, the very first thing I did was put myself down.

I continued on for the next few pages, trying to pinpoint things that make me happy. Dressing up. Getting my nails done. These weren't it. I started writing about school, and wrote this:

I don't miss school as it was 2 years ago. I don't miss the life I had (entirely). What I do miss was the ability to learn new things. I miss being myself.

Lights and sirens started to blare. I hesitated slightly before writing the statement I miss being myself. I wanted to catch it, to stop myself before writing it. I felt ashamed.

I hesitated to write that last statement. And I immediately wanted to try to justify my statement. I wanted to explain myself away, maybe to soften the blow. I cared enough about what people think and the thought of who might read this that I didn't want to be honest with myself. Is that what I've come to? Have I devoted so much of my time to pleasing everyone else that I've forgotten how to be honest with myself?

I had to touch a soft spot within myself in order to admit that for a long time, I haven't been honest with myself. I'm not only referring to the big decisions in my life, such as what career I want to pursue or what I want to do with my credit. I'm referring to smaller everyday decisions. My blogger queue is chock full of half-written posts, abandoned because I felt the topic would be too sensitive to post or because I feared hurting somebody's feelings. I don't do what I want to my hair because I fear what someone might say, even though I know it would look 50 times better if I cut it shorter.

I still don't understand what caused me to start such a self-defeating cycle of doing everything for the acceptance of other people, completely ignoring everything that makes me happy.

Everything, that is, except coffee.

Coffee is the one of the few things I can think of that I've never compromised for anyone. It's the first thing I ever really rebelled with, at the age of 15. My mother forbade me to drink coffee...I drank it anyway. I wish I could say that I did it just because she told me not to...it would make me sound like I had some balls. But I drank it because it tastes delicious to me, and because I didn't understand why it's so bad. Still don't. As a matter of fact, I've told men I dated in the past that if they couldn't deal with me liking coffee, then maybe they needed to look somewhere else.

The reason I thought about coffee, and devoted a page and a half to writing about it, was that I found it interesting how I can quickly assert my beliefs regarding that but I seem to become a sissy about everything else.

But more than that, it was a lifeline of hope, a sliver of understanding in what were once murky waters. I'd asked myself what made me happy. After 3 1/2 hours of searching, I found one thing that purely makes me, and no one else, happy. It's certainly not the only thing, but it was refreshing to have at least one answer to my question. Demiera 1, Hard Life Questions 0.

People are interested in me...nay, I am interesting as a person, when I just do me. When I start doing things that I think other people want, not only am I usually very wrong, but I also stop being happy. I don't know what anybody else wants in their life. Why would I spend my life working on shaping myself to someone else's standards when I don't even know what their standards are, and honestly don't care?

How intriguing...in reading the passages excerpted from my long letter to myself, I feel like I've been more honest as a writer and a person than I have been in a long, long time. I finally see some of my personality coming out, some of my true beliefs, showing their face after so much time of being held back.

I wish I had some catchy conclusion to this post, to wrap it up. I wish I could say that I vow to always follow my own mind, to always do things the way I want them done. Let's be real. Change doesn't occur overnight, and you don't reverse 20 years of dependent thinking in a morning.

I can, however, admit that now that I've tapped a part of my soul and being that had been hidden for so long, I can finally work toward consciously changing my thought processes. I worried that nobody took me seriously...sure they didn't, because I didn't take myself seriously. Now it's time for me to start doing just that. Bit by bit, decision by decision, I'm sure I'll recover confidence that I lost, and finally start on that road to being truly happy again.

------

On a completely unrelated note, I want to stress the importance of family. I kind of strayed away from mine, even though they've always supported me, because I always thought that I needed to constantly impress them and once things didn't start working the way I thought they would, I felt like I was a failure and that I had let them down.

I realize now (and did for a little while, but it's really all making sense now) that everything I had projected that they were thinking was untrue, and largely a product of my own imagination. In fact, any time I think I can guess what's on someone's mind, it's normally just a product of my imagination and I almost always find later on that I was terribly wrong.

In any event, I've reached out, and they've accepted me back (as loving family does) and I'm ready to admit that I definitely was wrong in assuming that they wouldn't love or accept me just because I wasn't living life the way I thought they wanted me to live. I'm wrong in thinking anyone in my life worth having around won't love or accept me just because I don't make the decisions they want me to. Anybody who so conditionally cares for me doesn't deserve to be around me.

My uncle Calvin wrote this on my Facebook page, and as his messages always do, it really touched me and almost brought me to tears, and I wanted to share it here:


You're back in the nest so stay true to the fam and the fam will always stay true to you. Fear not the people you know, but those who are unseen and have not revealed themselves to you. Work on your instincts and learn to walk in the night fearless with your eyes closed. When you are related to something greater than you, shed your fears and pursue your dreams with all the zest and vigor your heart can produce. Don't look back just stay focused on your goals and future.....I'm always watching your back so you don't have too!

Pretty Mixed Babies

There's a new epidemic sweeping the nation, a trend that has silently yet powerfully taken our culture by storm. You might see them walking down the street, milling through stores, traveling in packs...

I'm referring to interracial couples.

An episode of The Golden Girls brought this topic to mind (yes, I do watch the Golden Girls faithfully). The show features a young white man and an older black woman getting married and shows the parents' difficulties dealing with that fact.

It got my mind gears cranking.

I am half of an interracial couple myself. I'm Black and Indian, and Jay is Mexican and Puerto Rican. Other than the occassional racial teasing, when he accuses me of being in love with fried chicken and I protest his insistance of eating everything on tortillas, we get along very well despite any differences in our skin tone. As a matter of fact, our relationship is very culture rich because we have the opportunity to show each other what makes each of us unique.

Unfortunately, skin color is enough of an issue to still create some discomfort at certain occasions. Meeting the parents was a scary experience for both of us because neither knew how we would be received into our respective families.

That, of course, says nothing about the looks we get from people when we walk down the street holding hands, or the comments we hear in passing that we know are directed our way.

We aren't looking for acceptance from the world. We accept each other, and that's enough for us.

But it wouldn't hurt if people weren't so damn unaccepting of the idea that a black woman and a hispanic man can love each other and be compatible enough to come together in a relationship.

What are your thoughts on interracial relationships, good or bad?

We were at Lollapalooza. We were hot, the "liquid courage" was flowing, the air was thick with Mary Jane's perfume...but we were together and we were (and still are!) HAPPY!!

Designing a Home Office (Part 1)

I'm supposed to be cleaning the house.

Instead, I'm online shopping for furniture to create a home office we don't have the space for.

Let me back up. We have the space for an office. It's just not one of the more important things we need to be purchasing right now.

But, in light of the Christmas spirit, I can dream about it anyway.

I found an awesome desk at walmart.com that I've absolutely fallen in love with.

It's the Orion L-Shaped desk, running for $89.00.




How do you beat a price like that??

In addition, the desk is so cute, and looks like it would fit perfectly in the free space we have in the living room. It would be a nice place to store our documents. I think the CD tower is a little unnecessary since we don't stockpile many CDs, but I can definitely find an alternate use for it (outgoing mail, maybe? Bills to be paid?)

Regardless, it's cute. And affordable. And I want it.

Of course, you can't get a desk without a chair. And I found a cute chair too, leather no less, for $49.00.

I'm in office shopping heaven right now.

We need the desk space. Plus, the black/woodgrain will look reeeeaaaaallllllllyyyy nice with our black entertainment center and wooden cocktail table. It will do a lot to bring together the living room, while establishing that little corner as the "office corner".

We can put the laptop over there, and our books, and...

I'm probably getting a little ahead of myself. I haven't formally measured the space I have to work with, so that desk may not work as well as I'd like it to.

I'm also not considering the fact that our refrigerator is smack dab in the middle of the living room, making the task of cutting the office from the kitchen even harder.

I suppose my biggest concern is having way too much going on in the living room. But, if we've got the space, and we can make it work, why not go for it?

I'll plead my case tonight, and we'll see what happens... :)

Organizing From The Inside Out

Yesterday, a trip to the bookstore yielded my second copy of Organizing from the Inside Out by Julie Morgenstern.

I previously owned the similar book geared toward teens, written by Morgenstern's daughter Jessi. Ironically, I somehow misplaced that book. I attribute that to my own disregard of the general rules in the book and not to a lack of good advice. The book was awesome.

I am now prepared to launch an all-out organizing assault on our small, one bedroom apartment.

The good thing is that since we moved in only a few months ago, we haven't accumulated a huge amount of unnecessary items. But because the place is so small with so few storage items, it has become very difficult to control the clutter in the house while keeping it as aesthetic as possible.

The main reason not much has been done to decorate is the fact that we don't intend on staying in this apartment beyond the lease, which is up in August. We didn't want to spend a lot of time and money making this place habitable when we knew we wanted to find a new place as soon as possible.

What I'm discovering, though, is our lack of organization here is affecting much more than just the items in our house. Bills we thought were paid are turning up forgotten, important dates come and go without regard, and our important documents end up in a huge pile under the cocktail table and thrown anywhere they will fit.

We don't have much up in the form of decoration, making the apartment look boring and simply as a place to sleep, eat (though not all of the time) and bathe, versus looking like a home.

Since this is the first piece of paper Jay and I have signed our names to jointly, it holds a very sentimental aspect. But the decor doesn't reflect that.

Our bathroom is tiny and I'm an impulsive beauty product buyer, which means I have toiletries on the rims of the bathtub, the sink shelf, in containers under the sink, spread through the medicine cabinet, in the closet, and in a hamper in the living room (which I would like to relocate or even get rid of, since it's simply a shit collector).

Don't get me wrong, the place isn't a mess. And clean up usually isn't terribly painful. But the fact remains that it is aesthetically unbecoming and the important things (mainly our finances) are being left in the wind.

I haven't actually started mapping out a plan for the apartment yet. I chose to review the book first, get a general idea of what I'd be getting into, then will reread the important parts to follow the steps necessary to get organized.

I do, however, have a general idea of how I would like for this place to look.

Most importantly, though, after realizing my own goals and plans for reorganizing and decorating this space, I need to talk to Jay about his own expectations of space, living conditions, and budget agreements. After all, he lives here too (and now pays the bills) so I need to make sure whatever I do will benefit both of us, not cause more stress and problems.

I'll be documenting my progress as I go along, so you can follow along in the steps I do and maybe my journey will help you get organized, too.

Let the project begin...

Ahhh, Technology

I would like to take a moment to thank all of the computer/phone geeks in this world.

I don't mean geeks like me, either. I'm a bit of a geek, but the only reason I can do so much with a computer/phone is because I've learned the value of Google. And I use it quite often.

I mean the geeks who actually sit at home and work out the solutions to our everyday computer problems, then post their findings on the Web for all us lazy geeks to Google. You guys are awesome.

See, I was in a period of need. My laptop has probably breathed it's final breath (piece of shit HP...goddammit...way to put out an extended warranty and cover all laptops BUT mine...motherfuckers...mother board problems...you know how much mother boards cost???).

Unfortunately, my LIFE was on that computer. Meaning, of course, my music library and my iTunes. Now, my iPhone used to be synced to Jay's computer, which worked out just fine because his piece of shit computer at least will TURN ON. But I sacrificed over 1.000 songs from his computer so I could put my 1300 or so from my own computer onto my phone. Then I copied as many songs as I could from his library onto a flash drive and transferred them over.

Yeah, that was a lot of work.

Needless to say, that's all gone. And my iPhone is currently the only proof that I have a music library. It took me well over a year to rebuild my library after the LAST time my computer fucked up and I had to restore to factory settings.

I'm not wiping out my music again.

But I'll never use iTunes again. So what do I do? Google!!

How to put music on iPhone without using iTunes.

I found some interesting little tidbits, but I was directed to a program called CopyTrans Manager. So I downloaded it...and it's A.W.E.S.O.M.E.

Then I downloaded another nifty little program called iRinger. Now thanks to my CopyTrans Manager and iRinger, I not only have stolen all kinds of music from Jay's computer (muahahahaha) but I also have created custom ringtones for my iPhone. So whenever my phone rings you hear:

"Til we die, niggas just don't know...PAYBACK IS A MOTHERFUCKER WHEN YOU FUCKIN WITH THE PSSSYYYYYYCCCCHHHHOOOOO!!!"

(That would be from the song "Do Whatchu Wanna Do" by Psychodrama.)

I like to think about it this way. The price for an iPhone is highway robbery any way you look at it. You're paying an exorbitant amount for it, whether your money goes toward the purchase of the phone or towards the damn near $100/mo plan.

I'm sorry. I'm not gonna pay $250 for the phone, then $100/mo for the shitty plan AND some ringtones.

Honestly, people will do anything they can to make a dollar, even off something as stupid as having a special song when your phone rings.

And don't get me started on Callback tones or whatever THE fuck those things are called...you know when you call somebody and the ring is a song?

No offense to anyone who has that. But it doesn't make any sense.

Why would I spend money so OTHER PEOPLE can enjoy a song? If I'm gonna spend money on a song, I want that song to play whenever I call someone else.

I mean, are the people who call me gonna contribute to the cost of that particular call back tone?Probably not.

More than likely, they won't even mention it. I won't get a "Hey girl, your callback tone sure is neat!" or "Demiera, I want a callback tone just like yours, where'd you get it?"

But.

If I'm in the company of someone else with an iPhone who has not yet learned the (not-so-huge) secret of putting your own custom ringtones on your phone and my phone happens to ring, I will get a "Whoa, dude, you got ringtones on your phone? How'd you do that??"

Bingo...

Plazo Sesamo

So last night I came to a huge conclusion about why I can't speak Spanish fluently given my 11 years (okay, okay, you can pick your jaw up off the floor now) of Spanish class in school.

I mean, it's kind of embarrassing to have devoted that much time to learning a language you still aren't fluent in.

If you want to learn a language, any language, you need to make sure you're learning it by associating the foreign word with an object, not a word.

Let me say that again. Associate foreign words with objects, not words.

This is going to sound crazy, but Jay and I watched Sesame Street... en espanol... it was the best learning experience ever. It's a completely visual process, and I was intrigued by how well I felt I could grasp the show, even though it was entirely in Spanish.

Yes, I know. It's a kid's show. But I was learning, dammit.

I learned that a mariposa is a butterfly, how to say the letter "M", and that if you can't sleep, you say no puedo dormir.

The fundamental error in the way most advanced Spanish teachers teach Spanish is that they tend to associate words and phrases in Spanish with words we use in English. In other words, it's a huge conjugation exercise.

This method of teaching leads to failure, because a person cannot feasibly learn to speak a language when they force their brain to follow so many steps to communicate. You make yourself do extra steps.

Let's say the task at hand is for someone to say a phrase to me in Spanish, and I have to also respond in Spanish.

Sounds pretty simple and straightforward, right?

For me, it's not. Let's say the phrase is "Que quieres comer?"

Step one: I must translate this phrase into English. The phrase means "What do you want to eat?"

Step two: Now that I've translated the phrase into a language I speak fluently, I can finally think of how to answer the question. Suppose I want chicken (no black comments please...JAY :P). Now I formulate my response in English: "I want chicken."

But wait. The task is for me to answer the question in Spanish, not in English. So the third step is for me to translate my response into Spanish. My answer would be "Quiero pollo."

It may not sound like an unreasonable task, but imagine your brain having to follow this process every time you attempt to understand a sentence in Spanish. I spend so much energy and attention translating the phrase that I don't have a chance to understand what's going on.

Thus, the fundamental flaw in my learning: the association of Spanish to English words, not to the objects they represent.

I can look at an apple and tell you it's a manzana. I can look at the color green and tell you it's verde. I can look at the number 15 and tell you it's quince. Anything I was taught through simple repetition, however, is gone.

Likewise, I picked up a couple of words they don't teach you in class, like pendejo. What's funny is I don't even know the English translation for this word, but I can use it in everyday language. Like when I called the cat a pendejo for knocking everything off the table.

If you're trying to learn a different language, don't try to read a book about learning it or buy those stupid computer programs that make you repeat phrases from English translations, because at the end of the day you're only going to end up frustrated. I really believe if you do it right you can become fluent in a language for (almost) free.

Immerse yourself in the language. I live around a couple of Mexican restaurants and supermarkets, so whenever we go to the store I'm associating names with meats and fruits. I look at menus and try to learn there. It's a never-ending process, but I must learn Spanish before I have children... I want them to be bilingual but I have to be first, or else I'll never know what they're talking about...

Adios...!

Should Have Seen It Coming...

Dear Life,


Today, I got fired.


Never been fired before...but I suppose there's a first time for everything.


The general manager was nice about it...and he may have been lying, but it seemed like he really didn't want to fire me. I guess that's why I'm not mad. He said I'm a great employee but not for the job I was working.


Which I was expecting. I knew by the end of this month I probably wouldn't be there anymore.

Still.


Let the record show that I worked my ASS off at that job. I never gave up. I asked for help, I researched, I did everything I could. I trained another person so well they bumped her up TWO departments. So obviously I did know what I was doing. I had the mechanics of the job down, the steps to follow, the scripts to read.

At the end of the day, though, I'm just not a collector.

I had hoped that in this job, I would learn to be more aggressive. I had hoped I would learn to be less afraid of doing certain things. I had hoped that through this experience I would learn how to be more assertive, how to go after what I want. I learned a different lesson from this. I learned that sometimes, desire to do well isn't enough. I learned that others can help you only so far...the rest comes from within. Yes, I worked hard and that was obvious. Yes, I put forth my best effort. But I was really just running at top speed on a treadmill...wasting all my energy and not going anywhere. It was a waste of time for both me and the company.

Of course, I'm being completely logical minded on the outside. But I still have tears waiting to fall. I won't say I'm not accustomed to failing but I'm certainly not used to failing at things I put real effort into. But I will not allow myself to think this was all for nothing.

Time to dust myself off, listen to some feel-good music, clean up the house, eat some comfort food, and start the search for a new job. No time to sit and dwell on failures or setbacks...life moves way too fast for that...

Dreaming...

What do you want to be when you grow up?

The time I ever answered that question (that I can remember) was when I was around 3 or 4 years old. I wanted to be a firefighter, and I was convinced I'd grow up to be the best fire fighting machine around.

Ah, how times change.

Over the course of the years, my dreams evolved. I went from fire fighter to nurse to teacher to lawyer to forensic psychologist to lawyer again to high powered business woman.

Now that it's time for me to actually put my dreams in motion, I'm at a loss.

Somehow when you're younger it's much more fun to think about what you want to be when you get older. Maybe it's the fact that when you're young, your dreams remain largely that: dreams. You can't really do much for your dream of what you want to be when you grow up because you normally need to grow up first.

I'm being faced with this decision much earlier than I expected or wanted to be, but in a way it's my fault. I'd rather not be one of those people who spends 20-30 years at a job they hate because they were too afraid to confront their dreams and make them work.

The thing about a dream is there is a reason a dream remains a dream. There's always some obstacle between it and reality.

What do you do when the obstacle lies not in achieving the dream, but in determining the dream itself?

Talk Like You're The Ish

So, Jay and I were conversing on the eloquent art of collecting large balances from a big company.

He's the brilliant mind with the talk. So he, joking around, rolls off the tongue with this smooth operator ass talk off. I mean, it was perfect. He showed no hesitation, no shame, no stuttering. His voice was strong, convincing. He could care less if the person paid the debt and you could hear it...made me wanna go get my checkbook.

And I'm sitting there listening to him, trying to decide whether I should grab a pen and paper and take notes or just be jealous as shit that he can talk like that and I can't.

Teach me to talk like that, I begged him.

"Talk like you're the shit," he says, and leaves it at that.

I couldn't talk like I was the shit if I literally was a pile of feces.

My biggest problem is that I never took the time to develop confidence...I'd always thought that if I weren't the highest form of modest, I would come off as arrogant. In doing so, I think I've wandered to the most extreme end of the modesty spectrum and become rather comfortable with not having that face that point in my life.

And now, I have to. My job requires it, my living situation requires it, my responsibilities require it. I need to learn to have my own voice and not be afraid to share it.

So what should I do? I mean, should I stand in front of the mirror every day and just tell myself I'm the shit until I start to believe it? Should I find a mantra and post it on my desk to look at on every call to remind myself that I'm in control?

Not gonna lie...for about a week, I did feel like I was the shit. I was popping big payments left and right, and I was feeling great. Then something happened and BOOM...the confidence was gone. I never found it back.

So guess what...if it takes chanting a mantra between each call, I'll do it. If it takes waking up 5 minutes early so I can give myself a proper mirror pep talk before starting my day, so be it. If while I'm bored I gotta write down my frustrations to keep them out of mind so I can stay focused, then I'll write away. Put my phone away during work. Do nothing but focus on doing what I need to do to get what I need.

I'm not going to go in there tomorrow with my chest all puffed out, thinking I'll get paid on my first call. It doesn't work that way.

But it IS about time to get in, kick ass, and take names later.

Let's do this.

A Prayer

Dear God:

I haven't prayed in a while, I know. It's got nothing to do with a lack in faith in you and everything to do with me wanting to be an independent spirit and make it on my own.

But I can't do it. Something's truly wrong. I wake up nauseous almost every morning, and I'm not pregnant. Staying up past 10 is an accomplishment, and once I'm sleep I'm OUT. I don't eat, I'm always worried, and reportedly I talk in my sleep now too.

I'm sure my afflictions are my emotions breaking through to a physical medium, where they may actually be acknowledged. I start crying out of nowhere, and honestly if you asked me why I was crying I wouldn't be able to tell you. I get angry at the snap of a finger at the smallest things...to the point of almost cursing out unsuspecting jewellers or almost jumping out the car to destroy a UPS truck that cut us off (true story).

Could stress really be the driving force behind all of this? Or is there something more serious?

I don't want to wake up crying anymore. I don't want to continually pass out at 8 at night anymore. I don't want to snap at Jay anymore, I don't wanna wake up to find out I've called him something truly derogatory in my sleep (I'm so sorry, by the way). I don't want to wake up asking "Can I quit today?". I don't want to go into work knowing that I may be suspended today, or knowing that the end of this month could be the end of my employment just because I've been threatened with the pink slip twice already.

Yes, God, the solutions are easy. Keep your head up. Find a new job. Don't complain about it. Talk to your managers, talk to their managers, talk to HR, talk to somebody. Keep a positive attitude. I've been listening, I swear I have. But as logical as I like to think I am, I also know that I'm an emotion-driven creature, and that if I stifle or try to falsely confront my emotions, eventually they're going to affect me in other ways...like physically.

So first, I pray that you give everyone around me the patience to deal with me...especially Jay. He gets the brunt end of my frustration, depression, and anger and it's not fair.

I'm so confused, God. I don't lead a bad life. I have a wonderful fiancee, my own apartment, and a job where truthfully if I didn't feel so stressed I'd probably have the potential to do really well. I've got a great set of best friends, and even though I haven't seen them in a while I still do care about each and every one of them. I'm finally getting the family support I've wanted for years and years. Why can't I just embrace that and be happy? Why am I continually depressed?

Please, just give me the strength to make it through this. Give me the confidence to not come out of each day beaten. I need to be able to stand on my own two feet and know that no matter what life throws at me, the only thing that can truly make me fall is myself.

Please and thank you, God.

Love,
Demiera

G.I.N.G.E.R.

So, last week on the fly (as all my somewhat stupid decisions tend to be) I decided I wanted to color my hair.

So to Ulta we go in search of the perfect box coloring kit. After some careful deliberation and help from a friendly associate, I buy the box that's supposed to make my hair look like a caramel delight and head home to start my makeover.

Of course, it didn't matter to me that I've never colored my whole hair before and the last time I tried putting any kind of chemicals in it ended in a big FAIL (that would have been my attempt to do semi-permanent highlights, which also ended up in a mess and a red bathroom but at least it didn't look too bad so I kept it).

Also not factored into my snap decision: the fact that I'd washed my hair that very day (big no-no) and that it's very difficult to see the back of my head with the mirror. Which meant I had to ask Jay to highlight the back of my hair for me.

After about 3 hours of sitting, dropping hair dye all over the bathroom, and some fussing back and forth, I rinsed out the final step of bleach to discover a huge chunk in the back of my head (and a little to the left) was almost completely blonde, while other random chunks and streaks were anywhere from a golden brown to the caramel they were supposed to be, and the front of my hair had some hints of red [because I completely disregarded the warning that said not to color over semi permanent highlights]. My hair literally blended in quite well with the surrounding autumn leaves.

As you can imagine, I was mortified. And I had to go to work the next morning with my hair all different shades of FUGLY.

So straight from my job went we to the hair salon down the street, to see what they could do with my now damaged strands. $60 later, I looked like this:


At least my streaks are now all even. I wasn't going for the redhead look but I guess it isn't all that bad....not that I'm going to do anything to change it any time soon. My poor hair was fried from that whole ordeal. I've finally gotten it back almost to how it used to be but you can tell it's no longer as healthy as it was before :(.

Speaking of hair...it's about time for me to start working on it for work today...

Picture Perfect

So...Charlie Murphy is DEFINITELY the star of the house now. He's not terribly photogenic. As a matter of fact, he normally swats at or tries to bite my phone whenever I try to take his picture.

This morning, though, I was sitting on the couch attempting to pull my boots on. Charlie Murphy, being the ever attention hungry little sweetheart he is, jumped right into my lap and looked at me with the "don't leave me, just stay here and pet me" face. And for the first time he let me snap a picture that truly shows how adorable he is all of the time.

And I swear if I didn't have to be at work, I would have stopped what I was doing to chill with him. Even now, as I sit on the couch with my feet propped up blogging, he's laying on the floor directly underneath my legs sleeping. Whenever I'm in the living room or kitchen, he's never far away, no matter what I'm doing.

So cute.

Sensing Some Paranormal Activity?

Finally...I can sit down and blog. It's 8 in the morning and I don't have to be at work until 11 so I'm sitting here with my mug of coffee, ready to unload everything that's been built up.

The night before last Jay and I went to a screening of the movie Paranormal Activity.

Dude.

That movie was fuckin awesome.

Jay, a huge scary movie skeptic, was even spooked. It's got a very Blair Witch Project feel with the whole documentary idea, but it's ten times scarier.

The trailer doesn't even do it justice. Had you seen the first trailer for it, you wouldn't think it was worth watching. For once, the trailer doesn't spoil the movie, let me tell you. And the audience reactions you're gonna see are not simulated. People actually walked out the movie not because it sucked, but because they were so terrified they couldn't stand to watch it.

I can't stress this enough: GO SEE IT.

Development on the job: basically, I didn't get moved into anything clerical.

In fact, they told me they can't keep me in a position I don't want to be in, and on the spot I needed to decide whether I wanted to stay or go.

WTF.

I chose to stay, only (and I do mean ONLY) because Jay asked me to, asked me to stick it out at least until I found another job. Because for once, money wasn't a good enough reason for me to stay at a job. For once, I'm ready to just pack my little cubicle of shit up, all of which would fit neatly into my purse, and chunk up the deuce. I'll worry about the money later.

And though Jay gracefully landed the AT&T gig, is passing training with flying colors, and is more than able to support me, I still want my own job and my own money. So I took his advice, and chose to wait it out.

On the managers' part, they did move me to the more productive side of the floor, so I'm surrounded by people who can help me get money. And I've been staying afloat, not necessarily doing the best, but I'm keeping my nose a centimeter above water level.

I'm thankful to have a job, and glad to have had this opportunity to find out that collections ISN'T for me. Now it's time to move on.

And last but not least, we have a new addition to the family: Charlie Murphy!

He's a 10 month old kitten. We had to drive over to Indiana to pick him up. He's the sweetest little thing, except at night when he decides to pounce on our feet as we're sleeping. And he's a spoiled BOLD little sucker too...will come right up to your carton of ice cream, stick his head inside, and commence eating like it's his.

I've told Jay we can't keep feeding him the table food though. His little digestive system can't handle all that. So we'll see how it goes.

Wow, it felt great getting all that off my chest. Now to get dressed for work :/...