Censorship...

This morning I re-posted a photo with the following quote:

You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should've behaved better.

Initially I read it and kept scrolling, but something brought me back -- and then, truly, the last sentence really spoke to me.

I started blogging back in 2003/2004. Several of my friends jumped on the livejournal/xanga bandwagon really quickly, but I always wondered "who cares what's happening in your life and why do you want to put it on the internet, anyway?"

But the idea of keeping my thoughts and feelings about what was going on in my life spoke to me, and I eventually gave in. I've linked my first blog here, before, and talked about it in detail; it was certainly a labor of love. I held pretty tightly to the idea that ultimately, no one really cared to read my daily goings ons, but I didn't write to entertain. I wanted a record of my experiences and a place to be 100% honest.

By 2005, most of my friends knew about the blog and would read it every now and again. My boyfriend, at the time, knew about the blog as well. I'm not sure if it never occurred to me that he might read it or if I didn't think it would matter to him, but I began frequently posting about our relationship. Its' ups, its' downs -- mostly downs.

One night, he called me and we had one of the nastiest fights we ever had. There are things I realize now that I didn't realize then (like what it was that we were really fighting about) but I know that at the time, in the moment where we were arguing and calling each other nasty names and yelling, I was absolutely shocked that he was so angry.

I just didn't understand what would make him that upset when all I did was write down what we both knew had happened. I didn't quite grasp what was so jarring -- it wasn't as if he hadn't been there; it wasn't as if he was experiencing it for the first time or just becoming aware. I suppose, whether I knew it or not at the time, I truly learned that words mean things; words give power to things. For him, my explanation (and at this point, I no longer remember of what) of what happened made it real and it was that realness he wasn't ready for.

Over the years, I've found that trait of mine -- naming things -- to be a thing that most people come to hate about me. I don't do it to piss people off, I just know that words mean things and words have power (shoutout to @crissles for the inspo on that). Well I know that now in a very conscious way. I don't know that I knew that then -- back when I was running into this problem frequently -- in an above ground way. I think that at that time, I sorta looked at it like "it's not real until someone speaks about it."

It was and isn't about embarrassing someone. But words shine lights and give understanding to things and places that might not otherwise be understood. At the end of it, I'm really just trying to understand why people do what they do -- so I name what I see and look for feedback.

Just the other day I rubbed a friend the wrong way because I called her out on often wanting things to happen or be planned, but not wanting to plan them and then backing out when they've been planned. I didn't do it to embarrass her, but I felt like we'd beat around that bush long enough and it was just time to call a thing a thing.

However, if I'm truthful about it all, I admit that what's really happened is I've learned to censor myself. I save those "call a thing a thing" moments for when I don't see another way to make sense of something. I don't write about my friends very specifically as much as I used to. There are some friends (though they are so few -- fewer than I'd like) who don't know about this blog. I can't really hold on to that because all of my online lives have crossed paths in one way or another and anyone who wants to find where I spend my online time, can.

So I resist the urge to blog in detail about terrible decisions I've recently made (it's always easier to call a thing a thing for someone else than it is yourself), and I choose not to use words to breathe life into recent conflicts.

But maybe that will change again. It's true. These are MY stories and if people wanted better characterizations, then maybe they should've presented themselves differently in the first place; made different decisions.

Unapologetically

"There's a price you pay for living unapologetically in your own world..." -A. Smith

That (and variations of it) is a quote I like to remind myself of, frequently. In remembering that quote, I remember that I haven't worked so hard to be me just to give it up every time it gets a little rough to be "me."

When I was in the 8th grade, I started a new school. A new private school with a bunch of rich white kids. Being at a predominantly white school wasn't new to me, what was new to me was being in a small school that was steeped in rich white people type traditions.

To this day I credit my experience at that school with forming a large part of who I am. It helped me find my voice, helped me see my strengths and I got a great education, to boot.

But that first year kept me off balance. I was making new friends (something I hadn't had to do in a long time) and trying to find my place. At the end of the year, I went around to all the cliques of folks hanging out in the Lower School building, getting them to sign my yearbook. 12 years later I still remember one specific note a girl wrote in that yearbook. "I wish I was as sure of myself as you are of yourself."

Not too long ago I wrote a post about "seeing the great" and that was one of the first times I remember someone not related to me "seeing the great" in me. I was taken aback mostly because reading that note made me realize that I wasn't all that sure of myself, I was just really good at faking it.

At 25, I'm definitely more sure of myself than I was at 13, but what I know now that I didn't know then is "it's ok to be unsure." It's those uncomfortable and icky parts of me that I'm sometimes the happiest with, because I'm growing and learning how to change what I don't like and keep what I do, whether others like it or not.

Today I read this awesome post by Robyn of Skinny Black Girl. Go read it. I'm not summarizing it, because you have to read it.

Back? Hey!!


My favorite quote from this post is

"Because when you dedicate great periods of time to accepting and becoming yourself, you tend to feel a bit queasy when someone demands that you be and answer to something/someone else."

OHMIGOSH, AIN'T THAT IT??!! When I think about why long term committed relationships scare me just a tad, I know that that's it. I'm willing to give up a lot; who I am and what I am aren't among those things. I don't mean to insinuate that to be in a committed relationship I have to stop being me, but having just started to feel like I even have a slight idea of what "being me" looks like, having to consider giving that up just isn't something I'm ready to do.

This is bigger than not wanting to move, or having to share my space and time with someone, this is about me and my dreams and the experiences that are the sum of who it is I am. This is putting in work to get something and then being asked to give that something up. Some stuff I'm more than happy to give up, others, like this... I'm not there yet.

Further than that, though, I realize this is at the epitome of some of the clashes with other people I've been having. I woke up one day and decided I was done not being me so that others could be comfortable -- friend or not. Making that decision, in and of itself, is a whole thing. Now I have to live with it and I have to do so unapologetically.

I'm not sorry for who I am and it's not that I feel like folks want me to be. I just know that I've worked so hard to have myself that for right now, I don't have that to give up.

The Generation of Fake Reality...

The internet’s been abuzz these last couple of days with the story of Karen Klein, a 68 year old bus monitor whose experience with taunting was videotaped and posted to facebook by one of her taunters — a middle schooler.

You can watch the video and read up on it here.

When I first took note of this incident and took to twitter with my thoughts, someone asked me “why didn’t they put a more intimidating monitor on the bus?” I surmised that at middle school age, kids still, generally, revere adults. So simply placing an adult on a bus typically solves any behavior problems because kids fear being reprimanded. However it appears that in this case the kids had come to learn that she wasn’t to be feared and so they attacked her.

But that still leaves the question of why. Surely not just because they could, right?

In a separate article, one of the taunters’ fathers is quoted as saying he was surprised to find out his son had treated another human this way and I got to thinking…

Kids in middle school, depending upon the grades that exist, can run in age anywhere from 10 – 14 years old. That means the youngest kids in the building were born in 2002 and the oldest kids were born in 1998. They have quite an interesting frame of reference for popularity.

Go with me on this…

Read the rest here

365 Days to Change

A year ago I wrote these two posts: Owning Myself Pt 1 and Owning Myself Pt 2. Shortly after posting both of these, a friend of mine and I had a couple of conversations about the post. The general gist was that she wanted me to know she wanted to be the type of friend who I could lean on if I needed support and that I should seek out friendships that offered the sort of emotional support I discuss not having in those two posts.

After our conversation I had a separate one with another friend where I expressed that I while I felt like she intended to be genuine, I didn't trust what she was saying. From a general stand point, people often offer themselves up to be that rock for you but when push comes to shove, they don't know how to handle it. From a more specific standpoint, this friend has always been good for knowing the right things to say and then not following through. I've always been an actions person, so this has always made me wary of the feel good things she says.

365 days later I'm done with our friendship. I had a major event happen in my life that I told her was upcoming but she didn't acknowledge it because she neither read my email or responded to my phone call. It shouldn't have mattered, she knew the day was coming at some point and she never bothered to inquire.

That in and of itself is just a story of a person making some bad decisions. We've all done that and negatively effected people we say we love and care about. But I've got multiple stories just like that one and I'm determining that what I need to do is accept that I can be the best friend I know how to be all I want but if it's not reciprocated it only hurts me in the long run.

It wasn't that I didn't know these things 365 days ago, but today I'm ready to accept them because it means I'm on a path to better friendships that work hard to be supportive because they know it will be easily and readily reciprocated.

Top 10 of 2011

FINALLY...

Why did this take me so long to do? I almost just didn't do it, but you know, I had started compiling the list and I had to finish.

They're listed in order they were posted, earlier to most recent.

Top 10 posts on Diamond Dust from 2011

On Marriage
Gifts
Conflicts of Interest
Dream Slayers
Life Lessons and So Forth
Mismatched
Closure
The Sex Post
Everything I Know About Cheating I Learned from 90s Girl Groups
Making Time
Parenting and Why BSS Isn’t The Answer

How Race Slowed The Investigation of a Double Homicide

I love crime shows, especially crime docs like Forensic Files and Cold Case Files. Lately I’ve been watching a show on Netflix called Crime 360. In this reality show, cameras follow the investigation of homicides that are solved in part by using technology that allows crime techs to “freeze” a crime scene just as it is at the time of discovery for use later if detectives need to see the scene for some purpose after clean-up at the actual site has occurred.

Over the course of 2 seasons, the show was filmed in Richmond, VA; Indianapolis, IN; Rochester, NY and Cleveland, OH. I’ve been watching for several days now, about an episode a day, and I quickly realized that approximately 90-95% of the victims were of color (mostly black) and with the exception of one of the episode I’m about to discuss, 100% of the perps were of color (mostly black). All of the victims have been male and young and “in that life” as well as the perps. To a certain degree I believe I’ve continued to watch this show just to see how many black men are killing other black men and how much of that a television show would air.

You have to wonder how many homicide investigations they filmed and how they chose to air the ones they chose to air. Two episodes I watched back-to-back were almost completely opposite in every way, except for the city they were filmed in; both were in Indianapolis.

In the first episode we come up on a homicide of a young black male. It appears that a shootout between two groups of people occurred and the victim was shot during that time. He managed to run to a back alley where he collapsed and died. The investigation went just as several others had gone: the lead investigator rounded up any possible witnesses and questioned them, came up with a list of suspects, and continued to use physical and forensic evidence to help him guide where he looked for more information until finally he was able to determine who shot the victim.

In the second episode, we come upon a double homicide of 2 older white males. Both are retired professionals and we learn (needlessly, I think) that they are gay (homophobia actually runs a bit rampant in this show, but that’s a topic for another post). Just like the prior episode and most of the others, the lead detective gathers witnesses and uses evidence to figure out where to go next in his search.

Both episodes end with the arrests of the suspect(s) but one takes a bit longer than the other to solve and I believe it has to do with race.

Read the rest here

::Clears Throat::

I started this tumblr post because I was talking to a friend about how Diane Warren hasn't written a song I cared for since "Have You Ever" and it was supposed to just be a couple of thoughts... turned into several thoughts...

Check it out: ::Clears Throat::

The OTHER People in Your Relationship

This is an EXCELLENT series on the people in your relationships... I loved it. READ IT.

The OTHER people in your relationship Part 1: The Friendly Temptation

The OTHER people in your relationship. Part II: The Inner Circle

The OTHER people in your relationship. Part III: The Contenders

Blogger Spotlight

One of my really good friends, Jillian, has (re)started a blog called Letters to Mollee.

Go, check it out, leave some comments. :)

FYI: DC Event

If you have any interest in creating your own investment group and you live in the DC area, there's an event you might want to attend:

CAPITAL CAUSE POWER SESSION: Tips on Establishing Your Own Investment Group

Date: Monday, June 21, 2010

Time: 6:00pm

RSVP for FREE: www.ccinvestgroup.eventbrite.com

Limited Seating Available

EVENT INCENTIVE

2 Groups will win $200 each

4 Groups will win Busboys & Poets gift cards

*Group (3 or more)

GUEST SPEAKERS:

Corey Holeman – Former Manager of Vanguard Tax-Managed Growth & Income PortfolioHarold B. Pettigrew, Jr. – Founder, Alpha Investment Circle

Superiority Complex

This morning it occurred to me that I may be developing a “you don’t know who I am” complex. It’s because of where I work. Many people here have that complex. I work with/around some of the most powerful people in America. Some of these people have the type of clout to get folks fired from jobs they’ve held for years, just because they want to. One swift e-mail from some of these people could put lots of money into your organization, or strip it all away. As a result, many people here have a “you don’t know who I am” complex. That is, small gaffes like mistaking them for someone of “lesser” importance can piss them off enough that they find it necessary to prove to you who they are by somehow negatively impacting whatever organization or group you represent. I’ve seen it happen.

It’s a complex born of an environment that thrives on clout, capital (of the non-tangible kind), and typically manifests itself worse among people who’ve never had power before. Power is and can be a very dangerous thing. I’ve heard many people, like the recently convicted former Mayor of Birmingham, AL, say that power is a dangerous drug...

Finish this at The Outlook

Coping Mechanisms

After you read this, head over to The Outlook and check out my commentary on Lincoln Heights.

Damon did a bit of a rant today on This May Concern You about Steve Phillips' jump off mistress and the attacks on her looks. An excerpt:

If your significant other were to ever cheat on you, wouldn’t you want that other person to look better than you? Wouldn’t that make you feel better?

When it comes down to it, I wouldn’t care what the other guy looked liked or what he did. I’ll admit that there was a time — long ago — when that type of stuff may have mattered some. But at this point in life, it’s inconsequential. I see stuff like cheating and adultry in black and white. That said, I don’t think we should be paying that much attention to Hundley’s looks and comparing them to his wife, either (But this is America. She looks terrible and this is what we do).

Here’s why: Comparing oneself — be it looks, education, earning potential or social status — to the competition is one of the most frivolous things we do as people. When you start trying to understand why someone decides to go outside of his/her relationship, the primary place you need to search is the guilty party within the relationship.

Too often people get caught up in that game of “How could he go there with her when I am/look 20 times better than her?” when the question mark in the query should come after the word “there.”

Before futher commentary, first a story.

I've already mentioned that after our relationship ended, J began dating a guy. Go back with me...

It was about 4am when I heard my phone buzzing on the table, near my head. I hadn't long been asleep and my first instinct was to ignore, but something (probably the fact that I'm unable to ignore my phone, all the time) made me grab it. It was from J, whom I'd spoken to earlier. We'd actually had a good conversation which, at that time, had become fewer and far between. I had gotten off the phone because I had a play date with some friends. J asked me to call him back when I got in, but I warned him it would be late. "I don't care. Just call me," he responded. I had no intentions of calling him back, though -- I was playing a game with him then, that I would never play with anyone now. I needed to prove that I was getting over him (we weren't officially together).

Confused and concerned about why he was texting me at 4am (but assuming he was upset I hadn't called him back) I opened the text. It was 4 pages that amounted to, "I'm gay..." I re-read the text message to make sure I was reading it correctly and then I sorta went numb. I had no idea how to feel or operate, but anger wasn't an emotion I considered. While I was extremely upset that he chose to text me something like that, the rational side of me (surprisingly) was the louder voice and it wanted me to try to be supportive.

A 2 hour phone call ensued and it did not go well, at all -- the details are for another post, but in the end he called me names, threatened to kill himself and hung up the phone. The next morning I found out that he'd gotten into a car accident and was in the hospital. Within a month, his parents had sent him to rehab out in California and that began a whole new chapter of issues for us, the details of which, again, are for another post.

In the meantime, I had to figure out what to make of the fact that J was gay. He attempted in the early portion of our phone call, and in subsequent conversations and e-mails to convince me that everything had been real and that he did love me. I wanted to believe him, but I quickly began realizing that everything had not been real. So much so that some things J wasn't even sure what had been a lie and what had been the truth. I needed some coping mechanisms.

At first, I attempted to just be the bigger person. I tried to be supportive of him all the while trying to make sure I wasn't going to crack. Eventually, I gave into the bitter side of me that wanted to make J hurt. A year later, though, I still wasn't over it and so I resorted to convincing myself that no matter what he was saying or doing, I still had been a better match for him than his then-current boyfriend. I sent a friend to his facebook profile (I had long removed him from my friend list) to scope out who she thought might be the new beau. The e-mail I received had a picture titled "yuck" and the new guy was not a looker. I was actually surprised as he was nothing like what I imagined J might be attracted to (but then again -- how would I have known?) and so began a host of conversations with friends that, at some point, included the phrase "Wow, the least he could've done was get somebody better looking than you..."

That was the way I was coping with things I hadn't yet figured out how to deal with. I had put up quite the front for my friends, pretending that J's revelation didn't really shake me to my core like it had and pretending that I'd moved on; I hadn't. I was still trying to wake up from the nightmare. Going to them to just talk about what I was feeling didn't seem like a viable option, but laughing along with them at J's new boyfriend did seem to work.

Our coping mechanisms don't always make much sense, but I don't think they're supposed to. If we understood how to truly deal with the issue at hand, we wouldn't need coping mechanisms. In the long run, I really had to be honest with myself that no matter what I said, I wasn't over J. Despite his sexuality, I still had feelings for him (compounded by his inability to decide if he was really "just gay") and I needed to figure out if I could live with that or if I couldn't. That wasn't an easy thing to do, but once I did, I found I no longer needed those ridiculous and silly coping mechanisms. There was nothing to cope with.

Sometimes we need to reassure ourselves that we are "worthy" and there's nothing wrong with us and we use other people's shortcomings to do so. For the most part, we'd frown on someone doing that, but when it comes to being cheated on or left, we seem to accept it. However you have to feel better about yourself is how you have to do it, we seem to think. We should want better for ourselves; we should want to deal with issues so that we can move on. Coping mechanisms are temporary fixes for our ego; we should be looking for permanent fixes.

The Outlook

I've done 2 new posts on my other blog. ::eek::

(Black) Students Not Allowed

Tyler Perry

I Hate Your Boyfriend

I'm very protective of my friends. If I were honest, I'd admit that I'm overprotective of some. I've long said, and in fact did list as one of my "30 Secrets, 25 Random Facts" that I'm more protective of my friends than myself. All of this usually means that I'm the chick men hate. I have a lot of guy friends and they all tell me they hate their girl's friends and I'm the chick they hate the most (ok, they don't say the last part, but I know it's true). In fact, in recent years, I've attempted to not be so critical of my friends' boyfriends. I did a post on what to do when your friend is dating someone you don't like and I decided, in the end, to keep my mouth shut and, in the words of a clever commenter, "stay out of grown folk business."

Today, one of my most favoritest bloggers, OneChele did a post on domestic violence. Make sure you read it, her stats are incredible (and not in that good way). In the comments I shared about a friend who's boyfriend is a punk.

I met my friend Katrina the fall of my freshman year in college. She lived down the hall from me in our freshman dorm and we found out that though she moved away, we were from the same city, knew a lot of the same people and even had lived in the same neighborhood. We became fast friends. A few choice decisions on Katrina's end put her a year behind me in school. The summer after our second year she was in summer school and got to know the rising star on our football team; the quarterback. I had already met Patrick and I never got a good vibe off him so when she called to tell me they were seeing each other, I'm sure my reaction left much to be desired.

Fast forward a semester and she and Patrick are hot and heavy and living together in an off-campus apartment. Our schedules kept us from seeing each other quite as much, but through some mutual friends I began hearing that she and Patrick were having a lot of problems. I began making greater efforts to see her to let her know I was still around and she took the opportunity to try to help me get to know Patrick. There was something about the way Patrick didn't really look at me when Katrina was around and the way he never spoke to me when we saw each other on campus that left me with a bad taste in my mouth. One night, Katrina said to me, "Patrick says he thinks you hate him." I laughed and responded, "I don't know him enough to hate him." Katrina quickly said, "I know; that's what I told him." I could tell things about their relationship were amiss, but she seemed happy so I didn't see it as my place to make any comments.

Finally someone told me what was really going on: Patrick was beating her. He had broken 3 of her phones, left marks on her face and was intimidating her. I knew something had to be done when I found out one night she was hiding in a mutual friend's closet. A few days after that night, I was finally able to get ahold of her. We spoke and she confided in me that she was ready to leave. She hadn't been back home in a full day and when she left, Patrick had gone into such a rage that she said everything that could be broken in their apartment was. I grabbed my BFF and we drove Katrina over to her apartment to get her stuff since she figured he wouldn't be home. We pulled into the parking lot and she immediately spotted his car. I told her I was more than happy to go in with her, but she was afraid my presence would upset him. I told her that if she wasn't out in 10 minutes, I was coming in.

10 minutes later, she text me to say they were talking, he was sorry and she thought she should stay. Knowing the unfortunate cycle of abusers, I immediately got out of the car and went to the door. Katrina anticipated me doing that and met me at the door. While I was far from convinced that everything was "ok" I knew I couldn't make her leave with me.

The next week was full of similar situations. Finally, I grew tired of the cat and mouse game and I quit answering the phone. I told one of our mutual friends who Katrina was also confiding in that when Katrina was ready to go she could call me, but that I was done playing games. In the meantime, Katrina began confiding in another mutual friend of ours who she had had a "thing" with prior to Patrick. Joseph started giving Katrina money thinking she was trying to save up to leave, and he bought her another new phone when Patrick broke yet another one.

One night, the BFF and I returned from a road trip to find Katrina sitting in the lobby of our dorm. The three of us hadn't been together since the first night at her apartment and so we decided to go to Waffle House for a late night meal. I called Joseph and he agreed to go. We all met back up 20 minutes later and were headed out when Patrick came downstairs. Without a word, Katrina disappeared and it was all the BFF and I could do to keep Joseph from killing Patrick. That night, I decided I was really done. Katrina had used me, Joseph and the BFF. We were all done.

Fast forward to now. Katrina and Patrick have a beautiful son who I call my nephew and are not together but still living together. Katrina understands that if she ever truly gets ready to leave, I'm here, but until then, I don't care. Patrick knows, as I've made it clear to him that if I ever even THINK he's put his hands on her in front of their son, I got something for him and I will make SURE he gets it. That's the decision I've made for this situation. I have to say going through this has helped me understand better the thinking that makes a woman stay; I still think it's crazy but I better understand. I still hope that Katrina will get real about leaving him, but I know that their son makes that harder.

Domestic violence is one of those things I never thought would happen to any of my "strong, independent, black female" friends but it has and I've been surprised both at her and my own responses. I prioritize keeping my friends safe and I have to say at times I felt I'd failed her. Now I'm just focused on making sure my nephew grows up healthy and happy even with a loser for a father.

Fear Not

Those who follow me on Twitter know I'm here.

Those who don't may think I've abandoned it.

I'm trying to pull it together, but failing. Hopefully next week I can crank out some real posts (while, ironically, I'm on vacation).

In the meantime, check out the blogs I'm reading everyday.

This May Concern You
-Doesn't matter if it's serious or not, Damon/Monica always have a quality and thought-provoking open letter.

A Belle in Brooklyn
-Relative to most of the commenters, I'm a newbie, but I lurked for a while before I began commenting. Belle is a great writer and her posts are also very thought provoking.

What Would Thembi Do
-Seriously, I love Thembi. Her knowledge of black pop culture is vast and amazing and I love it!

Jack & Jill Politics
-Very smart people post and comment here. I've learned a lot just reading the comments and engaging in discussions.

Necole Bitchie
-Twitter usually feeds me enough random info about who's doing who with whom and for how long, but Necole is always there to fill in the gaps.

Tha Feedback
-I check out The IPS's commentary on songs I've already heard and video's I've already seen because I love it.

The Outlook
-Ok, it's my other blog. I don't update it regularly, but what is there is quality stuff. If you haven't read any of the (very) old posts, please do. It's worthwhile.

And as ALWAYS there are the archived posts here. Allow me to recommend:

High Standards
-Sometimes, I just can't take how much people want.

You Think Your Thoughts and I'll Think Mine
-Taking a walk in someone else's shoes never became so real.

Haters
-Definitely the most overused and misused phrase in mainstream popular culture. What is a hater and what do we do with them?

Girlfriend Friends
-Lets face it, girls are not easy to have as friends.

I Need To Get Out of This Box
-Let me be different.

Of course there's also the Series to catch up on (or just re-read, because if you're like me, you've forgotten half of it), and a handful of stories I may or may not have told over the last year.

Hope this ties everyone over until I can get my A game back on. I have much to share and much to tell and definitely a whole lot of thoughts to get out. I've been working on a lot of short stories, and I'm hoping to be able to share one with you in the very near future.

Black Students Stepping Up For Black Students

Check out my commentary on the Chanequa Campbell situation.

http://theoutlook.wordpress.com/2009/07/24/black-students-stepping-up-for-black-students/

#InHighSchool

Anyone who's not up on twitter... whatever. Keep moving.

Those who are, a)Follow Me and b)did you keep up with the #inhighschool trending topic yesterday? Luvvie suggested everyone post them on their blogs. I thought it was a great idea, so here we go...

#inhighschool...

-My nickname was Smash and I have no idea why...
My advisor in 10th grade (yes, we had those in my high school) was the head football coach. He started the name and the name stuck; it even followed me to college. I have no idea why he picked that name (he had a daughter with the same first name as me and he called her that, but it made sense... she played volleyball...) for me but hey, I've heard way worse.

-I learned that white people and black people are alot alike. But in 11th grade I learned they threw way better parties!
Some of the best parties I've been to, period, were thrown by white folks. I don't know what it is about black folks but we get uptight when it comes time to party. We get worried about who's gonna be there and how we look and all that to the point that we suck all the fun right out. White folks party to let loose and have fun. Don't get me wrong; I know black folks know how to have fun (hey, my family reunions are the business) but social gatherings of friends/people you kinda know are always better when the white folks throw 'em (maybe it's the free alcohol that entices me, I don't know).

- One of my friends said to me: "Don't think cause you're the VP I won't assassinate you"
I was elected VP of the student body for my senior year in high school (I later went on to become President when the elected President was relieved of his duties... more of that amazing white people partying....) Right after the election results were released, I was walking to class and passed this friend. All day people had been congratulating me and I was sorta getting tired of saying thanks (though I truly was appreciative). He probably said something to me and in turn I had a snarky response so he said that... 6 years later and I remember it and still laugh. In fact, I included it in the yearbook as one of my favorite quotes.

- I had my first drink
Self explanatory; by the time I got to college, I was all over the whole drunk thing.

-I had 2 BFFs and I thought we would all live happily ever after; then life happened
I spent my entire junior and most of senior year in a 3 person group that became known as the 3 Musketeers. Everyone called us that, even teachers. If we were seen without one (or seen alone) we were always asked "where are the rest..." Shortly after graduation, one of them quit talking to me. She wouldn't respond to my phone calls or texts and I quickly realized that she had washed her hands of me (as she had done our other friend a few months earlier). Even today, I can only speculate as to why. The other one and I still speak and remain close.

-I didn't always make it to school on time (during jr and sr years) but I always made it for lunch.
My mom was a little too trusting (but hey, my grades never suffered, I was popular and very involved so she clearly didn't make a mistake). She'd come into my room some mornings (I left, if I was going to school on time, before she did) and say "why aren't you up?" I'd make up something about having a free period or a late day and go back to sleep. I never skipped a full day (except for Senior skip day) without a good reason. I'd usually be on campus by the period before my lunch.
The crazy thing was we had to have re-admit slips to get back into class. You had to bring a note signed by your parent to the dean's office and get a slip to have signed by all your teachers who's class you had missed (this showed them that you'd been okayed by the dean for missing class). If I even bothered to go get a readmit (which I rarely did) the note was forged. Most of us had done that at one point or another and during graduation one of my classmates admitted this to the dean's assistant. Her simple reply? "I know." LOL.

-I was uber involved
My senior year I was student body President, held two senior positions in our community service program, sat on a panel of teachers and students (all chosen by administration), president of the largest club, and I'm sure I did whole lot of other ish that 5 years later I can't remember. I was OVER-involved is a more accurate expression of what I had going on, but you know what, I loved it, even when I was stressed... I felt super connected to my school and like what I said mattered. The flip side, though, is I was burned out by the time it was all over. In college I was a bum and by my high school standards not very involved at all.

-I used my position to get some of my friends out of trouble.
I also used it to get myself out of trouble. One story that comes to mind is when a friend of mine (he eventually became my b/f then my ex and I've talked about him ad nauseum here) was accused of mistreating one of the kids we worked with at our community service sites. At my high school, comm. service was a HUGE deal, so this could've had major repercussions. I went to bat for him and argued that the whole thing had been blown out of proportion and that I would monitor his behavior. He escaped the axe that day, but I wasn't around to help him out when it came around the second time. He deserved it, though.

-I fenced
Yes; I did.

-We had a big screen tv in the student center that was always on SportsCenter in the morning.
Umm... self-explanatory. All of us had to do an afterschool activity and for most of us that meant a sport (I did service)... so it was acceptable to the vast majority of us.

I Can't Tell You Why

I'm losing my blogging steeze. I'm going to blame twitter. I owe you guys about 3 weeks worth of Throwback Tuesdays and I'm late on this week's installment of The Series; we'll hit the reset button on all of that next week.

The Eagles -- great band

I Can't Tell You Why - Eagles
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I got my inspiration for this post from Damon at This May Concern You; I've linked his blog here before. He and Monica consistently come up with quality letters addressed to a variety of people, all of whom need a word or two to direct them in the right direction. Yesterday's letter was to "People Who Question Why" In the comments, I said:

This is reminiscent of a conversation I just had with a friend a couple of days ago. She kept asking me a question (”why” was ultimately the question) and I kept answering it, but I wasn’t giving her the answer she was expecting so she kept saying “you’re not answering my question…”

If you’re going to ask why, then be prepared for WHATEVER the answer is, don’t go fishing for what you hope it is or want it to be; that’s how mistakes happen.

Years ago, I remember someone telling me that one of the first rules of being a lawyer is never asking a question you don't already known the answer to. This makes sense; lawyers ask questions to make points, not to inform themselves. When I started thinking, today, more about the question "why" and why we ask it, it occurred to me that most often we ask "why" thinking we already know the answer. We're asking "why" to prove a point; sometimes to prove that what the other person has to say isn't true or that they don't know what they're talking about.

I mentioned in an earlier comment on this post that I have a friend who drives me CRAZY asking me "why." One of her pet peeves is comments with no explanation, but in turn she drives me crazy always needing to know the ins and outs of my thought process. One thing I can admit, though, is how she's shown me how often I make statements without thinking them through completely. However, I often feel like her inquisitions aren't simply her way of getting to the bottom of what I think, or understanding my thought processes. Sometimes she asks because she's sure I have nothing to back my statement up and she's ready to pounce.

I want to spend the next week monitoring how often I feel like someone's asking me to explain something, though they think they already know the answer AND monitoring myself to see how often I ask questions thinking I know the answer already.

Look What I Found

Shouts out to A.Red at Watch Your Setup...



Girl, sang that song, and strum that guitar. Can we PLEASE find more folks like HER?? I've been waiting on black folks to find their way to a guitar and a stool, a la India.Arie... well... since India.Arie.

Bless it...

What I'm Listening To

Like I need another weekly thing to forget to do...

But I like sharing music, so here are the Top 10 songs (in no particular order) on my iPod this week:

1.

When I Go Down (Album Version) - Relient K
2.

Never Really Ever - Maysa

Thinkin Bout My Ex - Janet Jackson
4.

All The Things (Your Man Wont Do) - Joe
5.

Why R U - MAIN - Amerie
6.

Buttnaked - Adina Howard
7.

Everybody Know - Sparkz ft Muddy Watters
8.

Pride & Joy - Jon B
9.

Kissing You (Remix) - Total feat Puff Daddy (This is the remix, I prefer the original version, but both are hot)
10.

Pretty Wings (uncut) - Maxwell