Love Don't Live Here Anymore...

People walk in your life & back out again... Everything happens for a reason though. But why? Why can't I live my life full of the bliss portrayed everywhere else but in my sad little world? Love is a strange thing. It can build you up & tear you back down in seconds. 4 tiny little letters made into a powerful word, a word paired with 2 others that can be a dramatic sentence when heard. But how real is this so called concept of loving another and giving them your all. Taking the good, the bad, and ugly regardless of anything because you love this person. I've loved. I've been loved. I've lost love. So is love really worth all the tears, heart aches, pain? YES. Love is pain and through all the rain & pain there is joy. Joy with having someone love you for you, all your flaws & mishaps. Joy knowing that when you wake up in the morning, somebody is waking up somewhere thinking of you, too. Love is the joy felt when you're with your significant other. The joy of love gives you a sense of purpose. Though we will never fully know our purpose on this earth, being in love gets us one step closer to realizing this destiny. Once in love, we live our lives for one another. We laugh harder & cry harder with our significant other in mind. Nothing but our significant other comes to mind. Love is an instinct of humans. We live for love, we die for love.

Why Michelle\'s Hair Matters

Why Michelle\'s Hair Matters

I had to touch on this one... It really annoys me how black people find a way to put one another down ALL THE TIME. Now we have some people claiming that Michelle Obama is "conforming" to white society by having relaxed hair instead of an afro...

Two years ago, I made the decision to go natural. Not because I was on some "trying to get in touch with my inner roots/black self" but because I wanted to give my hair a break from chemicals.

The beauty of black people is that we come in so many different shades and our hair comes in so many different textures. My sister has what we call "good hair." Wet it and it gets curly and cute. But I was cursed (or some may some blessed) with a thick grade of hair. Wet it and it gets tight and hard to comb aka not cute.

I remember getting my first relaxer in like 4th grade and I felt so different. I no longer had to get a hot comb to my head everytime I wanted a nice hairstyle. Let's be honest, there are just things natural hair won't do.

Nonetheless, after years of relaxers I decided to give my hair a break. My hair wasn't growing much and it just seemed less of a hassle to go natural. It was nice to go swimming and not care or be able to buy 88 cents shampoo knowing that no matter what my hair would still come out the same way even if I bought $88 shampoo.

But now, I've decided to go back to relaxed hair. Why? Because at the end of the day it's easier. Hands down. Sure, it's a lot more expensive but there are days when I just want to jump up and go. Natural hair doesn't give you that option.

Whether Michelle Obama's hair is relaxed or not (no one really knows, maybe she gets it straightened) I think that doesn't matter. It's not about wanted to be "white" or "black." It's about personal preference. And I can attest to that. Not every woman can deal with the rigors of having natural hair. I myself included.

Say it ain't So

Ok. I get it. Newspapers are dying. Journalism is changing. Global warming is happening before our very eyes. Oh, by the way the entire world is going to hell.

But of course, being the stubborn hard-head I am, I refuse to succumb to the "the world as we know it is coming to an end" ideology.

Therefore, I will not give up my dreams of writing for a paper. No, I don't want to do PR work and no, I don't want to write for a trade publication. I want to do real journalism.

I want to be the outlet for many people to share their stories when no one else would listen. I want to be responsible for letting people know what's going on and explaining various political decisions to them in plain English.

This is what I want to do. This is what I plan to do. This is what I WILL do.

And I refuse to be told otherwise.

Dear Steve Jobs, Thanks for iPods

This one will probably have all the old heads shaking their heads in disgust.... But hey, this is life through MY eyes...

I consider myself to be a tech savvy person. Sure, I text like crazy & can do so with my eyes closed, sometimes FB status updates are the highlight of my day and I listen to music on a daily basis on my iPod. Yes, that lovely little wonder that the smart guys over at Apple created has saved me plenty of times.

How so?

Because those white earbuds give a clear warning to people, "I Can't Hear You!"

It's exactly what the older generation is complaining about... "young folks don't know how to communicate properly anymore."

Think about it. How likely are you to approach someone vehemently bobbing their head to their tunes, oblivious to the world about them? Very unlikely. And you know what? I love it.

For the many times I've been on campus about to be approached by clipboard weilding Earth Lovers, asking "Excuse me, do you have time for the environment," my iPod has saved the day.

I mean, what type of question is that anyways. Who doesn't care about the environment so much that they don't have time for it?

What I am I supposed to say, "Uhh... No I don't have time for the environment. In fact, I drive a gas guzzling Hummer that I always fill up before 6 p.m. since I travel a ridiculous amount of miles for no reason throwing trash and toxic sludge out of the window and plowing through gardens to destroy plants..."

But instead of saying all of this I can just let my iPod do all the talking for me by simply walking pass appearing to be so caught up in my jams.

Or better yet, ladies how about when you know a guy is going to try to approach you... even though you know he shouldn't be trying his luck even on a good day-- a good day meaning holding a box of Lucky Charms and three bouquets of three-leaf clovers? But for some reason the brother has heart.

Not wanting to be rude, you turn that iPod up on full blast mode & keep walking... Making him "realize" you couldn't hear a word he said.

Now I know there are some that say, "Why not just talk and say you're not interested instead of using your iPod for a cop out?"

And that's exactly what it is... a cop out.... and a lovely way to use technology.

**Insert evil laughs here**

Anxiety Attack

Approximately 24 hours from now I will be in Tampa, Florida with some of the biggest names in journalism at the National Association of Black Journalists Convention. For most people a convention of writers would seem like another big item on their "Things to Avoid" list, but for me this is a dream come true. This is the opportunity of a lifetime for me to network with both already established journalists and those up & coming like myself all in one place, totally at my disposal.

I doubt I sleep at all tonight. Anxiety is taking over now, my nerves won't settle down. This trip to Florida will be the turning point in my life. It will separate the real journalists from the wannabes. Time to put the game face on.

As they say it's a long way to the top and I see this trip as a big boost in my climb up that mountain to success. I feel as if so many doors will open for me after this trip. Sure, it was expensive--took me to eating turkey sandwiches, crackers, and water for lunch for the past few weeks, just so I can save every penny possible--but I'm highly optimistic that this will be well worth it.


Wish me luck.

Hate

My heart burns black
From
Loneliness.
Isolation
Runs through my
Blood
As I stare at your
Broke picture frame.
The frame that told
Broken
Lies.
I look at the smile
That was once
My
Sunshine.
It's
Now
My
Cold
My Hate
But worst of all
My
Defeat.

Temptation

Temptation came to visit me last night.
Fine & young--a real black man that knew how to treat a black woman right.

First, he kissed me long & hard. Then he kissed me short & sweet.
Totally submissive, I simply laid there entangled in the black satin sheets

All while knowing he was too much for me to handle.
But I loved him with a passion, I was in love with my midnight vandal.

I tried to not let him overtake me, I tried my best.
But the sexy twinkle in eyes had gotten me undressed.

His distinct voice whispered sweet nothings in my ear,
Telling me of all the things a woman would want to hear.

Once our lovemaking session was over,
The love in my eyes was gone and I became sober.

Temptation left as quick as he came,
Leaving me alone, naked and ashamed.