"Friender" Beware: The Pretenders You May Meet Online

In a world that is continually going the digital route, it’s hard to know who you really are communicating with on a lot of social networking sites. The majority of social networkers “friend” those they actually know in real life (though they may be no more than associates) but may occasionally accept a friend or two out of their complete knowing circle.

Much of the “friending” or “following” process is completely based on human nature curiosity a.k.a. nosiness. For example, you’re scrolling along and see the familiar name of a bitch from high school you faithfully rolled your eyes at, and her profile pic isn’t looking too good, so you instantly friend her ass like you’re trying to “see how she’s been since high school.” You really just want to see how much she’s fell off and drink from the pool of self-love at her expense. Fuck her. She’s a loser now with her 3 kids, and barely there wall postings. Plus, you notice her baby shower pics or any of her kids’ pics never show the kids’ father(s). Sucks for her.

But while you’re online snooping and “friending” everybody you come into contact with, it’s always smart to know that social networking sites have now allowed for people to live double lives vicariously through their cool digitally improved selves.

There are a few profiles you commonly run into while venturing out on these sites:

We Ride Tight Whips Everyday – Ladies, don’t fall for this trap! This guy seems to own every car out there based on his photo albums. Monte Carlos with fresh paint jobs, Lexus coupe with slick rims, a Box Chevy sittin’ high…. Is that a Maybach?! Alright stop it. Bruh, this city is too small for you to be driving these exclusive ass cars and go unnoticed. Matter of fact, didn’t I see yo ass waiting for the #31 the other day?!

You Know We Be up in the Club – Daaaaamn is all a dude can say looking at this chick’s profile pictures. Every pic, she’s fly and dressed to impress. Hair done. Check. Nails done. Check. Lips gloss poppin’. Check. It’s as if she’s always up on the latest trends. WRONG. This bitch just put up every going out pic she has. That’s the only time she looks decent. That fly ass dress? Oh, it’s not hers. Her girl will be rockin it next week. Oh, and the hair? Most of it’ll be gone too. Keep flipping through her albums. Why isn’t there a single pic of her just chillin? On her way to work or school? Hmmmm. What do she really look like?

Who Dat is? That’s Just His Baby Mama – Ok, this one isn’t hard to spot. She more than likely has no more than 5 pictures. 7 max. Most of them are blurry low quality bathroom pics taken on a cell phone, and a few pics with her and a baby manage to make their way into the albums. Her “info” and “about me” sections are pretty cut and dry. She’s clearly not on this FB shit. So why does she even have a page? She’s just playing internet police. She’s policing her baby daddy’s page. So ladies, if you get a random friend request from a bitch you don’t even know, chances are she’s “friending” you to see why you’re “friends” with her baby daddy. You might not even know the nigga but she doesn’t care. She’s on a mission to make every female friend of his hers. And she might just be bold enough to send you a message asking “who is u.” To avoid the drama, block her illiterate ass and keep it moving.

You Like? – These people are the real pretenders of social networking sites. Their status is constantly updated and usually it’s not about any damn thing important.

“Shoutout to all the single mothers that play mommy and daddy.”

“I just saved a bunch of $$ by switching to Geico”

“Just had a job interview, they talking bout $15/hr”

First of all, you don’t know nothing about single mommys or daddys, yo parents both are together and have been so for a long ass time and you aint got no damn kids. Secondly, you don’t even have a car, so how you get Geico? They insure bus passes now? Lastly, you know damn well yo broke ass didn’t have an interview nor do you have any interviews lined up. People like this are just addicted to seeing the lil “thumbs up” icon next to their status. They get off on that. Losers.

A yo’ You Comin Thru? - Social networking is now a marketing tool. I get it, it’s free and it’s fast. But annoying ass club promoters a.k.a. random niggas, have taken it too far. My inbox shouldn’t be flooded with invites. And I definitely do not wanna see wall posts IN ALL CAPS similar to shit like this:

***DON’T HIDE THAT P$SSY PARTY GOING DOWN. CLOSING AT CAPACITY, SO GET THERE EARLY! 18 TO DIP, 21 TO SIP***

Ummm. WTF is that?! First of all, why are you yelling on my page?! Secondly, go to school and learn how to be a real businessman. Have you ever seen a successful car salesman yell someone into buying a car? That tacky shit won’t get you nowhere.

Mz. Parker - We all got ‘em... a friend who’s Mama is like 10 years our senior, so she wanna be “down” and she wanna kick it with the girls. But here’s the thing Mom Dukes, you’re not our age, you’re not in our generation so stop it. So you log on, and see her ass done “friended” you. Damn. You don’t wanna say no, plus you can’t. Her own daughter can deny her, but you can’t. It’s just in the manual for dealing with your friends’ parents. You always have to be nice, even when they’re kids aren’t. But you also don’t wanna say yeah. You don’t need her ass embarrassing you, commenting on pics or blabbing your business via wall posts. What to do, what to do? Leave it pending, Her non-technical ass might not even realize you never responded and be content with her 10.2 friends. *fingers crossed*

I think I've had an Epiphany (and No, that doesn't mean I'm going to Tiffany's)

It’s been nearly two months since I’ve graduated and I have yet to land a full-time job in journalism. There’s been days where my spirit have reached all time lows and days where my determination and drive is in the clouds. It’s one of the most uncertain times I’ve had to deal with in my life. This is all new to me.
And I know everyone means well but until you decide to become a journalist, you will never know how I feel right now. There’s a difference between just writing and doing journalism. So, the suggestions that I “should look into PR work” are usually met with disdain and a possible “dumb ass” under my breath. Nor, do I want to do Teach for America, I appreciate the emails and the fact that “based on my extracurricular involvement, I’d be a great candidate,” but to be honest, the only kids I like are the ones I can be around for a few hours then drop off.
Oh yeah, the mentions of how “broke” I will be as a journalist, doesn’t mean much to me either. What most people don’t get is that, this is bigger than salaries. In fact, it’s bigger than life. As corny as it may sound, I honestly feel like this is what I’m on Earth to do.
Think about it. Journalists have a lot of power. Journalists can set the national agenda. Journalists can persuade people to feel a certain way about anyone or anything depending on the words they choose. (Why else would they make laws about what you write and say?) And often times, minorities—my people—are left out to dry by mainstream media. How many times are blacks portrayed negatively by the news? Too many to count.
But I’m looking to change that. I want to not only give black people a vehicle to continue to voice their concerns, but also make sure mainstream media is doing right by us. As a Christian woman, I think that’s what I was meant to do and nobody can change my thinking.
We’re all here on Earth for a reason and I believe I’ve found mine…

Mr. Officer

So... There I was cruising up 71 minding my own business. It was a little foggy but visibility was cool, plus I wear glasses so my vision's 20/20... At least I thought it was, but there was no way I saw the white blur of a Highway Patrol car, sitting in the trenches waiting to pounce on me.

And damnit did he pounce. He did a fuckin $102 pounce. Yes, I got a speeding ticket.

I tried to slow it down, which I managed to do. He clocked me at 81 mph... I could've easily been doing 100. For the past 4 years I've cruised up and down 71 and not a single ticket.

Looks like my luck has finally ran out.

Oh, but at least the officer was nice enough to put my license sticker on for me...

Operation: Grow Up

Being the baby in the family is one of the best and worst things. You get spoiled rotten and can get away with damn near murder but being the last of the Mohicans also makes it hard for everyone to let go. It’s still hard for them to grasp that I’m living with someone of the opposite sex (gasp!) and that there’s a good chance we may be engaging in more than just pillow fights at night… But hey, that’s life and we all gotta grow up at some point. And now my big grown up moment is days away… my College Graduation (cue choir).
First off let me say graduating from college is NOTHING like graduating from high school. So much is different about being 21 than being 18 and it’s more than just the freedom of enjoying the perks of alcohol worry-free. When I graduated high school, I knew I’d attend Ohio State and I knew I’d still come home on weekends and for breaks.
But this time around something’s different…
In fact, a lot of things are different. For one, I will more than likely never live with my parents again. There will be no “going home” on breaks and weekends because I will more than likely never have a “winter break or spring break” again. I’m about to enter the real world and it all seems surreal.
Just yesterday I was moving in the dorms on Ohio State’s campus horrified to find one of my roommates had already met a guy and took him back to the room. (Let’s just say that was the moment I knew I’d be living off campus real soon.)
Just yesterday I was learning my way around such a massive campus and was proud once I knew where all my classes were by heart and then disheartened when I realized how fast the quarter had gone by and that I would need to memorize an entirely new schedule.
Just yesterday I was still getting the O-H-I-O cheer down and getting used to responding back with the appropriate letters on cue.
Just yesterday I was learning what a pro show was and seeing where all the black people on campus liked to congregate.
Just yesterday I was discovering that icebreakers would run me $30 if I didn’t get in line before 10pm or was lucky enough to be Greek. I didn’t make the cut for neither so I soon gave up on icebreakers.
Just yesterday I was learning the techniques of the almighty college sport of beer pong… and that black people usually would pass on a game.
And just like that it’s all coming to an end.
I’m about to be an adult with real adult bills and real adult problems.

Welcome to the Real World.

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.