I’m not a racist, I let white folks use my bathroom! I do, however, have a preference for people of color in certain situations, specifically Black folks. There are limits, of course. When given a choice on nearly everything, I don’t care who does it if it’s done well. I don’t go to Starbucks and wait for the Black barista to make my latte over anyone else who is equally qualified at foaming milk and stuff. I do like to have Black doctors, though. Maybe because I haven’t been exposed to many over the years. Perhaps it was too much Cliff Huxtable. Could be now that my friends are dentists, ophthalmologists, anesthesiologist and such, I like the idea even more. I don’t know. Moving to a new city, I’m having to re-up on my roster of health care providers. I’ll probably just break down and ask my friends or coworkers who they see and roll with their recommendations (an excellent way to find a provider, actually) but at present I’m asking around to see who knows a Black dentist, primary care physician and a gyn.
Wait… that last one, gynecologist… that’s a special category. While I wouldn’t mind having a Black FEMALE gyn, I cannot have a Black male. I said as much on Twitter a couple of days ago and I wasn’t able to fully articulate why I felt that way when asked. I don’t even know if I can get my feelings about it across right now but I’ll try (and fail). Continue reading
I see now that it might be a couple of days before I can really get back into blogging. I started a new job on Monday so I’ve been getting acclimated there, as well as getting back into a 9-5 schedule. Do you know that I haven’t had to be at a 9-5/5 days a week job since last summer? Even that was an internship! My law classes didn’t even have that type of schedule. In Tokyo, we admittedly did more partying than studying or spending time in class so that wasn’t too stressful. This past summer, as the steady readers know, I didn’t have to be anywhere really. When doing the consulting/freelance, that was on my time for the most part. So now here I am trying to get back on track which includes getting up early, riding the subway to work, running errands after 5pm, heading home, attempting to make dinner, then studying for my MPA classes. Which reminds me, I haven’t even started this week’s reading AND my group members want everyone to turn in a draft of our project sections this Friday. Suffice to say that I won’t be doing anything for the remainder of the week besides work and school work. Womp.
I did go out to SOBs last night to see Black Sheep and Tanya Morgan rock with Revive da Live, a jammin’ ass hip hop band. It was awesome. TM already bangs but they definitely should try to hook up with the band more often. Hmm, perhaps they should do a reality show like Diddy. Making TMs Band?
Remember my crazy uncle? He had me put him on the phone with Dres from Black Sheep. Embarrassing but I did it anyway because I knew it’d make him happy. He wanted me to get an autograph too, but I have my limits. Besides, I had already gotten a pic with Dres for my Old Rapper Collection. More on that later for those who don’t know. LOL
Hey to all my wonderful, devoted, adoring readers (that’s how I see you in my mind, let me live the fantasy)! Been busy getting moved. Finally, step one to ending the Summer of Suck is complete – moving away from home. What was only supposed to be a temporary stop at my aunt’s crib turned into an entire summer of dealing with my crazy family. Patience is a virtue but I’ve never been the virtuous type so, ya know, I was bugging there. On to the next chapter…
I’ve moved to Brooklyn, Bed Stuy to be exact. Got me a roomie. While I was living alone in Philly, I had two roommates over in Japan (and two this summer if you count my aunt and uncle). So I can deal with the roommate situation again, especially because I’m sort of new to the area. I had lived in Brooklyn before, East Flatbush, but only for a short period of time. That has nothing to do with anything right now though, because I have no idea where I am really. So if you’re in the area and want to put me on to some stuff (or want to get wasted), let me know!
The move itself was possibly the worst move I’ve ever undertaken, and I’ve moved a lot (from NY to Chapel Hill to Carrboro to NYC to Cary to Raleigh to Philly to Tokyo to NY to BK). It all started with renting the truck. I reserved a 10ft truck which was totally sufficient but when I got to the office, they only had 16ft trucks available. Ok, not only was there more room in the back, but the thing was taller and significantly bigger. See specs here. Whatever though, bigger is sometimes better and I was getting the bigger truck for the price of the smaller one. Lesson #1: Trucks are not like Value Meals. It is not always a better deal to go for the bigger option. So I’ve got my buddy Ihsan with me and we pull out of the rental lot heading toward my storage unit all set to load up and drive to BK. I swear, not three minutes away from the lot, before I even get a good radio station on, I hear this loud ass crackBOOM! OMG! I turn to the right and there’s no mirror on the passenger side! I have somehow knocked off the damn mirror! Driving ahead of me, Ihsan must have seen what happened and I saw him signal a side street for pulling over. After determining what happened and taking a few deep breaths, Ihsan walked back a couple of blocks to retrieve the mirror. The plastic mirror casing thing was intact, but the glass was all gone. It’s important that I mention that I am a good driver. I have driven a 10ft truck about three different times in my life with no incident whatsoever. So you can imagine how I felt at this point. Continue reading
It’s September. That is just wild to me. 2009 has had it’s slow moments but I can’t believe fall is knocking on the door (even though a step outdoors in NY will smack you in the face with autumn). August/September always reminds me of back to school time. Except for maybe two or three years, I’ve been in school my entire post-pre-school life. How could I NOT associate this time of the year with hitting the books? This year is no different. Although I got my law degree this past May, I am once again on the degree-seeking path; this time I’m getting a Master of Public Administration degree. What is different this time is that I’m not going to school. I’m taking the online classroom option so that I don’t have to be tied to a classroom every week. Instead, I’ll be completing assignments with classmates spread around the country and meeting my professor for e-office hours. While I feel like not having to show up to class at a particular time and place is freeing, I know it is going to require more self-discipline to complete assignments by deadline and factor in time to study. The program is geared toward working professionals as well so there’s peace of mind in the fact that the professor knows we will all be doing classwork after a 9-5 gig.
So why am I getting this degree anyway? There isn’t just one answer to that question. I guess I just like the idea of going to school for some reason. I’ve always been the kind of person who used grades and educational accolades as a measuring stick for their life. While I might not always enjoy doing the work, I do like getting rewarded for what I’ve accomplished with my mind. Another reason for an MPA in particular is because I’ve always been involved in nonprofit and public sector work, in and outside of the legal field. It’s what I want to do but I know that I would like to take on high-level responsibilities in national and international types of organizations. While a JD is a great background, I have realized this summer that there are some other skills I want to add to my toolbox which should help in the future when I go after those lofty nonprofit/NGO positions. Finally, I just want a bunch of annoying letters after my name. Continue reading
I was reading an article from Double X by Emily Bazelon about how the recession is wrecking friendships…
Because of the downturn, friendships between two people whose Saturday night spending and overall class status used to calibrate precisely have now turned into trickier relationships between one person who still has money and one person who doesn’t.The rifts between friends created by the recession are a kind of collateral damage.
While I don’t 100% identify with the article, it did make me think of how some of my friendships have changed since my situation has changed. I won’t blame the economy for not staying in touch with friends but I know that since things have been shaky with me on the job front, I’ve intentionally let some friendships slide to the back burner.
You would think that in times of stress, frustration, despair and worry (all feelings one might have when unemployed or otherwise disillusioned), you would surround yourself with people you care about. People who care about you too. You’d want to spend all your time with your pals who can help lift you up, make you laugh and remind you of all the good things in life. Eh, it’s exactly the opposite. While I miss hanging out with my friends and talking to them on the phone or online, I’d just rather not bother. I don’t want to be reminded of the good times because frankly, it just reminds me of the life I used to have. So, I’ve been avoiding folks. Continue reading
I was in court yesterday and although I recently graduated law school I wasn’t there to represent anyone, nor was I there to chat with a judge or observe lawyers in action. I was there because I had to drive my mother. It wasn’t for anything too bad. She just had some tickets or traffic violations that hadn’t been paid and were probably some kind of violation of probation, I don’t really know because I didn’t really ask. Anyway, I go to take her and my uncle wanted to come along for the ride. We get there and it’s a small, town court in another county. Really small. My mom has to sign in and she sits in front waiting on her lawyer. My uncle and I pass through security behind her and for some reason unbeknownst to anyone, my uncle signs his name too. My mother yells at my uncle to quit writing his damned name because that’s the list that goes to the judge which he’ll use to call on the people there to go before him. With this knowledge, my uncle starts frantically crossing his n ame out. See, this idiot has been before this particular judge before and from what I could gather, they don’t have that great of a relationship. Plus my uncle thinks there’s a possibility that there could be a warrant for him in this county or some reason they’d wanna lock him up. Basically, signing his name down there was tantamount to turning himself in. What a retard, right? I don’t even know why he would volunteer to walk up in the courtroom knowing all of this ahead of time. Now, nothing happened. My mom got called, she and her attorney went up to the bench and got a continuance. Womp womp. I just had to point out my uncle’s stupidity for the gazillionth time. Continue reading
You can’t always go home. I watched Grosse Pointe Blank all the way through for the first time today and John Cusack said that when he realized his childhood home had been turned into an Ultimart. He was home for his high school reunion (incidentally, I’m on the committee to plan my HS reunion right now) and people were all weird and asking where he’d been. I used to think my reunion would be cool. Now I’m like ugh. I digress…
Who says you can’t always go home? People always say that. Or do they always say you CAN always go home? I don’t know. The former is what I’ve come to realize. This is the most time I’ve spent at “home” since I left at 17. I’ve mostly been away because I was busy. I went to a school 5 states away, sight unseen, without a single soul I knew for miles. After that, I moved around then went to school again, this time closer to home but far enough away to make visiting inconvenient. Then I left the country. Even when I was geographically far from home, that wasn’t the only reason I stayed away. I just didn’t see much of a reason to return. My family is small and not very close-knit. There were no holiday celebrations to return to. No one calling and nagging because I never come visit. There weren’t any cool or interesting things to do in my little city anyway, so why go back? Visits were spaced months apart and mostly lasted for a couple of days.
Now I’ve been here about a month. I think I’m dying inside.
Sure, that sounds like I’m being way overdramatic and maybe I am. I bet my insides are just fine. What I do know, and this is no exaggeration, one of my life goals from here on out will be to never spend a significant amount of time here ever again.
What’s so bad, huh? I guess the problem is two-fold: my family and the city itself.
I have nothing in common with my family other than the fact that we share DNA and we lived together (off and on) for the first 17 years of my life. While that’s a lot and enough to bind most people for a lifetime, I have found that it is not enough for me. You know how they say you can love your family but not like them? Yep, I’m there. I don’t care how much “history” we have together because history is ALL that we have. Let’s examine my family that lives in the area (this is to the exclusion of my father’s side and my family outside of this city): Continue reading