you can’t always go home (a long one)

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):

Neo-Buppies

(n.) \nē-ō-bə-pē\
What: Upwardly mobile urbanites conflicted by the challenges of keepin’ it real
Habitat: Conference rooms, ‘hoods
Pet peeves: Hackneyed Diddy-esque excess

I had to laugh at this piece in Radar Magazine. Every issue they feature a new “species” and this month it’s the Neo Buppie. According to writer Brian Marsh,

Jazmin & Neville

New York’s young black urban professionals are definitely upping their game. Rejecting the ghettoizing BET stereotype of the bling-flossing, Cristal-drinking playa, a subtler breed of brothers (and sisters) are deftly navigating their way between outer-borough neighborhoods like Bed-Stuy and Fort Greene and the minimalist conference rooms of Mahattan’s creative professions. Meet the Neo-Buppies. More Kanye than Ghostface Killah, they combine pedigreed educations, lefty politics and ‘hood savvy to infiltrate mainstream ad agencies and publicity firms but still go out of their way to retain the respect of the gully crowd back on the old block. Pulling off their tricky style – a cake-and-eat-it-too mélange of young Hollywood labels, crossover brands, and slyly understated ghetto flourishes – isn’t easy (you try keeping 4,000 fashion codifiers straight!), but it’s paying off. With Barack Obama poised to become America’s new baller-in-chief, dapper rapper-turned-actor Common dropping a new CD, and clean-cut crooner John Legend embarking on a new tour, this brownstone-dwelling, socially conscious crew is taking the nation by storm.

Funny and eerily accurate, save the repeated references to “ghetto” which I find annoying and simple. Not to mention how Marsh gets too hyphy with the hyphen. Whatever. Get your Neo-Bup on by copying Jazmin’s and Neville’s steeze.

Artichokes & Asparagus: Musings on the word “bourgie”

I stumbled across this article from Racialicious a little while ago. If you’ve ever read my “about me” section here, you’d know that all the bourgie-talk that’s tossed around here is pretty tongue-in-cheek. Still, I thought it would be interesting to view parts of this article and comment on its take on the word “bougie” (I favor keeping the “r” in the word) among Black folk.

Bougie* by Design

by Racialicious Special Correspondent Latoya Peterson

“No one ever means bougie as a compliment. It’s never ‘Oh, you’re so bougie!’ It’s ALWAYS a negative trait.”

I had asked one of my close friends about being bougie and how the word is perceived in black circles. Depending on how it is used, bougie can almost be a curse word. Bougie is a stand in word for being racially removed, for pretending to be superior, for being out of touch with “true blackness.”

For many, being hit with a bougie label comes at random. Maybe it’s because you speak English with tight diction and clear pronunciation. Maybe it’s because you prefer off-broadway to the “chitlin circuit”. Or maybe it’s because someone doesn’t like how you dress, how you wear your hair, or your attitude.

Be Bourgie – Support the Arts

What’s bourgier than being a patron of the arts? Well here’s your chance to support a real artist in achieving her dream and moving forward with her career. Check it out…

My name is Andrea Chung and I’m a recent 2008 graduate from the Mt. Royal School of Art at the Maryland Institute College of Art. I’ve recently been awarded a 2008-2009 Fulbright Scholarship to do research in Port Louis, Mauritius, located in the Indian Ocean. Although the Fulbright gives a stipend that covers the cost of living for myself as well as my husband, they do not cover his airfare, which is currently nearing $4,000 roundtrip. Our date of departure is February 2009 and we will be in Mauritius for 10 months.

I will be raffling off some of my artwork in hopes of raising the $4,000 so that my husband can join me in Mauritius. We would appreciate any and all donations.

… By donating you are automatically a part of the raffle. I will raffle off 5 pieces of artwork on August 1, 2008. Each entry is $10. If you donate $50 your name will be entered into the raffle 5 times. All winners (as well as all those who’ve donated) will be notified via e-mail on August 5, 2008. (this site only let’s me do 25 days at a time but I know that realistically it will take longer than 25 days to raise $4,000)

ARTWORK: You can also see my artwork at www.suite17d.com

To DONATE: Click HERE.

Please support people…post it on your blogs and everywhere

Box O’Wine?

Earlier in the week, my girl asked me if it was pretentious of her to think it was odd that a box of wine was served at a bridal shower she attended. I told her that yes, it is indeed bourgie to turn your nose up at boxed wine, but that I understood. I mean, WHO does that? I asked a couple of questions to figure out the severity of this bourgie no-no: Was the event outdoors? Apparently, boxed wines are good for outdoor events like picnics and the like. No need to carry a corkscrew. No need to worry about disposing of the glass bottle. She said no. Were they trying to serve a lot of people in an economical way? Again, no. Well in that case, why not just get a few bottles? 

I have never, ever had a sip from a box of wine before but I’ve been thinking on this for a little while and did a bit of research. Box wines cost less, keep longer and open easier than your regular glass bottle. They hold more wine than a single bottle, are light and recyclable, are resealable, chill quickly, and won’t break if you drop them. I guess I should probably relax my stance on boxed wines and try out one of the brands below. First, I need to get over my apprehension of even carrying one of those squares up to the freakin’ counter! I’m a DRINKER… I have a reputation to uphold! 

Top 5 boxed wines according to Epicurious.com