The Fiore Scott Files: Sometimes I'm a Mess

When life hands me lemons, I like to make vodka lemon.

When someone hands me a drink, there's a good chance I'm going to drink it. (Unless it's from a stranger. Come on now folks- that would just be stupid.)

That half empty or half full glass is just perfect for adding some whiskey.

And I'm usually the person finding events with a free open bar or drink tickets.

Okay, I think you get it. I enjoy a drink or three here and there.

That being said, sometimes I do stupid things with liquor. Sometimes I'm a mess. It happens to the best and worst of us. It's a part of adulthood. As long as I don't get arrested, shot, kill someone, get pregnant, or an std- I think I can get a pass here and there. I've watched my friends be messy and they've seen me be ridiculous or heard my messy tales. I'm glad these tales have gotten to be fewer and far between, but some days I just let loose a little too much.                                                                  

Monday night was one such night. Now I haven't done anything particularly messy since my birthday last July. I've been a good girl and have kept my drinking to a minimum and haven't gone hard like I did Monday night in a long while. Oh how I sometimes yearn for the heydays of college when I could consume copious amounts of liquor, wake up drunk the next morning, and head to class with the intention of drinking again that night. No more of those days for me. I could say that I'm getting old, but my friend would beat me, so I'll refrain.

Now this particular Monday night I found myself at a VIP event at a fancy ass steakhouse that I wouldn't dream of eating at with my current budgetary problems. But somehow, I've made myself likable, useful, and cool enough to get on the list for these VIP events and they always have free drinks and scrumptious finger foods overflowing. This particular night I was seeing and reconnecting with people I hadn't had the chance to hang with in months, was celebrating finishing my classes with As, and letting off some serious steam from work. Somehow I managed to have 3 cocktails, 2 glasses of wine, and a beer in a span of 3 hours. My motto of the night was: Fuck work tomorrow.

I had an awesome time and came home more drunk than I've been in a long time. However, that's when the fun stopped. Right before bed I felt the need to pray to the porcelain goddess. Of course, my body decided not to have a gag reflex when I tried to help myself along and I went to bed feeling like crap. I also woke up feeling like crap as well. I stumbled into the shower and than sat by the toilet for another 10 minutes hoping I could finally dispel this yucky feeling from my stomach. No such luck.

I managed to make it to the bus on time and get to the subway, but that's when everything went downhill. I thank God for McDonalds. I was able to make it to their bathroom in time to puke my brains out. I laughed to myself and thought: Hey at least this isn't pregnancy morning sickness. Lemons folks, lemons.

Anyway, I made it to work still feeling absolutely terrible. I spent the first 2 hours with my forehead on my wrist pad and being told on the phone that I sounded sick. I had brought bread and a soft pretzel with me to eat but I hadn't touched either. It was that bad. But around 10:45 I felt it. That need to get to the porcelain goddess and pay my respects and pay them now. I rushed along the back hallways to get to a working bathroom. I failed. I ended up puking clear liquid in one of the hallways. I thank God that it was a storage hallway where hardly anyone went, that I puked up all the water and liquor I had been drinking, and that I was wearing a black shirt. God took pity on me yesterday.

I'm never going to drink again. Says the girl who's going to a happy hour after work today.

I'm going to be real here. Yesterday was a messy ass moment for me. I puked in a hallway at work. MESS-SAY. Not a moment I'll forget anytime soon for sure. But it's also a moment I hope never to top.

I'm still feeling lousy at 12:34AM on Wednesday, so my body is still not happy with my decisions. I enjoyed my night a little too hard and I'm paying for it. On the bright side, I know for sure that I won't be drinking anywhere at that level anytime soon. Once in a long while is okay, but I know my limit and drinking 6 drinks in 3 hours is nowhere in the cards for me anytime soon. Messy living is bad for my health so I'll keep that to a strict minimum- once a year. Hey, what's a wedding reception without friends telling your family and friends about your most ridiculous nights.

What is Your Weakness?

As I cam into work today I had prepared myself for a long day of work and an even longer day of homework. I was optimistic that I could get what I had planned done and that everything would go well. What I hadn't planned for was to be assaulted by the smell of my weakness. One of the few things that has, in my adulthood, been both a treat and a curse. Twizzlers.

This candy has been an end to many diets. It has also been a comfort when I was particularly stressed. Either way it has been a weakness for me. I love this candy. It is undoubtedly my favorite candy other than Twix and Take 5. And even though I gave up candy for New Years, I have relapsed. Today I gave in. I got to my office and smelled the candy. My coworker who was eating the Twizzlers and had offered me some, I'm cursing her as we speak. JK., informed me that another coworker was selling the candy. I reflected on my resolution not to eat candy for all of 5 minutes. I weighed the pros and the cons. I could continue to work on my resolution to my personal satisfaction. But in the end I decided that I deserved this treat. Especially because I am planning on doing an all-nighter just to get some assignments in early. That and I know myself. Though I may finish the bag today (it's a small one, so sue me), I won't automatically go back to splurging on candy like I did last year. And because I shop for the household groceries, I have made it a rule not to go down the candy aisle, especially if candy my family likes is on sale. So far so good.

Meh. So I've given up on one resolution. I still have 7 more that I have been working diligently on. One bag or bar of candy everyone once in a long while won't hurt me. As long as I don't make it a habit. I just need to remember that Twizzlers (and my other favorites) are my weakness and that if I don't control myself I'll relapse something bad. It's all about will power and I hope I'll have enough to get through this year.

So ladies and gents. What is your weakness? And how do you handle it?

Teaching Reading is Fundamental

With pure luck, I was able to find another assistant teaching job in an after school program. The elementary school is located in a neighborhood adjacent to mine with very similar demographics. The area is almost entirely black, middle class with many Caribbean residents. The school itself is aesthetically appealing with artwork on almost every wall.

It is almost night and day when compared to the last school I worked in where the hallways were decorated with cafeteria trash, rather than student drawings. And instead of the disrespectful, volatile kids from before, the kids in my current school are disciplined and appropriately innocent.

I am impressed with the school so far. While the students' performance on last year's standardized tests were average, the parents and staff work hard to provide the kids with the resources needed to improve the overall quality of the school. This includes two after school programs, Saturday school and a variety of extracurricular activities.

Again, it is a fairly decent school. I'm happy. I did, however, notice something slightly bothersome. I teach  first grade. Out of a class of twenty four, having two or three who cannot read is not too bad. (Especially when compared to the two or three who could read in another low performing school I taught in briefly.)

I'm not familiar enough with curricula in New York City's public schools, but I wonder if kids are being taught reading fully in kindergarten or if educators are instead waiting until the first grade. I hope this is not the case because learning how to read is difficult, especially for children with learning disabilities. It is likely that kindergarten teachers have to compensate for those who did not attend preschool and as a result, have a lot of catching up to do. But doesn't this give more reason for us to start earlier??

What are your thoughts?

My Focus for the New Year

It's a new day my beautiful people. Happy New Year and be blessed!

This year has been surprisingly robust, sometimes challenging, but altogether a blessing for me. This blog has definitely helped me grow as a woman, intellectual, student, sister, daughter, and as a friend. I thank you so much for sticking around, taking the time out to read our thoughts, and just being involved with our growth as women. 

As my friend Zipporah let it be known; the term "resolutions" is like setting your self up to fail. So I don't have any New Year's Resolutions. I have foci. And yes that is a word.  Here are my Foci for the New Year. And of course, you all will be some of the first to know when I succeed and fail. It's a process and hopefully I'll be successful and able to maintain focus.

1. Have my own place. It's nice (and basically free- though I do help with bills) living at home, but I need some freedom. I'm a grown ass woman (I like to tell myself) and it's time for me to be able to fully do me. Because we all know that all of us hide some of ourselves from our parents. 

2. Lose 40 lbs. So I totally fell off my Kanye West Workout Plan and have just had a glorious time eating and drinking whatever I could get my hands on. And this started before the holidays, so I have no excuses. I could blame the treadmill that broke a few months ago, but I was just too lazy to continue my exercise regime. But I'm definitely going to get back on the horse. It's past time.

3. No soda or juice (unless as a mixer) or candy. Following my previous vein of thought; when I started my workout plan I had cut out soda (though I usually only drink diet anyway), juice, and candy. And it was going splendidly. When I started that again....well let's just say it was an epic fail. So I need some discipline. And since I will continue to need a drink here and there, I'll only indulge in the sugary goodness when I need to booze.  

4. Water, water, water [1]. I am the absolute worst when it comes to drinking water. I can go a full day without having a glass, easily. We have a purified water pitcher at home that has helped me with drinking more water. And I take a bottle to work with me every day. But I need to increase my intake but at least 3 glasses a day. Hopefully that will help with my headaches/migraines. 

5. Pay off at least a third of my student loans. This one is definitely a must if I hope to count myself as being financially secure. I am accruing more loans from being in grad school, so I need to be a nice dent into the loans I already have. I've been doing really well so far and hopefully I can continue.

6. All A's in my classes. Dear Grad School. WTF are you so hard? I mean I finished my first quarter with a 3.85 GPA, so I'm not doing badly at all. But damn. Grad School is hard. 

Well my loves, that's it. I think it's a pretty reasonable list of foci. I just need to discipline myself and plow through it.

[1] I know y'all remember that. Those were the good ol' days of tv.
Forgive the spacing everyone. It took me a good 2 hours to get to the final product and I am far from happy. Not sure if it is blogger, the computer, or chrome.


Do You Have Any New Year's Foci?? Any last year regrets?

Happy New Year!!! The Year in Recap.

Oh Hey 2012. What's really good?

Happy New Year everyone! 

We'd like to thank you for all of your support in 2011. You have been good to us. Look out for even more thought provoking, humorous, and just random posts. We hope we can continue to make you laugh, cry, and inspire some aha moments.

So here is a recap of some of our (and your) favorite posts:

1. Safe Sex Commandments
2. Occupy Wall Street- My Story
3. Mississippi Goddam!!!
4. Pig-Pen
5. Why I Hate Chris Brown
6. Personal Libraries
7. PSA for Black Mothers
8. Facing Execution: The Story of Reggie Clemmons
9. Troy Davis: The Death of My Brother
10. Fiore Scott Files: When You Touch My Hair (Part 1)

There's plenty more of course and we will definitely have more to blog about as the year goes on. Thank you for hanging and escaping with us.


What were some of your favorite posts? 

Why I Am Grateful for Obama's Health Care Plan

I've gotten into many online arguments with people, have seen posts and comments that have made me want to flip over tables, and have learned a great deal about the good and the bad about our current American society. I feel that President Obama's election to one of the most powerful seats of power in America and the passing of his Health Care Plan has brought out the best, worst, and downright evil in many people.

I have not always agreed with Obama's policies, and I am often annoyed and disappointed by our current government, however this is one policy I have supported since the beginning. This, admittedly, is primarily because I am one of those in-betweeners who found herself with healthcare after graduating college. I had been under my father's insurance as a minor and as a student, and I knew that as my graduation loomed, that if I didn't find a job with benefits, that I would be shit out of luck.

After graduating from college and being unable to find a job, I was tossed off of my father's insurance. On the one hand it motivated me to take extra care of myself so that I wouldn't break a bone (as my accident prone self tends to do at the worst times) or end up in the emergency room for whatever reason. On the other hand, I also couldn't visit my doctor when I got sick and I had to stop taking certain medications because my prescription ran out. I was only able to find a seasonal part time retail job for the Thanksgiving/Christmas holidays, which does not offer benefits. And even when they did offer me a permanent part time position, the cost of paying for medical insurance in comparison to what my biweekly net pay was, was nonsensical. And it was sobering talking to coworkers who (along with their families) didn't have healthcare because they just couldn't afford the expense. I had had an elitist view coming from college, and it was nice having my rose-tinted glasses knocked off.  

Examiner

However, under President Obama's Health Care Plan, specifically the Affordable Care Act, I am covered until I am 26 if I choose to remain on my father's plan. Luckily beginning in January of 2011, I was added back onto my father's insurance. This was especially auspicious since just the end of that month I found myself in the emergency room with a broken foot. Talk about good timing.

Of course the hospital made a mistake and never billed my insurance, instead billing me (and twice) for my treatment. Because of that I was able to see just how much I would have had to pay if I didn't have insurance. It was about $4000+ just for a broken foot. And for someone making only $7.25/hr at around 20 hrs a week (you do the math), paying that myself would have left me so far in the whole it's laughable.

But thankfully, because of the healthcare plan I was covered under my father. Sure he has to pay a higher premium, but it is so worth it in the long run. And I do my part to pay other expenses for my family, so it's not as if I'm a complete moocher- which is something many people seem to see us inbetweeners as. I've gotten into many debates with people over the internet who just don't understand why they have to pay for other's children to remain on healthcare. Often they blame us for higher premiums when they need to be blaming big business, the insurance companies. And a parent is not forced to add their child back onto insurance. It's optional, and those that do more than likely have no problem paying that premium.

I'm saying all this as the White House released the latest data regarding coverage of young adults like me. 2.5 million once uninsured young adults were able to hop back onto their family's plan, many of whom (like me) would love to be able to afford our own benefits, but can't for one reason or another. Even with my current part time job where I make a significant more amount of money than the minimum wage, I can barely afford the insurance costs per month (over $100) and my job is thinking of increasing the costs. I'm extremely grateful, especially with my up and down health, that I am covered. I think of it this way. I have being paying for social security since I turned 16. I will never see any of that money. Maybe they'll have another government program for me when I reach retirement age. Probably won't. With nearly 50% of Amers living in poverty or considered poor, I don't think it's unreasonable to offer some form of safety net for those of us transitioning into a tepid economic climate. It's not like many, if not most of us, don't want full time paying jobs with fantastic benefits. For many of us, it's just taken a much longer time than the baby boomers had to, to get such jobs. So I for one appreciate President Obama and am extremely grateful for the Affordable Care Act.I may not agree with all he does, but this one policy gets my vote.


AN: Please read this fantastic op-ed regarding one person's own experience with the new healthcare plan and having a pre-existing condition.

The Fiore Scott Files: Oh Snap, I Want A Man

Guys and gals. This feeling just literally smacked me in the face. My gut clenched and I felt a twinge in my neck.

It's official. Ladies and gentlemen. I want a boyfriend.

Cue world ending.

Now people who know me know I'm not being melodramatic. I'm not the type of girl who needs a man or usually even wants one. I may go out "man-hunting" every once in a while, but my feelings can go either way. If I meet a guy and we dance all night, that's cool. If we exchange numbers I may gush over it with my friends for a bit. But then I usually just let it go. I'm usually in a period of hibernation. Sure sure, I'm not totally turned off. I'll flirt with a guy in a second if necessary. But at the same time, I haven't really cared one way or another if I started dating a guy or not. I definitely appreciated the fineness that were the multitude of male specimens that happen to pass my view. But now I don't want to just look. I want one. I want a man.

I haven't had this feeling in almost two years. Yes you read that right, two years. It's been that long since I've been involved with someone. Long time ain't it. Well, not really. Before that it had been 3 years. I mean, I just don't really crave relationships. I don't search for them and if it happens it happens. But I usually don't care one way or the other. Even one of my guy friends brought it up two days ago, asking if I had any prospects. I responded that I didn't and that I wasn't really interested because of work and graduate school. But then I have my periods, like now, where chillin' and focusing on other things just isn't good enough. And I won't just settle for flirting and moving on. It's go time. I want a man.

Let the Fun Continue

We've come a long way since the beginning of this blog. Us 4 ladies started this blog back on May 2, 2011 with the idea of given our thoughts a place to breathe. We wanted to create an enviornment where we could escape for a bit and hopefully allow others to escape with us. So far so good I think.

With 36 followers, 100 posts, and 10966  hits (as of the writing of this post)- we are well on our way to doing something pretty big. And I couldn't be happier. This blog has been a great motivator for me. I've kept up on current events, have continued to build my friendships with my friends, have matured extensively, and have learned a lot about my friends I didn't know before. It has been a blessing and I hope you will continue to enjoy this blog as much as we do.

Look forward to more humor, political rants, throwbacks, self-reflections, ruminations on life and friendship, and just whatever comes to mind. And if there is anything in particular that you want us to speak on or if you have some comments please feel free to email us sisterescape@gmail.com. And if you don't already follow or subscribe, get on the horse! We're fun ladies and you'll enjoy it. 

The Fiore Scott Files: Retro Video Games (Part 1)

I was talking to my father about how my 14 year old brother hadn't been able to play his video games since he began high school just two weeks ago, when it hit me, I've been playing video games since my motorskills where advance enough to do so. Now I'm only 23, so I've never even seen an Atari up close, but I'm been appreciating the gamer side of myself since my father
bought us our first system, the Sega Genesis.

I can only remember good times with this system. I would sit next to my brothers for hours just playing Terminator, Sonic the Hedgehog, Madden '93, and my favorite Decap Attack. And yes I did just spend 30 minutes searching the internet trying to figure out the name of my favorite game. I enjoyed it that much.


Sega Megadrive Collection Trailer Decap Attack by objectifsega

My older and I also realized that we only ever where able to complete Decap Attack, while the upper levels of Sonic 1 and 2 and Terminator always alluded us. But at that time, for most of us "gamers", a term that I didn't even recognize I fell under until a few years ago, winning and progressing through all the levels of a game was never the main goal. It was about having fun. My brothers and I never had a problem being stuck on the casino level in Sonic or getting killed on the 2nd level in Terminator. We just started over.

Those wonderful days lasted for many years until the advent of the CD and the creation of the Playstation.  Man how we loved our playstation. Of course my father bought it for my brothers, seeing as I was a girl and didn't do such things, but I considered it mine because I enjoyed playing it as much as they did.

And we definitely played the hell out of system. Especially when we saw just how awesome and upgraded the games where compared to our Genesis after playing the demo disk. I just know you remember those. Those disks contained my first taste of playing a first player snowboarding game, Crash Bandicoot: Warped, Spyro, and Gran Turismo 2 (that wasn't in an arcade). It was also our first time experiencing such gorey video graphics with Mortal Kombat Trilogy.

Now if those aren't some beautiful but crazy graphics, I don't know what is. Seriously people, who thought that up?

The number of games we had drastically went up from the 5 or so Genesis games we had to at least 30 Playstation CDs. I could never get into the Final Fantasy franchise but I also wanted PaRappa theRapper. I would let me brothers spend hours playing Madden or Tekken and wait for them to allow me to get on so I could play my Crash Bandicoot. And God forbid if I ever won against my brothers in Mortal Kombat. It was on then.

But I can't forget about my favorite excuse to leave the table at Denny's, Arcade games. Whenever I got a chance, at it was rare, to go to an arcade the one game that I always made sure to save quarters for was the Simpsons game.

I was usually either Bart (everyone wanted to be Bart!) or Marge with her vacuum. This is the only arcade game I was able to beat, I'm pretty proud to say. And it took many tries and many quarters, but I was always entertained.

And then there was the fighting arcade games: Marvel vs. Campcom and X-Men.

I would jostle with the boys to get a joystick so that I could play. I was usually a female character in both games (I'm looking at you Chun-Li and Storm) and was able to hold my own against anyone who played. Yeah I mostly button-mashed, but it did its job.

I've been gaming since I was 7 and at 23, I'm still plugging away on both consoles and computers.Clearly, my gaming started early and it still has shown no signs of stopping. But that's a story for Part 2.  

What were your favorite old school Genesis, Playstation 1, and Arcade games? 

 

.....wassup...

So, you know, I haven't been around. Made big promises and what not and did not follow through. Shit.. I"m on my grind. I'm trying to be a medical anthropologist and what not...

On the real I'm sorry and it will happen again.

On the bright side, here are some soon-to-be posts to look forward to:

1. Oh, word? [About my...interesting...date]

2. How to Cook For One [one of my delicious and healthy dinner/lunch recipes]

3. How to Tell If He's Gay

4. Girl, Should I [dudes to say yes to...dudes to just run from]

Excited? Me too.

The Fiore Scott Files: When You Touch My Hair (Part 1)

I had already planned on writing this piece because of my recent and past experiences with hair touching, but my sis lemonswithsalt sealed the deal for me when we got into a conversation about people touching our hair. We are both natural haired sisters (as are Zipporah and Le Chele) and with the diverse styles we craft for our coiffure, it isn't unusual for us to get asked about our hair or for it to be touched.

Now everyone knows that many black sisters, no matter how their hair is coiffed, have issues with random people touching their hair. Of course, there are some who are of the school of thought that it isn't that big a deal. But lemonswithsalt and I agreed that it's an invasion of personal space for people you don't know or people who don't ask, to just touch our hair. For her, "it's not about race. Or exoticism. It's about sitting on the train, and someone sitting next to you, reaching over and touching your hair without even speaking". And as someone who's had these very same experiences, I couldn't but help agree.

When I visited some friends who were living and studying in Paris back in 2009, I first really experienced this hair touching phenomenon. My friend Katy and I were staying in Paris for a long weekend and though we had walked everywhere in the city for the first day we were there, the first night we went out we decided to try the trains. While sitting on the train a group of older drunk white men sat down catty corner to us. And the one closest to me automatically started speaking French to me and touching my hair. I immediately started shrugging his hands off and replying in Greek to "not touch me" and to basically leave me alone. Of course, him not knowing Greek and me knowing only a little French, there was a language barrier [1]. But he continued petting me and I staunchly ignored it. My friend wondered why I didn't get up and move and I responded that I didn't want to attract anymore attention or have the group of men following us.  

When we finally met up with my guy friend who was staying in Paris, I immediately told him the story and he refused to believe me. He had been living there for over 6 months by that point and had never witnessed or heard of such a situation, so it was definitely beyond his scope that a random man who just start touching my hair. However later in the night when we had stopped along a street to try to figure out what to do before the end of our night, I had a run in with another random Parisian who was enamoured with my hair. As we stood on the sidewalk I watched from the corner of my eye as a drunk couple came up the street arguing. However I was totally caught off guard when the man stopped behind me and just stuck his hand in my afro and started basically feeling my hair up. He was drunkenly staring at his girlfriend who was staring wide-eyed and annoyed back at him, while I stared wide-eyed back at my friends. And my guy friend was flabergasted. He had never seen such a thing and finally believed me. 

Since then I've had other situations where my hair has been touched by random people and I usually just shrug it off. Sometimes I find it annoying, sometimes I find it humorous. I don't make too much of a big deal, but at the same time, people need to learn that it is an invasion of space to just go up and touch someone's hair. You wouldn't want someone just going up and touching your face or your purse. In the same way it's really not okay for random people to just approach a girl or guy and feel up their hair. Sure you can fully appreciate the beauty of the coiffure but if you want to touch, at least ask. You'll find that many of us don't really mind, especially if you ask.   

But then again, if you approach me the right way, you can touch my hair all you want. But that's a story for part 2. 

But ladies and gents, tell me the deal: How do you feel about random people touching your hair? Does it matter if they ask or not? 

[1] For some reason I didn't use English, but maybe that was because I didn't want to fully showcase my identity.

Grateful

There are have been some days when my faith in Jesus was sorely tested. Going 7 months without any job prospects after college while trying to deal with my lack of independence while living at home, was an especially rough patch, but I always told myself to keep going on and that 2011 would be my year. In my darkest hours I even got on my knees and poured my heart out to God for guidance, strength, comfort, and motivation. And He has done exactly what I needed over and over again.

I know that I'm not the best Christian. I rarely read the Bible, don't go to church as often as I should- and when I do sometimes I'm stingy with tithes, do many things that are foolish, overindulge, am stingy and self-absorbed, often have a lousy attitude, and don't speak to God or listen to Him nowhere near as much as I'm supposed to. And I have the habit of going to Him when times are rough but not giving Him His due when I'm doing well.

Yet through it all, God has continued to bless me, comfort me, and provide for me. He has always come through. And this past weekend it took some extremely trying events happening which forced me to sit down and confront the fact that I had been living too fast and not making time for God. I realized that God had really blessed me this year, giving me two jobs, helping me get into graduate school, blessing my family many times over, and giving me many other untold blessings. And I have definitely taken them for granted.

I'm glad I am able to slow it all down and put things into perspective. I've been making a lot of moves in the right direction but also been messing around quite a bit. There's nothing wrong with enjoying life to the fullest, but I realized that I might have been enjoying some of the wrong things. I can only thank God that he put me in a difficult situation that allowed me to fall back and get myself right. In the words of TI and Kanye, sometimes you have to drive slow.

So today and everyday after that, I'm going to continue to thank God for really sitting me down and helping me remember what I need to do to improve myself and really make things happen for me.

Tasting Danger: My Foray into Craziness

After a second night (though not sequential), since I've turned 23,  of getting "Girl you are crazy!" type texts from friends, after telling yet another ridiculous story, I've realized that yes maybe I have taken a few steps too many off the deep-end. I've increasingly put myself into what could easily be dangerous situations with men, though I have had the luck and blessings not to have had any problems.

I've realized that since college, I've had different spurts of living on the edge. And right now I've been busting out.

The first guy I was involved with I met off the internet [1]. I was 18 and foolish. One of my older college friends had told me about her experiences with dating/being involved with men from the internet, and I was interested, especially because I wasn't getting any attention from the people in my tiny college environment. I wanted to feel pretty and the attention he lavished me did just that. But looking back, it was a really dumb and dangerous thing for me to do. To just meet up with a random guy I had met over the internet and talked to a few times on the phone. And to make matters worse, I didn't meet him at a public place. I met him at the bustop near his house and we ended up hanging out at his place. 

WTF was wrong with me? Naivety at it's best.

Luckily everything worked out and we ended up being involved (I refuse to call it dating) for a couple months after that. But it was still a really dangerous thing for me to do. He could have been a rapist, could have drugged me then kidnapped me, or other perfect scenarios for Law and Order SVU/CI. I was blessed not to have any of that happen. And I admit that after our affair ended, I realized I needed to be a bit more discerning about such situations and stopped any dealing with internet dating. Sure it has become more mainstream, but you still have to be careful of the weirdos/possible rapists. Sometimes it works, many times it doesn't. I'd say after that that I had a solid 4 years of safe living. I focused on my studies and getting out of college. Sure I partied, and hard at times, but I still was pretty safe...mostly [2]. But lately, I've been letting loose and losing my mind.

Maybe it's because I've finally started my adult life: having graduated, recently being accepted into graduate school, and having started a permanent job [3]. Maybe I'm feeling like I need to have a bit of fun before I get loaded down by work and classes. Or maybe I'm really getting sick of living at my parents place and this is my rebellious side kicking in. Probably a mix of all three, but either way, I've been putting myself in ridiculous situations and (thankfully) living to tell the tale.

My latest bout of ridiculousness dealt with my hanging out with two random ass guys I met on the subway one Friday night. We struck up a conversation and I found out that one was from the area and both had studied here. They were partying in a different area and I wished them luck as I went my separate way with my friends. I ended up doing BYOB bowling with my friends (best idea eva!) and then leaving before them with the intent of getting home before it got to late. (Oh the curses of living far away from downtown.) Who do I happen upon in the subway? The two random guys. Mind you they had gotten off at a different stop, yet here they were. They called it fate. I called it ridiculous. Yet and still, when they coerced invited me out for drinks, I took a gamble and said ok. It was 11pm and I knew I needed to get home because it would take more an hour at least, but I decided to take the plunge and be crazy for the night.

We ended up going to a bar I was familiar with and having a good time. They ended up fighting for my attention, which really boosted this girl's confidence. Having two guys fight over you is pretty awesome. They even offered to pay my taxi home if I stayed later with them. I politely declined but did accept the offered subway fare home. On the way home it fully struck me just how ridiculous and crazy I was. I had gone off with two random guys I had just met to a bar. They could have taken me anywhere, but they didn't. They were extremely nice and I wouldn't mind hanging with them again. But I had been blessed that I hadn't been in danger and that I hadn't ended up on the evening news.

Maybe this isn't dangerous to you guys. And maybe you're giving me the side-eye for hanging with some randos. It happened and it was fun. Will I put myself in such another situation? I don't know, but hopefully I'll use my head either way. Maybe sometimes you gotta step out and be a little crazy to experience a bit of fun and a story to tell your friends. So yes, maybe I'm a bit crazy.

Side-Note: This is just such an awesome song I had to put it here. It kinda has something to do with what I was saying. Anyway, give a listen.

[1] Y'all probably giving me the side-eye right now. Don't be acting like you've never signed up for OKCupid. Actually, this site was Blackplanet. THROWBACK! 
[2] Totally ignoring my ridiculous sophomore year. 
[3] Boss status.

Top 5 thing to do when you move to a new city

(shout out to bjork's awesome video for wanderlust I first saw it when I was in Amsterdam... Quite trippy)

Plan on moving to a new city? Awesome!

Already moved? Even better!

I have been known to have the travel bug and I will definitely say that I got it from my mama! When she was a bit older than me she went on a tour of western, eastern, and central Africa with one of her girlfriends for a few months. Also, due to the nature of her job, she has been able to travel quite a bit. In fact, my whole family travels zooms around and country hops for work and pleasure. Point is--- I love to travel and my fam does too. it's in my blood.


For people who feel nervous going away, for 2 weeks or even a few months, here are 5 tips to relieve some of our anxieties about going to a new place.

1. Find an ex-pat blogger.
I did this before I went to Prague because I thought, damn will I be the only black girl there?.( The answer turned out to be no!) I found another black woman from my city who had permanently moved to Prague. After some email back and forth we agreed to meet up on a sunny afternoon shorty after I arrived. Even though her and I hit it off and still keeping in touch some years later, it was grew to meet up or even contact her to hear about her experiences being black, female, and in central Europe.

2. Continue your hobbies
Whatever shit you like to do a home, you will probably still like those things when you're abroad. For example, I enjoy watching independent films, so I found an independent film theater with Eng. subtitles. Continuing your hobbies when you're away from home can make you feel more comfortable. Plus it's the perfect way to make new friends since you already have a interest.

3. Find other ex pats
Now this one is tricky. Being the die hard anthropologist that I am, nothing thrills me more than meeting new people. Of course, everyone is different but... ,eg. I don't go abroad to meet other Americans. If it happens that's cool, but it's not my focus. However, expats are awesome to have around when you are homesick and need to find peanut butter! Also, many expat websites have listservs with meet up information, so if you're feel it you could always go and chill with a group of them.

4. Figure out your barrio
This one appears obvious but I'll explain just what I mean. Yea, you should figure out where the police, nearest metro stop, grocery and liquor stores are.... But you should also check out the flyers for parties etc. In your local cafe. This will you give you and idea of what type of people go where and which scenes and subcultures are happening in your area. You never know!

5. Date. Date. Date.
A lot of people sleep around when they are abroad. Can't blame them, you can create the perfect no strings attached situation because the chances are that you will move a thousand miles away and not see the person again. Another option is to date as much as possible. In either scenario, just stay safe and protected < no really, shits real. Anyway, dating, even when super casual, is a great way to see the city from a local's eyes.

Fellow wanderlusters, is there something major that I'm forgetting? What are the first things you do when you move to a new city?

Salute to Me: Happy Birthday Beautiful

Yes I just saluted myself. Yes I did just call myself beautiful. And yes it is my birthday [1].



As I'm typing this I've just finished putting my funfetti cake in the oven and am preparing to head to the hotel room Zipporah Pearce, lemonswithsalt, and I booked for the night. We are going to go out clubbing somewhere or maybe even stay in and have girl time. I just know liquor and ridiculousness will be involved. You jealous Le Chele?

Today is my day, dammit, and I'm going to party like i have a job there's no tomorrow. My theme song for today is this lovely throwback. This is my jam and it is The Jam. Ain't it funky.

As we slowly make our way to 5000 views and continue to gather subscribers, I want to thank all of you readers out there for taking time out to read and comment on our blog. I get warm fuzzies everytime I see the hit counter go up and that people actually appreciate what I have to say. So thanks. Us three ladies will definitely toast to you guys and gals tonight, so I hope you will keep escaping with us.

I gotta give a shout-out to my lovely parents, siblings, uncle, grandfather, cousins, friends, and even to the randoms who sent me facebook well wishes. I wouldn't be what I am or where I am today without their support, pushiness, love, friendship, and presence. I'm 23 years young. I don't feel any older and I even lost a few pounds. I'm headed to grad school in September and I have high hopes for a job. Some money in the bank and a cake in the oven [2]. So life is good.

Happy Birthday to all my fellow Cancers out there (like my lovely lil bro who woke me up with a kiss on the cheek). And Happy Birthday to me. I thank God for another year and for all the blessing I'm sure will come.

 Have a lovely day folks! Peace!

AN: It's been a slow few weeks. It's the summer so the four of us are out enjoying the weather. So the posts have been few and far between. But bear with us and me. We'll be back with more to say soon. And look out for a special 5000 hit post!

[1] It's also Ringo Starr's birthday. So happy birthday Ringo!!!
[2] Not to be confused with bun in the oven. Ain't no babies coming from over here anytime soon without a ring and my own place. Can I get an amen?

The Day I Showed Skin

I love my body. I love clothes. However, like virtually all women, I don't always like how my body looks in clothes. There is nothing particularly profound in this. Women's bodies are diverse causing certain clothing to appear differently from one person to the next. The lady who can rock the hell out of skinny jeans may look bulky and awkward in a pencil skirt. It's the way of the world.

Yesterday, I realized that I was opening a new chapter of my life. Matching my slowly fading purple jeans, I wore a black jersey top with embroidering in purple, blue and red. However, it wasn't the bogus pattern that caught the attention of my boyfriend and honoree Sis, Miss All Ass. The uneven bottom edge of my shirt never met my jeans, revealing my bottom torso. Not at all tight, the shirt also slouched, leaving my left shoulder exposed. My skin was out!



I always enjoyed playing dress up but was always dressed modestly. My tops were never cut really deep and I only wore skirts with stockings. Belly shirts??? Girl please! I could never.

That is until yesterday. Yesterday I stepped out with my skin out and you know what? It feel good. I used to despise summer clothes because they were typically revealing. It was a hassle to try covering up my chest and shoulder acne with thick make up. I'm slender but without a perfectly flat stomach, I considered loosely fit shirts a better look for me. But the top I wore yesterday showed my imperfections and I did not feel at all uncomfortable. When Talib Kweli told us to put our hands in the air, and my shirt then raised leaving all of my midriff exposed, my friends did not care. And so didn't I.

For my Hero, HAPPY FATHER'S DAY

So I was searching for a song that would be perfect for this post. And it took all of 5 seconds for me to pinpoint just what song I wanted as a tribute to my Daddy and to all those Daddys and Grandaddys (I'll even big up the brothers and uncles too) of the world.

There are plenty of ballads sung about mothers but not too many sung about fathers. Fathers just don't get the praise they deserve and we definitely need to celebrate our fathers better. Mother's Day gets a whole big hooplah but all Father's Day gets is a sale on ties and tools. I can only speak for the father I have and the fathers I know, and the vast majority of them are some of the best men I know.

My own Daddy has raised up 5 children, 3 of which are growing men. The 5 of us are well on our way to doing and being the best we can with what God gave us. There have been days were my daddy would come home exhausted after working multiple straight days of double shifts just so that he could pay our school tuition. My daddy and mom have worked their butts off to ensure that we know what our priorities should be: God, family, education, and then success. They have both slaved away at their jobs to secure our academic future at the best private schools and have sacrificed fixing our home, buying better cars, taking vacations, and even buying clothes for themselves.

My daddy is my hero. I learned to cook from him. I learned how to budget my money. I learned sacrifice. I learned to put education first. And I learned love.

My father is the hero in our house and the cornerstone. He is the quiet strength that I seek out when I'm weary or need some comfort. He is my mentor, my idol, and my daddy. I could never ask for a better father.

The song I chose as a tribute was one of the songs that has always stuck with me. I've watched this movie multiple times with my father and have listened to this song many times with him as well. This is one of his favorite songs and since I couldn't find it anywhere in playback form I had to make my own video.

This song sums up for me the strength my father embodies. A strength of mind, strength of body, strength of spirit, and a strength of will. I thank God for him and for all that he has done and will continue to do.

I send best wishes out to all the fathers, grandfathers, uncles, brothers, and men, especially those working their hardest to improve the lives of those around them. Take time out to wish someone a Happy Father's Day, even if you don't know them. Happy Father's Day to all the men doing the best they can for their families. I pray that your sacrifices and love guide you all to success and happiness.

Happy Father's Day!

Photo complements of this blog.

What I'm Gonna Do Now?

Yes. This is exactly what you think it is. Another birthday shout-out.

You're probably thinking: How you not going to post for a week then come back with this? Yet another birthday post, can you get some new material?!

Well my dear friends. Life has been calling. I've been drinking. Taking care of my family (no kids yet #pause). And playing Cafe World on facebook. I've been busy. Sue me.

Jokes.

Actually this was going to be just that, but my girl lemonswithsalt beat me to it. So I decided to sit on this post for a bit to figure out just what I wanted to say. And then it came to me.

One of my best friends, the very wonderful Zipporah Pearce, is leaving me to go back home.  Sure I'll see her when I decide to hop on the bus and take that ride to her home area. And sure I'll be able to talk with her through gchat and email and comment on her facebook posts. But she won't be here. And I realize that I both haven't taken advantage of seeing her enough and have become very comfortable with her being in such a close distance to me. Because the reality is, I don't have many black friends in my area. It's probably ironic because I live in one of the metropolitan cities in America (sorry no brownie points for guessing which one), and there is no lack of black people. Yet the vast majority of my black (and Latino) friends live in other cities. And that poses a problem.

Because sometimes you just wanna hang with black people.

Now don't get me wrong. I love love love all my friends and I love going out with all of them, no matter who they are or what race they are. I wouldn't be friends with them otherwise. But sometimes you just want to be with who and what you know best. And for me that is with my fellow black people. Sometimes I just want to grind up on a dude in a hood ass club. Sometimes I want to chill in a funky lil dive bar which has the DJ spinning O'Jays while I'm sipping on some E&J and diet Coke. And sometimes I just want to talk about my issues with negroes who make the rest of us look bad.

Sure I could bring some of my white friends to that hood ass club, and I've done so before. It was fun and a new experience for them. But if I want to crack on some black chick who has on a tacky ass weave or rant about some racist ass picture about some black woman I saw earlier that day, my black friends (especially the three ladies I'm doing this blog with) are clutch, because more often than not we are on the same wavelengths about these things. That's not to say my other friends wouldn't get what I'm saying or vibe with me, but there are many things in black culture that only other black people can truly vibe with. Just like there are things my white, Asian, Indian, etc. friends can't really talk to me about. That's just reality.

And my reality is setting in. I will admit to having only 1 or 2 black people in my area that I can really vibe with. A part of it is my fault as I have just fallen off with people, but the telephone line works both ways. But at the same time I realize that its time to get out there and rebuild bridges that are in shambles and create some new bridges along the way. I'm going to take care of the few friendships I do have with the blacks in my area and reach out to those who I've connected with before. And I'm going to invite my other friends to things that I might have before only invited my black friends to. And I'm hoping it will replace the hole Zipporah's leaving.

I'm going to miss Zipporah's presence but I know she's not too far from me and that our friendship will remain strong no matter the distance. I'll still be able to vibe with her even if not in person. And I know it will be messy when we do get together. I'm probably going to tear up when I see her for drinks next week but I wanted to shout her out for being that fantastic friend I could vibe with. Here's to you homie.

 

Y'all know I had to put this in there. Now this is some good music to vibe to. The stuff of legends.

Color me Sweet

Hola Folk-

I started my morning off pretty well- I read one of my favorite blogs, www.verysmartbrothas.com, ate oatmeal and had the most delicious iced coffee. To really top things off the topic of today's VSB post really resonated with me. Long story short, Champ suggests that we find new ways to praise Black women and not just recycle the word 'strong.'

C'mon we've all heard it: Black women are strong or she's a strong Black woman or even, damn she strong!

VSB's point is that by using strong we are subtley referencing qualities that are perceived as non-feminine. And you know what? I agree. I am tired of hearing a Black woman called strong for things like, always having to defend herself + her people, always being the one to pick up the broken pieces when everyone else has given up, or always having to be the one to make sure everyone else is OK.

In addition to strong, how about sweet! Just think, when is the last time a Black woman in the popular media was called 'sweet'.

New Words to Associate w. Black Women:
sweet, warm, kind, endearing, calm, humble... what are some other 'new' adjectives you would assign to Black women?

Wrong, again?!

'Wrong, again?!' That is the phrase I would recite as a I scanned through all the red smeared across every single graded math test I received from a teacher. I can't even count how many tests I have crumbled up and stuffed into the recesses of my backpack, hoping that I would forget them. No matter how I excelled in the humanities, social sciences and extra currix math always felt like a constant hurdle. But I have to tell the story from the beginning...





Picture it: It's 6th grade math and we are all sitting and watching our brilliant black, male, attractive, fit... math teacher write problems on the board. While going over the lecture he would randomly quiz students in the class. I'm sure you have all experienced this random quizzing teaching method. And if you haven't, then consider yourself lucky. I sat there, smacked by puberty and awkward, hoping he would not freakin' call on me. But, of course he did. All eyes shot to me and in my nervousness I lost track of my thought and blurted out any answer that sounded like it just might be right. Well, I was wrong, again.

My teacher sighed with disappointment and I tried to sink as deeply into my seat as possible. To make matters worse, a kid who was more popular than me snorted, 'stupid' from across the room. From then on, I vowed to mentally resign from every future math class. I repeated over and over to myself that math was just not something I was good at and I should stop trying. No really- I stopped trying to be good at it or even to learn it. I just checked the frack out and spaced out in math classes for the next 6 years.

And now I deeply regret it. You need math for freakin' everything. You need math to understand music, you need it to figure out a humane tip for a waitor/ress, to figure out if you're being cheated out of money etc. You need math to live in this society. And it's a skill I just don't have. More importantly, it's a deep source of shame. I feel that by not being mathematically competent that I have failed my parents by wasting a portion of the money spent on private tutors to supplement my private school education.

So what am I going to do? I am going to take some math classes at a community college - that's what!

Will I be scared? yes. Will I feel stupid? At times, yes, but those moments will pass. Will I wish that I weren't there? Heck yes. But you know what-- I really want to gain more confidence in this arena and I no longer want to feel math-handicapped!

Wepa!