Truthfully Speaking

What Not To Be

Dear You,

I want to thank you for the years that you’ve given me. I want to thank you for the time that you’ve taken to try to mold me into what you thought I should be. Thank you for realizing that I have a mind of my own, and that I will not allow anyone to have a negative influence on my life. Thank you for showing me who you really are – because now, I know EXACTLY what NOT to be. There is a song whose lyrics say:

When I die what will they say about me

will the work that I’ve done

be enough to help someone…

I’ve been thinking a lot about the legacy that I want to leave behind when I’m gone. I think it’s ridiculous not to think about how you might impact your world. Our actions and decisions here on Earth can influence many. When I die, I know just what I want people to say:

She was nothing like you. She was genuine. If she liked you, you knew it. If she didn’t like you, you knew it too. She was never rude and disrespectful – but, she would keep her distance if necessary.

She was nothing like you. She was reliable, honest, and hard working. She didn’t believe in using people. She would rather do the manual labor herself than to make someone feel like the “help.”

She was nothing like you. She cared about feelings, understood and empathized with people dealing with struggle. She would always take the time to walk in another person’s shoes.

She was nothing like you. She had a mind of her own. She refused to compromise her value systems. When something was unfair, she spoke up – disregarding the backlash.

She was nothing like you. When she hurt someone, she would stay up all night trying to figure out a way to heal the ache. She believed in always going to bed with a forgiving heart. The worst thing in the world, she believed, was to die without ever saying, “I’m sorry” to someone she hurt.

She was nothing like you. In her professional life, she was strict and demanded the best. Her work ethic was commendable. She would arrive early and stay late. She was a master of her craft who believed that mediocrity was just not okay.

She was nothing like you. She learned from other peoples’ mistakes. When she saw what not to be, she took the cue.

You are what not to be. You are who I never hope to become. You think you’ve created a drone that will follow you blindly off of a ledge, but I see you. You are the epitome of everything I never want to be.

I hate everything you stand for – and I vow to be every great thing that you are not. I just want to thank you for showing me just who you are, so that I could make certain that I don’t become a mere reflection of you.

Becoming a fat girl

I apologize to anyone that might be offended by this entry – but I’m just tryna tell my story. It’s a story about something that has become a struggle for me over some years now. It’s a story of how a skin and bones thin girl athlete became a very (in)active overweight woman. It’s been really hard for me to balance my life. With the pain from injures I endured when I was younger to having to find the motivation to do anything after coming home from a hard day of work, I’ve become very lazy. Where I once would take on a challenge, I now concede defeat early. I’m truly displeased with my body image right now.

It even affects how I dress and my willingness to go out and be social. As a former (and arguably current) tomboy, I am not really into “dressing” up. I really don’t see the significance of it – except that we live in a society that is so caught up in image that you don’t have a choice but to conform. I dress relatively plainly to go to work (left the dress up job for something that allowed basic Banana, Limited, Ann Taylor, etc type slacks and a sweater/shirt). But, sometimes, I want to really get back to wearing “my style” of clothes.

It’s been quite a struggle to get back the body that I need to have – not even the one that I used to have. Sometimes, I can’t believe how much I love the things that are not good for me. It’s not like I’m overly destitute. My household income is far above  the Middle class line (even though I sometimes feel poverty stricken). I can afford to eat good foods from good supermarkets. I tell people all the time, “I didn’t get fat off of eating sweets, I got fat off of just eating food.” I don’t emotionally eat. I don’t fit the typical fat kid prototype.

So, what is my problem? I think it’s simply laziness. If you’ve ever been a skinny person that never had to work out, you’d understand where I’m coming from. Generally, skinny people don’t have a great deal of concern about getting fat because they know that it’s not going to happen. So, they eat what they want, workout infrequently, and oftentimes develop bad food habits. And, in the event that they begin to gain weight, they are not initially concerned because they know that it will be easy to lose. However, when they gain an exorbitant amount of weight and have not developed healthy habits, then it becomes difficult for them to figure out just how they will lose that weight.

I’m really needing to get to that place where I will begin to make better decisions in my life. No, if you saw me you wouldn’t call me fat or even thick. But, I do know what a healthy weight range looks like for me. I’m working on multitasking better. Neglecting working out and eating in ways that are unhealthy truly doesn’t benefit me. So, I’m starting again on moving toward my goal. I think I’m going to make Fridays my update day. Let’s see if I get back to where I once was…You can join me on my journey there.

Where is the Love

So my father got kidnapped. No! Really, he did! My little sister found out during a moment of sheer boredom. Perhaps, your life is far more exciting – but, it was one of those moments where, when you have nothing to do, you google your name to see what type of e-prints you’ve left in the webosphere. And because she has one of those names that automatically identifies our ethnic background, google connected her to our deadbeat dad. I’d be lying if I said that I’ve not googled his name in the past to see if he’s left any e-prints as well. Turns out, he has. He’s the dean of … at a University in …. I just know and will always remember him as my deadbeat father.

The thing is, in all the hatred indifference that I harbor for him, I’ve become really soft as I’ve gotten older. When I first heard the news, I kinda chuckled – “He got kidnapped? Waddayou mean he got kidnapped?”, I thought. In my mind I was thinking about how Karma really can be a b. I have a couple of people still on my “I can’t wait for karma to unleash its nasty head and cause them to crash and burn” list. I’m talking about people who just really just suck swallow! But, I digress.

After a little while, I started to really feel bad for what had happened to my father. To think that he could have been dead, and we would have never known was just kinda wild. In Nigeria, apparently they’ve been straight kidnapping folk and demanding large amounts for ransom – and sometimes, even after receiving the money, they’ve still killed the folks they’ve kidnapped. And the thing about it is these kidnappings are looking like inside jobs. Imagine someone you know and consider to be a friend of yours hiring a hit man to grab you up and then contact your family outside of the country demanding half a million dollar ransoms in American dollars.

It makes me begin to really sober up about what’s going on in this world of ours. From disasters to random acts of violence, nothing is sacred and no one is safe. My father was released after the kidnappers received a negotiated dollar figure. Some of the folk that were kidnapped with him were killed. He was starved for nine days and beaten pretty badly. He’s 65 years old. I’m fearful of this world that we are living in. It just gets more and more violent – and for nothing.

We have to raise our children better. We gotta teach love and stop all this violence. I remember how I thought I was safe growing up in the hoods of Brooklyn, NY. Now, I’m scared to walk at dusk in the streets of DC. On a blog where I love to share more funny and everyday parallel life types of posts, I felt compelled to stop and share what has been on my mind for the past few days. Lets start working together to make our world safe.

I’m stepping off the podium now!

To You Who Disturbed My Concert Experience

To the (only) young (straight)  man person who stood up and gyrated his body to Trey Song’s singing at the Jay Z concert, I’m gonna need you to justify your actions. There is nothing wrong with appreciating Trey Songz – though I am not a fan. But, as a strapping man, it does something for your credibility when you are grooving to “Neighbors Know My Name” while Mr. Songs is slowly pulling up his shirt to expose his bird chest. And, I’m just saying – it really doesn’t matter that you like him as an artist, but seeing you behave in such a manner makes it hard for me to envision you laying down…ahem. Instead, all I can see is you…ahem!

To the young ladies who thought it okay to come out in, what I’ll assume is considered to be their best, and to their awful girlfriends who allowed them to saunter around and feel good about themselves when even Helen Keller could see that they looks like a turd on a stick, shame on you. Not only did you create the after the concert concert, but you also caused many stomachs to burst from uncontrollable laughter, and many heads to ache from the constant side to side movements of disapproval. You were the epitome of a hot ghetto mess.

To the niggas (yeah, I said it) who decided that it would be a good idea to puff on a cigarette/black and mild/blunt/cigar or any combination of the aforementioned, whatdahell were you thinking? I mean seriously, what about that seemed like a good idea? And how the hell did you all get into my section? We get mad when people treat us like savage niggas, but then we act like them. What part of the game is that?

To the mothers and fathers that thought it okay to bring out their 7 year old child, please don’t ever raise your hand to discipline your child for brief or even excessive use of profanity, early sexual exploration, or even an unwillingness to be involved in anything that does not involve bling, money, and hoes.

To the broads in the tights/leggings (iown know what you call them joints), just because your legs are nice doesn’t mean that we all have to see how big your butt is. I mean, it’s just distracting. When straight women are losing focus to stare at your ass – and when they are stepping in front of their man to shield his eyes from wandering over to your backside, we know there is a problem. Yes, leggings/tights are back, but just because they make them in your size, doesn’t mean you have to wear them.

And finally, to Young Jeezy – please refrain from speaking. Your ignorance is overwhelming. The fact that you cannot say thank you to fans without using MF in EVERY sentence truly speaks volumes. Perhaps, your music speaks to people. But, for your sake, just let the music do the talking. I would just say, you just be quiet and look good. But to avoid being blasphemous, I’ll just say, you just be quiet and look.

Today was a hell of a day. It was one of those days where – at the end, you just want to go to sleep and hope that you’ll never remember it again. It was just a doozy of a day. From having a new child thrown into the mix of the “geniuses” that I already have to having to sit through and bare a one sided conversation that had me so mad I could choke a ho – it was bad. Ugh, it took everything in me not to just go he hell off and act ape sh*t crazy. But then I thought about that lady who got escorted off that college campus for some things that she said on her FB page. Real talk, sometimes you feel like a nut.

As a blogger, many of us have the decisions to make on whether we want to remain discreet about who we really are or if we are okay with attaching a very real face to the words that our readers are given access to. Then, there are people like me who straddle the fence of discretion vs. public persona. When it comes to my place of business, I tend to keep what I do outside of that building, private. I don’t discuss relationships, family, or anything that I deem to be personal with them – cuz, real talk, I don’t trust them. And that’s not because they aren’t trustworthy, but because I don’t trust them not to say something that would make someone I’m hiding from, find me. I just don’t trust people that much.

So, it really ruffled my feathers when my boss started running this whole thing about being on FB while at work. Now, I am guilty of being on there while at work – but ONLY during down time. So, for her to make this blanket statement and then go on to tell us that we just plain ol’ CAN’T use or sit down at a computer while at work, made me furious.

Today was a friggin awful day – and I could say more, but why bore you with it all? I just needed to get it off my chest. From now on, it’ll be back to your regularly scheduled program…..or something like that.