'What's My Age Again?'

'Confusion is a word we have invented for an order which is not yet understood.' -Henry Miller

It amazes me how time passes. One second it’s the morning, you blink, then it’s dusk, you sleep and it’s day again. I know ‘time flies’ is very cliché, but it’s so damn true. Yesterday, I turned 23. Just 365 (yester)days ago, I turned 22-and I recall that ‘yesterday’ like it happened today. For some reason, I always come across a cloud of sadness when my birthday arrives. My twenty-second birthday was the loneliest birthday ever. A gloomy haze fogged my spirit. I felt like I couldn’t see where I was going, nor did I know where I wanted to go. As a result, I declined going out for drinks and rejected numerous dinner proposals. Feeling detached, my mental state, and irritable attitude would not have made me very pleasant company. It was like I put myself in solitary confinement but I couldn’t understand why. You may be thinking 'is she mentally ill?' I’m not…or at least I don’t think I am. Simply put, I wasn’t in the mood to ‘celebrate.’ Another year knocked off of my time on Earth, and I still couldn't pinpoint my purpose.

'Yay, 22 and I don’t know what the fuck I want out of life-Cheers!’ No thanks.

Perplexity was something I refused to 'toast' to.

So I drove aimlessly around Manhattan. There was a crisp wind and the sky was dim. I ended up wandering uptown and driving around the upper-east side. It started to rain and the sky faded into a gloomy darkness. The weather was a direct reflection of the way I felt-lonely, cold, and obscure. It was like that very wind was blowing right through the middle of my body. I felt like I needed SOMETHING to look for-something to fill that void I felt. SOMETHING to cover that gaping hole. To top it off, I was still not completely 'over' my ex at the time. The fact that he had not called me on my birthday was like a dagger in my stomach.
So, as a fix for my damaged spirit, I did what any diva-in-distress would do:

Go Shopping.

The shoe department at Marshalls on 125th Street on a Saturday evening was an eyesore. My brown Ralph Lauren loafers were run into the ground, so I thought a replacement pair would make me feel better. Typically I treat myself to something ‘new’ when the birthday rolls around. It’s not necessarily something big or flashy, but just something. When I came up empty-handed, I realized it wouldn’t. But I continued to search the women's shoes wasteland-lost and disoriented. My estranged lover finally reached out during my search for something to fill the gaping hole in my heart. Realizing that I would probably feel hollow and sad for the remainder of my birthday, I drove down Central Park West, parked my car, and sat there: crying.

Now let me fast-forward to THIS birthday.

All in all, it was better. Mentally, I’m in a better place this year. No more lingering emotions or heart strings tied up to be played like a guitar. With a new job and a new outlook on guys, I celebrated with a small housewarming party at my new apartment. Because my actual B-day fell on a Monday, the celebration took place on Saturday. The theme was ‘23 Shades of Pink.’ This was inspired by the idea of bringing in the ‘new’ (birth-year, dwelling, lifestyle) with the most important thing we have:

Love.

The décor was exactly the way I envisioned it. Pink-lighting, draping fabric, and carefully placed tea-lights gave it a sensual vibe: think Aphrodite in a Moroccan village. Yet, the chocolate cupcakes, shortbread cookies and pink-cocktail punch created the sweet and innocent balance. Cool people, candles and iTunes filled my space. My friends, my baby-sister, fraternity brothers and sorors all came to show me love. I got dolled-up in a black spandex-tank-mini-dress, fuschia Indian bracelets, baby-pink fishnets, and bright pink lipstick while I played hostess for the first time, in a long time. My hair was fabulous-I got some gift cards (greatly appreciated), had the most delicious red-velvet ice-cream cake, courtesy of ColdStone. People who came through also brought bottles so I ended up with a lot of extra liquor in my crib. The party was not the ‘event of the century’ however, it was enjoyable and relaxing. Definitely better than sitting in the rain, alone, crying and not knowing why.

And just when I thought that black rain-cloud that came on November 17th was left in the past...

It made a comeback.

I don’t know if it was the return of the ‘birthday blues’-the same gloom I experienced on my previous birthday or maybe it was just PMS. Whatever the diagnosis, I felt like shit. I took off of work, stayed home and got my house back in order with the help of my little sister, whom I affectionately refer to as ‘Onion.’ (To be pronounced with a French-accent) My annoyance began at midnight when my phone began blowing up with ‘Happy Birthday’ text-messages. I know this is 2008 and people type and send just about everything the mouth can say. Hell, I do it too-it’s convenient and talking on the phone for hours isn’t as fun as it used to be when I was 15. HOWEVER, ‘Happy Birthday’ is just not something people should express in a text-message. At least NOT TO ME.

I woke up disgruntled to several ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” text messages. The multiple !!!!!!!!!’s made me feel like I was being yelled at. I mean, is it that difficult to call someone on their birthday? I can READ-I know it’s my birthday, but what makes you think I want to read it? Certain things you just don’t say via text-message. It’s just bad protocol-for example, breaking up with your gf or bf … trying to explain why you stood someone up…wishing me a ‘Happy Birthday.’ It’s so lame. I just think that such a personal and supposedly ‘special day’ deserves a phone-call. Even my three-year old niece can just type a message. Maybe I’m crazy, but I found myself getting angry with every ‘Happy Birthday’ I read. Some people didn’t even get a response.

Am I wrong for feeling 'a way' about getting corny text-'happy birthdays?'

I don't know. Perhaps it's anxiety that naturally comes with age. Maybe it's just me busting my brains to figure out if I'm where I should be in life. Maybe it's my internal fears and issues with separation. Or maybe it's the fact that everyone hypes up birthdays and I just don't understand why. Maybe I'll never understand why. But, whatever it is-it always turns out fine and I can only be grateful to see another year.

Thank you Mom for birthing me. Thank you God, for making me. And thank you all who called me and said something to bring some sunshine to the black, birthday-rain-cloud.

And a special thank-you to Shambo. She saved my birthday. Slate+ Home+White Zinfindel+ a good ass DJ= Good times..

Cheers!

11.5.08

We wonder why things are not en route.
So we rush and we fear, question and doubt.
But, when we further examine, it’s a simple fact.
Patience is a virtue-the ability to step back.
Let time take its course and we’ll discover what we lack.
Don’t be deceived by the unchanging tide.
Life is but a journey - a momentary ride.
If Change hasn’t come,
Than it’s bound to arrive
It may not be tomorrow or when you expect.
The chime of the clock, we can only respect.
If its not here, than it’s not time-yet.
Just wait a little longer, maintain a faithful stride.
And before you realize it, in the blink of an eye.
There it is.
The tide has turned and brought about a new win.
The painstaking wait has come to an end
An undiscovered path is clear in our lens.
And a new begins.

'Thoughts on Obama'

The superior man is modest in his speech, but exceeds in his actions.

-Confucius

So, I'm not going to tell any of you to 'vote' because I'm sick and tired of getting text-messages, seeing buttons, and being pressed by others to 'Barack the Vote.' I AM DAMNIT! I swear, if one more person tells me to 'vote' I just might swing on them.

But, let me not be so negative.

Today is indeed a historic day and I truly hope that Senator Barack Obama does win this election. Aside from his prestigious degree, political credentials and undeniable swag, that man has soul. Even when he's just sitting there, his whole aura is ridiculously cool. Not even DIDDY was able to sell people on voting with his 'Vote or Die' slogan, circa 2004 (probably because nobody REALLY knew what the hell it meant).

Obama on the other hand, has a message with meaning. Even more impressively, he has built about as much brand equity and global recognition as Nike. EVERYBODY knows his name, his face, and his message. Any media outlet that you can name has Barack Obama covered in it. He's like the new, Black Che Guevara: iconic.

The refreshing thing about Obama is the positivity attached to his image. No matter how many slanderous things are said about him, or how many punches are thrown, his supporters recognize his resiliency. This brother simply brushes the dirt off of his shoulders and sticks to the script. When you're a man on a mission to repair a damaged nation, who has time to entertain the haters? Not him. He has broken the poorly characterized prototype for the Black man- a segment of people in our society that has carried a negative stigma since our people were enslaved and brought here. But Obama is not the typical modern Black icon. Embodying honesty, ethics, practicality and power with modesty and graciousness is a rarity. He is an anomaly in his own right, being a Black man who has become a role-model for the youth, outside of the sports & entertainment industries. A politician-a change agent-an intellectual. He has glamourized politics and made it irresistable: sexy even (ladies would agree).

Listening to his interview with Ed Lover yesterday morning, I realized why people take to him-he simplified and identified with the people. Period. He is someone we can all relate to and we feel we can trust. His candid answer to the 'why should you become the next US president' question revealed his clarity on the real issues at hand. No samba-dancing around the questions and no political garble thrown in to confuse people. Obama said 'I know how to bring people together'-and that's no lie. He has raised the most money in history, registered the most new voters and built a brand name for himself while running a flawless campaign in a matter of months, to prove it.

There is no doubt about it-from Jay-Z to Julia Roberts, this man has a nation backing him: supporting his philosophy, believing in his promises, and rooting for him to succeed in re-Uniting the States with the rest of the world, who have probably outlawed red-necks and apple pies by now. In the global scheme, even foreigners who don't speak a lick of English, want him to win. This morning in the Metro NY daily paper, statistics showed over 80% of foreign people support Obama.

He keeps it real, he keeps it simple, and he relates to us all. He has established emotional connections with people by reaching out and he knows how to provide logical solutions to big problems. The courage, the charisma and the humanism he has exhibited is why he has quickly become a world favorite. People have faith in him and truly feel he has the ability to bring about CHANGE.

I personally like him because he is human and puts it on the table. He brings out his family, he plays basketball with his boys, and he is unapologetic about it. People sense the realism and although I'm sure he has a flaw or two, he's the type of man that would have the dignity to be honest about it. It is what it is when it comes to him. And even he experienced the unprecedented death of a loved one-his grandmother. My grandmother died too, but I wasn't trying to win a presidential election the next day. That, his little girls, and his genuine and open display of affection for Michelle all contributes to his humanism. It shows that 'he's one of us.'

So, why am I REALLY voting for Obama? Because he's Black, of course! Na, I'm joking. The color of his skin is only part of the reason. And yes I emphasize that his racial background is part of the reason. It's only natural to identify with someone who knows your struggle. But I wouldn't vote for any-old Black person just because they're Black-because some of us are just downright ignorant-especially when in a position of power. Jessie Jackson is a prime example. He says some dumb things and his actions are not characteristic of an effective leader-and I felt this way long before he made that embarassing comment about 'chopping Obama's n*ts off.' Such a damn fool...

McCain's team has exhausted their options. The commercials they've been running on Fox, BASHING Obama by showing clips of Pastor Jeremiah Wright, was living proof. Again, focusing on irrelevant shit which Obama did not say. From the last time I checked, Obama was not openly endorsing the racial comments made by his Pastor. And Obama has no control over the next man's mouth-no matter how much influence he may have. McCain is pathetic and so are his ads. They have all been so 1990's with his whole angle-even his production was trashy. I mean, if you're going to spend all that blasted money on anti-Bama ads, at least have better substance than 5-month old news. We already know what Wright's senial behind said-THANKS! And even with the Republics coming at him from all of the negative angles, Obama maintained his composure, never changing his modest and positive position.

And as for Sarah Palin...? The real question is who or what actually lives in the State of Alaska besides baby seals? I saw that chick in OK! Magazine with her signature 'rimless frames,' her Paul Mitchell-hair and...wait, let me compose myself. Some GOLD-EARRINGS IN THE SHAPE OF THE STATE OF ALASKA!

Just when you thought Tina Fey was enough.

She ain't no different from a bird from East-Flatbush wearing a name-plate that says 'Keisha' if you ask me. This is the very reason why politics have to be so stern-or else you give people petty things to talk about in their blogs. The earrings were 'cute' and would have been acceptable if she was applying for a job as an Art teacher. But, VP? Of the US? Come on Sarah-that's way too ghetto..

That's all I have to say. May the best man win...