Dream Catching, and a Dream defferred.....

MLK had a dream.... And so did I. So do I, I suppose. A dream of getting a to see one of my leaders, my role models, in person. Obama came to little old Louisville, Kentucky yesterday for the primaries and I was so excited!!! I was hoping of getting to shake his hand, ask a question, hell maybe even take a picture....not to mention meet Michelle Obama, aka the black Jackie O, aka the "hottest chick in the game" (courtesy of bossip,lol.) Somehow I finagled my crew into coming with me (I didn't have but a DROP of gas left in my tank, hear me? Somebody else had to drive...) and off we went! The sun was bright and the tide was high, and I was cheesing from ear to ear in the backseat of Marissa's car, weave blowin in the wind and all. There were all sorts of people milling about the streets, all for different purposes...and I suddenly saw why by the time we got to the "line". It wasn't no Damn line! It was a gargantuan irritated people chain that snaked down 2 street blocks and then turned a damn corner! By the time we walked the length of the line, homegirls had decided to call it a damn day. But while we were walking back UP the people chain, there were huge gaps in the line. So big that we decided we might be able to squeeze into a spot....untill this big ass old black woman with a large handful of snot-nosed Shaniquas and Raheems said" Nah, Nah, Nah yall not cuttin ladies!" pissin me off. So I didn't get to see obama. But what pissed me off even more was that old-school gutter snipe who got in my well-dressed and polite face! The ho... What a dream deferred. So today I'm job hunting. Chasing the dream, or the money. It's 4 freaking o clock! And I been poundin the pavement since 11 this morning... I got two for sures and a lot of other possibles. One as a telemarketing agent and the other as a cashier at a sex shop. I can just see me as the new girl six, purring into the phone to get some bonehead to get online rm radios, or as some fluffy-haired jawn with too much lipliner and fake eyelashes, talkin about how the 8 inch dongs are simply the bomb! Yall don't know how hard I'm rolling my eyes... Plus, I miss him....

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!/ I have readers!!! yay!

Ok, so sorry it took me so long to write. Life is a many splendored thing, ya know. Many busy bull**** things to do as well....anywhoo, I'm actually excited to dedicate this to my favorite girl....my mom! Ole girl's been around wwaaaayyy longer than I have, about time I did something for her, right?She's the original flyy gurl.. Sometimes though, I actually confuse my mom's life with mine...almost like I'm just a younger version of her, ready to start over again. We both act the same, I'm built like her, I love to write like her, and the reason (at times) I'm still in school and not bent over with my ass out on the pages of King and Smooth is because she didn't graduate college. (But I might be getting there soon...sista's gotta pay for college, ok?) We've been riding partners for a while now...all the way from the roach infested townhouse when it was just me and her and a tiny box tv, to the suburbs, a new dad, brother,sister, and cars and education for all of us..lol. What do I admire the most about her? Her realism. She knew she had to make money to feed us, so instead of chasing her dreams in cali as the journalist she wanted to be, she busted her guts for 19 years at a boring desk job in front of a computer screen...she tells me each and every time (when I ask) whether I've made a mistake with my new flavor of the week (and the woman is ALWAYS right! Grrr!) and sacrificed so that I could go to a performing arts middle school and then youth performing arts school, so I could have a car sitting outside at 15 and couldn't even drive it, so I could get that ridiculously extravagant white prom dress with see through bodice and dripping rhinestones!! (I'm starting to feel guilty as I write this) And all she wants is a condo in florida. Lmao. which seems to be something all old people clamor after....There's a vast variety of mothers in America, from the corporate working mother with latchkey kids to that project mama we all know who sits at home and watches her soaps and stays on the phone, to that beautiful trophywife did-she-really-pop-out-a-baby-or-is-it-her-sister's like Rebbie and Janet jackson....I would have to say my mom is a lil of all of these. All my aunts AND my friends say our relationship is too much like that of friends and not enough mother and daughter, but hell, without her they wouldn't know half the sex ed info they do....another hearty laugh... So here's to you "Shoo"! Know that I love you and would trade my next breath just so u could breathe on....HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!

Ps...omigod I have readers! This is like a dream come true....I'm doing my pageant wave in front of my computer screen...my goofball life is not in vain...

Why Hip-Hop is dead

Brown sugar is one of my favorite movies. No, I mean like really. lol The way Hip-Hop is used as a Euphimism for love just blows me away, and I don't know why! My momma told me I would end up with an older man a few years ago, and I held onto that. Though I'm 18, I know for certain I'm just a tad bit different from other chicks my age. (EVERYBODY says that, so I try not to that often.) I realize that yes, I am still a kid in a lotta ways, but honey is growing up fast in college, hear me? I got Bills out the ass, I'm not carefree any more, and I'm about my future! The bible does say "When I was a child, I thought as a child, I spoke as a child...but when I became a man I put childish things away." And I'm a man now, baby. (lol a WOman)

And then I met a man. And he was older than me...and he was intelligent, had already graduated form college AND graduate school...and he was the 6'5 to my 6'0 in heels, and he was suave and handsome, and the list goes on... I was in deep, y'all.But on top of it all, he was an original B-Boy!Big in Louisville right now, and no, he isnt a rapper. Look up the definition if you are a little confused. I thought to myself, this is the one I deserve! this man was to me the completion of my adulthood (to me, anywau). I'd been rippin and runnin since I was 14, talking to as many dudes as I possibly could! Lookin back now, it was because the thing I wanted most in life was just to be pretty, and be noticed. Perhaps because I was cute now, and I was pretty satisfied with that need and realized how idiotic that want was when so many dont have HALF my blessings, I settled down. And now I could talk about my favorite subjects (politics, money, wolrd affairs, trash tv lol) with ease and not worry about whether or not I was understood. And then after that I could hear a cut I hadnt heard in years, just to make me smile.He was my hip-hop.

But where/what has hip-hop come to? Hip-hop has made a pretty tumultuous juorney to where we are now. Nobody talks about anything anymore except how much money they have, how much pussy they're getting, and whether or not you could get fucked up if anybody feels so obliged. Sex, drugs, and videotape,yo.Television shows have eroded its sanctity, made jokes out of what was so special, and the one thing that still belonged to US, whatever way we decided to take it. The same way Hip-hop had a rocky road, so had me and MY hip-hop. Somehow I managed to get myself entagled with someone who didnt want to be in a relationship, while I was ready for a serious and monogamous one. But like most, he told me he wanted me to be exclusive to him, and I was his "baby."I was his "1"(ladies, didnt I tell y'all about this shit in my last blog?)and for a while, that was enough for me. But 1 means that there are other numbers honey (and dont you ever forget it!) Being a man who had been in 8 cities in 7 years, he had hoes in different area codes. BEAUTIFUL WOMEN (models, singers, dancers-the whole nine) and I felt terribly inferior. What did IIII possibly have to offer that these other women didnt? Then I thought, it's becasue I'm smart, and becasue I'm not the flashy type, I'm just quietly pretty and supportive. A man that's fairly famous wants a real woman thats smart and strong and can hold him down in the homefront, not a woman to fight him for the spotlight! Then I realized again, that whatever you are, there is always somebody out there Smarter than your smart ass, Funnier than your funny ass, and Killing your beautiful ass!So I'm sure he's done women wrong who are in even better positions than I am. And the straw the broke the camel's back (i LOVE that saying) was that he messes with women around the city that cant compare to me! stupid ghetto women that act like they have no hometraining, fairly pretty women with children who are only looking for a sponsor, not a man (takne from one of his blogs). Give me a fucking break! Most of the time I languished on the vine, just wanting a little of his time, hoping he thought of me at least a little. He would tell me how busy he was, and I respected that. But if you're busy, how in the world do you have time to meet all your new little friends? (red flag!) My heart simply couldn't take anymore.

LEARN FROM MY MISTAKE TIME!!!!

1) Dont give it up!- I had to learn this the hard way (my favorite way, apparently) As much as we women hate games, men HAVE to play them! It's a biological mechanism. They love to chase, so run,bitch! Dont give up your cookies! If you do there's nothing to work towards and then they get bored. No matter how good of a match you are, if you do that, you're done. So wait!

2) If he's Not calling you, he's calling somebody!- my mama told me that and I have ALWAYS found it to be true. Dont wonder where he's at, cuz he sure as hell aint wonderin about you! Pick up a damn book! (refer to the "read a book" video on my page ,or youtube!)Dont call him!

3) Nobody is to busy to pick up the phone or send you a short text message and tell you they're thinking about you. Men just dont forget about somebody they truly like, honies.

4) you have to love yourself before you can be in love- I'm still learning. I have to love everything about me, flaws and all, before anybody else could. See, something new I've learned!

5) Know your worth- whether you are a 5 or a ten, a dummy or genious, fat, skinny, short or tall, there is something about you that makes you special and Unique in this world. And that makes you BEAUTIFUL! Dont be afraid to leave each and every jerk until you find that one who can appreciate that specialty about you!Don't be afraid to be selective! Men are, aren't they?

6)All men are not the same, ladies. Even the ones that are absolute assholes to your are wonderful to other girls..You just have to get in where you fit in. And the shit aint easy.And some men are instantly ready to settle down, while others may never be. Listen to T.I...."I aint gonna chase u, I'd rather replace u."

7) If all else fails, know that Karma is a Bitch. And it will get his ass.

So where am I right now? Sitting here, supposed to be doing homework. But this was heavy on my heart, just like he still is.I'm so gone, so addicted... Sometimes I hope he'll read this and realize he lost a good one, but as long as I know it that's all that matters.It hurts like hell, but I'll get over it. I wanted to be his 1, his wife, not wifey, be the mother of his kids and start a family of intelligent black children who know where they come from, but I can still do that with another lucky man...my fantasies were very real, yet youthful, and his shit was smoke, mirrors and pipe dreams over a sick, sick beat...After his contract is up and he leaves louisville, he probably wont even remember my name. I know in the future I'll see him at parties, and hear his voice everywhere as soon as I come home.And I know his regular groupies will be hanging off him, and it will hurt to see it and know that everything he did to me to make me feel good, he'll do to them. I wasn't special to him. but I AM special.I might write an pop song about it one day (lmao)and you know why?

BECAUSE HIP-HOP IS DEAD.

Bust-It Baby, huh? NOT!!!!

The older I get, the more I realize how young I really am. Like, really. Being in college is a great thing, but sometimes it isn’t becasue i get a lot of damn free time to think about shit.(shit like this,lol) Also, being 18, I am seeing old folks views more and more and am able to agree with them, while I still understand a teenager’s way of thinking.Romance is and always has been a percentage of my life....and apparently every other healthy young heterosexual female too.But young ladies are getting it confused today...Why the fuck do you want to be somebody’s "Bust-It Baby"?

* first it was dipset’s "honey dip." The song had a nice beat, melody, and whatnot,(basically it was cute.) but when you listen to the words you realize how disrespectful that fucking song really is. No, he doesn’t want you to be his girlfriend...so you, who probably already have a boyfriend who might possibly be treating you right, (but it dont matter cuz youre so into this other guy), chill with him and let him hit whenever he wants, becasue he is who he is. I THINK NOT!

*later everyone is in love with being "Wifey". Not "Wife", but "wifey". Please, don’t even fuck with the word if you’re not serious about getting married! We all equate "wifey" with those other idiotic monikers, "my main chick, my bottom bitch" which is telling dudes it’s all right if they fuck around with other girls, as long as you love me. as long as you care about me the most. GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE! Being 1 means that there are other numbers, honey! And that you’re telling him that you dont love yourself enough to demand to be his one and only!

*and now, there’s "Bust-It Baby". Im not too sure there’s a girl out there who doesn’t swoon over plies. Hell, I do myself! He’s sexy and I love his swag....his roughness and grittiness represents that Alpha Male, the man who’s not afraid to lead his household and hold you down always, and also not afraid to take charge in the bedroom, know what I’m sayin?lol. But he’s only talkin about holding it down in the bedroom, and none of that other shit, ok? Any man who loves the streets, a place that will take him to jail or the grave,more than he can love me, is a man I can do without. And that is what these young ladies are confused about.

There is nothing cute about calling yourself any of these names, ladies! You are nobody’s wifey, or honey dip or bust-it baby! Get yourself together! By calling yourself that you arent able to call yourself what you are, a princess, a queen, a LADY! you don’t want no nigga who will treat you like any of these names listed above! Get ya fuckin head in the books and do for you, so that you can find the MAN (not nigga) who will treat you like a motherfucking lady! And on those dry nights when you feel like you need some love, go get you some, but not becasue thats all you are to him. Get it cuz you want it! The niggas will always be there!!! And I am not a hypocrite, cuz I am tellng you right now I have been there. I used to be so excited when I told people about my boyfriend, and that I was "wifed-up’. But I was more enamored with the name than I was with him! GET OVER THAT GHETTO SHIT CUZ THATS ALL IT IS.

Bottom line, we all have struggles with realizing how precious we are and that what we give out between our legs was supposed to be a gift to our husbands. That gift I gave away a while ago, and while it was wrong, I cant regret the past. Even today, the man I’m dating I care about so much that I want to be whatever he wants me to be....SOMETIMES. but then i get unstuck off stupid, becasue things can go from sugar to shit in a minute with a man. you jus never know what these niggas will do next! So before i let him call me anything else I let him, and myself, know, that I AM A FUCKING LADY.ok?

And so are you!

Random Thoughts...I'm gettin shit off my chest

okay...this is how you know that I am bored! i gotta lot on my chest...im not angry or anything...i just have to get it up before it backs up on me like chesse and then you cant get it out and you can't use the bathroom...tmi lmao.
Party on, my brotha: So like last week I went to a kappa party, hoping somewhere in the back of my mind that it would be a regular party. Let me tell y'all sometihng! IF YOU WANT TO STROLL EVERYWHERE YOU WALK AND DANCE THEN JUST THROW A GREEKS-ONLY AND GET OUT OF MY SPACE! Now I know I sound somewhat bitter or something like a hater, it's just not so...I just have a problem holding grudges. No disrespect yo, but alot of dudes and chicks go greek becasue they were nobody before and they become somebody that way...and if you pick that way to go, that's fine. But can you achieve infamy on your own, my friend? Also, Greeks do great, great things for our community as a whole. But on a greater scale, why cant we ALL (unified!!) join hands and get something done! Maybe sing Kumbayaa? ok maybe not Kumbayaa...Perhaps I'm still an annoying freshman picking at the edges of this rotting carcass we call school, but I was somebody in high school and I will continue to be somebody afterwards.Honey.
Which brings me to my next sitch: I'm definitely a somebody,baby, but who the hell am I?(This feels like such a private subject but I am totally like putting myself on blast...lol)I hear all the time that if you are jealous of somebody or wary of another person (or girl), then that's a reflection on yourself....but cant somebody just get on my nerves? Can't I just wanna kick the crap outta somebody? Can't I just take somebody apart piece by piece by looking at them and then talking about them? No, I can't. It's not right. Just today some girl wrote a smart-aleck comment on facebook and when I read it, I wanted to race through Cyberspace and choke her! That's a problem...and on the whole, I need to get it together.And while I have to do that whole "introspection" thing, I still gotta do good in school!
School: I love to learn! Seriously! But dangit if I dont have the most boring classes in the world! It makes it hard to learn....what did the greats do with this problem, since I'm following SOMEBODY's footsteps (don't know whose, but aint nothin new under the sun)It is so hard to crack a book here, with it bein so cold, and you just wanting to sleep...listen to me. I sound pitiful.