Grey…

Grey is the color you get when you mix black and white. it’s one of those colors no one really cares about. that’s how people should feel about interracial dating. i should be biting my tongue on this one because i have been oine to say how black guys only go for white girls for this and that reason but i’m starting to rethink a lot of things. i know many males who have blatantly told me that they only go for white chicks because they are “easy” and the novelty is what drives them wild. is that not the sickest thing you’ve ver heard? But i can’t even be mad. If a black guys wants a gurl who is that easy and provides them excitement based solely on their skin color, THEN SO BE IT. I don’t change for anybody, and I sure am not changing into an slutty slut slut! No thank you.

To the men of color, at the end of the day, it should be about who you care for and who provides you the most happiness and love. Perhaps this “white girl” thing is a passing phase. Whatever floats your boat. Let it be known though, it doesn’t phase me anymore. Love is love. Date, marry, have sex with whoever you want to have sex with. It’s your perogative.

My first kiss was a white dude. and i’ve kissed white dudes in the meantime. I might have to broaden my horizons this year. My New Year’s resolution was to be more open-minded this year and this article for some reason made me what to explore “unknown” territory. After all, My President is the product of an interacial couple.

I’m on it :o)

Advertisements

And I’m from the dirty…

I say fuck the broom AND the mop.  I love me some lil wayne. You know what else i love about him? His swag, his lyrical genius, and forget wat everyone says, he backs it up well. I’m hoping a certain gentleman caller i’m talking to also does the same. He’s handsome, and funny, and seems to have his shit together so i might have to have some fun with this one. we were on the phone last night for 2 and a half hours. The contect of our convo will be kept on the hush but best believe it was all over the place. the way my conversations should be. hahah. he’s cool peoples and i can tell we’re gonna have some fun together. You made the blog RJA!!!

Smile baby!

I want to change…

Because Barack said so. and because I want to be honest with myself. I’m not happy with my body. And no this isn’t one of those “i’m a skinny girl, who put on a few lbs and will have to hit the gym hard” stories. I need to lose this weight for my own health. I’m Fat. and I dont like it. And when you don’t like something you CHANGE it. I’m finding it hard to do that. i have no motivation, i hate the gym, but i know i need to drastically change. my mom used to tell me how disciplined i used to be. And i remember. I was much of a perfectionist. Gymnastics, academics, extracurriculars, i had discipline. But this weight that burdens me scares me. Because I think it’s hindering me in soo many ways.

It’s time for a change. I just need to be like Nike and Just Do It…

I can do this...

I can do this...

Black Men…

Idris, oh Idris. Ok i don’t know the dude personally or anything but doesn’t he seem like the kind of man you wanna, have children with? wake up next to? have him rub your feet? I know. This may sound like crazy fanatic but let me take it to another level

Sometimes I think about how my relationship with men may be too cliche. it’s the usual story: young-impressionable-female-who-never-had-a-relationship-with-her-father-and-now-she-can’t-get-close-to-men. Tragic. I always thought I would be able to rise above but that’s not always the case. I’ve never really had a boyfriend. But i’ve had a few sexual partners. A few of those people I didn’t really care about but the other i did. I thought i could separate my feelings from the actions, but as all females know, that’s not always the case. I don’t really see myself being in a relationship unless i can be assured i wont get hurt. A man i was seeing last year told me he loved me. And I reciprocated the words for the FIRST time in my life. I thought i loved him, but i think it was just a way to assure myself, that he cared about me. However strange it may sound, I knew the last time we saw each other, that I didn’t really love him but to find a man that could say those words to me, was something i had dreamt about forever.

When i was messing around with guys, knowing damn well i wouldn’t be in a relationship, i never wanted to admit to myself that the reason i couldn’t find such closeness to these guys was because because “closeness” didn’t come in male form. I got love from my female friends, from my mom and sisters, and aunts. But now i know that i need to let go of that resentment, and realize that there will be someone who will love me for me, and I can truly lend my love to a man.

Babysteps…

It was all a dream…

Can i just say, this movie was very entertaining. And so real that it was dumb silly and midly hilarioso. I didn’t realize Biggie had ladies all over the damn place. RIP.

So this leads to me thinking that life is much too short. I have so many things to accomplish in this life, so much love to give, and so many people to thank. for now it’s all about making ME happy and doing the things in life that will culminate to my utter happiness. I’m going to be reckless without being wreckless, but use common sense. Everyone makes mistakes in there lives, but God is so forgiving that he is sometimes willing to give a “clean slate.” To him I am forever grateful because when i was going through rough times, I thought it was the end of me. I do feel as though part of me went away, but i know that I’ll get all of me back.

Kind how Biggie finally became a man before death, I am going to prove to myself that I can be the black woman that i’ve always wanted to be. I am the future, I am the dream, I am ME and will strive to be the happiest me I can be.

No dream is too big…

***Obama/Biden***

I woke up this morning…

Thinking that my life wasn’t what it used to be. I know that i’ve changed alot since going to college. I know that my friends here are incredibly important to me, but our differences become clearer and clearer. I spent that night at one of my best friend’s house and we just relaxed, watched tons of tv, ate pizza, the usual. And i just couldn’t get over how different we’ve become. Don’t get me wrong, i love her to death, and I would do anything for her, but it’s so starkingly clear that we are different. this “different” is good but it just got me thinking. She comes from more money and i can see it in her clothes, her jewelry, her bags, her shoes, her parents, her wine, her tv, her room, everything. I think it makes me feel insdecure in a way because in middle school these differences were visible but i never thought about them. it didn’t matter back then and i dont know why they should matter now.

They shouldn’t…

Me and my best friend are the dream MLK only hoped for, and the dream Langston Hughes had deferred. We are the chocolate and vanilla of this world and frankly we are better together than we are apart. but it dont think it’s about race, i think it’s about knowing this world isnt tolerant of such a dream, and it affects me. i want to go and do “black people” things, i.e. clubs and bars that cater to a black audience, but all my friends here are white and i’m not sure if they would be comfortable with that. But here’s the thing: i dont think it’s fair to me to hide the fact that i want to do these things just because they are white. when i go out with them, the crowd is ALWAYS predominently white but i dont ever say anything about it. What could I say? i’m not the bar type, or the pub type, or the “dive” type and that’s just who i am. And yet i get dragged into these things without and consideration of my interests. Just because you dont like to dance doesn’t mean i should do whatever you want to do. cuz shit, we never do anything i wanna do. ugh

I used to be so happy go lucky, and so vibrant. but people have made me become a bitch, and an angry one at that. I used to be a social butterfly, talk it up like it was my day job. Sometimes i dont even know where that person is. i loved her. that was me. that was the me that i loved. that was the me that would put smiles on peoples faces, and make boys blush. what happened to me. It’s like being here, in space and time, isn’t good enough for me. my social life is stagnant, my search for a male counterpart is on the ritz, and i feel like i haven’t had the motivation, or time, or energy to change back to the person i want to be.

It’s easy to call myself a diva, but to be a diva you have to believe you are…

Hey world, it’s me…Me

So today, January 16th is the start of something new. I am beginning my road to wonderous wonders, and beautiful beauties. i have decided to just write to write. my feelings, my thoughts, my nuances, my incongruencies. I thought I’d do something with myself, start the year off being open-minded and now i’m finally doing something about it. Yay for me…

This should be fun 🙂