Disarming:

It's a feeling that surfaces when suddenly confronted with the unexpected (at least it is for the purposes of this post). When a man (or woman - but this is really for the ladies) is so fine that for a split second he makes you believe down deep in your soul that there are still some good men left in the world, he's disarming. You might have to do a double-take or pause to catch your breath and smile to yourself, but overall it's a good, giddy feeling. And I think we all need it every once in a while.

This morning, I was walking around the front of our offices and a stunning young man looked up at me from the paperwork he was filling out. I thought nothing of it - at first, except maybe to make a mental note that he was Asian or Pacific Islander. My boss had recently made a comment that we need more diversity in our program and I thought that perhaps he was applying in answer to her prayers. Then I looked again. He sure was dressed well. Not in his apparel, per se, but in his overall put-togetherness. I passed by and looked again. My, my...what nice features you have...

"Hello," I offer politely, completely ignoring the dapper, yet older, black man sitting in the adjacent guest seat. ...Did BASS just resonate molasses-mellow-cool from his vocal greeting??? Hold up. This guy is fine. And he kinda smoov too! For some reason he kept looking up every time I passed. He was probably nervous or anxiously awaiting his interview, but what do I care? Every time enabled me to take a greedy bite of eye candy! It's time to put some calls in. So I ask the receptionist what he's applying for; drat! The K-5 program. Our program needs tutors, too! In fact we probably need them more. Elementary school kids just learn how to color, count, and read. Our student population has REAL problems and needs REAL help.

In any event, it SURE was a lot of fun to keep thinkin' up excuses to walk by. In the meantime, however, I guess I should try to figure out how I can get a job at the K-5...JUST KIDDING!!! =)

School's In

For me, the start of a new school year has always been more exciting than the start of a new calendar year. It holds more weight, if for no other reason, because it demands decisive goals. You either decide to be on the honor-roll or you vow to take it easy. Maybe you'll try out for the basketball team or try your hand at a part in the school play. In any case, the ideology of the school structure sets students up to make life choices in a way that the work world - in its continuity - does not.

Thankfully, I work in education, so I have easy access to the mentioned benefits of that environment. While my expectations for the year now rely more on the students instead of myself, the structure still allows me wiggle-room to make personal decisions. For example: I'm making it a point to be involved in the school Shakespeare performance this year. My job is steadily requiring more responsibility and input from me, so now I must learn to delegate and mentor the staff intern.

Above all, I hope to remember that the students are the focus of this program. I have a tendency to set high expectations, and I don't plan to mitigate them, but it's good to remember what it was like just trying to get through high school. I had a brief flashback of such times when I sat to take the CBEST. Sitting in a desk surrounded by people there for the same purpose took me back to the smell of fresh pencils and doodle marks on stray scraps of paper. I briefly wondered who the finest guy in the room was, and it made me smile. School in general was fun because it was more than the educational experience, as I'd like our students to think (for necessary and obvious reasons). It was a lesson in social experience that began anew each year, and for that reason alone, it was precious.

To the start of '08-'09...

Jacked Up

By 7pm this evening I was giddy as a gumdrop and high on life (I don’t know how a gumdrop can be giddy, but I like the alliteration). I had finished a project that I had begun working on when I should have been working on two or three other things; what can I say? I’m a productive procrastinator – but not for long! Anyway, by 7pm I was simply gleeful, right? But I still had to work out. No problem. There was still a little light in the sky so I figured I had time. I farted around some until – oh look! it’s 7:30p – better get out there! A few minutes time had me dressed in funky old work out clothes and out the door to discover it was drizzling. No matter, I was determined to kick rocks. Then it got dark – like, dark and gloomy – which meant I had to hit the gym. I can’t stand the gym! I’m still upset with myself for signing up for membership! Nevertheless I deluded myself with some distracted thoughts and found myself there in no time. Once I had a stretch or two under my belt, I hit the treadmill. My mission: 5.4 miles. It wasn’t as bad as you may think.
However, one thing I happened to notice was how everyone was hooked up to their Ipods, eyes glued to a television screen or a magazine/newspaper page. Don’t get me wrong, I would have been hooked up too if my Ipod weren’t DEAD right now. It’s saddening, but I haven’t mourned as deeply as I thought I would have. Of course, my biggest fear was being able to continue to work out without driving rhythms and fleeting melodies pushing me along. Lucky for me, the treadmills at the gym have TVs in them! They’re all high tech and fancy, showing you different views of your progress and whatnot, BESIDES a variety of cable television channels. I never would have guessed the tv was in the machine had I not looked over at my neighbors machine to see how fast she was going, and if I could go faster. Imagine my surprise when I discovered this treasure. Now, imagine my surprise when moments later (literally less than a mile) I was repulsed by it. What the heck? I’m not trying to watch tv and work out, I’m trying to reach a goal! Yes, ideally the goal will fly by if I’m distracted by something wonderful, but that’s not the point. Sometimes, it’s good to focus – especially when you work out. I like my Ipod when I work out so I can’t hear my breathing which often freaks me out into quitting before I really need to. But today, when I was going full stride in the middle of my third mile, the running itself became a trance. It was like, nothing was there; just my reflection in the glass bouncing up and down rhythmically. It was really quite pleasurable. In a world where everyone’s hooked up to something, maybe we should stop and think and focus on what we’re distracting ourselves from. You never know what we could be missing…

Epiphany

What better way is there to start the week than to take Monday off? Since this weekend was particularly full, though less taxing than I had expected, I was eagerly looking forward to having the day off today. My mental “to do” list was full of tasks that frequently rearranged themselves as I remembered things I had forgotten. It wasn’t in the plan to get ALL of the things I needed to do done as long as I got some of them done and enjoyed the day in the process. Mission accomplished! And as an added bonus, I happened upon an epiphany.
In a previous blog post I mentioned that I am terribly and chronically late. I described how horrible being late makes me feel [blah blah blah] and how agonizing it is to be unable to understand why I can’t even FORCE myself to be on time. Yet this very day, while doing some research for a project, I think I may have found the key to my life. If you don’t already know, the library is a WONDERFUL place. Go there. Immerse yourself in the shelves of bound knowledge and learn something new. You never know what might change your life and when. I guess you all may be wondering what keys I found, eh? Well, I’m not going to tell you. I’m still uncovering the gems and have yet to test them as solid-gold facts. BUT, if you’ve ever read or watched or heard something that seemed to be exposing the entirety of your insides for all to see or hear, THAT’S exactly what I ran into today. I’m thankful, therefore, that I was able to have this beautiful day all to myself. I foresee that my near future will be under some much needed construction.
Ciao, bella negra!

Nerd

DISCLAIMER: THIS *ISH IS LONG.

For the past week or so, I have been troubling myself to figure out a topic to explore in my next blog post. I have sifted through the events of each day, often smiling at the wackier occurrences and slight irritations that have always seemed to be the norm for me. They remind me of a time when I asked a friend, “Why do these things always seem to happen to me?” She responded simply,

“I believe God allows these things to happen to people like us because he has given us a gift to voice them.”

Profound, right? I’m sure she won’t mind that I paraphrased and gussied up her observation. My mind is tricky when it comes to recall. Anyway, it’s been hard to settle on a subject that will allow me to preserve both the names of those involved and the significant hilarity of the event retold. Maybe you’ve noticed that in most of my posts, a crackerjack of wisdom is nestled somewhere amongst the fluff. Or, it could be that I’m just feeling myself this fine spring morning. Whatever the case, allow me to present to you the post for the day. Please enjoy.

For the past few months – since the closing days of 2007 – the desire to write some sort of research/scholarly paper has been nudging me like a three-year-old kid brother. Wouldja QUIT IT ALREADY??? What the heck is wrong with me?! I graduated on time and in good standing
for a REASON. You woulda thought experimenting with my camera phone and justifying it as research for this grand scheme of a project would have taught me a lesson by now. But, no. It hasn’t. Here the desire is again, riding me like a second shadow, forcing me to entertain it with some morsel of bookishness to temporarily quiet its rapacity. It was less of a problem when I was posting regularly for black history month. Every once in a while it reared its ugly head to impel me to do more than the (almost) daily postings on my blog and in my office, where I did a black history alphabet that stopped at the letter M. But since my near week-long birthday celebration, it’s fully resurrected its aggravating self. Therefore, observe.

I am a NERD. I would take the time to explain to you the theoretical differences between a nerd, a dork, and a geek, but I’d rather save that discussion for when the desire to research starts gnawing at my kneecaps. I am not the purest form of a nerd – nerdus primus; but I would categorize myself as nerdus minimus, and more accurately as nerd-dorkus minimus, a hybrid of the lesser attributes of both a nerd and a dork. Relate it, if you will, to bulimia. Like someone diagnosed with this ravaging disorder, I binge like a pedantic brown-noser to knowledgeable surfeit before purging in relentless prattle to anyone who will listen to…or read what I have to say. Even now in writing this post, I’ve used at least three vocab words I learned in the 10^th grade and have referenced both an online dictionary and thesaurus too many times to count. After purging I go back to my typically sedentary and dorkish life, which is frequently entertained by computer games such as Burger Shop and Delicious Deluxe, and now Wii Mario Galaxy.

While now is as good a time as any to exercise being concise, it’s probably too late. I said all that to say, that once I finished my work yesterday the fiendish urge to do a power point presentation arrested my attention. This isn’t the first time I’ve done a ppp “just because,” either. Then I thought to myself, for this to be ultimately effective, I should write a paper to accompany and guide the presentation! I finished the thought by justifying it as lesson material for students who want to know how present outstanding research in a professional and stimulating format. (That’s what the OTHER presentation was supposed to be for…)In reality, one of my students did a presentation and embarrassed me so greatly that I was undoubtedly inspired to do something to make up for her inadequacy. You may be thinking that it was my responsibility to make sure she didn’t go out there lookin’ crazy, but I reject this notion. I am NOT a trained and certified teacher. This particular student clearly has learning disabilities – the specificity of which I am completely unaware - and I have been unsuccessful at helping her because we cannot efficiently communicate. While I can sometimes manage to grasp her point of view, I can never seem to express myself in a way that renders her anything but confused. She has often voiced this. This is not an attempt to blame the student, I honestly do feel responsible and guilty that I cannot be more effective with her, but dagnab…I only know – and get paid – so much.

In any event, she felt good about the presentation and the engaging questions asked by the (confused) guest class. At least in this I was granted some solace, little as it was.

Back to the topic at hand. So I’m super juiced about my Power Point Presentation, and am pleased with my first slide. I want to engage and relate to the students that may possibly see this, so I decide to add some music. I choose “Elevator” by Flo Rida (that name cracks me up – it’s deep tho!) f. Timberland, because of it’s techy sound and grinding beat. It’s new and fresh, and I think it perfectly matches my topic: “The Science of Attraction”. Hopefully I actually follow through with this project, and don’t give up mid-way as is customary for me to do, due to my dorkus minimus qualities. The plan is to peruse the research already done on the subject, and flavor it with an “Ask a Sista ‘Cause It’s Free!!” point of view. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YPUG1aox4ZM&feature=related).

So the first thing I do when I get into work this morning is look up the song. It’s bumpin’ even harder than I remember. I’m convinced that it is the right choice. In fact, I’m feelin’ it so much that I consider adding a slide of pictures of hot men and women that will build up to the title slide. It is in this search that I found the reason to write all of this. A picture of Reggie Bush came up, which led me to a site filled with photographs of celebrity interracial couples. Somehow, I think it was via a picture of Common, I got to a picture of the latest cover of Vogue Magazine. On it, Lebron James and Gisele are questionably posed. I first saw the magazine this past Sunday while at the grocery store with a friend. We both looked at it and were mildly disturbed, not because we were seeing a black man and white woman together – please – but because Lebron looked like an enraged gorilla dribbling a basket ball in one hand and holding on to a delicate Gisele in the other. “I don’t like this,” I said to my friend. “Yeah,” she agreed. Little more was said. She purchased her Frosted Flakes and milk and we headed back to her place to eventually end up playing Wii Mario Galaxy for four hours. The thought of posting on the topic got lost somewhere in the first few levels.

Imagine my glee when I was reminded of the topic, especially when it was accompanied with the comment, “Lebron James criticized for Vogue cover”. I eagerly clicked the link to read the word. It wasn’t much, and it wasn’t too harassing. Basically, the writer explained how an ESPN writer felt that Lebron looked like King Kong (which was exactly the comparison I was grasping for on Sunday) and could have been presented differently, particularly since he is the first African American male to grace the cover. For one, a commentator suggested, his impeccable sense of style and dress could have been displayed. It IS Vogue, after all. I agree. I don’t really follow sports, but the few pictures of Lebron that I’ve seen depict him smiling at the very least. He seems like a nice, respectable young man. So why is he depicted as a rabid basketball guerrilla, with no sense of his surroundings (as he is appareled in appropriate b-ball attire)? I don’t blame Lebron, though his dress for the shoot probably should have tipped him off. I blame whoever chose to pick that picture as the cover, and I wonder how Lebron feels and if he is as concerned as others are.

Right now, I need to go back to creating my presentation, though. Please hit the comment box up with stimulating questions and comments related to any portion of this post – thanks!

P.S. I was looking for a picture of the cover to copy and paste in this post, when I found a video of the photo shoot for the Vogue Shape Issue. Athletes and models were juxtaposed as a balance between fitness and beauty. I forget the names, but an ice skater and that redhead skate boarder were also interviewed along with models, but Lebron and Gisele had the spot light. Ironically, Lebron made an interesting comment in the vid. He said, "One thing thing that Gisele has taught me about modeling is to keep a bright smile on your face at all times".
http://www.style.com/vogue/voguediaries/031408

The Ticker

Playing catch-up once again...

Last week was sort of a birthday celebration week that began on the Friday before that. Because of all the festivities, I got behind in posting, among other things. Please enjoy the week in review.

Friday, Feb 29th: Got paid and cut work to go buy green contacts from the beauty supply store. Met an older gentleman from Mississippi during the three-block walk to the store from my parking space. He offered his card, I took it, got my contacts, got gas, Veet and contact solution from Walgreens before finally making it home to see that my special-made birthday shirt had arrived. Joy. After Veeting, showering, and donning my newest dress, me and my twin homies hit the streets. Destination: SF Noir, the Metreon for the screening of "I'm Through with White Girls, or the Inevitable Undoing of Jay Brooks". BOMB. Talked to the main actress after the Q&A. Funny how we barely made it in...Next stop: surprise party - which, of course, I didn't know about. It went DOWN. Started at the Matrix Lounge and moved to the Comet Club. Heavy libations and carefree exuberance ensued. Thank you kind sir for the three 10 shot rounds of lemon drops.

Saturday, Mar 1st: Awake. Still inebriated. No worries... I can still clean up before my mom's plane gets in around 2p. Or NOT. I'm feelin' myself still, and that goes out the window. Pick up the ingredients for banana pudding that I'm supposed to make for a baby shower on Sunday and settle in to watch the incredibly annoying, "Down Home with the Neelys". Note to self: may have masochistic tendencies. Either that, or I just love to criticize. If you only knew. Make it to the air port on time - yay. Drive around town with Moms. Make up super TAG game at the last minute. But hardly anybody shows. Shout out to those that did. Game was off the hook for the few minutes it lasted. But, we got tired. Next time, better planning and more boys. Late night Teryakki salmon baking and banana pudding making. Mom conked out on the couch before I could offer her the bed.

Sunday, Mar 2nd: Chuuch. Praise Him. Followed by an over-sized homemade breakfast from the Vault Cafe. Good convo with Moms about the importance of changing one's eating habits as we heartily munch on French Toast, pancakes, eggs, and chicken apple sausage. Box the rest and hit home. A quick nap and some "Transporter 2" before it's time to hit the baby shower. I roll with a friend, and we're there on time, which is too early. So we pick up the mommy-to-be's gift and head back. Try to sneak past security, but it doesn't work. Utmost hilarity. I had to avert my eyes for fear of him finding us out. Four hours later, Moms is pissed that I'm not home yet, so I get a aluminum pan and put some food in it. Then we're out. I take her the food only so we can go to Whole Foods after - for what? A lemon tartlet. The help had an attitude problem and she was about to catch one to the mouth, but Moms was there. Lucky help.

Monday, Mar 3rd: BIRTHDAY. Phone vibrates off the hook (I keep it on silent for my sanity). Mom forgets to wish me happy birthday until after we've eaten breakfast and are dagnab-near on our way to the airport. I wear my special birthday shirt - it looks great, and sign up for gym membership, though it feels like a big mistake. After running errands all day, which include renewing my vehicle registration, paying phone and cable bills, and picking up my diploma from last year, I have all of $30 left in my bank account and nothing to eat in my house. Still, I'm happy as a lark, and a friend commands that I be ready to roll out for yet another surprise at 6:30p. I obey, but she's late. Well, turns out, it's speed dating! And IT was a lot of fun. Crazy guys, nice guys, kinda weird guys, but everyone was generally cool people. I must say I rather enjoyed myself. Got nums, and kept in touch.

Tuesday, Mar 4th: Back to work. Awww...but then, yay! A teacher made me special banana carrot birthday muffins "for an energetic birthday"! Though I don't like carrot, I eat the things (after I pick the carrot out of course) and they're pretty good! Then we're off to Korean BBQ for lunch. Scrumptious. I get a homemade birthday card as well as the generic one. Back at work, another coworker near assaults me, and demands what I'm doing when I get of work @ 5pm. I reply that I'll probably still be working around that time but she shakes her head and said that we were all going to the bar for my birthday. I'm stunned. This is really outrageous, but what else can I do but comply? She's my boss's boss....sort of. Two free lemon drops and 3 tasty quesadillas later, I'm gettin' the heck outta dodge, trying to make it home. As soon as I turn off my car, a friend bounds to the door and knocks on the window. Why am I not surprised? I couldn't tell you.

There's more, but dagnabbit, that's a pretty darn good birthday, and that'll suffice for now. Plus, if I wait any longer, it'll be May.

holleren.

Feel Me?

It's amazing how much our bodies will tell us if we take a moment to listen. We are uniquely connected to the universe around us, especially when it comes to our "spaces". I'm using "spaces" to represent both the concrete and ethereal worlds around us. Before you sign me off as having slid off my rocker, take a minute to think about your day. How is it like every other day? How is it different? What is a "regular" day, and what is a "good" day.

I was thinking about this on my way to work this morning. You see, I woke up around 7am, with the intent to do a couple loads of laundry, walk the lake, and go grocery shopping before I made it to work. For someone who has trouble getting up and getting ready in time to make it out of the door at a decent hour, this would truly be quite a feat. But, for whatever reason, it didn't feel like that today. Today, I felt like I could do it, as though I did it every day. And I did. Not only did I successfully wash and dry two loads of clothes, walk the 3+ mile lake in torrential downpour, buy four items from the grocery store to complete my breakfast and lunch, but I made it to work EARLIER than I did yesterday - if only it was by a few minutes. Did I wake up extremely early? No, only an hour earlier than I did yesterday - and it takes an hour (on average) to walk the lake on a good day. I don't have a washer and dryer in my apartment; it's in the next building over. So what was it???

I have no idea. The phenomena of it all drove me to recognize the power of our feelings. Nowadays, our culture thrives on how we feel. If you feel like doing something, do it. If you don't feel like it - you get the point. Do people still do things though they may not feel like doing them? Of course, but I believe there are fewer of these people in this day. For example, the America of the 1940s required men to enlist for the war. Women had to run households and sometimes maintain part-time jobs to supplement the devastating effects of the depression. Children were expected to be in school or, in very unfortunate cases, work in hazardous factories. These were the days when people did things because you had to, forget how you felt. Now, take for example, the non-profit org I work for. We offer youth ages 17-24 the opportunity to work for pay four days out of the week, while they complete coursework towards their high school diploma in the evenings two days a week and Friday mornings. I will admit that the work is extremely laborious. But the program targets people who could not work it out in the conventional school system for whatever reason - i.e. this is a choice, or a result of not-so-good choices. Still, people will not go to work or school, because they don't feel like it, extenuating circumstances much longer than they ever should.

What is it about us, about our culture that makes us different from our counterparts of yesteryear? How did we get this way? Will it propel us into further laziness and ineptitude, or is it for the greater good? Allowing us to "express" ourselves into the genius of the future? Which is better: the hope that people of the past worked for and had for us or the dreams we currently have for ourselves?

This Black History Month: ASSESS how you feel.