Introspect

Escape Door

2010-02-26T20:17:00.003-05:00

I can get lost behind my eyes
within my soul
My body becomes a shell
as my soul searches for a better reality
Something tolerable
Something it feels more comfortable in

But the reality is, here
In this body, this life,
This world.
You can't escape it.

Matters of My Heart

2010-02-22T02:20:00.003-05:00

I've accepted that I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve. When my heart is involved it's all in and you will know it. I feel. Everything. And usually those feelings drive my actions. I'm extremely empathetic and this can be very burdensome on my emotions and heart. On the other side of that, when there are positive feelings and emotions involved, my heart's capacity to feel them is a blessing.

The risk in this, though, is the heartbreak of not having that action reciprocated. And I've experienced this more often than I'd like. I'm tired and my heart is slowly losing it's steam. My heart is becoming more and more guarded. I'm not as open as I used to be. This scares me somewhat.

Love can be a beautiful thing, and though I haven't experienced it fully, I know that my heart is capable of giving it. I have so much love in my heart and just want the opportunity to share that with the right person. Only God knows...

TRUST

2009-06-16T11:01:00.005-04:00

It's an issue for me. The big "T" word. Maybe it's because a couple of important people in my life have made it difficult for me to trust them. Or maybe I just question everything. It's so easy for people to tell a lie, how do you know the difference between BS and the real honest truth?

I'm always questioning people's actual motives and intentions. Does he really like me? Is he really attracted to me? What do these people really think of me?

On the flip side of this I may not trust what people say, but I do believe in action. I believe a person's actions over a word they speak any day. I'm starting to think this may have screwed up my love life to some degree. I end up reading too deeply into a person's (selected) actions and never coming to terms with what they are really saying to me, which in most cases is pretty important. I need some balance here. No one's perfect and I'm not going to find someone who will tell me the truth every day, although that would be ideal. lol I think the main problem is that now i start to question every thing a guys says way too early.

The more I think about the root of my lack of trust in words, I think its roots lie somewhere in my insecurities as well. I never think that I am that desirable in general and therefore never believe when anyone is actually interested or attracted to me. This goes for all relationships, work, dating, friends, etc. Either I am scarred from rejections past, or just plain insecure. I think it's a little of both. Constantly trying to prove to someone (for years) that you are a good fit for them and that you are in love with them, and repeatedly being told that your feelings are not what you think they are and in turn being rejected because of his inability to take a risk again, has kind of taken a toll on me .

I need a refresher course in "I'm a fly woman, of course men are attracted to me" lol. I'm getting there though.

Empty Space...

2009-01-09T01:26:00.005-05:00

So, I feel like I should write more. I've neglected this blog heavily over the last year or so. Ok, maybe 2 years. Just a lonely blog filled with old posts, old opinions, old feelings, and some thoughts that I would love to forget...

Soo, now that my 25th bday is quickly approaching, I'm having loads of "Introspect"-ive moments simply because my birthday does that to my mind, but more importantly because turning 25 makes you think, lol. It's a consensus among my friends that we all thought in the 4th grade that at age 25, our adult lives would be set, we'd have our careers, marriages, homes and possibly children on the way. We are all amused at our 9 year old mind's inability grasp all the work it takes to be an adult, lol....

Well according to my yearly horoscope ( which my new roommate sent me) this is a year of change, exciting change for me. It has already begun changing with the passing of my Auntie....the most important woman in my life. Being hired at an awesome agency doing what I love to some degree and living in a city I've adored since childhood. These changes have been wake up calls. My Auntie did so much for me while she was here. I am now going to have a crash course in being an adult without her safetybelt. I miss her everyday and sometimes I still can't believe she's gone. It's a rough transition, but it's God's will and He will see me through this tough time.

I tend to think about the little things that were so special about my Auntie. Her greeting cards for no reason, but that always helped when she knew I was feeling down, sick, or stressed; our talks, her advice, her soft hugs, the way her cheekbones rose so high when she smiled, her eyes chinked up, her voice, and her spontaneous ideas for outtings together, the way she knew me better than I knew myself...

I miss that I won't have a chance to bring my future son, with her favorite name, Isaiah, over to visit....

Her physical place in my life, here on Earth is empty and can never be refilled. Life is crazy...

Soo, I'm hoping I will continue to use this blog this year for it's intended purpose. I'm an instrospective person and getting my thoughts out is therapeutic for me. I hash them out to make sense of them and to put my restless mind at ease. With that,
Peace & Blessings
~E

"Adult World Reality Check"

2008-09-02T12:11:00.006-04:00

One of my new co workers said "In your 20s you're pretending to be an adult and once you hit 30, there aren't anymore excuses for anything . You'll just be looked at as the 30 something trying to act like you're a 20something." There was alot more prefacing and following that comment. The one portion of her comment I remember most is the "pretending to be an adult" part. I am so there! She could not have been more right.

So, I'm turning 25 in like 5 months. For some reason the age '25' is a bit scary and contains much more than I feel I am ready for. I know I'm legally, according the government, an adult. I'm not in school anymore. I'm working full time, making a decent salary.
If I accepted those couple of stipulations to qualify me as an adult, then I'd be cool about turning 25. Here are a couple of reasons why I don't think I quite qualify in the adult category.
1. I don't have my own place, still living with family
2. I am still not so great at creating a budget and sticking to it
3. ETC...

I think your twenties are even more awkward than being a teenager. It's a confusing and scary time. I don't know much of anything about being an "adult," yet I am expected to act like one and conduct business as one.

A New Chapter

2008-07-28T00:14:00.002-04:00

I have to wake up in a little under 4 hours. I must be crazy. Tomorrow is my first day at my new job. It is a position totally foreign to me, although I know I have the skills, I've just never taken on this much responsibility. I will be taking a break from shooting in the field every day and working as an editorial assistant for a bi-monthly magazine/website...in NYC. It is prob the dream job for this point in my life. I am excited, nervous, anxious, and deeply saddened. My emotions are all over the place.

I was offered this job the day of my Auntie's homegoing service, which was bittersweet, but put me in a much more peaceful mood that day. I wasn't supposed to hear about the job for another week after that. My peace came from knowing that ultimately God is in control and everything happens for a reason. I knew she was rooting for me to get this job and is elated for me.

Even though I know my Auntie has gone on to a happier better place, I still find myself thinking about all of the little things I miss about her. So at this time, when I am supposed to be sleeping, I am thinking about the fact that I can't share with my Auntie this exciting time. She would have called me tonight and tomorrow morning (whether i answer or not) wishing me luck and telling me she has all faith in me, she loves me, and is so proud of me. Those little things, I will miss the most. Her random greeting cards, her hugs, emails, and genuine concern for my well-being. I have this strange feeling that I am alone without her. A major portion of my life is gone from this earth and it's hard to deal.

For My Auntie; Sunrise 11/03/1950 - Sunset 7/2/08

2008-07-07T00:26:00.006-04:00

Auntie, praising God for the wonder that is the earth, while watching sun rise on a cruise, summer '06.

How do you put into words the significance of the life of the woman who raised you? Maybe my grief is still too fresh to fine tune my thoughts and reflections on the life of my Auntie. I am supposed to be putting together a poem or short write up for the program which I am having the hardest time completing. I want to create a slide show like I do for for all of my other relatives who pass, but I can't look at multiple photos of her without getting emotional. Trust a slide show will be completed in due time.

The words are not coming out coherently right now. I am praying for strength and I hope it comes soon. She always said we were "two tough cookies"... R.I.P Auntie, you'll always be in my heart.

Relationships

2007-05-15T15:59:00.000-04:00

What is the real reason we decide to have a boyfriend/girlfriend? Is the title just to let the whole world know that you are committed to one person? What if you and your partner were the only two people left on the planet? Would you really need to define yourself as boyfriend and girlfriend?

Why is it that when a person does gain a boyfriend or girlfriend, the rest of their relaionships automatically become less significant. Is it a rule that your boyfriend/girlfriend automatically rises above all of these relationships? It's the mentatlity "I got my boyfriend and he loves me and that's all that matters." For some reason that seems a bit toxic. It seems like setting yourself up for devastation if that relationship ever ends. Sine I have never had someone I would call my "boyfriend" maybe I am speaking from inexperience. I don't know. These things have just been on my mind lately.

Why do I still want to be with someone who has adamantly shown me that he is not emotionally ready for a girlfriend? I still love him and think that there is hope out there for us to finally be the couple I always knew we could be. Just writing that makes me feel insane. Like "Hello!, Earth to Erin! He's just not that into you!"

I can't force him into a relationship or taking a risk and letting himself love. I can't be that girl to snap him out of his habit of being reluctant to trust a woman and let her into his life. Whenever he is ready to take that step in life, I may only be there as a supportive friend and nothing more. I've always been his friend and I don't want to stop being there for him, but when will I be there for me?

If I can't be there for me, who will?

Apple Insomniac Photo Festival

2007-05-05T14:33:00.000-04:00

Anabel Nolan takes a break from planting trees at a tree planting ceremony in Dorchester, MA.

Blogger World:
I recently entered a student photo contest called, the Apple Insomnia Photo Festival. We were given the assignment to shoot anything that we thought depicted the word "growth" and had 24 hours to do so. The grand prize winner of this contest will win a 15" macbook pro and a an 80GB ipod.

As some of you may also know, I definitely could use a new laptop :)...so this is where you all come in. In order to get considered by the judges for the grand prize we have to earn the most votes from the public. The top 25 vote getters move on to the finals.

Voting closes on May 14th, so vote as soon as you can! And tell all of your friends and family to vote too! Here's the link:

http://edcommunity.apple.com/insomnia

To find my photo, you can type "erin edwards" in the search box on this page. It is a photo of a red haired child on a tree stump. You will have to set up an apple log in name and password to vote. It's quick and easy. I promise. :)
If you have any questions email me.
Thank you all soooooo much in advance!
-E
P.S.--The photo at the beginning of this post is my entry :)

Talib and Saul Williams Break IT down-regarding Imus, Hip Hop, mysogyny, Oprah,Willie Lynch, etc.

2007-04-20T20:22:00.000-04:00

[ I'm back :) ]
Saul Williams:

Saul Williams wrote a letter that was posted on Okayplayer's message board today- not sure if he mailed the letter yet. I haven't seen these town hall meetings Oprah had on her show. I heard she was discussing "where hip hop went wrong." She had notable hip hop insiders like Russell Simmons, Common, and Kevin Lyles (journalist) on the show. They disucssed what the root of the relationship between hip hop and misogyny.

Lots of hip hop heads, mostly on okayplayer.com, were not feelin Oprah's denouncement of hip hop without doing her research. Saul Williams just wants her to aknowledge that "there is nothing more negligent than attempting to address a problem one finds on a branch by censoring the leaves." There is a bigger picture. read this. soak it in. i want to know what you think.

Saul Williams' Letter

Dear Ms. Winfrey,

It is with the greatest respect and adoration of your loving spirit that I write you. As a young child, I would sit beside my mother everyday and watch your program. As a young adult, with children of my own, I spend much less time in front of the television, but I am ever thankful for the positive effect that you continue to have on our nation, history and culture. The example that you have set as someone unafraid to answer their calling, even when the reality of that calling insists that one self-actualize beyond the point of any given example, is humbling, and serves as the cornerstone of the greatest faith. You, love, are a pioneer.

I am a poet.

Growing up in Newburgh, NY, with a father as a minister and a mother as a school teacher, at a time when we fought for our heroes to be nationally recognized, I certainly was exposed to the great names and voices of our past. I took great pride in competing in my churches Black History Quiz Bowl and the countless events my mother organized in hopes of fostering a generation of youth well versed in the greatness as well as the horrors of our history. Yet, even in a household where I had the privilege of personally interacting with some of the most outspoken and courageous luminaries of our times, I must admit that the voices that resonated the most within me and made me want to speak up were those of my peers, and these peers were emcees. Rappers.
.
Yes, Ms. Winfrey, I am what my generation would call "a Hip Hop head." Hip Hop has served as one of the greatest aspects of my self-definition. Lucky for me, I grew up in the 80's when groups like Public Enemy, Rakim, The jungle Brothers, Queen Latifah, and many more realized the power of their voices within the artform and chose to create music aimed at the upliftment of our generation.

As a student at Morehouse College where I studied Philosophy and Drama I was forced to venture across the street to Spelman College for all of my Drama classes, since Morehouse had no theater department of its own. I had few complaints. The performing arts scholarship awarded me by Michael Jackson had promised me a practically free ride to my dream school, which now had opened the doors to another campus that could make even the most focused of young boys dreamy, Spelman. One of my first theater professors, Pearle Cleage, shook me from my adolescent dream state. It was the year that Dr. Dre's "The Chronic" was released and our introduction to Snoop Dogg as he sang catchy hooks like "Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks..." Although, it was a playwriting class, what seemed to take precedence was Ms. Cleages political ideology, which had recently been pressed and bound in her 1st book, Mad at Miles. As, you know, in this book she spoke of how she could not listen to the music of Miles Davis and his muted trumpet without hearing the muted screams of the women that he was outspoken about "man-handling". It was my first exposure to the idea of an artist being held accountable for their actions outside of their art. It was the first time I had ever heard the word, "misogyny". And as Ms. Cleage would walk into the classroom fuming over the women she would pass on campus, blasting those Snoop lyrics from their cars and jeeps, we, her students, would be privy to many freestyle rants and raves on the dangers of nodding our heads to a music that could serve as our own demise.

Her words, coupled with the words of the young women I found myself interacting with forever changed how I listened to Hip Hop and quite frankly ruined what would have been a number of good songs for me. I had now been burdened with a level of awareness that made it impossible for me to enjoy what the growing masses were ushering into the mainstream. I was now becoming what many Hip Hop heads would call "a Backpacker", a person who chooses to associate themselves with the more "conscious" or politically astute artists of the Hip Hop community. What we termed as "conscious" Hip Hop became our preference for dance and booming systems. Groups like X-Clan, A Tribe Called Quest, Brand Nubian, Arrested Development, Gangstarr and others became the prevailing music of our circle. We also enjoyed the more playful Hip Hop of De La Soul, Heiroglyphics, Das FX, Organized Konfusion. Digable Planets, The Fugees, and more. We had more than enough positivity to fixate on. Hip Hop was diverse.

I had not yet begun writing poetry. Most of my friends hardly knew that I had been an emcee in high school. I no longer cared to identify myself as an emcee and my love of oratory seemed misplaced at Morehouse where most orators were actually preachers in training, speaking with the Southern drawl of Dr. King although they were 19 and from the North. I spent my time doing countless plays and school performances. I was in line to become what I thought would be the next Robeson, Sidney, Ossie, Denzel, Snipes... It wasn't until I was in graduate school for acting at NYU that I was invited to a poetry reading in Manhattan where I heard Asha Bandele, Sapphire, Carl Hancock Rux, Reggie Gaines, Jessica Care Moore, and many others read poems that sometimes felt like monologues that my newly acquired journal started taking the form of a young poets'. Yet, I still noticed that I was a bit different from these poets who listed names like: Audrey Lourde, June Jordan, Sekou Sundiata etc, when asked why they began to write poetry. I knew that I had been inspired to write because of emcees like Rakim, Chuck D, LL, Run DMC... Hip Hop had informed my love of poetry as much or even more than my theater background which had exposed me to Shakespeare, Baraka, Fugard, Genet, Hansberry and countless others. In those days, just a mere decade ago, I started writing to fill the void between what I was hearing and what I wished I was hearing. It was not enough for me to critique the voices I heard blasting through the walls of my Brooklyn brownstone. I needed to create examples of where Hip Hop, particularly its lyricism, could go. I ventured to poetry readings with my friends and neighbors, Dante Smith (now Mos Def), Talib Kwele, Erycka Badu, Jessica Care Moore, Mums the Schemer, Beau Sia, Suheir Hammad...all poets that frequented the open mics and poetry slams that we commonly saw as "the other direction" when Hip hop reached that fork in the road as you discussed on your show this past week. On your show you asked the question, "Are all rappers poets?" Nice. I wanted to take the opportunity to answer this question for you.

The genius, as far as the marketability, of Hip Hop is in its competitiveness. Its roots are as much in the dignified aspects of our oral tradition as it is in the tradition of "the dozens" or "signifying". In Hip Hop, every emcee is automatically pitted against every other emcee, sort of like characters with super powers in comic books. No one wants to listen to a rapper unless they claim to be the best or the greatest. This sort of braggadocio leads to all sorts of tirades, showdowns, battles, and sometimes even deaths. In all cases, confidence is the ruling card. Because of the competitive stance that all emcees are prone to take, they, like soldiers begin to believe that they can show no sign of vulnerability. Thus, the most popular emcees of our age are often those that claim to be heartless or show no feelings or signs of emotion. The poet, on the other hand, is the one who realizes that their vulnerability is their power. Like you, unafraid to shed tears on countless shows, the poet finds strength in exposing their humanity, their vulnerability, thus making it possible for us to find connection and strength through their work. Many emcees have been poets. But, no, Ms. Winfrey, not all emcees are poets. Many choose gangsterism and business over the emotional terrain through which true artistry will lead. But they are not to blame. I would now like to address your question of leadership.

You may recall that in immediate response to the attacks of September 11th, our president took the national stage to say to the American public and the world that we would "...show no sign of vulnerability". Here is the same word that distinguishes poets from rappers, but in its history, more accurately, women from men. To make such a statement is to align oneself with the ideology that instills in us a sense of vulnerability meaning "weakness". And these meanings all take their place under the heading of what we consciously or subconsciously characterize as traits of the feminine. The weapon of mass destruction is the one that asserts that a holy trinity would be a father, a male child, and a ghost when common sense tells us that the holiest of trinities would be a mother, a father, and a child: Family. The vulnerability that we see as weakness is the saving grace of the drunken driver who because of their drunken/vulnerable state survives the fatal accident that kills the passengers in the approaching vehicle who tighten their grip and show no physical vulnerability in the face of their fear. Vulnerability is also the saving grace of the skate boarder who attempts a trick and remembers to stay loose and not tense during their fall. Likewise, vulnerability has been the saving grace of the African American struggle as we have been whipped, jailed, spat upon, called names, and killed, yet continue to strive forward mostly non-violently towards our highest goals. But today we are at a crossroads, because the institutions that have sold us the crosses we wear around our necks are the most overt in the denigration of women and thus humanity. That is why I write you today, Ms. Winfrey. We cannot address the root of what plagues Hip Hop without addressing the root of what plagues today's society and the world.

You see, Ms. Winfrey, at it's worse; Hip Hop is simply a reflection of the society that birthed it. Our love affair with gangsterism and the denigration of women is not rooted in Hip Hop; rather it is rooted in the very core of our personal faith and religions. The gangsters that rule Hip Hop are the same gangsters that rule our nation. 50 Cent and George Bush have the same birthday (July 6th). For a Hip Hop artist to say "I do what I wanna do/Don't care if I get caught/The DA could play this mothaf@kin tape in court/I'll kill you/ I ain't playin'" epitomizes the confidence and braggadocio we expect an admire from a rapper who claims to represent the lowest denominator. When a world leader with the spirit of a cowboy (the true original gangster of the West: raping, stealing land, and pillaging, as we clapped and cheered.) takes the position of doing what he wants to do, regardless of whether the UN or American public would take him to court, then we have witnessed true gangsterism and violent negligence. Yet, there is nothing more negligent than attempting to address a problem one finds on a branch by censoring the leaves.

Name calling, racist generalizations, sexist perceptions, are all rooted in something much deeper than an uncensored music. Like the rest of the world, I watched footage on AOL of you dancing mindlessly to 50 Cent on your fiftieth birthday as he proclaimed, "I got the ex/if you're into taking drugs/ I'm into having sex/ I ain't into making love" and you looked like you were having a great time. No judgment. I like that song too. Just as I do, James Brown's Sex Machine or Grand Master Flashes "White Lines". Sex, drugs, and rock and roll is how the story goes. Censorship will never solve our problems. It will only foster the sub-cultures of the underground, which inevitably inhabit the mainstream. There is nothing more mainstream than the denigration of women as projected through religious doctrine. Please understand, I am by no means opposing the teachings of Jesus, by example (he wasn't Christian), but rather the men that have used his teachings to control and manipulate the masses. Hip Hop, like Rock and Roll, like the media, and the government, all reflect an idea of power that labels vulnerability as weakness. I can only imagine the non-emotive hardness that you have had to show in order to secure your empire from the grips of those that once stood in your way: the old guard. You reflect our changing times. As time progresses we sometimes outgrow what may have served us along the way. This time, what we have outgrown, is not hip hop, rather it is the festering remnants of a God depicted as an angry and jealous male, by men who were angry and jealous over the minute role that they played in the everyday story of creation. I am sure that you have covered ideas such as these on your show, but we must make a connection before our disconnect proves fatal.

We are a nation at war. What we fail to see is that we are fighting ourselves. There is no true hatred of women in Hip Hop. At the root of our nature we inherently worship the feminine. Our overall attention to the nurturing guidance of our mothers and grandmothers as well as our ideas of what is sexy and beautiful all support this. But when the idea of the feminine is taken out of the idea of what is divine or sacred then that worship becomes objectification. When our governed morality asserts that a woman is either a virgin or a whore, then our understanding of sexuality becomes warped. Note the dangling platinum crosses over the bare asses being smacked in the videos. The emcees of my generation are the ministers of my father's generation. They too had a warped perspective of the feminine. Censoring songs, sermons, or the tirades of radio personalities will change nothing except the format of our discussion. If we are to sincerely address the change we are praying for then we must first address to whom we are praying.

Thank you, Ms. Winfrey, for your forum, your heart, and your vision. May you find the strength and support to bring about the changes you wish to see in ways that do more than perpetuate the myth of enmity.

In loving kindness,

Saul Williams
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Talib Kweli:

Talib posted a blog on his myspace page regarding the same issue, but with less metaphors. He kept it plain and simple. He roots the problem with hip hop's misogynists to Willie Lynch and his goal to keep Africans enslaved physically as well as mentally. Read that too. Real stuff. I wish people listened to this dude and other "concious" MC's more. I mean the people we are discussing so often-in the hood.
Talib Lays It Out

The Convenience Of Comedy- Don't Be Fooled By Your TV!!!

For those not familiar with the Willie Lynch letter, it was a business plan drawn up to ensure that blacks would remain in slavery forever. It explained to the slave owner that if you stripped an African of his/her religion and native tongue, made it illegal for an Arican to go to school or learn to read, separate husband from wife, mother from child, and play up differences like light vs. dark, that African would be in a state of mental slavery. There would be no need for chains, the African would have nothing to struggle against. The African would love his white master unconditionally because loving his master would be his only source of pride. The African would hate thyself, particularly the physical traits that exposed African heritage, such as big lips, big noses and black skin and nappy hair. The letter says that if you put these policies into practice on your plantation, the African will not only be mentally enslaved now, but for GENERATIONS TO COME.

This was systematic destruction of the black family. African women were treated as merely breeders, their husbands and babies sold off. They were routinely raped by their slave masters as used as unwilling concubines. As the African family was being dismantled, America traded in the plantation for industry and grew by leaps and bounds. No need for whips and chains, black people would become the country's biggest labor force and consumer source for free, and still love thy master. The ramifications of slavery and the mental damage it has caused is the biggest problem facing black people today. To be honest about how the past affects the present and future is not living in it. To ignore its affect is to be blind. It is the reason why the black family structure is broken, why we go to jail and fail standardized tests at alarming rates. It is the reason why we still think the white doll is nice and pretty and the black one is ugly and bad, in 2007. It is the reason we are racially profiled, and have higher infant mortality rates, and it is the reason we refer to each other as niggas and hoes.

On the flip, this destruction is also the cause of white priviledge in this country. It is silly to hold the son responsible for the sins of his father, but it is stupid to not acknowledge the vast priviledges that come from the forefathers business plan. The plan was to make sure that the children of rich white male land owners would profit off the land at the expense of black bodies and souls for GENERATIONS TO COME. White people live in better nieghborhoods, live longer, make way more money, and have access to way more resources and opportunities as a direct result of slavery. Affirmative action programs were created to try to achieve a better balance, but you cannot legislate whats in peoples hearts and minds. True, there are more rich black folks on TV, but our neighborhoods are worse than they've ever been. The white community has benefitted so much from slavery, it's no wonder the media tries to discredit anyone who brings it up.

So now they want to talk about double standards? Don Imus can say "nappy headed ho" because rappers say ho all the time? Are you kidding me? That is wrong on so many levels. First, a rapper claims to be nothing but an artist. As I have said before, an artist responsibility is to be honest with the craft. I don't think it's right to call women bitches and hoes, so I don't, if I did, I would be being dishonest with my craft. Don Imus is a journalist and political commentator who wallows in bathroom humor to make up for lack of substance. When it's convenient, he's a comedian. What Imus did had nothing to do with hip hop, do not let them fool you. Hip hop sells, so every time Hannity and Colmes does a show about hip hop, their ratings go up, period. These talking heads on the TV trot out fed up sisters, uncle tom negroes and political vultures who equate hip hop with the devil, but have never heard a record by Lupe Fiasco, the Roots, Immortal Technique, Common, Jean Grae, Little Brother, the Coup, Dead Prez, Zion I and too many other incredible artists to name. They love the earning potential of hip hop, and they how they sound bashing it, but the have zero respect for the art. They sound ignorant.

Many hip hop artists are young black men who have never had the priviledges Imus had growing up. If you have been severly oppressed by white people, and the ramifications of slavery have ensured that your family remains broken and poor, your instinct makes you wary. If a nigga is what you oppressor fears the most, than it is seductive to be the realest nigga out. You attack your women by calling bitches and hoes. It is a defense mechanism, because you are scared to love. Love equals loss in your world. These are not exuses, there are reasons. There are also reasons why Imus called the outstanding Rutger's womens team "nappy headed hoes". It is because he is inherently racist and his white priviledge has blinded him to it. His priviledge allows him to believe these were just jokes without specific historical context, when his brain should have told him he's smart enough and experienced enough to know better.
Don't let the TV tell you that this is about hip hop, or rap, or Nelly, or Al Sharpton, or Hilary Clinton, or Timbaland, or Jesse Jackson. This is about a white man who was doing radio long before Bambatta started Zulu Nation or Herc plugged a speaker into a lamppost. He did not need hip hops permission to call Gwen Ifill, a respected journalist, the cleaning lady for the NY Times 15 years ago. If I'm correct, I think he has daughters, but these young black women were objects to him, not people. His objectification made it impossible for him and his producer to imagine that these women were somebody's daughters. Imus has gotten away with many offensive statements, and he will remain an esteemed member of his community, fired or not. Jimmy the Greek was fired for less, as were many others. Imus will be OK. Even if it wasn't justice (which it was), it was karma. I'm glad those women found it in their heart to forgive him, forgiveness is divine. But they had nothing to prove to him. He was fired for losing advertising dollars, not for disrepecting black women. Now is the time to stand by our sisters, and to stand up for our music. The music is our life and we cannot let those who do not participate regulate it for us.

Talib Kweli....Blacksmith is the Movement

Black Hole, The Abyss

2006-12-04T18:05:00.000-05:00

She saw it coming
She thought she was prepared
She's fallen before
With minor scrapes and bruises, she managed to get back up
Walking away as if nothing ever happened
Everyone would say-
"How does she do it?"
They will never know
-neither will she-
She managed to keep an air about her
An attitude of resiliency
So-she's fallen again
Back into the black hole,
the abyss
Except this time, her scars have not faded
She's a bit disheveled
She looks lost
Lost.

Fantasizing about a New Love

2006-11-18T09:30:00.000-05:00

I posted about this in the past and I was unable to get the song downloaded to give you a sample of this beautiful song. Anyone can relate to this song, it's so honest and beautifully done. This is a version of Fantasize Floetry did on Def Poetry Jam. Enjoy :)

Colorgenics---Tells you about yourself based on the order in which you choose 8 colors; Here is my profile

2006-11-15T12:54:00.000-05:00

Wow...how closer can you get to the truth about me. This is very interesting how my choice of 8 colors can tell so much about my personality. I am always examining and reexamining myself, but this evaluation of me just hit it right on the nose. Every single point was accurate and kind of sad :/ I have something to say about this, but I don't have time to post about it. Will do later though :).

You are a very emotional and sensitive individual. Your life and love of life is dominated by your emotions - you have great feeling towards your fellow man and you are always full of enthusiasm but be careful, you tend to let your heart rule your head and this being so, you could be easily hurt - as perhaps you may have indeed been hurt in the past.

In the past there have been - and maybe there still are - many things that you have had to do without. You have now decided to set your sights on a position or situation that could give you greater prestige and which will afford you considerable self esteem.

You feel very lonely and frustrated at this time but your shyness and modesty precludes you from establishing any deep form of relationship. You feel rather isolated and alone. You are egocentric and you believe that you are always right - well maybe you are - but you have a short fuse and are likely to take offence for the slightest reason.

You are being unduly influenced by the situation that is all around you. You do not like the feeling of loneliness and whatever it is that seems to separate you from others. You know that life can be wonderful and you are anxious to experience life in all its aspects, to live it to the full. You therefore resent any restriction or limitations that are being imposed on you and you insist on going it alone.

You need to be needed and would like a situation where you will no longer be subjected to pressures and demands from those about you. There is no harm in 'dreaming' but it is you - and only you - that can be able to realise those dreams and to turn them into reality.

Randomness

2006-11-01T19:10:00.000-05:00

I am supposed to be writing a story for class and I am drawing a blank, so I figured blogging would help get my "juices flowing." There have been many things going on in my life that I've wanted to blog about but I just have not sat down and hashed them out. So as a result, this blog is going to be a bit scattered and random.

My stepfather passed away.

It was just as hard to type that as it is talking about it. I have never handled death well. Who does? It has all been surreal for me. He died on October 12th at the age of 58. In August he had gotten pretty sick. His body basically gave out on him and his days were numbered. His physical appearance was no testimony to what he was experiencing on the inside. He was strong enough mentally to make us all believe he was going to be here much longer than the time his immune system had alotted him. The last time I saw him( a couple weeks before he passed away), I was sure he would last at least until Thanksgiving. He was energized and the same Paul I had grown to know and love over the last 8 years.

I did not have a close relationship with my stepfather. I actually despised him for a time when I was in high school. I was a teenager and I felt as though he was hindering my quest to get to know my mother. I wanted her all to myself. I was young, stubborn, and rebelious and I didn't communicate that to anyone. Instead I would ignore him.

It wasn't always that way though. When I first moved in with my mother, he helped me to nurture my interest in basketball. A native of Hartford, he took me to the hood (Hartford's NorthEnd) to play ball at the famed Anderson/Parker Center. I loved that place and Paul knew everyone in there, so I got special treatment. He made sure I was taken care of whenever I would go there by myself. All I had to do was tell them I was Paul's daughter. If I came when the gym was supposed to be closed, they would open the gates and say"Oh yeah, you're Paul's daughter." Thanks to Paul's connections, I met Jen Rizotti at a basketball workshop. She said I was a good passer! I will never forget that. Jen Rizotti, one of the best point guards in women's basketball, praised my passing skills during a passing drill.

I know that Paul was suffering and that his passing was the best thing and in God's plan. My faithful mother stuck by his side the entire time and I can not even begin to imagine the agony she felt watching her love die and to now be without him. My pain and sadness is mostly rooted in knowing the pain my mother is experiencing.

"He was my other half. We went everywhere together. I didn't drive anywhere. Paul drove me everywhere. He made up for the things I was naive or dumb about," my mother said in a recent phone conversation.

I will always remember his hearty "Heeey Kid" when I would come home to visit for a break or just to pick up some things. I knew he cared about me because of what he did. He didn't have to say anything. I'm gonna miss you Paul.

Paul, my stepfather, chilling at my house.->

More Thoughts...
Today was a weird day for me. One of those emotional days that come out of the blue. I feel like one of those cartoons walking around with one storm cloud over their head. It was a beautiful day today, unseasonably warm and pleasant. I of course, didn't enjoy it. Basically, the male species sucks. But I am game to anyone from this species who wishes to prove me wrong. Bring it.

17 years of school is enough. I'm ready to get up out of these classrooms and focus on my career, passions, goals,...life. No more papers! No more exams! Down with classmates attempting to impress professors! Down with reading endless chapters of boring material.

I am off of my soapbox now. ;)

Good night and good luck.
~EFIE

Finding Florence

2006-10-07T16:01:00.000-04:00

Part I - The Analysis
* part I and II are not closely related*

So I named this post "Finding Florence" as homage to my grandmother Florence Waller. We never had a chance to meet. She died a decade and a half before I was born. She was only 40. I am her namesake. My parents named me Erin Florence Irene- hence efie-. (Irene is my dad's mom who also died at a very young age)

I don't know much about Florence beyond the stories my mother and some aunts and uncles have told me. There are these two tattered, reproduced photos, one black and white and the other sepia toned which all 19 of her children hang on their walls or use to adorn shelves in their homes in reverance to her. It is the only piece of her that some of the younger ones can hold dear to them, because they were too young to remember her voice, her mannerisms, or the way she wore her hair.

She was this docile, quiet, and somewhat passive woman. She never cursed. I was told the closest she ever got to cursing was "darn it, all." She was very thin and looked pretty darn good for someone who had a child every year for 20 years. She never wore makeup and wore her long silky locks tied up in a braid or two usually.

I see in every one of her children this passivity that I believe she must have had. I even see it in myself. She stayed with the same man, my grandfather, Jerome aka 'Port', in a one bedroom apartment in the projects and gave him children for most of her life. They struggled, but she stayed. He had another family and a wife, but she stayed. He had a temper and ruled their household with an iron fist, and she stayed. Why? Why did she stay?

My grandfather was a massive man. My mother always describes his huge hands as mutant-like, big enough to fit her entire head in his palm. He was a great athlete, a boxer and talented baseball player. His baseball skills, being the best in Bridgeport, earned him the nickname 'Port.' He was also a talented sculptor and painter. He was ambitious.

What was it about 'Port' that Florence saw in him that made her stay? They met in a bowling alley when she was just 19 years old. He was considerably older than her. Did she fall in love with him and the fantasy of the life he promised to give her? Whatever character flaw my grandmother had that allowed her to put up with less than she deserved from a man yet do it so gracefully, is something that I find in myself.

We give people we love the benefit of the doubt. I am assuming she loved him so much she just knew in her heart that one day he would accomplish the dreams and goals he set when they first met. She stuck by his side even though he never married her and remained married to another woman with whom he had 8 children. She stuck by his side as that same woman sucked up any money he earned like a leech once he divorced her, leaving my grandmother and her children with the minimal amount needed to survive. Did she feel stuck? Was it all of the children?

I put up with the nonsensical things that guys I care about do or say and I stay, when I should go. I guess it's that little bit of Florence I have in me.

Part II- The Incident

It's always a weird feeling when you call someone and the first thing they say is "I was just talking about you." I've been hearing this alot lately. It's a weird psychic/esp'ish feeling. So I wasn't suprised on Tuesday evening when I heard that same phrase from friend/ex "friend."

*editor's note- "friend"= the term used when you are in an undefined relationship or situation (that isn't very healthy at all). It is often times used as a crutch in order to keep someone in your life whom you can see yourself having a relationship with, but it was never made official for whatever reason. This "friendship" is not platonic in any sense. There are blurred lines, which end up being crossed because they are not clearly drawn, causing broken hearts, and eventually a tattered friendship. It may never be a normal friendship-*

I reply, as usual , "What were you talking about, and who were you talking to?"

X"friend"-"My Aunt; we were talking about our pasts with eachother and you came up quite a few times."

Me-"Ok..what about me?"

x "friend"-"Ok, I'm just gonna say this, because it's on my heart. I'm just gonna say it, ok?"

Me -(silent-thinking, what craziness is he about to tell me ? He loves me? He wants to be with me? He got someone pregnant? He has a STD?)-my mind was wandering like a mug
"Ok"- I said, apprehensively.

x "friend"- "If I've ever done anything in the past that deceived you in any way- I apologize. I'm sorry."

Me-(Silent for like 8 seconds) "I don't know what to say."

x "friend"- "You don't have to say anything"

So, basically it took a heart to heart with his Aunt, to realize things I've been saying to him for like 2 years. This x "friend" is the subject of a couple of other posts on Introspect. I fell in love with this guy. He was saying one thing ( "I'm not ready for a relationship/dating") but his actions and my interpretation of them kept me hanging on. We were pretty much a couple and extremely indenial about it. I was wifey for about a year and a half, but he didn't have any real obligations to me nor I to him, since I technically was not his "girlfriend" and he was not my "boyfriend." That caused alot of drama and confusion.

I don't know how much I should read into this apology but I'm glad he actually recognizes his role in the situation. He would always use the fact that he told me he wasn't ready for a relationship or dating. Relinquishing himself of any fault. As if it was all me. I am cringing as I think of this cliche, but it's true- "actions speak (so much) louder than words."

They say home is where the heart is...

2006-08-21T18:13:00.000-04:00

Sooo, it's been a while since I've opened up on Blogger once again. I don't like to make excuses for myself, so I won't.

I am home. Well, in Connecticut that is. It was wierd driving down 91 South with my father, listening to NPR and talking about current events and my career yesterday afternoon. Connecticut is such a beautiful state and I definitely missed the greenery being in the desert all summer. It's just not the place for me right now. I have so much baggage here and I had gotten accustomed to not carrying it- being that whenever I do come to CT, it is usally just a passing through type of visit. I don't stay long enough to have to deal with anything. Things with the fam are beginning to unfold on a variety of levels and I feel lost in the wreckage. Whenever I have the opportunity to leave, I'm bouncing. Sounds harsh, but this has become my twisted way of dealing with things, since I was a teenager. When things get crazy, I try and avoid it as much as possible. It has been a way for me to keep my sanity.

I've determined myself to be a nomad in a sense, since I don't really have a true foundation I can call home. Wherever life takes me, whether it be school or work, that's where I'll go, until I can make a home for myself. For now that seems to be Boston, or maybe Paris...who knows?

On a lighter note, I just returned from the NABJ convention in Indianapolis. Once again, it was a great 4 days in professional development and I made important contacts. I was also able to reunite with my photog girlies and we had a good time exploring Indy. There were some unforgettable as well as some very forgettable moments in Indy. Overall though, I'm glad I went and I didn't want to leave to come back here... that's for sure.

It's interesting how much is in a name or a word. "Home" isn't just a dwelling to me. I truly believe it is"where your heart is," where your foundation is, comfort, and some sense of stability. It should be a place you can go back to whenever your life starts to get out of control and you need some sort of neutral ground.

Here's Common's perspective on "Home." It's a little dark, but I feel it.

They say home is where the hate is
My dome is where fate is
I stroll where souls get lost like vegas
Seen through the eyes of rebel glasses
Pray to god that my arms reach the masses
The young smoke grass in grassless jungles
Rubberband together in cashless bundles
We wear struggling chains
Divided only hustle remains
Making sense of it we hustle for change
Revolution ain't a game
It's another name
For life fighting
Someone to stay in they corner like Mike Tyson
Hypes fighting for hits to heighten they hell
Don't he know he only get as high as he fell
Show money becomes bail
Relationships become jail
Children are unheld
I wish love was for sale
Behold the pale
Horse got me trapped like r. kel', I bail and it-

Might not be such a bad idea if I never, never went home again
I'm on my way home
I left three days ago
But no one seems to know I'm gone
Home is where the hatred is
Home is filled with pain and it
Might not be such a bad idea if I never
Never went home again.

I Just Want To Know WHY??

2006-07-07T03:08:00.002-04:00

What does it mean when everything is going wrong? Like a row of dominoes, one trouble keeps coming after the other, as if they are in some sort of agreement to make me miserable. I'm sure that God has a plan for me and this all has meaning, but I wish I knew what it was now. It would save me the grief. All of these horrible things that keep happening, progressively get worse, but they all surround this great experience I am having in Arizona. It is a learning experience on many different levels for me. Learning experiences are a part of life. You take the good with the bad and chalk it all up to great learning experiences.

Along with the learning, I am also experiencing some serious growing pains.

Although I am, on the outside, very calm and collected, there is a whirlwind of emotions inside of me, that I choose not to expose to anyone. First, Wednesday, I was in a horrible car accident. I am blessed to still be here and able to share this story. The car was totalled and I luckily had my seatbelt on, so I escaped with the very minor injuries of a left knee contusion and some muscle strains in my neck and back. I was t-boned by a speeding driver with no license, insurance or registration, and who could barely speak English. Yeah. The car was in the shape of a U...and if I had someone in the car with me, they may not have survived.

Prior to the accident, which has lost me valuable time on my internship, I had mentally draining family drama, car issues-i.e. rentals and flat tires-and adjustments on the job. I am starting to feel a little negative about this experience right about now. I am thinking, these series of unfortunate events are God's way of telling me something. I'm not sure what that may be yet. It can only get better from here, right?

The Road So Far...

2006-06-25T10:24:00.000-04:00

Well, I will keep my word and update you all on my time here in the Grand Canyon State. Sometime back in December I was accepted into the Pulliam Journalism Fellowships as a photographer. I was ecstatic because I had only applied for two internships at that point and got one of the two. This was the one I wanted because there was the option to work in Indianapolis at the Indianapolis Star or in Phoenix at the Arizona Republic. My choice was clearly Phoenix because I have always wanted to see the west coast. I also have a maternal Uncle and Aunt who live in the Phoenix area or the Valley. So I had the opportunity to work an internship without having to worry about rent!-all signs were pointing towards Phoenix.

The Family
So I'm here now. I'm staying in Avondale, which is about 17 miles southwest of Phoenix, with my Uncle, his wife,their 8-year old daughter, and my 19-year old cousin who was living with them before I got to Arizona. My Aunt lives fairly close. I knew them before I got here, but now I am getting to know them beyond the random family picnics, gatherings, or the funerals at which we met before.

My Uncle, Marky, has always been the one uncle of my mother's 18 siblings, that I havehad a chance to meet, I have had more of a connection with. My first memory of meeting him, was at a cookout when I was about 10 or 11. I didn't even know he was my uncle at that point. All I knew is he was a good dancer and he grabbed my hand and started to dance with me on the grass. I remember copying every move he did and when I got it right he would nod in approval and smile and my stomach would flutter. I had so much fun. He is a photographer also. He shoots mostly weddings and events, although he is taking a break right now. He's always smiling and making corny jokes. He loves pool and he has such a good heart. He would do anything to help his family.

His wife, originally from Aruba, is an outspoken, petite woman who loves butterflies and Mariah Carey. She is so cute! She says what she has to say and gets things done.

Cydney, their daughter, is a little ball of energy. She just keeps going and going like the energizer bunny---until she crashes, hard, at night. She's a gymnast and loves to torture their dog, Fluffy. If you've ever seen Finding Nemo, just think about the dentist's daughter in that movie. That is Cydney!! lol

Finally, there is Mallory, my 19-year old cousin, transplanted her from Las Vegas. Her mom, her mom's boyfriend and her two brothers decided to move to Los Angeles and she wasn't ready to leave Vegas until she finished her senior year of high school. So, she stayed in Vegas and ended up here with Uncle Marky a couple of months ago. She's interested in photography and wants to pursue it once she starts school. She's a talker and once you get her going, it's hard to stop her. Love her tho. It's my mission to get her out of the house and motivated.

The Job
I am working my first photography internship for a large daily newspaper. While I am so excited, nerves always find their way into my experiences. Here is what was going through my mind the first week or two of this internship.
This is something I have never experienced before. I am in a new place and expected to find my way to assignments on time- aah I have some issues outside of the job that are taking my focus away from my job. Let's just say, I am on my fourth rental car since I've been here and each is a story within itself. Family drama that I try not to think about, always finds a way to resurface when I have pushed it so far in the back of my brain.
I'm not good enough, I don't know enough...blah blah blah.

I was STRESSED- and it was all my own doing. My mental struggles started to seep into my work and I wasn't showing any creativity. I was getting hella lost going to assignments and showing up late. I would be so mentally drained by the time I got to the assignment, I just wanted to shoot it and get it over with. I barely tried to produce something creative. Since the sun light is so harsh here, strobe (flash) needs to be used for everything and generally in newspapers, it is expected to be used for almost everything. I had minimal experience using a strobe or the camera they gave me, so I basically was turning out crappy pictures, in my opinion.

So now, today, I am so much more relaxed. This past week has been a turnaround week for me. I had a talk with a photo editor and other photographers. They gave me ultra helpful tips on using the strobe. I am turning out higher quality images and I generally feel happier about it. I just need to learn not to let other things outside of work seep into work. I have to keep them separated. I am finding my way and not getting lost as much. I am leaving earlier for assignments in case I do get confused or lost. Stay tuned for more...I will update 1000 Words with some of my work soon.

It's Been A Minute....

2006-06-12T01:21:00.001-04:00

...since I've posted on either of the blogs. So much has happened. First, I graduated- enter Erin running and clicking the back of her heels together in mid air, lol. I am now officially an alum of Temple University. Crazy. I've also been vacating and traveling. As a graduation present, my Auntie took me on a cruise. What an experience! First of all, I've never been outside of the United States, not even to Canada, so just doing that was great. Our cruise started in Miami, then off to Grand Cayman,Cayman Islands, to Ochos Rios, Jamaica and back to Miami. It was a five day cruise. Even though I knew that the earth was 75% water, being surrounded by it for a day with no land in sight is an entire different thing. I got a little cabin feverish at one point. I took maddd pictures, so I'm hoping I will have time to post a few of them on 1000 words.

I am currently in the "Grand Canyon State" working this wonderful internship at a huge, daily newspaper. I feel so blessed. I luckily have family here, which not only saves me much mula as far as rent is concerned, but also makes it easier to adjust to the drastic changes. The climate difference, the time difference, the culture shock, and social adjustments. If left alone in this situation, I may have been a little crazy. The climate is the most interesting adjustment. You THINK you know heat...but you really don't until you have come to Phoenix, Arizona. It's HOT. I thought I knew what hot was, but nope. I didn't know black people who use sunscreen could still get sun burn. ONLY in Arizona. lol I'm burned and peeling people. The first weekend I was here, it was unseasonably hot. It hit 117 degrees that weekend consecutively.

I'm enjoying the moment right now. I am taking it all in and praising God the whole way. I'll update this and the other blog with all of my experiences. There is so much to tell, but I'm a bit tired . So, goodnight folks!
~E

10 years later

2006-05-05T11:59:00.000-04:00

We met in the fourth grade. I was nine years old. At Ms. Jeannie's house on Miles Street, I was the ultimate tomboy, playing football, tag, suicide, and whatever creative games we made up, with the boys after school. One warm afternoon, the boys asked me if I wanted to play basketball, which I had never played. Of course I agreed, I was not one to turn down a good competition. We played a game of five on five right there on Miles Street using a stolen milk crate attached to the telephone pole as our basket. Tamir had somehow cut the bottom out. I still have no idea how he did that. I can't remember if my team won, but I played my heart out. I even uttered my first curse word out of frustration of missing a shot. It was a great feeling. We played until the street lights came on and even then I didn't want to stop.

I came to love the game of basketball. I learned about the game from my older friend Tamir, by watching NBA games and playing NBA Live video games. I played pick up games here and there. I watched faithfully as the infamous UConn Women's basketball team in '95 went a whole season undefeated (30-0) , dethroned the reigning national champion, Tennessee Lady Volunteers, and put Women's basketball on the map. I had favorite players, but I never had a favorite team. In most cases I would root for the underdog, but when it came to college basketball, men or women(this is still true) UConn was the team I was rooting for.

In the sixth grade, I thought I wanted to play pop warner football, but myAuntie convinced me that it would be dangerous. PAL (Police Activities League) kinda found me that year. All of the guys in my school were playing ball on a team for them, so I decided to go out for a team that year. I ended up being the only girl on my team, named after the college team, Villanova. I played center, given that I was taller than all of the guys on my team at the time. They all probably got me by about a foot by now. We had a horrible season, winning only one game. We were a new team, every other team had veteran players and had been playing with eachother for at least a year. We had to adjust to one another. We flipped that around the next year and almost went undefeated until the post season, losing in the first round of the playoffs. I'll never forget Coach Carlos and my boys. I learned so much and developed into a pretty decent player.

During my second season playing for Villanova, it was announced that the innaugural season of the WNBA would start that summer('97). I could not have been more excited. The now defunct ABL had already been in action, but there was so much more hype with the formation of the WNBA. The Women's Olympic team had formed their own "Dream Team" and
just won the gold in Atlanta. The likes of Lisa Leslie, Sheryl Swoopes, and Rebecca Lobo (Uconn Alum) would be automatic bids in the innaugural draft. I remember attending the New York Liberty's first game at the Garden that season. I think they played the Phoenix Mercury. Back then I took ballin more seriously and thought I might one day be in the WNBA. I watched every game that was televised that season and Cynthia Cooper of the Houston Comets (champions that season and for the next three seasons) became my favorite player. I modeled my style of play after her, when I became a shooting guard in high school. I wore the same signature ponytail she had and I even wore her number (14) when I played in high school. She was the Michael Jordan of the WNBA.

Now, ten years later, the WNBA is still going strong, and I am still a loyal fan of the game. In ten years they have twice as many teams. There were only eight teams in 1997 and there are now 14 teams. There is even a team in my home state ( Go Conneticut Suns!). It is the tenth anniversary and no longer are they the unknowns proclaiming "We got next!" I feel like I have grown with the league over these last ten years. I watched as teams got added and then removed the next season, and as my favorite players retired or were traded to a new team, i.e Cynthia Cooper, Sue Wicks, Kym Hampton, Teresa Weatherspoon, Sophia Witherspoon. I watched and cried as Kim Perrot, of the Houston Comets, fought and lost her battle with breast cancer.

The tenth anniversary season tips off 15 days from now and I will be watching as usual. If you haven't gotten a chance to experience a WNBA game, you should. If you love the game of basketball, you will enjoy it. If you are looking for the flash or dunks that the NBA sometimes brings, you will not find that here. Their style is defined by hustle, defense, and fundamentally sound play. Although there is almost a guarantee you will get a dose of flash or dunks if you watch a game featuring the play of Diana Taurasi( Phoenix Mercury and UConn Alum:) ), Ticha Penicheiro(Sacramento Monarchs) or Michelle Snow(Houston Comets).

22 televised games this season. Watch it. :)

Drunken Nights

2006-05-04T16:48:00.000-04:00

Last night I committed one of my not so uncommon follies. I go to the Draught Horse with an old friend and four vodka and cranberries later, I'm "doin' the butt" in the middle of the 10 by 10 wooden floor, they call a dance floor. I am graduating soon and with an effort to go out with a "bang," I find myself walking zig zagged down Broad Street to eventually be carried on the back of my friend. I did a couple other things that night that I woke up regretting. Oh, those drunken nights... :/

My drunken behavior is sometimes fun and funny. It's not so funny when I find myself gushing over a past love that I am supposed to be over in my sober mind. Unfortunately the drunken me does not agree. I just get ultra talkative when I drink, which is so not my normal character. I sometimes say things that I regret saying or that I've been thinking about saying, but with scrapped inhibitions, it's verbal diharrea like a mug. To the normal eye, what I did was not too much out of the ordinary, but sober 'E' would have handled things differently. If sober 'E' were present, I would have played it cool and would not have left my date for the evening to go and talk my butt off to old dude. Luckily I did not make a complete fool of myself...and I still had a good time:)

Realizations while transitioning...

2006-04-30T12:11:00.000-04:00

Lately I've been going through some things that I've wanted to blog about but could not figure out how to get it out of my brain. I was trying to come up with a general subject and not talk specifically about my personal situation(s). I thought I would generalize it for the blogger public. This wasn't working too well, so I'm just going to vent as was the initial purpose of Introspect. (*Warning- this may be pretty scattered*)

So graduation is in less than 3 weeks and Phoenix just over a month. Wow. Where does the time go? This is not the biggest transition I have had to endure in my young life, yet it is proving to be pretty difficult emotionally. Some of these emotions I can't quite describe or place. It seems as if everything is falling into place, though. I'm graduating and I actually know what I am doing with my life afterwards. It goes as follows:

My Life's Itinerary
May 18th- Receive B.A. in Journalism from Temple University for four years of hard work.
~May 20th- Move out of my one bedroom apartment of 2 years ( not looking forward to that :(
May 27th-June 1st- My first cruise with beautiful people that I love
June 2- August 11- My first real ( real as in paid! yes!) photo internship in Phoenix, AZ.
August 16-20th- NABJ Convention in Indy
~End of August/Early September-May '07- Grad school in Boston

So that is about a year of my life planned out and I should be real relaxed right now- for some reason I'm not. My favorite India.Arie quote (she really speaks the truth) is -

"The only thing constant in the world is change."

This is so very true but it is also not the easiest thing in the world to endure. Most people when having to adapt to a new lifestyle, city, job, mate, family, etc. do not have the easiest time. It is definitely a learning experience and certain changes or transitions in life can help you to define who you are. So in the end you come out on top, but while in the midst of it, it can be a pretty confusing time.

I now understand that quote about fearing success. I don't fear it so much that I am letting my fears get in my way, but I just feel so unsettled right now. My fears in success lie in things I probably won't care much about a year or maybe even months from now. I fear that the path I am headed may cause me to have to delete( for lack of a better word) certain friends from my life. And boy am I the worst person at making new friends. I'm comfortable being the loner and introvert that I am, but it has had an effect on my social life. The few people I can call friend I would like to think that we could remain friends for as long as possible.

Unfortunately the latter has already been proven to be false. Three of the people still here at Temple that I spent the majority of my social life with and I are on the outs. It is that point where you are like "Dag, I thought we were friends, but I guess not." When something as petty as five dollars ( that is not worth being explained) can end a friendship, you know that you need to move on in life. You just realize that some people are meant to hang around in your life and some are just temporary. It hurts, but c'est la vie, right?

Everything happens for a reason and nothing lasts forever are the two cliches that are flashing like neon signs in Vegas in my brain at the moment. What a key time for me to recognize that certain folks and I were not meant to share friendship for longer than the four years of undergrad. God is trying to tell me something.

A fellow female photog and I were having this disucssion on the way back from a wedding shoot. She says "Some friends are good for certain things" Maybe some friends are only good for certain time periods.

Have you ever assumed you were in a place that you were really not? I guess a hurried assumption of sorts. When you think that you are cool before you actually get to a place and then when you actually are faced with the reality of what that place feels like, you realize you weren't ready for it at all. For me that was assuming I was at a point in getting over a love. Although I am moving on, I am not totally there yet. I haven't moved yet. It is still a work in progress. I am trying though. Hey, I miss him. I am not afraid to admit that. That's real. I am just waiting for the day when I am unaffected by him and am somewhat indifferent, if that day ever comes- sigh-*

Well, that is the end of my brain fart-lol- for the day. Peace and Love.
~E

"Beautiful Surprise"

2006-04-23T15:06:00.000-04:00

India.Arie's music always speaks to me and the way I feel or a situation I am experiencing at that time. We must be kindred spirits ;). Her new album comes out on June 27, Testimony: Vol. 1, Life & Relationship. Go get it. I'm sure it's gonna be hot.

"Beautiful Surprise," from her second album, Voyage to India, is one of those songs that is relatable to anyone who has a new love. It is that epiphany type moment when you realize that this love is real and right. You don't even know where this feeling came from, but it feels good. It kind of just sneaks up on you one day. This is why I love her music. It is real and relatable. Here are the lyrics to "Beautiful Surprise."

It's like yesterday I didn't even know your name
Now today
You're always on my mind
I never could have predicted that I feel this way
You are beautiful surprise
Intoxicated every time I hear your voice
You've got me on a natural high
It's almost like I didn't even have a choice
You are a beautiful surprise
Whatever it is you came to teach me
I am here to learn it
cause I believe that we are written in the stars
I don't know what the future holds
But I'm living in the moment
And I'm thankful for the man that you are, you are, you are

You are everything I ask for in my prayers
So I know my angels brought you to my life
Your energy is healing to my soul
You are a beautiful surprise
You are an inspiration to my life
You are the reason why I smile
You are a beautiful surp rise

Stream of Conciousness

2006-04-09T13:22:00.000-04:00

A friend's blog inspired me to dig up this old poem. I wrote it about a year ago. My style of poetry, if you can call it that, is considered "stream of conciousness," according to my poetry professor last year. I write as if I am having a conversation with my own thoughts. This poem is not the best example of that but I think it is one of the most interesting poems I've written to date. It makes me wonder if you can really define or capture love.

Love captured between bodies
Between deep felt stares
Between hours of significant or
insignificant conversations
A love unspoken
A love not acknowledged in other realms perceivable

A love that burns
A love that is in need
A love that yearns for more
A love of secrets whispered
A love with great magnitude
Holding, …holding, on
To love
To this love
A love that cherishes its parts
Its insecurities
Its idiosyncrasies
Its shortcomings
Its company
It’s “the way I feel when I’m around you”
It’s reading between the lines
It’s hearing the words unspoken
It’s the pauses and ums
There are hopes, visions, fantasies, prayers
That go out into the universe
That this love
A love
Will be felt
Acknowledged
Shared
Love Captured…

Psalm 23

2006-04-05T13:00:00.000-04:00

I needed to read this today... maybe someone else out there needs to read this too. Be Blessed.

1 The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.

2 He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,

3 he restores my soul.
He guides me in paths of righteousness
for his name's sake.

4 Even though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death, [a]
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.

6 Surely goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD
forever.

Cleaning out My Closet

2006-03-28T15:00:00.000-05:00

I started getting my daily horoscope emailed to me as a result of visiting some website. I'm not one to put faith in astrology, but I do think they are interesting to read. They are especially interesting to read when they actually have something to do with what is going on in my life. My horoscope for today reads:

Erin,
You might believe that you have reached the end of an era as a project or a relationship goes through powerful changes. This doesn't, however, indicate that it's all over; it's more about transformation. The days ahead can be less dramatic and traumatic if you are willing to shift your goals with the changing situation.

As I read my horoscope I couldn't help but think about a particular relationship that has been going through a transformation on my behalf. I knew I was changing, but it became painfully obvious this weekend. I have mentioned in a previous post, the circumstances of my first love. Well, the guy and the situation has dominated my mental for two years. He had me on a yo-yo, swinging me back and forth, whenever he felt like it and I was always available. It has been like a mental roadblock, majorly contributing to this. I had been living with the hope of what could have been between us and I never faced the reality of what it actually was-until recently anyway.

So, lately(*the last eight months) I have been trying to mentally detach myself from him and the situation. For me this means cutting off contact. I rarely talk to him and see him even less. It hasn't been the easiest thing I've done. Well, this weekend, that changed. I spent a considerable amount of time with him as a result of him wanting to cook for me. I'm not one to turn down free food and besides, I had done it for him on numerous occassions. Being around him didn't feel the same anymore. I found myself wanting him to leave, whereas in the past I would have been trying to keep him around as long as possible.

I also realized that I had changed and he did not. It was like he thought I wanted him to be there. He even said "you're going to wish I was here when I leave." I felt wierd spending time with him and I am realizing that this is because I am changing. I am going through a "transformation." It is the "end of an era" as my horoscope says. With graduation coming soon and my move to Phoenix this summer, I am looking forward to time away from him, mentally and physically. I'll be cleaning out my mental closet.

Dateless in Philadelphia

2006-03-23T10:46:00.000-05:00

In the movie Never Been Kissed, starring Drew Barrymore, she returns to her high school, about 10 years later, as an imbedded undercover journalist to report on what really goes on in high school. She begins by reliving her miserable, outcast-like high school years. With the help of her brother, she ironically becomes a part of the "popular" crowd and even is awarded prom queen honors towards the end of the movie. The most important aspect of this film though is that Barrymore's character, has never been kissed. As fairy tale endings go, she ends up falling in love and getting that first kiss she has always dreamed of by the end of the movie.

So, my life somewhat parallels this movie, in that I have never been taken out on anything that would qualify as a date, in my mind anyway. Similar to Barrymore in this movie, I was awkward and shy most of my life. The only "boyfriend" I had as a teenager lasted for a few months in 9th grade--if that even counts. In high school, I was still somewhat a tomboy, just beginning to embrace femininity (whatever that means, lol), so most of the guys I was interested in, became my friends and once you are in friend territory it is very hard to get out.

OK, so maybe I wasn't completely dateless. My junior year of high school, my best friend set me up with one of her male friends, who was definitely more interested in her than me. I went on the date anyway. It was an awkward time. We saw this movie, Zoolander, that wasn't really funny and he did not say much to me the whole night. I had to do most of the talking ( imagine that!). It was obvious he wasn't interested and neither was I. He was a nice guy but kinda boring. That was our first and last date. That was my first date and the last one I can remember. I've been out with guy friends on numerous occassions since then, but none of those were dates in my mind. I would think there would have to be some kind of mutual interest in order for these to qualify as a date.~

So, how has my love life existed without dates? Shouldn't they be coexistant? I feel like I'm missing out on something.

"If a guy really likes you he will take you out, " my Dad first told me and my sister on a road trip to Brown University, my senior year. We were analyzing the fool that had just broken my sister's heart. She fell in love with him and settled for the way he treated her. He never wanted to take her anywhere...he just kept her under wraps. So my dad's rubrick for telling if a guy is interested, has stayed with me and has yet to have been fulfilled by any of my "love interests." It's kind of sad. I have this friend who probably averages about three dates a week and it's stressing her out. I would like to have half of her problem.

I am not going to go into all of the factors that have stopped me from dating, (there are many),but all I want to know is. can I get a break? Sheesh. Can I enjoy art, music, or food with someone I enjoy just as much? Someone who doesn't mind being seen with me, preferably does not already have a girlfriend, and with whom there is a genuine mutual interest. Is that too much to ask?

Stop Playin'

2006-03-22T05:00:00.000-05:00

I forgot how much I was feelin this song until I whipped out Musiq's second album Juslisen' yesterday morning. I was definitely jammin to this in the shower.:) This song should be the soundtrack to my love life up to this point. Enjoy!

It's Lonely at the Top

2006-02-19T10:44:00.000-05:00

Shani Davis, speed skater, wins the gold medal in the 1000m yesterday. He is the first African American to win a gold medal in any Winter Olympics.

I happened to be up early this morning and became engulfed in the speed skating competition. I haven't been watching theWinter Olympics much and I have never watched a speed skating competition. The competition was fierce. There were 21 competitors, racing in pairs, the 1000m of iced track. It was great. I watched as the likes of China, the Netherlands, theUSA and various other countries competed for the fastest times in order to win the coveted three medals.

I watched as American, Chad Hedrick kept the leading time. The commentators would wonder if anyone would beat his time, as each pair failed to do so. The cameras would then cut to Shani Davis in his warm ups and the commentator began to tell his story. He is the first African American man to qualify for the Winter Olympics (Salt Lake being his first, in which he won a silver medal). They then cut to a feel good piece where Davis and his mother discussed his dedication to the sport as a young child in growing up in Chicago. He was ragged on for playing such an unusual sport and not conforming to the usual sports like, basketball or football.

Conforming is a word unknown to Davis. He seems like a loner. Quiet, and often misunderstood, kind of like myself. I watched as the drama unfolded. There was controversy already and he hadn't even began to skate. Members of Team USA felt shafted because he wouldn't skate on the team pursuit, which is kind of like a relay. He wanted to focus on his own race. He didn't train for the team pursuit. He put all of his energies into skating the 1000m and 1500m(Tuesday) -- and it paid off because dude won the gold by like three-tenths of a second or something.

He was interviewed by this blond haired reporter and preceded to give her short answers without much emotion. He had just made history by being the first African American to win gold in an individual sport and he was "pretty happy about it." The reporter proceeded to ask Davis if he was angry looked surprised when he replied "I'm just at a loss for words."

There's no denying it, Davis is rubbing these people the wrong way. His "teammate, " Hedrick, commented on Davis' winning the gold by saying "He skated fast." Shani and his mom are less than pleased with the speed skating folks. She feels her son was denied opportunities, i.e. marketing , because he is brown in a virtually all white sport. Shani is not the only skater who did not want to compete in the team pursuit, why was he the only one questioned about it? He's trying to make his mark on this sport in his own way. Now since Shani is not reacting and doing what these white folks want him to do, he is a rebel. Like my wise friend Dana said earlier today, "This ain't slavery."

Is Blood Thicker than Water?

2006-02-13T19:45:00.000-05:00

You can't choose them. You can't live with 'em and can't live without 'em.
Ideally, it should be that out of everyone in the world, your family would be those which you could entrust with your life, in all realms, not just the physical. ( For the purposes of this entry, I am generalizing family into one category)

I have not really been one to rely on my family for many things, material or emotional. Life just did not play out that way for me. I am very grateful and blessed for the positive role that numerous family members play in my life, without my asking. I have learned though, that realistically the only person I can truly rely on is God and myself. So I guess you could say, from my family, I do not expect much. Someone once told me, "you came into this world alone and you will die alone." That statement is harsh and grave, but true.

I have learned to deal with my own emotions and hash them out alone, when the adults in my life were blinded by their own anger, sadness, or hurt. In many ways, like I said, I am self-reliant. I know that I will always be there when I need me.

This all being said, there are just certain things you know your family will not do--but they love to prove you wrong. After all, isn't "blood thicker than water?"

Due to repeated events of my faith being broken in certain family members, I have come to treat certain friends as if they are family. Is this wrong? It doesn't feel wrong. I love my family, but I am also losing faith in them.

Some Things on My Mind...

2006-02-07T04:07:00.000-05:00

What is dating? And is it even possible in today's society? Does it take a certain level of maturity? Is dating just a cop out for people who are not ready to be in a committed relationship to escape reality? Or is it a way for us to keep our hand in the candy jar searching for the perfect piece to satisfy us?

I'm grappling with these questions right now. My mom and many other wise adults have told me since high school "Date around." "Don't settle." My mom has told me variations of these two phrases the most often. She says "don't be like me" The only guy she ever dated in high school (my father), became her first everything. He was her first boyfriend and father to 4 of her children. She feels she never got a chance to see what was out there, she just got comfortable and settled. Every man she was with (2 in total) after my father she married. She says "don't get stuck." It happens to the best of us. You become smitten and stuck in a rut with one particular person, who may not be placing you at the highest level or treating you the way you deserve to be treated.

It would be ideal to date around and "try out" different people in order to be led to that right person. Although I would like to do this, it never quite works out for me. I get stuck, usually, on one person. I become smitten and see nothing but that person. Or I get into situations in which he is in love with me and I am just chillin. I just want to chill, hang out, and he wants to be exclusive.---not gon' work...

Not everyone can handle the idea that the person they are seeing is dating other women/men in addition to you. I tend to be very territorial/possessive, as do most women, when it comes to men I am seeing. It is inate..I can't change that. I am not overt with my posessiveness though. Men can be the same way at times. To avoid negative reactions, some people keep their dating habits from one another, which only causes major problems, that honesty could have avoided.

So what is dating to you? Help me out...

There's Nothing Like Knowing Yourself... ("Don't Rush Me" Jean Grae)

2006-01-30T01:05:00.000-05:00

Today is my 22nd birthday. Wow. Twenty-two.

Ever since my 16th birthday my birthday has had a different feel to it. The celebrations and ice cream cake are not the only thing I am thinking about.(with the exception of turning 21).

I tend to get very introspective on January 30th. I think about everything (more than usual) like- where I am, what I'm doing and where I'm going. I think about how blessed I am. I think about the things that went wrong in the previous year and the things that went right. Overall, 21 was a good year. It was a transition year for me. It's all starting to make sense~ (a response to Common's third album One Day It'll all Make Sense).

Well, another year is completed on my journey to get to know myself and here's to another blessed year! :)

An Unrequited Love

2006-01-22T23:00:00.000-05:00

I have always had this perfect idea of what love would be like for me whenever I had the chance to share it with someone. I always hoped that It(love for me) would be this beautiful thing that would have me glowing, smiling for no reason, professing it to the world. I don't know. That probably sounds corny and naive. Here's a poem I wrote a while ago. I would describe it as my love fantasy.

Romance On a Rainy Night

Dance with me, Romance me
On a rainy Fall night
Just me and you, you
Kissing me ever so softly
As Duke Ellington and John Coltrane’s
“In A Sentimental Mood”
Plays as quietly and as
Tranquilizing as the rain drops
Tapping on the window-
Our bodies are intertwined
We are so close…We are One
With you I am warm,
Warm as the heat emitting
From the amber fire burning
In the fireplace-
I look up and I gaze into
Your glistening brown eyes and I
See a reflection of myself—
We belong together, we should
Be together for the rest of our lives
I know it, I feel it
You know it as well, because
I became liquid,
I melted in your arms as your
Lips opened to my heart and said-
“I love you”…

The first (and only) experience I've had in love was not near what I had imagined it would be. It started out great, we were friends first. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of falling for someone who didn't want to be fallen for. A bitter, jaded person who had been hurt too often, but slipped up and let me into his bruised heart. It didn't fulfill any of my criteria and it actually made me feel pretty horrible. I spent alot time, hurt and confused, trying to convince the "object of my affection" that I was the one for him. My love was never returned. I had even maintained a friendship that I thought I needed. We relied on eachother and I felt comfort in knowing that he was still in my life. I thought we could have a normal friendship, but the reality is that we can not. Until he doesn't get jealous of dudes I talk to and I can get over my feelings for him, we can not cultivate a genuine friendship.

I put alot of energy into thinking about this person and my feelings for him, and now I am working very hard at moving on. I want to learn from this and hopefully, in the future learn what it is like to love and be loved in return.

First Day Anxiety

2006-01-17T13:20:00.000-05:00

There's something about the first day of classes that never fails to spur up a random (or not so random) bout of anxiety. In elementary school and high school I always loved the first day of school for each respective year. I was anxious to see what the year would bring, what new things I would learn, etc. I also had a nervous anxiety, even though I've always done very well in school, I was always worried about how challenging that particular school year would be. I obviously worry too much. I'm a worry wart. This has carried over into my undergraduate years. Each semester I get this anxious feeling on the first day of classes.

So today was the first day of classes and I woke up very early for my 11:40 Begginner's Tennis class. I made breakfast and I even washed my dishes. (I'm sure this type of activity will not be happening as the semester progresses). Even though it was just tennis, I had this fluttery feeling in the pit of my stomach. I thought it would go away by the time my class was underway, but it didn't. It just changed into this unsettling feeling. It persisted until the end of my late night shift at work when I realized the true root of this prolonged anxiety. This is my last semester at Temple. Walking around our wet campus on this gray and dreary day, I felt a little emotional. Walking by familiar spots, bittersweet memories flashed through my mind. The bell tower, Mconigle Hall parties, J&H. I was once an eager, naive, and excited freshman on this campus that once seemed so vast but was now made small by routine and familiarity.

I'm looking forward to the next chapter in my life, but it's always bittersweet when one ends. My years at Temple were quite possibly the best years of my life, so far. I've learned so much about myself. I've made friends that I will have for life and learned lessons that I will take with me for life. With exactly 4 months until I walk across that stage to receive my B.A. in Journalism, the idea of life after Temple is becoming more real. So until May 18, I'm going to continue making those memories with those friends who will be there to remember them when we're old and have grandchildren.

Skeletons

2006-01-04T17:24:00.000-05:00

A poem I wrote recently...

Like layers of wool being pulled back
Off of my eyes
Shedding some skin
Seeing the light
Facades lifted
Racing through my head
Are thoughts
Why? How? and
When?
I'm unusually calm
Must be
Maturity kicking in now
Or maybe I'm used to this...

Une Belle Chose

2005-12-21T00:07:00.000-05:00

Talib Kweli has to have the realest song I've heard about love. His song "Love Language" , from the album Reflection Eternal has to be the best description of the dynamics in love and the relationshisp between a woman and man, which isn't always easy to express with words. The hook is sung by Les Nubians in French. It's beautiful and made me regret not continuing French in college. French is such a romantic and sexy language. So I thought I'd share it with the blogger heads.

L'amour n'a pas de, frontiere
Restes car je t'aime comme tu es
J'ai traverse l'ocean du verbe
Et je t'ai trouve

English Translation:
(Love has no boundaries
Stay because I love you as you are.
I've crossed an ocean of words
and I found you.)

Here's the whole song...Let me know what you think

Yo, we're going to have the word love
in many different languages translated all through the track
So, whenever you hear the word love
Know that, it's going to be in a different language
The language of love cannot be translated, yo

Love is blind, you just see bright light
You up in the club feelin' the night life, lookin' for the right type
Blood rushing to your heart making it beat
When she swept you off your feet and made it complete
You know the plan you had to conquer the world
Thinking you Scarface, looking for that perfect girl
And now you found her
Started with romantic, then got to frantic
Then things thats normally small become gigantic
Now y'all sinkin like the Titanic here come the panic
Bein with you like a habit without you I can't stand it
It's tragic when you wonder when you lost that magic
Without understanding that you never had it try to grab it
In the bed gettin a nut off, communication cut off
Getting mad cause you turned on wondering where she shut off
Constantly comparing you to someone in my past
We don't smile anymore, and we argue over cash
Advance to that physical shit
See what happens if you keep talkin
See what happens if you lay a finger on me motherf...
Yo, see what I'm sayin'
It's like one big mind game that everybody playin and
Niggas say bitches is trife, bitches say niggas is
We just don't understand our fundamental differences
I'm still learning though, actually
I just do what come naturally, naturally, naturally

(Chorus):
L'amour n'a pas de, frontiere (Love has no boundaries)
Restes car je t'aime comme tu es (Stay because I love you as you are)
J'ai traverse l'ocean du verbe (I crossed an ocean of words)
Et je t'ai trouve (And I found you)

[Talib Kweli]
Women thrive on emotions, men refuse to acknowledge
So when we arguin nobody win
Words get in the way time and again
Sticks and stones break your bones words break your heart
Whether you in touch with that part or not say "word"
Words are weapons for the revolutionary
Used for evil make the situation very scary
Word up, but love is brave
It flies in the face of fear
Yo, wherever you want to go love'll take you there
Let's go, you know a flower that grow in the ghetto
Know more about survival than the one from fresh meadows
It got love for the sun, that's where I'm comin from
Spit in this fashion cause I love rockin over drums
Word (te quiero) I put my love into my music
If you with me then you love how I do it
If my heart you're livin' in your ocean I'm swimmin' in
Never drowning got me floatin' watching you in slow motion
Love potion overdosin approachin
The explosion of my senses everyday without your heart
is like a sentence in jail
Trust I'll always be mentally free
You got the key to let it out I'll show you how it could be
Love {*different language*} it ain't nuttin but a word
A chicken ain't nuttin but a bird
Yo, yo, yo

(Chorus):
L'amour n'a pas de, frontiere (Love has no boundaries)
Restes car je t'aime comme tu es (Stay because I love you as you are)
J'ai traverse l'ocean du verbe (I crossed an ocean of words)
Et je t'ai trouve (And I found you)

[Talib Kweli]
Some of y'all in love with that material but
love enter my life like a miracle and
It reciprocal that's why I'm feeling you love
We exibit our natural behavior
Like making love under the moon in Jamaica
Get you so hot you call the name of the creata
The morning we hop back into action again
Up on the wall lovin how the sun blacken your skin
Remember when we explored the beach
Swam in the ocean and saw beneith
How the colors of the coral reef looked like the illest floral peice
That's what your beauty remind me of
It's hard to find a love like ours, taking it high above
Them other duns try to spit game but, I dont sweat it though
Know in my heart that we connected so I let it go
Now if they call you out your name and that's a different thing
Anything but Queen I'll go to war like a King
Your friends sweat you cause you aint got a band
But they dont understand
Some things is meant to stay between a woman and man
And they ain't privy to it so they try to get into it
Both you and me see through it so the way we flow is fluid
We speak the love language, they speak from pain and anguish
Some don't love theyselves so they perception is tainted
Out they joint like "Shit, he payin for your rent" missin the point
When you rub me into your skin just like an ointment
It's more than pillow talk, it can't be translated
Learn how to speak it, and become emancipated
It's a language

Universal love...

(Chorus):
L'amour n'a pas de, frontiere (Love has no boundaries)
Restes car je t'aime comme tu es (Stay because I love you as you are)
J'ai traverse l'ocean du verbe (I crossed an ocean of words)
Et je t'ai trouve (And I found you)

Love love love love, love, love (Repeated)

My Quote For the Day

2005-12-07T12:57:00.000-05:00

Sitting under the hair dryer, this came to mind:

"Plagued by the history of broken hearts past, I am afraid to engulf myself in the mystery that is you."

Pretty profound....

"He's Different"....

2005-12-03T11:37:00.000-05:00

What is it that causes women, when entering a new relationship, to say variations of the grave phrase "But he's different..." Scarred by some previous failed relationships in which you were underappreciated, treated like a dude, verbally abused, etc,..you want to marry the next man who holds the door for you at the supermarket.

I was just having this conversation with my girl Yjarvoe this weekend. We are all so quick to say "He's different" in the first days or weeks of meeting someone new. If you think back to the beginning stages of those failed relationships, you will realize that Jerk number 1,2, or 3 was" different" too. He was actually trying to win you over at that time. The problem is he got too darn comfortable when he got you and started acting a fool. I've been guilty of this hurried assumption and crushed when Mr. Different changed into Dr. Jerk.

Dudes are like a highschool basketball player, who surpasses the necessity of college basketball only to stink it up in the NBA. They put all of the emphasis on the preparation of fufilling, what I'm sure is a lifetime goal, of being drafted into the NBA. They failed to realize that there was more work needed to actually succeed in the NBA. They got complacent. BIG mistake. In the same way, there is work that goes into keeping a woman beyond winning her interest--if keeping her is what he wants. And ladies, if he actually does this, he just might be, different.

GRE's, Sleeplessness, Scattered Thoughts

2005-11-20T23:34:00.000-05:00

OK, so I'm taking the GRE tomorrow morning at 7:30 and I am still awake when I should be sleeping. Trouble is I can't fall asleep. Chalk it up to nervousness or the fact that I slept in this morning. I don't know. So I decided to post, since I haven't in a while.

Song playing: "Lover's Only" Maxwell Now.

Taking the GRE is making me think about what is to come after I take it. It's kind of scary because I have no idea what that is going to be. I'm only applying to three schools, so I'm hoping at least one of them accepts me. I really only want to attend one of three but I'm trying not to tell people so as not to ginx it. I pray that things only get better and more exciting from here for me. I was talking to my oldest sister this morning and she was like "You're gonna be famous, man" as she went into a made-up anecdote of seeing my photos from Africa in a National Geographic issue at her doctor's office and her boasting that I am her little sister. That made me feel really good to hear that from her, because I admire her so much.

My sister has accomplished so much despite the many adversities she has faced in life. Whenever I get lazy I think about how hard she worked to accomplish the goals she had in life being a young mother, graduating high school on time and graduating from a prestigious university, while raising three beautiful, responsible, and respectable children. How could I want to give up or be so lazy when I don't have near the adversity or challenges my sister faced. I admire and respect her in ways she probably does not even know.

So, like my previous post describes, I've been "fantasizing" lately. There's a fellow that I can not stop thinking about or talking about/to. It's crazy because I haven't felt like this in a long while and it is a good feeling, but a little scary. I love hard. So, when I catch feelings for someone I kind of wear my heart on my sleeve leaving me a bit vulnerable. The last time I had this feeling and allowed myself to be so vulnerable----it left me heartbroken. This time, I'm trying to be optimistic as well as careful with my heart. It's not that serious yet, but it's cool and I like it. :)
ALLright, I think I should probably get some sleep now..
~E~

Fantasize

2005-11-12T16:25:00.000-05:00

(L to R) Natalie Stewart (Floacist) and Marsha Ambrosius(Songstress) realeased their new album, Flo'Ology, November 8, 2005.

Yesterday I went on a shopping spree, a needed stress reliever. It's an escape from reality. Some people drink or smoke crack, I shop...I love shopping--even if it results in brokeness. I'm not a full fledge adult yet, so I still have time to be irresponsible, right? O Well....
Among the things I bought was Floetry's new album, Flo'Ology. I'm glad I bought it, because again the powerhouse duo of Natalie Stewart (Floacist) and Marsha Ambrosius (Songtress) teamed up to create something beautiful. Their music ties together art forms that I love, spoken word , R&B , and a little bit of hip hop for ya. I'm really feelin this new CD, not quite as much as the first one [Floetic, 2002], but I probably just need to spend more time with it. I mean their first single features my favorite MC, Common--which guarantees that I'm gonna love it.:)
So as I'm walking from store to store in The Gallery, Philly's ghetto version of a mall, I remembered a song that I love by Floetry. I heard it on the Floacism Live DVD and apparently they perform it at every show they have, which I have yet to experience :(. The song is called "Fantasize." ( I don't want to encourage pirating--- but if you can download this song, I highly reccomend it) Marsha belts out the hooks over and over with Natalie backing her up with her bass-like flows. I mean the song is acapella, but the way they come together it sounds like there are instruments being used.
The reason this song is so special to me is because I can relate to the content. The chorus goes as follows :

I fantasize about you
Said everyday and
I want to do
Just everything, baby
Said everything--IIII (repeat)

Under the humming of the chorus, Natalie spits about the feeling of the beginnings in love or infatuation, whatever it may be. It's that time when you first meet someone that you are really feelin and for some reason you can't stop thinking about them. You care for them more and more everyday. She talks about the silly fantasies she has of running through the park holding hands as well as the real sexual fantasies. She even touches on those long phone conversations talking about "nothing in every way possible for hours and hours and hours and hours...." I know you can all relate to that one. Fantasize is really speakin to me right now. Can you guys relate? Speak to me.

My Sister's Wedding

2005-11-03T18:42:00.000-05:00

My sister just recently got married. I took photos and I thought I'd share them with the blogger world. She walked down the aisle to the song I used. It's a beautiful event with my beautiful family. I love them!

http://astro.temple.edu/~eedwards/amberswedding/amberswedding.wmv

Seducer? Me? huh?....OK, Maybe

2005-10-08T20:47:00.000-04:00

This is a quiz that determined my seducing style. I got it from someone else's blog. I've never considered myself skilled in the seducing or flirting areas. I kind of just fall into relationships and things without any forethought or premeditation. I guess I am just a natural, lol. (not really) O well, here it is though...my seducing style.

Your Seduction Style: Sweet Talker

Your seduction technique can be summed up with "charm"
You know that if you have the chance to talk to someone...
Well, you won't be talking for long! ;-)

You're great at telling potential lovers what they want to hear.
Partially, because you're a great reflective listener and good at complementing.
The other part of your formula? Focusing your conversation completely on the other person.

Your "sweet talking" ways have taken you far in romance - and in life.
You can finess your way through any difficult situation, with a smile on your face.
Speeding tickets, job interviews... bring it on! You truly live a *charmed life*

What Kind of Seducer Are You?

Packing For Life (Part II)

2005-09-21T11:54:00.000-04:00

Here's the rest of my personal narrative....

My Auntie was never one to spoil me. I was always expected to do certain things independently. At the age of nine, I was expected to do my own laundry and iron my own clothes. As a result, early on, I saw many days with wrinkled clothes and overflowing hampers,. Doing these simple things were going to “teach me independence” is what Auntie would say as I groaned about doing them. She always stressed how she hoped I would become a "strong, indepedent, black woman. At 13, I was learning to handle more responsibilities, but like every 13-year-old female I was answering the inevitable call to puberty and womanhood. Life was awkward and became ten times more awkward as a result of my situation.

So despite all of the independence I had acquired by this point, I still wanted and needed some guidance especially today. I had just made a decision that would change my life drastically. Having my Auntie there to talk to and hash out all of the anxieties and nervous feelings I was experiencing would have been nice, but unrealistic. It was as if there was an invisible line separating us. She would not speak to me and I did not know what to say to her. She would walk by me and very easily not look at me or in my direction. I knew what this meant too. I had hurt her. When you hurt Auntie, she did not want to speak with you or even be in your presence. She only spoke if it was an absolute necessity. She was distant and silent. I had been living with this for two days and it continued down to the zero hour of my departure.

As my father drove up, I was tying up loose ends. I made phone calls to my best of friends to remind them I would stay in touch. I called extended family and friends to say my goodbyes. I made my last attempts at reaching my Uncle, which deemed unsuccessful. I reluctantly wrapped my arms around our starch white, short haired Lab, Thunder, goodbye. She had been around since I was seven and I was going to miss her. She seemed unknowing and I tried to tell her that I wasn't coming back, well not soon anyway, and my throat began to well up.

By now all of my extra large black garbage bags, filled with my belongings, had surprisingly filled the trunk and back seat of my father’s white Toyota Camry. It was time for me to go. With butterflies in my stomach I headed towards the door. These were butterflies stemming from a paradox of emotions; happiness and excitement because of the opportunity to embark on a new life journey to hopefuly create a bond with my mother and extreme sadness for leaving behind the people and the life I had led up to this point. Most of all, I was hurting because I began to see the hurt that my choice had imposed upon my Auntie.

I turned to my Auntie, as my father waited outside, to say goodbye. We embraced quickly. During that embrace, she told me she loved me and I replied the same. I walked to my father’s car and exhaled deeply once I got into the car. ‘Wow, I did that without crying,’ I thought to myself.

The next few moments were surreal and seemed to happen in slow motion. My Auntie, a picture of stoicism for the past two days, had broken down. She was sobbing heavily, hanging out of the screen door, pleading and sobbing into the cold November night “Please, take care of my baby!”

For a while I was in a dream-like state. I wasn't aware of my surroundings, none of it seemed real. The lump that warns you of a cry was resting in my throat and exploded into a rush of tears when my father said in his soothing fatherly tone, “It’s ok to cry, honey.” The storm of emotions brewing inside of me must have been apparent in my facial expressions. Seeing my Auntie so hurt, hurt me. It was as if he had given me permission to feel and express the emotions I had been afraid to feel for a while. I cried as we drove down the dark roads of the Merit Parkway from the city to the countryside, not knowing what lay ahead on my new road in life.

First Comes Love, Then Comes Marriage...

2005-09-21T11:27:00.000-04:00

My sister is getting married next month. She is happy and in love, so that makes me happy --and I may be getting another neice/nephew from her sometime next year, but shhhh don't tell anyone:).

I haven't been to many weddings, but I absolutely love them. I am a pretty empathetic person. I feel for people in their pain and happiness, no matter who you are--criminal and victim alike-sounds corny, but it's true. I get very emotional (maybe even a tear or two) when watching the news or life moments on reality shows (I know, I'm a punk). So, when I see a couple that is truly in love I become extremely happy, I mean why not, love is a beautiful thing. There's not enough of it in this world anyway. When I say truly in love, I mean so much so that their love for eachother and the happiness they feel just radiates from their bodies and it makes it difficult for those who are around them not to feel that vibe. I am probably alone in saying this but, Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes had me believing in love again. Obviously I do not know these people personally, but I got this "truly in love" vibe from them when they were being over saturated in the news. I am also an avid viewer of the TLC reality shows, APerfect Proposal, A Wedding Story, and A Baby Story. These events -- i.e., proposals, weddings, and pregnancies, [if you are unfamiliar with these reality shows]-- are things that I equate with happiness in life.

My career means alot to me, but when I look ahead at what I want for myself, I see a loving marriage and children-a happy, somewhat functional, family. That means more to me than anything, mainly because I did not have what you would call a "normal" or "functional" family. It worked for us, out of necessity, but I did not have an ideal upbringing. I have almost been in denial about this because I don't want to scare away the already commitment wary dudes I meet. It even kind of scares me. I have always been the unconventialist, tomboy, liberal, semi- feminist, of my family. I am different than everyone else in many ways. That is my role--to be different. I am entering an unconvential career of photojournalism, which frightens most of my family because they think I will be broke--which is probably true, but at least I'll be happy, right? I barely dated in high school so the fam has never had a chance to torture my dates or boyfriends. I've had and still have my "situations" while in college, but have yet to bring home a strapping young gentleman to meet the family. Since these moments have never occured I am actually looking forward to the day that I can bring him home to meet my family and my dad can talk computers with him and my mom can probe into his life with her nosy questions. So it's kind of crazy to discover that I am in fact very old-fashioned and not that different at all.

Packing For Life

2005-09-09T13:37:00.000-04:00

I have to write a personal narrative for my Magazine Article writing class, so I'm posting it...comments/criticism is appreciated :) thanx folks...

Auntie ignored me for the next two days leading up to my departure.
She hasn't been handling this whole thing too well, understandably so. In my mind I was going to tell her it had nothing to do with her. That I was nervous as hell. That I really needed her guidance. But at the age of 13, I could not articulate that without those temporary speech impediments that usually occured when I was nervous or emotional.

I was moving in with my biological mother.

Two days earlier, accompanied by my Auntie Dor (considerably older cousin Dorene), and my Auntie, I visited the downtown courthouse. We were met by a few family members including Uncle, Auntie's ex-husband, who was more like a father than an uncle. My Mother and her husband were also there. The tension in the air was uncomfortable, but strangely routine at this point.

The judge wanted to speak with me alone while the adults waited outside. This caught everyone a little off guard. Our closed meeting was very short. He asked me a few questions including the decision maker, "Erin, do you want to live with your mother?" Me: "Yes." He didn't even ask me why or anything.

Two days later I wait for my Father, who also had not been a factor in my life up until this point, to drive me to my Mother's house. I must have been in denial because I still hadn't packed. My excessive stuffed animals were still resting in their comfortable positions. My bed was unmade, my room a little messy. My clothes were even still in the closet or in the dirty clothes hamper. It was a scene of confusion and unorganization. All I had packed were bookbags filled with schoolwork, yearbooks from over the years, and goodbye cards and gifts from schoolmates and best-friends. But, how do you pack your life away?

More to come....

New Hair, New Outlook

2005-08-28T05:59:00.000-04:00

Friday, August 26, at noon, I made the most drastic change in my appearance to date, only second to the removal of my braces in 9th grade. I got my my hair cut- short, very short, but so very cute. I'm lovin it. It's very Halle Berry in Boomerangish. For my entire life I have been known as Erin with the long, thick hair. It has become a trademark and even a security blanket. Now that my hair is so short, I am exposed. I mean every detail about my face, good and bad, are now visible. Due to the domination my hair had over my face, I have never really noticed what my face really looks like.

This haricut came at a good time and is somewhat symbolic. I am now a senior in college and graduating in the spring. I'm excited and nervous about the turn my life will take upon graduating. Life is getting R-E-A-L folks. This year I am more focused on what needs to be done. Some may be thinking, it's a little too late to change my protocol and/or bad habits. But if not now, when? Looking in the mirror everyday and seeing my short coif will be a friendly reminder of the changes I am making, if ever I start to slip up.

Not Knowing What You Have...

2005-08-18T05:57:00.000-04:00

Life is short. Everyone knows this, yet many of us are guilty of living it as if we have already reached that eternal life. Many people let good opportunities or people pass us by with the notion that the opportunity or that person will be there when when we're ready to get to it. We do this so often in life. Most of the time, unfortunately, recogniton of these good things comes too little too late.
I have been told so often that I am "wifey material." Guys are not ready for me until they want to "wife" someone up. Until then, I am valued but put in their mental ziplock bag for freshness while they conduct testings on what I imagine to be those who are NOT "wifey material." I am not sure if I should be enamored by this nomenclature I am given. It's nice, I guess. But come on guy, do you think I'm really gonna be here waiting for someone who's finally ready to wife me up? I need to have my fun too. I am not a yo-yo, I have motion sickness.

Just A Comment: The Great Divide...Between A Man and a Woman

2005-07-06T17:53:00.000-04:00

Why are we so different? I have asked myself this question many times and I know I will not find an answer that will satisfy me. Is it society? Is it the way we are raised and conditioned? Beside our biological make-up, men and women have these great differences that cause problems, arguments, and confusion in relationships at many different levels. Whether it be emotions, sex,commitment, love, marriage, children, and even sports, there is this great divide between men and women in the way that we respond to or deal with these issues. A divide so great that it is difficult for either gender to cross. When we do decide to enter those turbulent waters, we end up getting into arguments that go in circles. The woman can not understand why her man would do or say what he did, while the man does not understand what she is upset about or why she is making a big deal out of it. This is the general argument that encompasses where our differences lay.

Talib Kweli said it best in his song Love Language, "Women thrive on emotions men refuse to acknowledge." I can not speak for men, but as women, we tend to overthink situations and wear our heart on our sleeves in general. While it seems as if men are just the most nonchalant people on earth until one day they decide to let pent up emotions come out in one unexpected explosion. Using the logic of Kweli, men are refusing to acknowledge these emotions for so long that this unexpected explosion is actually expected. If you remain in denial of your feelings or keep them inside for so long, you are bound to explode one day. I feel as women we are conditioned to express our emotions, talk it out, cry it out, think about it, and then deal with it (eventually), while men are taught to hold it in. Here is where conflict arises. As women, initially, we are confused about this explosion, but being the emotionally in-tune people that we are, we eventually recognize the meaning and depth of the situation. But how many women want to deal with that? The man's explosion can be the flat-line of that relationship.

What can we do as men and women to narrow this divide? Our flaws are what makes us so beautifully human. As individuals in a realtionship, we can work to be more understanding of the differences beheld in the other gender. That may sound hokey, but it's worth a try, isn't it?

Sex and Love(Part II) Are We Afraid To Let Our Fairy Tale Happen?

2005-06-24T13:15:00.000-04:00

Ever since I was a child, I had this fairy tale idea of the way love was supposed to be, as most young girls do. I read often and most of the movies, even the cartoons, reinforced this idea of love coming into your life as if by some magical force. We want that prince charming that the universe made especially for us, to come into our world on his white horse. It is a great story, but can it be our reality? Is there someone out there that the universe has created especially for us? As a young adult, this idea still intrigues me. I am a big fan of movies like Sleepless in Seattle and Love Jones. Although both are just movies, they gave me a more realistic look at how love works while still having the concept of an enchanted love or fated lovers, as opposed to the Cinderellas and other fairy tale movies of my childhood. I guess you can say, I haven't lost hope in my prince charming. I realize that I am rare and that most women tend to give up on this notion.

Anita Baker is one of the best female R&B voacalists of our time. I was in an Anita Baker mood and downloaded all of her songs. The first song I downloaded, was "Fairy Tales." In this song she sings about the flawless prince charming fairy tale her mom instilled in her as a child opposed to her more flawed and bitter reality as an adult. The line, "The story ends, like stories do, reality steps into view. No longer living life like paradise, " is her realization that fairy tales do not happen in real life. Anita's problem in this song is one shared by most women, we are built up and ready for this magical fairy tale love to happen to us, and we get let down because life isn't quite like a fairy tale. As a result of being let down, we also start to lose hope in any type of love at all. Don't give up ladies! Don't lose faith in love. Love is a beautiful thing created by God, for us to partake in. Be open to it and the author of your own fairy tale.~

Sex and Love(Part I) The Quest for Satisfaction

2005-06-22T13:04:00.000-04:00

At the age of 21 in 2005, what does sex and love mean to my peers and myself? Is it the free love of the sixties and seventies? Although most wouldn't mind that, it is near impossible with the slew of STDs that exist today and the prime fear of all, HIV/AIDS. So, are these two entities, sex and love, independent of each other or do they flow together like a strand of DNA? The majority of us are trying to get instant or momentary gratification and usually don't require love or like as a standard of the sexual partner we choose. This can be a problem, but who am I to judge? I think as young people and many young people before us, we are losing ourselves in this search for satisfaction. WE go on this quest for many things, and get confused by sex. We are all searching for Love, Companionship, Friendship, and Loyalty. In the end we may only get a few minutes of good sex, if that.