Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Oh where, oh where has my little blog gone?

...Oh where oh where can she be? Apologies for the lack of posts, seems my blog inspiration decided to go into hibernation along with my running shoes for the winter... Never fear, they are both back and ready for running and writing (and boy the skinny girl inside me is just as happy as you are about the resurgence). So here we are, a few days before one of the most optimistic days of the year; where everyone vows to be a better self, be organized and create goals - GO YOU! I'm sorry to say you guys are late to this party. Part of my sabbatical was due to my quarter life crisis that decided to remind me in nearly two weeks I will be a quarter of a century so there has been a lot of "goal processing"...Two weeks away from that long list of things I wanted to do before 25 like climb Everest goes into the fail pile and onto the bucket list...Two years away from a drastic metabolism yield...One year away from my dream age -- 26. You know, when you were younger (and with apparently no concept of time) this is the magical age you thought you'd be married, in a glamorous apartment somewhere and VP of something...Although all of these dreams were pretty much crushed in the last two years or so by a little thing called Realism and his sister Practicality, it's hard to come to terms with the idea that your magical age is disappearing into the same purgatory as fairy tales princesses and Santa.
Anyway the list goes on, I had to get a new license, I will move into the 25-30 box column on surveys, and my decision making skills need to be sharper than ever. So I'm nervous. I don't think per say anything that day will happen, but it does lessen my chance that I will be on the Inc 30 under 30 list.
Is this an appropriate age to freak out? Can you imagine what I'll be like at my midlife crisis? Hopefully, you'll be reading my amazing book by then and you can read all about it vicariously through one of my fictional characters.

Triskaidekaphobia, fear of the number 13, Mr. Webster should've thought of one for the number 25.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Fine Print

I normally stay away from food/restaurant/dining reviews primarily because I'm not a certified food/restaurant/dining critic, and sometimes you might just have to chalk up a bad experience to the restaurant having a bad day. However, this I needed to write about because I think it's a customer experience that people should be cautioned of.
This weekend I decided to try my first Groupon and go to a wine tasting with the bf. The wine was delicious and I even learned a few things that will make me pause before ordering my staple Pinot. We arrive to Giorgio's in good fashion (not my typical 15 minutes late) and the honeys and I sat down for what he likes to call "one of my adventures." To our right was a nice couple from Edison, NJ (who apparently had reservations for dinner at Top of the Rock following the tasting). To our left were a brother/sister looking pair, the brother (we'll call him) obnoxiously called out random facts about his personal wine journey and how he loves reds. Needless to say, he continuously got the side eye all night from most of the participants in the class.
10 wines, two types of cheese, salami, mini pizzas (called artisan - but resembled a cracker with red sauce) - the night was going well. Even our instructor,  a Bulgarian woman named, Maggie could be named mildly entertaining and outright funny 10 wines deep. Then we started to pack up to leave.
So here is where I need to derail slightly so that you have the full picture: Groupon offers an ironically named and yet informative section on each deal called "the fine print", in which they intend to claim all terms and conditions that could be defined as "the catch". Nothing in this fine print section mentioned "you might get bamboozled at this deal site...."
Back to the story - the honeys and I were leaving and Maggie approaches us with the bottle of wine promised in the deal in addition to a $9.00 tax and whatever gratuity we would like to add. Now, all this is understandable as Groupon specifies "tax not included" however, I have two points, 1. someone could have mentioned/reminded us of this before/during/after we sat down for the class and 2. four people left while we scrambled through our bags. When we reveal a $20.00 bill and ask for the change she becomes very insistent that gratuity isn't included and that she only has $10 bills, mind you, on a Saturday night. Now, since I've worked in a restaurant before I cannot explain to you the rarity that early on a Saturday night you run out of change for twenties. Not only does it risk the chance that people just won't tip you - it's just not very smart business. So while we're debating on the reality that she really didn't have change for the $10 she handed over, two more patrons that did the wine class walk out. Here's my gripe: in the 4 minutes that you bamboozled us $20.00, six people walked out without paying the tax OR gratuity and with a free-ninety-nine bottle of wine.
I'm not cheap, but I'm wondering - was that legit? Or were we just the lucky couple selected for the price increase?
And Dear Groupon, is this something you support... the duping of customers?

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Dear Ol' UVA...

I needed some time to compile my thoughts and comments from my recent Homecoming visit to UVa - so for those of you who were looking for it. Here it is.
Homecoming weekend at Uva... Driving down I-95 onto Alderman, guided by the giant V and two sabers inked into the road we entered a place we called home for four years. It felt as though we entered a bubble. It was a cultural capsule where it seemed nothing had changed and yet coming from out of town, there was a solemn cloud that followed us, a gentle reminder that this wasn't the real world. It's clear after being in the workplace for two years, UVa was a utopia. You don't really have to deal with adult issues, all of the rent/utilities/billing were spoon fed to you, none of your interactions were multi-level (i.e. work relationships), people can wear cowboy boots and dresses and it's more of a dress code than a fashion faux-pas; oh and singing the Good Ol' Song made everyone feel like one happy community. No wonder we feel duped...I'm not the only person that looked blankly at a fax machine or another esoteric office tool and thought: why didn't I take a class for this? That's what we need a "Real Life 101" that teaches you how to: deal with taxes, office politics, weird roommates, missing landlords, rental agreements, real crime that can't be solved with the honor code... and the list goes on.
I can't decide if the shielding of the real world from the current Wahoos is just an extension of their childhood or the set up for the first of many rude awakenings they will experience in adulthood. For example: at UVa you can feasibly, work, party, study, eat healthy, stay fit, and get enough sleep to do it all again the next day. Guess what? In the real world the routine is sacrificed for things that are considered survival tactics - eating whatever you can find, sleeping when you can, and working for food and shelter. When we were on the Range before the football game, you could still see the flicker of innocence in the eyes of the undergrads, an age of believing and where ignorance is bliss.
It was a great weekend, but returning to grounds and looking at versions of myself pre-real world, was bittersweet. On one hand UVa is now a place we can never go back to without bringing in bias, on the other hand it was a nice reset button to know that in a world that is constantly changing there are some consistencies.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Return On Investments, relationship style

In business the ever-popular term Return On Investment (ROI) is almost always used in a question: What is my ROI with XYZ...?
When I hear this commonly over-used work abbreviation it makes me wonder, why shouldn't we evaluate our relationships on the same scale?
We all know you have to "put in work" when starting a relationship, but what if you put in too much and the relationship fails? Or what if you don't put in enough and your growth is minimized? OK, maybe I have work on the brain, but let me put this in context - AKA a story!

I have a friend; she's smart, successfully, cute, kind, and a little quiet. She carried on a relationship with a seemingly interesting male for several months. Time investment. She compromised her better judgment by engaging in late night meet ups. Investing in opportunities. She spent time ruminating and contemplating over each mixed signal, always hoping and considering the best-case scenario and ignoring the red flags. Bad investment... So when this not so awesome male figure ended up admitting to still being involved in a serious relationship with an old girlfriend and deemed himself emotionally unavailable, but anxious to keep her on his team, the relationship bank officially ruled: no growth or opportunity in this relationship, negative return on investment.
So what happens when you put in all this work and no benefits come of it? Is it no wonder relationships have transformed from courting to dating to sexting? Know what you're in for is today's mentality and it's all for the sake of saving your investment and energy for one person who really deserves it.  And no, this isn't something my friend expressed, these are situations that happen to everyone and unfortunately (or fortunately) the longer you are with someone leads you to a similar logical question of value or ROI: "is s/he worth it?". From a relationship perspective, begs a deeper answer from the heart and mind coming together to form a conscious decision. Often, the positive or negative answer to: if I give my all-will you be the one I love?
Similar to what I advised my friend, anyone who you feel is taking more than they can give is on the bottom part of the worth scale. Anyone that can try and make you feel less than YOU are worth doesn't deserve any investment, time- opportunity or quality. However, I do believe, there is a tendency to test to true value of a relationship. And there, comes a point in any relationships when we have to stop testing the worth and appreciate the value-otherwise you spend all your time analyzing the investment and never enjoying the benefits.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Dare You to Tell the Truth

Friday, I spent a night with the ladies. An uninterrupted night (well besides the usual Harlem soundtrack) with wine, catch up seshs and trading of advice/stories.
Without going into detail, there were two ladies in somewhat transitional points in relationships: meaning it was starting to go down that "not working" path. My personal philosophy is that when you can start to identify those points that are borderline breakup material, you should probably end it before you become even more disappointed. So as I was top lining these convos of the night for the seemingly uninterested bf, he exclaims: "don't you know you aren't suppose to give your friends real advice? Just let them do as they want and agree to whatever it is."
Another odd, surprisingly might be true exclamation from the honeys. So does that mean, no matter how much my girlfriend wants my opinion she really just wants me to tell her "go ahead girl, stay with him?" At what point do we become intrusive as a third party and disable that sounding board effect you have as a friend?
We all know girl code exists, but I don't remember reading a vow of silence being ingrained in the commandments. We're also getting to a point where we have or had substantial relationship learnings that are crucial to pass along - and that leads to the sometimes uninvited comments. I admit I have been on the other end of the receiving unprovoked comments and I didn't want to hear that mess. So I know I'm not the only one that does it, what do we do it? I've decided there are two things that create this convoluted situation of what can be called Girlfriend Feedback.
1. Women, as most of us know, are infamous for ruminating. A natural, innate process that allows us to analyze, critique and belabor incidences, ever after. Girl talk is the pinnacle of the information dump that's going through your head all those days in advance of girl night. So when you are there telling your girlfriends your heart and soul, you don't really want to develop a solution or, as we say in PR, decide on next steps.
The second point is, it's hard to do when you care about your friends and you don't want them to fall into your old footsteps - you talk until you're sure you've convinced them. However, in the end it's her life and her decision. Something that works for you might not work for her: ergo stay out of it and let her make her own choices.
So girl night part two will include less commentary and more listening - guess that's why you have two ears and only one mouth right? Stick to those proportions.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Au naturelle

I've found myself contemplating, planning, making lists and trying to decide on what I should do with my hair, is going natural the answer? Let me pause for a definition: going natural means to stop processing my hair with a relaxer treatment. The relaxer straightens my hair, by breaking down the proteins that give my hair its makeup, but it also strips the hair of priceless protein oils for growth. Ergo, hair is a mess.
I've found myself obsessively thinking about how to go forward with my hair because if you don't know: maintain black hair is a long and arduous process. Why? I don't know, but let me demystify a few common misconceptions or things you just don't know when it comes to black hair.  My hair wet doesn't look the same once it's dried (unless you want to wait 2.5 hours). Washing my hair is an ordeal, it takes time - wash, deep condition, blow dry and flat iron. I'm tending to my hair so much on Sundays, I feel like I have to break have dinner for energy and go back to taming. My hair is thick - it's healthy for the most part (knock on wood), but it's thick. It's hard to maintain with my workout plan - ever notice in the gym, women either have "gone natural" (afros, twists, dreds) some other form of natural styling, but very few are relaxed and breaking a sweat. It's pretty much impossible and becomes an ultimatum it's either nice hair or a fit bod.

To me it's six in one hand half a dozen in another - relaxing your hair, hoping for little to no breakage OR going natural? I'm sorry, but I don't think I can deal with the TWA (Teeny Weeny Afro). Definition: TWA is the beginning of the natural process, when the person going natural makes the big chop, cuts all her hair down to get rid of the relaxed hair, what's left is a teeny weeny afro.

On the other hand I've seen evidence of perpetually relaxing and hair loss that can come of that. Plenty have seen the movie "Good Hair", but you probably only know a small dose of the reality that the documentary reveals. While Chris Rock so eloquently tried to explained to the nation the history and conundrum of black hair, it's not as easy as you think to go through and get rid of your process treatment. When you think about the time invested over years and years to see it do nothing, but make things worse? Makes you wish there was a warning label with the long term effects. Then again, it probably wasn't your decision - I can just see my Dad now, struggling with this massive ball of hair wondering "what can I do to my baby's hair?" and a Just For Me commercial comes on like an answer to his prayers.
Going natural won't save me any time - in fact I'll probably go back to where this journey all started and wonder - what am I going to do with this hair. 

So now that I've talked myself in circles, getting no closer to a decision, and making a confusing situation even nappier, here's my true question what is really going to work? Or maybe another peel off the old onion of life, is letting me know I'm going to need to accept what I have and make it work?
Either way, it's Sunday - so I have some hair maintenance to attend to. Until next time my dear readers!

Monday, September 12, 2011

I live in the robbin' hood.

They say majority of crimes happen by those who know you - so when my apartment was robbed, it shouldn't come as a shock that we knew who stole more than cookies from the cookie jar.
Life will go on right? Good thing we don't believe in cutting off someone's hand anymore when they steal...

So, last year I was writing to you about an ex-roommate stealing my razor blades - and this year the theft in my apartment has escalated to a misdemeanor. It's crazy, when I was younger the biggest crime I witnessed was someone eating grapes in the super market. Now, there are literally people I know (**cough cough ex roommate who stole my razor blade cough**) who married someone to get their visa - can we say ILLEGAL?
So the moral of this story is:
  1. Lock your doors
  2. Trust them as far as you can throw them
  3. Don't do anything illegal, it will come full circle

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Baking Fail.

So I know everyone is up to date with Hurricane Irene so I won't bore you... to sum it up:

Dear Irene,
Thanks for crashing parties, selling out non-perishable items in C town/Gristedes/Fairway, flooding homes, breaking down trees, cutting power, contaminating water and shutting down mass transit in New York. 
No wonder in your wake people were partying like it's 1999. No thanks for stopping by...
You get no love, Dani

So, due to the fact I was in NJ this weekend teaching my boyfriend to play charades because there was no power, I have little to report. I do, however, have a few words on the art of baking. Now, I signed up for the dip contest (bring in a favorite dip) and I spent the whole day looking up recipes, getting psyched up - when I realized, I have NEVER made a dip. So the contest is tomorrow and I just finished my dip and it looks like this:

For dramatic effect, I've decided to use my crap camera on my bberry - because it won't matter anyway, it looks like this in real life. I'm pretty sure the idea is genius and if you were blind folded this might be a treat but a big part of dessert is presentation and I can take the criticism: this doesn't look good. So here is the recipe I'm hoping one of my baking followers can send in something better so I can brush up on my skills.

Bottomless Apple Dip:
Concept - apple pie filling, you dip with graham crackers!
Serve warm.

I think this recipe should be personalized with however you best create apple pie filling (not getting my semi-homemade secret!), bake it, then choose a topping to your discretion like whipped cream and dip away. I can't give away any secret ingredients to this dip, but for this recipe as you can see I've added burnt apple slices to the top.
Moral of this story - I can't bake or create dips. Luckily, someone told me today FAIL is really just an uplifting acronym for: First Attempt In Learning...

Recipes welcome!

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Rom-Coms and Puppies!

I haven't done a book review in AGES, but I have finished reading several books that can be classified in the lipstick genre - you know, rom-coms in print? The genre that classifies books in the women can never leave home without: lipstick, cell phone, rose colored glasses and a rom-com.
So, while I'm sure my fav authors like Giffin, Davis and Weisberger are coming up with the next best seller in this category I decided to branch out and read a pet-centric, rom-com. Allie Larkin's novel called Stay was the story about a women who drunkenly purchases a Slovakian bred- six month old German Shepard. The novel ebb and flows through the heroine's processing of her late mother's passing, getting over her long time love who recently married her best friend, and maintaining a relationship with her new dog's veterinarian. At first the tangle of relationships seemed daunting and I feared that one relationship would become overshadowed in the book versus another, I was pleasantly surprised when I felt equally enamored in all.
Now, there was one piece of this novel that was slightly unfortunate: the heroine. I learned by a helpful tweet from Ms. Terry McMillan that heroines are suppose to be completely lovable and flawed, yet that flaw must be redeemable. It's kind of like the whole idea of falling in love, you love someone for everything about them - including their flaws. However, I couldn't get over that the author painted this picture of a really unfortunate looking woman, yet everyone was falling head over heels for her - even her vet, who I pictured looking like Ryan Gosling. I don't think her flaw should be her looks, that's just vain - her alcoholism could be one, but I think that trophy goes to Chelsea Handler.
However, the test of a good romantic comedy book for me is when your love for the book turns to sadness and you hate that the book ended and you want to hear about the relationship for 100 more pages; read about their first fight and see what their first child will look like! With that said,  I was sad when this book ended I was even hoping that the dog would meet another dog and have puppies, but that's my romantic side - always looking for the happy ending. Oh and this book made me want to have a pet - or at least babysit my friend's dog.
Until next time my dear readers - hope you pick up this one!


Tuesday, August 16, 2011

One is silver and the other gold?

Does anyone else remember that girl scout song:
Make new friends, but keep the old,
One is silver and the other's gold,
A circle's round and has no end that's how long I want to be your friend.
Anyone? Well, when I was in Troop 1046 with my Dad as the troop leader, we sang this song over and over. With a simple solution for friendship, what happened to this mantra?
Fast forward from elementary school to high school, when every third person made fun of me for one reason or another and there's my Dad telling me "Dani, you'll only really have two good friends, everyone else can fall by the wayside" (My Dad's two friends are: Dr. Lee, my dentist and hmmm not sure I ever knew the second one). With a segmented high school with the popular and the cool groups, thinking you'll live your life with only two friends and not 10 was devastating.
Circa 2011 and almost two decades after learning this sing-song and the true two rule, friendship is replaced with networking and filtering your true thoughts for the sake of professionalism. I mean really, for same sex relationships what do you say: "ok nice meeting you, are you my friend now?" Don't even think about boy/girl friendships, one of you probably has different intentions and if you don't then someone will probably foster them. 
It's like learning to make friends all over again, this time without the luxury of competitive cookie selling.
Throw back - Senior Year Cedar Point
Don't get me wrong some things Stay True, I still have my two, and they are still gold.

Monday, August 1, 2011

Abajo? Or Going Up?

I live in Washington Heights, which means I daily regret learning French throughout my academic years. I have a good friend that consistently translates for me; reading signs posted in my building, helping me tell my hairdresser to hurry because I have another appointment -- the usual interactions. Although he never forgets to mention that I need to learn Spanish and that I can't keep just nodding in agreement when people speak to me that I might unknowingly sign myself up for modern-day slavery. And then I rationalize - I imagine it's like a foreigner getting dropped off in the middle of Harlem and trying to understand what people are saying: "Yo, 'ey cuz.. whatido" or "wheredeydodat at"... they don't really need to know what they are saying to move along in their plans - and they don't think twice about it. Why should I?

But this is the Heights, there's so much going on around you, you WANT to know what's going on. Ironically, I've never seen the musical "The Heights", but I recently attended an event for the New York Beacon (a Harlem paper I occasionally freelance for) and they were honoring a Dance Company, where the performance featured the 2008 Broadway cast from The Heights. They performed: $96,000, which to anyone that has not see the play, this is a story of what each of the residents from the Heights would do if they won $96,000 from the lottery. It was a great number and it accurately described the neighborhood I live in, believing $96,000 could get them into a higher echelon, some place they only imagine on TV or in the movies but definitely outside of the hood -- no spoiler alert here, go see the play and then take a trip to Washington Heights and report back. You'll see.

 While, I've adapted survival techniques for living in my Dominican saturated neighborhood and learning that some of the events that happen are typical and some just hood-rich, I just watch and listen, or politely answer caliente to just about any question I'm asked in passing (my best guess is they are talking about the summer heat wave).

I've learned this neighborhood is an acquired taste -- you go to sleep to merengue music (or are woken up by it) and walk outside to short Dominican women selling mangoes in plastic bags, it has personality and the rent is cheap - so I'll stay, save up and I'll learn a few more words in Spanish - tal vez...

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Fairytales for all!

In a perfect girl world, the most magical, romantical fairytale includes: a boy, an unrecognized love that grows over the course of 2 hours (movie time, 6 months real time), the epic fail of that love and then a male realization that he's almost lost the best thing he ever had. For years, no wait decades - this fairytale has manifested itself into the "happily ever after" syndrome that women dream of. We also tend to evaluate the success or failure of each relationship based on where the relationship falls in this ebb and flow.
But then, imagine this fairytale, with Justin Timberlake... cinema gold.

OK OK, this is not only because I'm an obvious NSYNC fanatic (closeted owner of the Justin Timberlake No Strings Attached marionette doll); the new movie "Friends with Benefits" was absolutely charming. A unisex romantic comedy, even the males in the audience (bf included) didn't feel like poking their eyes out throughout the movie. The perfect "one-size fits all" romantic-comedy naturally plays into the ebb and flow of the fairytale, but it also becomes a punctured story with jokes, witty comebacks and a peek into the real life of relationships. To every hyperbole it starts off with some truth and this movie is no exception.
The most obvious reveal is the boy/girl relationship and expectations, for example:

Partial Truth reveal no. 1: In the movie, Justin is closed off - not shocking if you date anyone in the 21st century. The reveal is as a girlfriend no matter how close she thinks she is to her boyfriend she always thinks and feels like he should tell her more. While he might consider family tragedy to be none of her business, she's always hurt when she didn't know.
Partial Truth reveal no. 2: Boys will hook up with the crazies no matter what density of attractiveness. Girls, will always upgrade (unless she's a bottom feeder). MK - chose a doctor, JT - chose a random from the bar.
Partial Truth reveal no. 3: Girls do not share. The inevitable moment when the girl becomes jealous and the boy becomes surprised and drops the whole "oh we aren't dating" line. 

There were plenty, but this blog will not submit to spoilers.

Justin has an air about him that seduces women and makes men want to be him. So in essence, a male digestible fairytale includes some truths as a nod to the brotherhood and still follow this trajectory onto happily ever after; where they find the person just past the end of their nose, and end on Day 1. You can't really see where things are a year later, which explains why there are never sequels to romantic comedies. I guess the morale of this tale is it's all about the moment, the submission to happily ever after, the love, and the fruition of a fairytale (and now I will put away my: I believe in LOVE button).

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Weight A Minute

Every girl has their fitness or weight issue. Mine? Happens in cycles, I'm a runner so naturally if I'm signed up for a race my endorphins are flowing I'm working out regularly, eating right and feeling nonchalant about grabbing extra toppings at 16 handles. What happens on the down turn? My poor boyfriend gets his dose of crazy. So on this occasion of a downturn my roommate unbeknown to me broke the weight in the scale automatically adding a full five lbs to your true weight. So, there I am a week before I'm suppose to be in a bikini, just finished a hefty cup from 16 handles and I weighed myself. In typical fashion I waited before my shower (can't have clothes weighing me down) and there it was... a number I've never seen before. I walked into the room face covered from a combination of tears and shower mist and I wallowed to my boyfriend about canceling the trip - an expensive non-refundable trip, clearly I wasn't thinking rationally. Luckily my honey let me rant rave and then explained to me the scale was broken, he had tried it earlier...

I'm not the only one with extreme measures. I had a friend who pledged to go on a survivor diet - she picked the hottest week in the summer where she did nothing but drink warm tap water for that week and sit in the hot sun. I guess re-enacting being on a desert island makes sense if you have convinced yourself your naturally small frame is morbidly obese.

That's the other thing, my friends have a tendency to exaggerate their features. Bloated stomach becomes a prognosis for lap-band or trying on pants after they come out the dryer equals neurotic stints at the gym on the elliptical. See ladies, pretty illogical when you read it in print.
So how can we change? What can I say to convince an entire sex that creating routines around dieting and what not to eat plans only makes for an interesting brag session with the girlfriends and that being skinny is only relative to who you are standing next to. Probably nothing, but let's face it the only person who really cares about how well you fit in a size 2 is your friend in a size 0 and she probably hopes they are a little too tight, but I digress...
I decided to impart this knowledge on health, beauty and dieting to my dear readers that I discovered while figuring out my own lunacies: scales can be broken, jeans can shrink in the wash, but you'll never look your best thinking you are already at your worst. Hopefully, this should get someone through their next stint, don't be so hard on yourself, objects appear larger in mirrors anyway :)

Sunday, June 26, 2011

She is my friend!

I had a very interesting conversation with the bf this week. I've had more than one of my lady-friends claim they are down in the dumps because they are sans boyfriend and living in the city. Take note, Sex and the City might look fun and exciting, but when you are living one bad date after another - it takes its toll. You begin to question whether you are the Carrie of your friends ... or the Miranda.
But never fear - Miranda gets married (and then her husband cheats on her, but that's WAY later). Anyway this conversation with my honeys of what to do about my friends feeling a little less than depressed came to a shocking question.

When it comes to friendships, do boys care more about their friends than girls do?
We landed here because when it comes to happiness it wasn't the amount of friends or social life that was evaluated it was all about the relationship status. My bf pointed out that it doesn't matter to a boy so much that it effects how you feel about a whole city and its experience. At the end of the day, it truly is bros over ... well you know.
For girls, it seems no matter how many friends we have or how many pictures we take having a blast, if there is no man in the picture (literally and figuratively) then the memory of the good time becomes lost. Even those in less than desirable situations, like a boyfriend overseas or cross-country, any relationship is better than none... right?
On the other hand, boys look for situations to celebrate without their girlfriends. Trips to Vegas, "boys night out", you get it.  Let's face it when was the last time a male created his milestones around a woman/marriage...

This idea of friendship and the ever celebrated "sisterhood" that is suppose to be one of the strongest bonds in nature could quite possibly be contingent on a male relationship. Not to bring up fiction or movies, but even in these depictions, female relationships are stronger when a male partner is found or established. Then the sisterhood bond is complete - and although fiction, these are the standards and social norms that we've adopted.

What's even more interesting is the aftermath of a breakup. Women - look to their friends for support and continual male bashing of the former relationship. However, the girl's friends can't help but point out that her relationship was unhealthy due to the lack of attention she gave them in the duration and that she was totally consumed in their relationship (can we say jealous). Unless, the relationship was really unhealthy I haven't heard of guy friends complaining of this "lack of attention" to the brotherhood!

So at the end of the day, the sisterhood is really a question of friend or foe and coincidental timing on a girl's relationship status. No wonder there is no status update for friendships or connections of Facebook, because I imagine a lot of women would have an "it's complicated" status.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

People You Meet in a Starbucks...

In Ohio! I ventured home last week for my brother's graduation. My sister had class so she dropped me off in Starbucks to "hang out" so that means I got a chance to catch up on my writing and put this together for you, my dear readers :)
Now, I arrived at Starbucks at about 8am on a Thursday, which in NYC means the grumpy caffeine addicted work crowd- in Shaker it means time for the coffee house groups to meet.
Sitting near the only outlet in the place, a 60 year old man named Alex sits down next to me and asked me what I was writing. I told him I'm catching up on my blog. He says, "well join our coffeehouse group today - you'll for sure find a story"; and oh boy did I. Meet the characters:
Alex a married 60 year old from the west side of Cleveland
Franny the former judge added in an opinion on just about everything
Neal the son of one of Jimmy Hoffa's lawyers told us a story about his car getting blown up in his garage
Al the oldest of the group (with a very nice rose garden apparently)
And then there was Sharon...
Now, Sharon was interesting she looked me up and down several times and then began her line of questioning.
S: "Do you have a boyfriend?"
Me: "Yes"
S: "Does he tell you, you're pretty?"
Me: "Yes"
S: "Every day?"
Me: "uh...."
S: "He should tell you because trust me you can't be with an @$$*** for years and have children with him"
Me: "....Oh. Noted?"
What does one say to that?
Anyway, this caffeinated gossip group meets every morning before they venture off into their separate retired lives. Alex, the most loquacious, said he started the group just by sitting in Starbucks and asking different people what they were going to do that day. One by one, they each stayed to meet the others in the group and came back the next day for the "coffee talk". The day I listened in they paid their condolences to my generations (in terms of job opportunities), but noted that we still don't have it THAT bad, yet. Alex recalled a time in 1981-1983 when it was common to lose your job at least once during these years due to layoffs. He had to pay his girlfriend's rent for a while and he wasn't the only one in this situation. They laughed about columnist a little older than me comparing our hard times to theirs - they proclaimed,  "how could he possibly really know what it was like?" It's interesting to hear social commentary about a time when you weren't even a twinkle in your parent's eyes. Oh and of course I brought up Golden Girls and discovered my kindred spirits with the man named Al, who watches every night too (he confessed to me he thinks Betty White is hott).

So maybe it wasn't partying or celebrity-siting in New York, but I did get a little perk in my day! A Daily grind, where sipping is allowed, getting your drink extra hot and bringing the latest gossip is a requirement.

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Generation Y are we waiting?

I've noticed a trend in my friends and fellow peers - we're all just waiting. We're holding on to the carpe diem attitude - but it's for tomorrow. We are the most structured and imaginative generation to date. In terms of structure, we're reared to follow a path - school, college, job experience, money, balanced life, family. If someone veers off course they risk extreme disappointment or threat of missing one of these society-created grandiose milestones. And for women we worry about the timer we've self-imposed at each of the stations of life as if you stay too long you risk missing the next. Example: If a woman works hard,  she might make it to the "money" stage, but stay there basking in her dollars and career choices she forgoes a balanced life and family. May not be right - but it's what my ladies think.
For the imaginative - it's an effect of the MLK dream speech - we have a dream that one day BLANK... and you believe you can make it happen, but the drive and motivation to make it happen lacks in structure.
So you have a system of beliefs and beliefs without a system - and that's my generation.
This has resulted in a bunch of stressed and anxious individuals, a slump in cultural movement, we've been coined as the least active generation - generation y bother.
It's also created an ambitious group that has been told all their lives they can do and be whatever they want. Naturally, this creates a monster. We have lots of people thinking they are experts with two years experience and an untamed confidence that crashes when burned. Frankly, the only thing we are experts in is understand what we can be, but what does that do for everyone else who is living in the present? We're worried we won't make the right decision or we easily give in when different lines in the sand are drawn - but that's us and we'll run world some day soon, just not today but count on tomorrow.

Monday, May 23, 2011

A Girl Weekend

A girl moment - defined as being the point in time when a girl (or woman) digest information in a way that sometimes leads to an impractical line of reasoning.

So, you can imagine the amount of girl moments and unlicensed psychotherapy that endured over my mini girls get away to Connecticut. First there was a comparison of boys - who's the best, who sucks right now and who needs to get the boot (yes, honeys you were in the running for the best). Then there were the wine confessions. Basically we participated in all the things you imagine girls do when they get together minus braiding hair (we left that one alone).  It was all very interesting each of us in our own stages of budding relationships.

For me, my girl moment was when I definitively began to see what an adult relationship looks, acts, and feels like. When you go on a girl's weekend there is no need to call someone every five minutes or worry what the other person is doing that very moment. I remember in high school I dated someone and you would think we were literally connected at the hip. You know how  journalist fuse first names together to demonstrate the intertwining lives of the celebrities, like Brangelina...? We'll let's just say my first, middle and last name changed because I couldn't move without this person knowing exactly which direction I was going. Don't get me wrong we loved it, relished in it - but anyone who's had more than one relationship, knows your first relationship is your most intense and potentially the most unhealthy. You could find both of us relinquishing fun times in hopes of preserving a few more months, that's when we started to feel like we were wasting time.

An adult relationship seems different, a little more grown up. You're secure with your relationship enough to not feel guilty for having fun without them. I'm not saying my relationship is super mature and we are 100% there, but I don't feel like my time is being monopolized or wasted. I cherish our time together without thinking of moments as a memories, but as a parts of the continuum.

So there you have it, my girlz weekend shone some light on my boy situation.

But isn't that what girl weekends are for? Finding at least 3 other people in the world who read, analyze, dissect and reconsider things exactly the way you do?

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Those Three little words.

"Oh, I'm sorry" - I probably say this more from bumping into someone than admitting I'm wrong about something. Sometimes I think these words might be harder to say than I love you or I forgive you.

So, the big question - in a relationship, who should apologize first? The boy. Obvis.
It's been my experience that when a man is in love his ego becomes half the size of his heart, which means he puts his lady in front and will apologize first. However, there are times when these boys attempt to assert their executive decision card and turn the tables - making their lady forget who was wrong and grovel to get back in good graces. Here's a prime example:

Once in a while I venture to NJ with my bf - he picks me up at the train. On the weekends the trains leave on the :11 minute of the hour and arrive into NJ on the :51 minute of every hour. Now, this particular weekend my phone was dead, but I've been making this trip for about 3 years, so I'm thinking - he'll be there no later than :55...wrong. I had to find a pay phone - yes circa 1980 - and try to touch less than five percent of the receiver to call, risking contracting ebola... fifty cents and ten minutes later, no answer, still waiting.
I'm mad. When he finally comes, I greet him with: "tardy for the party much?" And he becomes all Silent Stanley on me with an attitude, counter arguing that I should have a charged phone...  a random petty argument ensues, next thing I know someone is saying I'm sorry...

Luckily, these cards get thrown about as often as ladies shed those crocodile tears. Most boys, whether they want to admit it or not, abide by this common laws of dating:
Boys apologize to keep the peace and girls try not to look through their phones.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Duh.

Guess what, if you train for a marathon - chances are it will go well. Adding another addition to the letters to my younger self :

Dear Younger Self,
Running 26.2 miles is no joke. It's not something you can half @$$ do and it's certainly not something to just run on hope - you need a solid base, hard work and mileage.

Last year my marathon was terrible. Take a look at Long Time No Blog for a snap shot. I won't even tell you my time, but the little truck was on my heels. For anyone who doesn't know each marathon has a time limit - it's typically 6.5 hours, or you must complete the half in 3 hours or something to that extent. Otherwise a huge truck comes nipping at your heels picking up cones threatening to swoop you up and rob you of that finishing medal. Last year I almost fell victim. This year I trained. I bugged my co-workers, complained of sleeplessness - got a personal best and I'm excited to do it again! Ok, it wasn't all candy canes and Christmas - there was a point after the 13.1 miles where I rejoiced - WOOO HALF WAY DONE .... oh wait, I have 13 more miles to run. Two more plus hours. The miles between 13 and 19 are the hardest, coincidentally there were no bands, or cheer squads to be found. I had to rely on my counting, random observation and thoughts, good thing for my imagination.

Short post, but to the point. No worries, more stories to come this week for my dear readers.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

How do you like your coffee?

I haven't done a relationship post in a while - so it was fate when I was pulled into a heated argument with my roommates (and one of their boyfriends) - tada! A post is born.
The question of the day: Do Black men step up to the plate when it comes to marriage? Or have Black women taken their role as Mighty Woman too seriously and their melanin counterparts are adding milk and sugar to their coffee?

Before jumping in, let me set the stage and give you a synopsis of the characters:
Roommate Number 1: She's loud. Her argument style is to keep repeating what she wants to say at increasing decibels until someone's ear drums burst OR someone throws up the white flag.
Roommate Number 2: Was the one with her boyfriend present, so she was a little quiet until he said something that could be indicative of their relationship.
The Male: #losing

The women argued that the men in this situation can't accept the responsibilities of marriage. Our male perspective told us that it was Black women like roommate number 1 that makes Black men shy away from marriage - implying her attitude was the main reason Black women don't make it to the marriage material folder (rude *insert eye roll). Both roommates seemed to be concerned that once the financial security comes and marriage is feasible - they add milk to their coffee and no longer like their coffee black and strong.

When I was asked for my two cents my answer was this: Most men black or white need to feel financially complete before they can commit to something like marriage. For example, if financial security is not in the horizon, chances are you're not getting a ring any time soon. In terms of the Black man changing their flavor and taste, I do think Black women need to expand their palette and consider a cafe au lait - if the coffee is weak.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Are these the days of our lives?

As most of you know, I'm an avid reality tv show watcher (I'm hoping they find a support group for people like me) - luckily I'm over the housewives and onto the Kardashians. Well, after this week's premiere of the Khloe and Lamar show, I might be looking for a new reality show family to watch. I was very disappointed! Typecasting Lamar and his father as the typical Black father/son relationship - coming out the wood works for money, tickets and fame. Then Khloe seems totally surprised by it like, "I can't believe his family would do this" (insert blank stare). I think we're watching the ethnic 2011 version of Newlyweds.

I'm getting a little tired of reality tv, it's the same stories, same stereotypes being scripted (yes scripted) and brought to life. Can't we go back to the ridiculous story plots soap operas were bringing to life? Nope. Those are being canceled, one after another... One life to live, All My Children -- what's next Days of our Lives? I can't bear the thought of Stefano disappearing forever! 

I guess as long as Hallmark and WEtv still re-run Golden Girls, that's where you'll find me every night at 11:00 PM. Yes, the AARP version of Sex and the City.

Sophia: Why do blessings wear
disguises? If I were a blessing, I'd run around naked.

Classic.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Shades of Gray

My typical morning starts with a hot shower, making coffee and running to the train. I love my train ride because I tune out, get thirty more minutes to wake up and listen to some of my embarrassing playlists like: NSYNC 4EVER, which is basically my rendition of Justin Timberlake's greatest hits. Anyhoo, this morning ride was anything but typical. When I got on the train this man was KNOCKED out - I mean coma-like sleeping. He was wearing a gray hoodie and he had drooled down the front of his sweat shirt. Now, everyone knows gray is not the color to wear if you plan to sweat or endure any other excessive amounts of bodily fluids. The man was sporting a drool bib that was 80% black. Not only was he drooling (oh and taking up two seats - mass transit pet peeve), he was snoring so loudly my JT jam session was interrupted.

I'm also one of those people that has what they call "an eye problem" I get caught staring all the time. When I see something intriguing - includes, people, places and things, it's like I have to keep looking or I might miss something. My roommate says I'm a target for muggers and my bf always yells at me for staring at the odd balls on the train. So anyway, I was literally looking at this man the whole train ride and I was starting to feel nauseated. I also started to get this sensation that I had something on my face. You know when you see someone with food on their face, you can almost feel the matter particle on yours?? Hope I'm not alone on this boat.

I mean this man was going to walk around for at least another 5 hours with this homemade bib. Who knows, maybe he needed the rest... I sure wasn't going to wake him up!
Moral of the story? Don't sleep on the train - one: you might get robbed and two: something else a shade of gray could get the best of you -


Saturday, March 26, 2011

How to practice safe cycling.

New York City has a Greenway that stretches alongside the Henry Hudson Highway, there is also one alongside the East River. Our city encourages people to use "green" transportation to travel throughout the city. Now, the greenway is also home to many skaters, runners and walkers - yes, cyclist you must share. During my run today I reached a turn around point at the first leg and I turned my head to look and a cyclist ran me over! Toe, throbbing I had to tell this wanna be Lance Armstrong that unless he was in the middle of the Tour de France, he should slow down. He yelled something back at me, but I was timing this run so I just kept going on my merry way. Here are a few points:
  1. If you are operating a car, bicycle, roller skates, roller blades or skate board - you are no longer a pedestrian and must yield to walkers and runners.
  2. Just like any sport, there are several rules of etiquette to follow, when passing on the left - announce it. 
  3. You know those bike bells? Buy one.
I hope in some strange way of the universe the man that ran me over with his bike finds this post and takes the appropriate actions to practice safe cycling. Oh and my toe is just fine, finished my 18 miler with an extra half mile for good luck.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Roller coaster called my life

This week has been a trip. I went from feeling like I've been broken up with on a post-it to attending a swanky party at 1-OAK and then preparing for my eighteen mile run tomorrow. I won't revel in the planning aspects for my run OR the annoying random mis-happenings of the week, so I will tell you about the party.
Eliza and I at Platform H fundraiser: SOS Japan
First, apologies in advance to my readers from the ivy leagues, but being in a crowd of ivy leaguers brings a different attitude and style. It's like a premature billionaire boys club with anticipations to one day rule the world. If you have every hung out with a crowd like this you know what I mean. Never condescending, but always on a pedestal. They definitely know how to have a good time, but if I have to pay 20 dollars for a mixed drink that isn't used with top shelf alcohol it should come with an appetizer.

Highlight of my night was walking into the bar with my sequins dress and seeing someone wearing the same thing. She went home to change. WINNING.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

And sometimes you just know...

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Has anyone ever revealed to you that some friends can be toxic?? Yes. The toxic friend. You know that friend that really doesn't give a crap about you, but they are a lot of fun?! The ebb and flow of the relationship is just as destructive as an over flowing toilet. No one likes to clean up the mess and pending the situation you might be knee deep in poo. Those toxic people are all around, my roommate is still friends with that psycho-kleptomaniac that used to live with us and I have witness a toxic or two incognito as man stealers. Back in high school during my I'm trying to be cool years, I had one of these toxics in my life. At the time I was the only one that could drive and she convinced me it would be cool to go joy riding in the middle of school. Well since this was my first time in the cool crowd and I didn't want to disappoint - I cut class and there we went piled into my VW bug and headed to the McDonald's on the other side of the tracks. Thinking and praying that I didn't run into my dad (and practically having my stomach drop every time we passed a black Lexus) all seemed to be going well... And then a little red light came on in my car - engine, dying. Immediately, I started to cry pulled over and saw bright red liquid pouring out the bottom of the car. I called my mechanic who told me that was a really bad sign and I should stop driving immediately or the engine would blow. Why me, right? Of course, we were no where near school, how was I going to explain to my dad what happened? So I lied. And if anyone knows me, I'm a terrible liar. I blackout, forget my story and get in even more trouble. Anyhoo, my so called "friend" this whole time is giving me horrible advice telling me to ditch the car and hope someone steals it. ABSOLUTELY NOT. Needless to say joy ride over, we stopped being friends and I was grounded for a week.
Again, one of these lessons learned -why didn't any one tell me that they aren't your friends if they tell you to skip school and go joy riding in the hood?
After Prom 2005 with Shan

Out of the phase, no longer susceptible to peer pressure and balanced by my ever So True friends, I embraced my nerdy self... ahhh much better (minus the acrylic nails).

Saturday, March 5, 2011

A little R&R

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Day one of my cabin fever - I've been sick all week and now I'm ready to leave. Remember that body realization I had this week in Dear Body, what's wrong with thee? well turns out the flu like symptoms were a virus. Going back to the origins of those viral symptoms, I forgot to record my run in with the crazy drug head on Sunday night before church. Yes, a crack head - stalked me at the 125th subway, slobbering, pigeon-toed and disgusting looking, yelling at me to leave the station. Needless to say, once I got away unscathed I thought of all the things I shoulda coulda done. Like kick her!! Everyone knows people who are high lack in the reflex department... Anyhoo since she touched me when she pushed me and tried to grab my purse, I blame this virus and my sentence to the bed on her. Thanks, and no thanks.

While I'm resting, I'm also thinking - worrying is more like it, because I'm worried this week being sick has set back my training plan. I'm concerned I won't be ready for May 1st (marathon). Luckily, I have a great friend and forever running partner that reassured me that in fact it takes your body three weeks to become out of shape. So this one week and subsequent week of rebuilding should not put me off track. Before talking to my friend, I tried writing, tweeting and searching running forums for an answer from someone else who's been in my position, but nothing on record. So I'm marking this as high priority anyone in training, this will not set you back (fingers crossed, will report back in two months). It also a bit ambitious to think that within 16 weeks training for a spring race, with most of the training at the tail end of flu season that you will be healthy through that whole time.

And if you aren't training for anything, except that extra special stressful work week, good hydration and nutrition can of course keep you on track - unless you run into a crazy in the subway and then you're out of luck.

Write to you soon my dear readers!

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Great minds, don't think about gas stations.

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This past week I joined some of my younger wahoos at the Get On the Street networking event at Public House. Get On the Street a the University of Virginia is an on grounds organization (student run) that creates a connection between current students and alumni that are in the corporate jobs. Not surprisingly, most corporate and communication jobs are lacking in the diversity department (specs of pepper in a mound of salt, if you catch the drift). The purpose of this initiative is to change that! Of course, when a friend reached out to me about it - this is exactly the type of program I'd love to lend a hand to.
Anyhoo, talking to some of these fourth years reminded me of my interview experiences and getting my feet wet in the marketing/communications world! My first interview was with a search marketing company in Charlottesville, Va-  I was a third year at the time and I had no idea what to expect. I thought it was going to be thinking of clever tags for articles so they would show up in Google at the top of the search results list ... wrong. Apparently, you have to be good in math to be in search marketing. When I arrived they decided to test my skills with excel formulas (fail), then they sent me to a room with 5 chairs and a dry erase board. When the 5 suits entered the room, I was asked to figure out how many ping-pongs would fit in the room. I wasn't privy to the size of the room OR the size of a ping pong for that matter. Needless to say I started to tell jokes about how great I was at math  - my interviewed turned into a Friday night comedy routine. Five minutes later with my not so future employers entertained; they said - "Danielle, let's forget the ping pong balls, how many gas stations are there in the United States?" No joke. Blank stare. They were serious! I made up some lame story about how I was from a town with two gas stations and I'm sure that wasn't indicative of an average US city, so I didn't have a good perspective to answer the question.  Embarrassed, discouraged and disjointed - I went to my car and cried. Granted, these types of interview questions aren't expected to be spot on they really just want to see how you think - unfortunately, I never think about gas stations.

So a note to my young readers, just getting out there and getting their feet wet: if you think you had a bad interview, think of this one ... it could be worse and I'm still alive and working!

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Dear Body, what's wrong with thee?

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Slight realization this week, my body is getting older. I'm only 24, yes - but my bod just isn't reacting to things as it used to. I'm not looking forward to my metabolism slowing, child bearing hips and crackling ankles. I went on my 12 mile run this week (in preparation for the NJ marathon) I came back feeling great... and then it hit me, queasy, achy and without an appetite. Bed stricken for a good 24 hours, got me thinking: what did I sign up for? Training is getting a little challenging this year. Work stress, less sleep, trying to avoid being a hermit - all make for a less than desirable candidate for a marathon. It's not the same training and working versus training and college. You had all the time in the world in college, made your hours and had time for a 2 hour run. Now it's less about filling time than it is establishing a commitment and adding it to the to-do list. I would beg for extra hours in a day and now I spend extra time running. As rationale, I guess if I have a few hours, it might as well be used in my solace. Where are all the twenty-year old runners that are having this transition issue? Oh I know, they aren't ready to admit that at their age, 20 is becoming the new 30 and 40s are rolling back the clock. And when did I start to feel my age? Here's the deal, I told my bod healthier foods that are packed with energy and anti-oxidants are on the way. I figure I'll start taking the advice I've been hearing since college - enjoy my body, protect it, start good habits.

Keep you posted - dear readers (and runners).

Sunday, February 27, 2011

It's my anno

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Blog-anno that is. Celebrating one year of writing ... the good, decent and nonsensical. For my anno, I think it's a good idea to rehash my commitment to this blog. For those of my readers that ask, "what's your shtick?"  I can't claim to be an expert on anything exclusively, I think some people have the ability to be social influencers on the specific. You have your relationship bloggers that some people use their words as bible, your athletic blogs, which tell you the same things over and over about diet, nutrition and their daily exercise routine, etc. And those blogs are great - if you're looking for something specific. From my perspective you read for pleasure; running, relationships and even food can't always deliver. But if you combine them all and have the ability to pick and choose - you get what I'm doing; blogging for pleasure. I offer some creative insights, opinions and stories; from me to you, unfiltered, non-committal. I just ask that if you enjoy it, you share it! 

Another question: "What keeps you committed to your blog?" This one is easy. I love to write, I have a few big wigs to impress and I have an ambitious goal to reach multitudes of people. I know the publishing industry is experiencing a mini-crisis right now, but I think it's because people aren't enjoying what they read. Everything is being recycled, reused and re-purposed. My posts,  thoughts/opinions I hope are interesting enough to not be considered as lackluster as this year's super bowl ads. Now, I'm not committing that I will write the next great American novel, but I seek to entertain, give a break in the mundane and get a few things off my chest every now and then.

And now a note of importance in history: Remember the week before you went back to school, your parents took you back to school shopping for notebooks, pens, pencils etc? If you were like my parents, who waited until Sunday night and all the stuff was picked over, the only notebooks that were left in stock were those expensive Five-Star multi-subject notebooks. So that's what I started with every school year, organizing five subjects into those sectioned tabs (color coded of course). Years later, I figured what better way to start my writing career than with another notebook - a multi-subject one filled with a multitude of characters, stories, opinions, hopes and dreams.

So here we are, one year under the belt. Thanks to all the my dear readers, dedicated over the last year - I hope you continue to read, comment and share, trust me there are more interesting, embarrassing and just plain happening things to come. Happy Anno!!!

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

I didn't know it was 1811...

I couldn't resist commenting on this notion of "Black Thanksgiving". Coined by sports writer Mike Wilbon, but condoned by CNN, ESPN and their apparent non-biased writers. Congratulations on pointing out the Black attendance at the events, with your reasoning the Black Plague must have started in Africa.

Here's the thing, there's more to Black culture than basketball and Roscoe's chicken and waffles. Yes, rappers and basketball players tend to be Black, but that doesn't suggest that our youth strive solely for those positions. And finally, just because we have a Black president and certain media channels are considered liberal (or as they say un-biased), does not give you card blanch to decorate events with names like 'Black Thanksgiving' and 'The Black Super Bowl'. Most Black people are forced to accept this subtle racism because these type of comments are not on the diversity exclusion form yet, because they are considered harmless.
I had a friend a few weeks ago that mentioned he was on the 2 train with a gang - they were loud, obnoxious and he told me the only way to describe them would be with the N word. This reference to my friend and the CNN/ESPN reporters proves that their vocabulary and creativity has not advanced beyond our 19th century notion of Black culture - because hey, if there is chicken and basketball involved can't go wrong with calling it Black, right?

Monday, February 14, 2011

Happy, happier, love

Ah, Valentine's Day... all the typically cliches linger in the air. This time of year always makes me think about the "happily ever after", what it used to mean vs. what it means now. Back in the day, Cinderella was my favorite movie - my dad tells me I would cry and cry once the wedding bells rang and The End would appear on the screen. Back then, the only thing I was worried about was seeing the story again; anticipating the fantastical obstacles fate threw at the couple to keep them apart, but only in the end to see that true love prevailed! I didn't care what happened after "The End" because that was it; if they wanted you to think on it they would conclude the movies with "The Beginning". Every couple has their story and to the larger public once you hit happily ever after, it's just that, it's happy forever after that moment. With all the critiques and comments made about Disney Princess movies we should all consider that as our mantra for love: ... and you live happily ever after. But, see, Cinderella might have lost her shoe that day, but she knew where it was and she wasn't sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop - she was with Prince Charming, not  Prince "I'm temporarily" Charming "until you rationalize me as less than that". I'm thinking at that moment, when the wedding bells start to ring in the movie, Cinderella decided to live her life in that moment when she was happy.

A note to my dear readers, this post isn't to be taken as naive, it's one thing to fall in love and decide then and there this is love, it is quite another thing to fall in love with the idea of a person and have your expectations fall short.
So now, happily ever after makes me think of one moment. I can remember a physical moment in space and time when I fell in love. When something inside me was so happy and so present running for miles couldn't exert this energy. And with all his faults I can't help but still feel that happy - and when you are this happy, it doesn't have a time stamp, so it could very well be ever after... Happy Valentine's Day!!

Monday, February 7, 2011

Trip to Lala Land

So I guess the reason they call it lala land is because people are crazy to pay this much money to live there! When you are paying an arm and a leg to live in New York it's because you actually live closer to infamy and celebrities. I expect to rub elbows with SJP in the elevator at work, in LA I didn't see one notable celebrity randomly walking down the street. The other thing is, when people talk about LA they mention how relaxed and free they are ... I think that relaxed attitude is confused with being lazy. No one is ever in a rush. My theory is since everything happens on the east coast three hours before LA hears about it, west coast people are like "oh well, we already missed it, no point in rushing now!"
It's weird, the way we value time in the city. Nothing is on time, everything is late and needed five minutes ago; ah, the value of a New York Minute...
Getting back to LA, women there dress to impress. You would think, NYC, a fashion city and no one looks very fashionable. Women walk around New York looking like they haven't slept in days and validate it with the trenta size latte from Starbucks (by the way, a trenta holds a whole bottle of wine ... wowzers I'm trying that one and will report back). Anyhoo, everyone I met looked like they were on their way to a photo shoot be it a fashion magazine or a comic book - beauties and cartoon characters make up this town. It was interesting, by the time I got use to the time difference and began to feel like a homeless person in my daily get-ups, it was time to leave.

Then, I stepped off the plane and into a blizzard ... the blistering cold stung my sunburn.  Thanks New York, oh how I missed thee.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Leaving on a jet plane ... or the Metro North

One of my dear friends is (dare I say) leaving the city. She is one of the most interesting people I know and she accepts the fact that I am perpetually 10 minutes late to all our meet ups. I met her through a mutual friend about a year ago, but in this short time frame she's miraculously chopped my mile time by :30 and more importantly, she continuously believes in me.
Of course, I'm coming to the age where I realize most of the things my parents told me were true. Like the ever popular, "you never have more that five true friends" (emphasis on true) and I'm glad to say this lady is a true friend. Anyone that will be ink friends with you IS A KEEPER!
(for those of you non-Harriet the Spy fans, I've included an ink friend connection pic). More than that, she's constantly motivated and is always up for a run in the park (even at 6:20am!). I'm telling this story with lots of parentheses because there are lots of things in between - connectors that have to be called out as such because otherwise you'll think I'm just describing any ol' buddy.

All in all, she never knows how far she can go because she has no expectations of stopping. Good luck my dear friend, write to you soon.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Ageless or Timeless?

I'm inching towards my next decade and as of yesterday; I officially have one more year to complete all the goals I set for myself before turning 25. Not to mention when I was twelve I thought by my twenties my career would be established enough for me to have a penthouse on the UWS. Needless to say, with age comes wisdom...or something like that.
It's all very interesting the way things have panned out over the last few years. Being in the school system for the majority of your life you're paired and matched with people your age and they are suppose to be your friends. You're kids, so your little antics are funny and a bonding point. When you are older and in the real world it's odd when you meet people that are ten years older (or more) and they understand you and accept your quirky little ways. Because let's face it by the time you have a job and you start planning your future you're suppose to know better than do all those silly things like make up songs, right? (Wrong. I still make up songs, my latest hit is called "checklist"- lyrics are available upon request)
I cannot argue that the longer you live (pending your life choices) the more experiences you have to pull from to create your book of wisdom. That's the only way people learn. But what about those people that make age, nothing but a number? The old soul, the person that always seems to be ahead of you by at least 20 years. The same person that convinces you to live your life with carelessness but won't reveal to you how they figured that out. Or the beautiful soul, the person that you meet and wonder how you made it this far without knowing them. Those are the kind of people that are just yours, simply, wholly and un-aged. I like to judge those people by thinking about it like this: If I were to put a memory of them in a bottle and look at it ten years later, would that person be the same? Feel the same? Still make you see yourself differently? Yes, yes and definitely.
 So here I am, still making mistakes, wondering what I'll be when I grow up and loving every year that goes by. You know a better way?

Monday, January 3, 2011

Write a little, run a little

My first post of the new year... Well, this holiday, I spent the season with my boyfriend and his family in Arizona. Oh yea, 70 degree weather! While I was there, Harriet the Spy came on, which is by far my favorite movie - even to this day. The concept is simple she writes because, she wants to remember everything and know everything. This thinking also lead to her espionage, but nonetheless - it's true. Is it possible this movie I watched when I was nine took this many years to figure out what it all really means?
2010 was a year to pick up the pieces, but in the end I figured out a few things. I write because I believe writers understand a truth that not all can see and real writers are able to make this truth beautiful;  "beauty is truth, truth beauty. That is all ye know on earth and all ye need to know" - John Keats.
I run because I like the sound that my anxiety and negative thoughts make chasing behind me consistently slower than my own pace. When I run, all my affirmations, day dreams and counting over power so nothing but steady breathing and progression happen in the span of a run.

Get it yet? Two things. Truth and beauty, for me writing and running. At least now I know what I can do to get me through the year.
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