A bit of perspective

I'm not a believer in the idea that you should downplay what's going on in your life because someone else has it worse. Someone always has it worse - but that doesn't mean that my shit isn't valid.

That said sometimes you hear about someone else and their struggles and how much worse they have it and how they're kicking ass and it's just like: whoa. I've just got depression and superficial stuff - but this, this is real.

That's how I felt when I read this blog posting by Jeff W., a fellow "Yelper" who I don't know, but but I admire for sharing his story. I am impressed and inspired by his strength. I was also happy to hear earlier today that the mass spotted on the scan was not cancerous. Nevertheless, I'm sending positive thoughts, well wishes, and prayers for Jeff's health and love to his family.

If I looked like this...

If I looked like this:

Saleisha from ANTM9

I would be such a bitch. And would dress like a hooker. Seriously, I would be horrible. You would hate me. Which is why God will never let me look like that. Plus there's my love of Haagen-Dazs.

Now, lest you think that I'm worrying my pretty little head about EVER being that thin...I'm not. I, personally, would look like a bobble head if I put my head on that body. I honestly like my body. But I would be such a bitch if I looked like that. An unbearable bitch.

But speaking of ANTM and being a not small person. This is the token plus size girl:

Sarah from ANTM9

Seriously? SERIOUSLY?


Photos from: http://community.livejournal.com/topmodel/1659691.html

The visit

Mom and I in Chicago this Summer

My mother is coming to visit. She arrives tonight and is staying through next Wednesday. Whew..sigh. I love my mom - but her visits stress me out so much.

Here's the backstory. I am the quintessential member of the black middle class in-between generation. We're just like any other first-generation American group, except our parents were born here. For me, this means straddling between the highly religious, family oriented, thrifty world of my mom's and the fun, spiritual not religious, consumeristic world of my (mostly white) peers. It's remembering that while I occasionally curse around friends - or at least lace my sentences with an effing or hella, that's not acceptable. It's remembering to hide my condoms and cigarettes and "toy" when she visits. It's remembering to call before a date to pre-empt any interruptions.

It is tiring. Extremely tiring. And I know, as I'm told any time she visits, that I'm a "grown-ass woman", but it's a lot easier to be a grown-ass woman when she's 2000 miles away. It's simplistic to think that I can just not do the necessary things - slip a curse word in here, leave the cigarettes I rarely smoke in the console of the car, and be open about who I spend time with. I know there are people who do that. People whose parents are open and understanding about premarital sex and cursing and whatever else. But I can't. Trust me - I can't. It's not like I could do that, tell her I'm a grown-ass woman and that be the end of it. No no no. I left a pack of cigarettes in my car years ago. I was 20. I'm still occasionally asked if I'm trying to "sneak and smoke." Ummmmm yeah - I'm 20something and live thousands of miles away...I don't have to sneak to smoke. I get regular lectures on the dangers (physical, like STDs, and emotional) of premarital sex...with the extra warning that it's going to send me to hell.

I am learning to give her a little more benefit of the doubt that she won't flip and just assert myself. I've finally admitted that I don't go to church, I don't want to go to church and I won't until I figure-out how I feel about church and God and religion. While she's hinted toward her disappointment a couple times (asking me if we were going to church this visit and how much she wants to), she's largely left me alone about it. I did tell her, ahead of time, of a trip to Tahoe with a guy I'd been kinda dating and she completely freaked me out by asking if I had cute undies and pajamas. I didn't tell her nothing happened on that trip.

And it's not just the superficial behaviors that I hide to gain her approval. Having her here, in my space, is a challenge. She hasn't arrived yet, but I'm exhausted from cleaning and planning and trying to show her that the sacrifices she made to raise me were worthwhile. In my own whacked out head, every visit is a referendum on my appreciation of everything I was given and an opportunity to ...I don't know....give her fodder for the parents' game of look what my kid is doing? show off my "maturity"? Lord only knows why I freak out so much about it. But I do.

So, she's visiting - for 8 days. Yes, I have everyday planned. Dinners, brunch, SFMoMA, Napa, a hike, the spa etc. Of course I'll be pissed when she wants to change most of it. And I have apartment stocked with goodies for her. Which I already slightly resent because she barely had any food in the house when I last visited her. But I really am happy she's visiting. Happy and stressed - but happy.

Engagements

OK - I'm going to say it one last time, and it's just going to have to count for everyone.

"Congratulations!"

There. I've said it. I'm happy for you. I think it's great that you've found someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. I think all of your wedding ideas are great. It's going to be beautiful and who cares what your family wants - it's your day and as long as you're happy, that's all that matters.

Now, when is this going to happen for me??????????


I was never one of those girls who wanted to get married. I've always been fiercely independent, and I realize that this is more about feeling left out of the club that everyone is joining, than really being ready to make a lifetime commitment. But goshdarnit, I WANNA GET MARRIED.

Every week another friend gets engaged. I think I'm in the last 30 girls in my high school class to get married or engaged...and about 20 of them have long-term boyfriends and will get married soon. I'm seriously pushing the point where I can barely feign happiness and support for my friends. Which then just makes me feel like a bad person - and the fact that I'm a bad person is why I'm going to be single forever.

And it's not just the joy of having a lifelong companion, you get prizes for it. Meanwhile I have to buy all of my own kitchen gadgets and linens and undies. bah! Not to make this all about consumer goods, but really? Just cause I'm single I don't need a kitchenaid mixer? Sigh.

In all seriousness, I'm having a really tough time with this - inexplicably tough. I really just want to be happy for my friends and secure in the knowledge that at the right time and with the right person, this will happen for me, but I can't. I have very little faith in happy endings for me. So the fact that I'm very single basically destroys the hope that I'll be joining the married club any time soon. And yes - I know - when I stop looking, I'll find someone (god, I could write a whole entry on idiotic that sentence is), but my patience is thin.

So, in the meantime - Congratulations.

Ring photo courtesy tiffany.com

The Weekend and the Apartment

I live in a shoebox. Well, my landlady likes to call it a 400 sq ft in-law studio.

But for our purposes, we'll call it it a shoebox. And it's probably closer to 350 sq. ft, but who's counting.

Although I've lived there for 6 months, I was struggling with making the apartment liveable. According to the author of Apartment Therapy, you should be prepared to spend up to 1 month's rent in making the apartment fit your needs. Ummm well - I don't have that kind of cash sitting around. So I've been working at it a little at a time.

I had an unexpected influx of cash this week, so this weekend I tackled some of the things that would immediately make my life easier. I purchased storage for my kitchen (it's a converted space - so it had no cabinetry...just islands from Ikea and a small sideboard) and a couch.

The change has made a HUGE difference. I'll post some before and after pics soon (the apartment is in its usual state of mess) but cooking and living and eating is much easier. I've still a few other things to work out and other things that can't be changed, but I'm happy that my house is (almost) a home.

I have to highly recommend Apartment Therapy by Maxwell Gillingham-Ryan and his website/blog Apartment Therapy. He's starting another online 8-week "cure" on September 5. I'm not sure if I'm going to join into this one again, but if you live in a small space - it's a great way to start making it work for you.

All About Me

I realized last night that in my introduction I really didn't say anything substantive about who I am. So here goes...

• I'm 24 years old
• I'm single
• I'm black/African American/a Person of Color/whatever the term is now
• I live in Oakland, CA
• I grew up in Indiana - and no, not Gary, Evansville
• I attended American University in Washington, DC
• Tuesday is my least favorite day of the week
• I don't know how to ride a bike
• I have suffered from Depression for most of my life
• My MBTI type is INTJ
• My favorite flowers are peonies and dahlias
• People I admire: my mom, my aunts (Ann, Vivi, Sharon), Carly Fiorina, Elaine Brown
• People who irk me: Beyonce, Tyra, probably others but they're repeat offenders

That's me. At least for now

By the way...

I realize that my page is very pink. I'm not sure how I feel about it either.

Welcome to my brilliant and fabulous world

I think I'm pretty amazing. I want to share my amazingness with the world.

Wait, I don't think that sounded quite right.

Anyway, I have a pretty interesting (in a dull kinda way) life. I think I have knowledge and insight to offer because I've found brilliant and fabulous solutions to not optimal situations. I decided to create this blog as a venue for me to share my experiences and thoughts and ramblings (I ramble a lot) in the hope that I can make a difference.

I plan to talk about all the things that affect my life and whatever other random topics hit me. I had another blog that was quasi-political. This one is more quasi-personal. I'll try to represent my life in as truthful a manner as possible, but details will be changed to protect my identity/safety, the identities of others, and if they make me look really bad.

Please leave comments - I'll moderate, but try not to edit - cause I can always use more knowledge and insight to build on my brilliance and fabulousness.