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Showing posts with label MAD crazy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MAD crazy. Show all posts

Arbitration


"Heaven Only Knows" by John Legend


...heaven only knows / heaven only knows...


I am sitting in this Art History 104 class, an important class to complete for my psychology major.  I almost didn't get into it and this professor was so kind as to give me an override and register for this class.

It was a struggle to get into this class because, although it was offered at many times, I had to pick a time that would not interrupt my work schedule (don't worry boo! I'ma tell you about my job!).  My job is quite flexible about accommodating my class schedule.  However, I don't want my hours to dwindle and reduce that fat check boo.

Today, I finally finished registering.  I have one class on Monday, Art History, and four classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  Yes, that leaves Wednesdays and Fridays completely open.  I will be using those days as reading days in the morning before and after work.

So I am here sitting in this Art History class, which I was a little excited about.  I am an inconspicuous artist and of course I love history.  What better combination could there be than art and history?  What could be more interesting than to learn what cultural, religious, political, economic, and social circumstances that create and influence art?  I would be enthralled to learn about the way art has changed over centuries, how different artists influence one another, how art is an ancient, eternal, and universal conversation amongst human beings.

It ain't like that.

First of all, my professor is kind of a prick.  She's a young professor, probably an artist herself, extremely controlling, has too many rules, and is generally annoying.  Her most absurd rules are that you cannot use/have a laptop or cell phone in class.  Harmless right? But wait.  If you do use one of these two things, you will be permanently dismissed from class with a grade of W or F.

Heffah say what?

I agree with the no cell phone policy.  All these ringtones and collective vibrating is extremely distracting in class.  It also extremely offensive to the professor whose job it is to facilitate the acquisition of knowledge.  This job can only be performed if students pay attention and participate.

But to dismiss people from class? Absurd! This is college and this is typically a course taken late in one's college career by us non-art majors (because everybody waits until their last semester to complete their art credit).  We are adults and deserve some autonomy in our classes.  If taking notes on my laptop is the way I choose to catalog my notes, I should definitely be able to do so.  I find it insulting.  We pay to attend these classes and most of us are experienced enough in the academic field to use the form of note-taking and class participating that will most optimally facilitate our learning.

I kept giving her this side-eye/I-want-to-slap-you look.  I wish she would "permanently dismiss" me from her class.  I will permanently dismiss her from life. #andthatsreal

And this class is 2 hours and 45 minutes long, which I thought would be fine, but her rules and this dry ass material is killing me.  Of course, it is all the history of European art.  No colored folks up in chyea.  Shocking.

Please let me get an A in this class God.  My coursework will be remarkable as always but my attitude could be rank.  I believe professors dock some points for attitude.  I could come out of pocket and tell her about herself.  Don't get it twisted.  They have egos too.

Get Off My Line

"Don't Take It Personal" by Monica

... it's just one of them days / that a girl goes through / when i'm angry inside / don't wanna take it out on you / it's just one of them days / don't take it personal / i just wanna be all alone...

I have a confession.  I created a twitter account...and I love it.  I am not sure what twitter's appeal is, even though I am using it, but I am a little addicted.

I even configured my phone to be able to text twitter an update that will show up online without actually having to go online using my phone, although I can if I want to.  Dope, huh?

Twitter is interesting to me because I like reading the random thoughts people have.  What one says on twitter is without parameter so people "tweet" random existential questions, observations, opinions, wishes, etc.  It is quite interesting.

And then there is the feature of tweeting "@" particular users or commenting on #trending topics within the twitter community.

I follow CNN and NPRnews on twitter which is great.  I get little snipbits of information about particular issues or occurrences with links to a more explanatory site.

Tweeting is very much of a guilty pleasure for me.  I have been complaining of late how technology is taking over my life and making me anxious.  Between texting, email, and phone calls coming through my phone, I feel tied down to something.  Every time I move, my phone must be accounted for so as not to miss anyone trying to reach me.  I am a slave to the thing.

I have to be 100% available 100% of the time.  If you don't answer a person in a timely manner, you must be dying.

But really, I just don't want to be that available.  When the phone goes off, I almost always check it of course, as some situations are more pressing than others.  When a friend is having less than satisfactory day, we converse and I provide encouragement.

However, of late, when the phone rings, I am immediately anxious.  I have so many people and things I participate in my life that seem to be constantly reaching out to me, constantly needing me.

And I feel so bad.  I feel obligated to answer and respond all the time, so as not to offend anyone or neglect anyone or skip out on my responsibilities.

I almost want to get another phone number and only give it to the people that I don't mind texting, emailing, talking to...the people who don't make me nervous...so that I can turn the other phone off and enjoy silence and peace of mind.

I can't wait to visit Sierra Leone and leave all electronics behind and live in the quiet we have disrupted with technology

...a simple kind of life...

Ball & Chain

"Since I Seen't You" by Anthony Hamilton

On the blog Shahedah and I share ownership of, I wrote an entry about a horrible dream I had of the most important and remarkable woman in the world to me. The dream felt like One Cup of Fear in an otherwise slow day.

Since that dream, I have felt a spirit that wants to at least entertain the idea of forgiveness. The dream made my anger and frustration seem so pointless. If I try to hate her, what will it turn into when she dies?

So resentment and anger loosed their grips on my heart and I wrote an email to my mother explaining that our bickering is quite stupid and it means nothing in the grand scheme. I told her I don't know why she isn't talking to me and I don't know what I did, but I don't care. I just wanted her to know that I wasn't mad. I also pointed out some faultiness in some things she thinks I am doing (like drugs). There's no way in hell I'm doing drugs. But I guess she can't see me on campus and how much I have to do and how little time I have for drugs if I were doing them. And remember my GPA last semester. Don't nobody on the pipe pull those kinds of grades.

I digress. I just wanted her to know that I wasn't mad. Sometimes, we retain and nourish our anger in defense of someone else's anger. She may think I am mad at her and think it unfair or dumb that I am mad at her so then she will be mad at me and vice versa. I know. How ridiculous.

She replied in a brief message that she just needed to think things out. I thought I wasn't going to get a response at all so I was elated to see that and gladly began to wait for her to"think things out".

And here I am, 2 and a half weeks later, still waiting for her reply. What I know is, she is not going to reply, which really irritates me. I have written letters to her before. One was incredibly poetic but very genuine and I was desperate to talk to her. She said some things happened and she forgot about it. This has happened a few other times.

She just doesn't want to talk about it. She just wants me to "get my act together" and move on. I don't think she thinks there is anything to discuss. Why do we refuse to get along? Why are we both so stubborn? Why do we have to be right? How are we hurting each other? What can we do to stop?

These are good questions. We should address them, talk about it. But we don't. For her, the problem lies with me. I am not "behaving". I'm almost 23 years old. I'm far past "misbehaving". I hate when they say that. That is what adolescents do, "misbehave". We just don't get along quite plainly and if it were up to the lovely Marie Umarr-Kamara, BSN, MSN, we would just stick in this cycle forever.

Recovering from all the mess that we have endured in the last 3 years will require some honest, serious, maybe hurtful conversation and she doesn't want to do it. The problem has nothing to do with the sometimes mean and manipulative behaviors my parents sometimes employed to "reign me in". The problem is all me. I don't listen. I do this. I do that. I don't do this. I don't do that.

Fine. I messed up. I should have listened in some instances and I'm glad I didn't in others. But the problem can't even be fixed. Me and moms are like 2 highly skilled, stubborn doctors with two very different diagnoses.

She is still ignoring me now, even though I really need her to give me that stethoscope...5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

And we are back to Square 1. Welcome back. FML.

A God Who Eats Sausages

"Welcome to Heartbreak" by Kanye West

...and my keeps spinnin' / can't stop havin' these visions / gotta get with it...

This wonderful week was spent with my wonderful family. My two cousins, Mankappr and Shahedah came to visit Richmond for this last leg of the summer before we all return to school and work. Mankappr came down from Delaware and Shahedah came up from North Carolina.

Our family is very, very dramatic. The pair of parents in the network are demanding, unforgiving, emotionally unavailable, but expect a genuine, strong relationship.

Little do they know, all the kids they have raised feel no real connection to them. They are ready to pack and leave as soon as they have the financial means to do so.

I have written a journal entry about this and expressed that I think it is so sad. We actually have such a wonderful culture that teaches us to be selfless, self-motivated, self-reliant, responsible, considerate, and encourages unending generosity and helpfulness to one another. We have such funny and fun times together and it is amazing to see us in action when there is a crisis to handle.

Ho
wever, the judgmental, gossipy, irrational characteristic is overbearing. It negates an emotional relationship between parent and child. The child resents the parents' harshness, a harshness that is a little out of place in this American bubble they are raising the culturally hybridized child. It sucks.

So, Mankappr, Shahedah, and I have been bouncing from aunt's house to aunt's house, visiting and having a good time. One of our aunt's made a stink about me sleeping at her house. I told you my mom talks shit about me to anyone that is familiar with me and will listen.

For that reason, my aunt just doesn't want me to spend the night with her children, although while she was in school and her kids could not drive, I would keep them on weekends and chauffer them around anywhere they needed to go. I catered to them like they were my own children because I have paid attention to our culture and that is what is accepted as appropriate.

You think it would end there right? My aunt is being a little annoying. I won't go over there anymore. Situation over. Nope.

S
he calls and complains to Shahedah's mom (yikes, that is a mean, scary lady) that we have all left and gone to our Auntie Oumie's house. Now they are all wound up. Auntie Aminata (the disgruntled aunt who said I shouldn't sleep at her house) talks more shit about me that is not true, but what can I do?

It becomes such a situation that Shahedah is screamed on during a phone call from her mother and told to come home the next day.

Then God explained to me that they are all like this. The whole family is suffering from the same disease of ridiculousness, konzosah (gossip), and dramatics. They don't mean to. They are trying to protect us. But there is no need to suffer under such hurt feelings at the hands of parents with good intentions and bad decisions.

But I have left them all behind. I have found a place, a purpose, a use in this world that is all my own, not contingent upon the approval of the family that is most inconsistent.

Now I am just waiting on the love of my life, with the wonder of lavender, to be all mine and make a family of my own.

Home Alone, Part Who Freakin' Knows

"Nikki" by The Dream

...now your heart is broken / go on 'head and pick it up...

So Will texted me. I was nice and patient even though I just wanted to say all kinds of nasty insults that I rehearsed when the ship sunk but never got a chance to say. We stopped talking (I'm still not totally sure how he has my new number because I didn't give it to him!). But he decides to randomly contact me. It was obvious that he was intoxicated or altered in some fashion, otherwise he wouldn't have had the nerve, as he admitted himself. So I couldn't be that mad. He wasn't totally in control of himself.


However, I cannot understand why he would think I want to have contact with him. He said that w
hen he checked on me on my birthday this year, I said I forgave him. I was probably altered. I was in Miami and you know what happened in Miami! I want to forgive him and in those moments in which the details of my life and pain are fuzzy, I can forgive anyone, at least for a while.

And honestly, I know that as a child of God I should have forgiven him by now. There are a litany of people who I should have forgiven by now but I find it wholly impossible. I'm weak for pain. I feel it so deeply, it's so paralyzing, I cannot figure out how to let it go. And it is not as though I haven't done wrong to others.


But I still hate him. I still do. I have stopped wishing for bad things for him. I only did that for a very short while. But given the continued decrepit condition of my life, as much as I want to "let go of the past", I don't know how.


And I don't know that I want to. These experiences are the kinds of things that teach me how to be less naive and less trusting, which is what gets me in so much trouble. I should know better but when I love someone, I trust them. I didn't think it would be a problem if he knew my master password. Stupid.

I just believe people will be just as good to me as I am to them or try to be to them.
In the end, it wasn't even what he had done but more what he said. I know he was angry. But as time has passed, I wonder why that is the emotion he had. You don't know what I'm talking about but if I had a friend in the shape that I was in, anger would have been my least likely expressed emotion.

When I was "loco", Gwenny and Christina were willing to put our friendship on the line to ensure my health and safety. They knew it was possible that I would not want to be their friend anymore after they brought my situation to light, but it was worth it to save my life.


F
or that reason, I have always been confused by his reaction. I have remained furious about it. When all was said and done, the ego I fear in every man spoke up for him instead of the caring, loving person I knew, a person who seemed to really love me unconditionally.

The situation between Will and I has dulled the light I used to see in people. I am afraid now, most of the time, around new people. And I don't want to introduce new people into my life. It seems more trouble than it is worth.


There is a solid circle of people who have never swayed, never left, never really disappointed. I have resolved that they are all I need.

I still love people. I am still outgoing. But I am guarded. Sometimes I am sad because I wonder about the interesting and good people I am missing out on. Will was interesting and good to me, at least for a while. I miss (sometimes) the thrill of new personalities but it spares me of much pain. The trade-off is fair.