Don't worry, Be Happy!

My early morning decison is to let today be a good day for me. Since I am facing a billion and one problems the only thing I can do is ignore them. I am stressed to my limit and therefore, I am rebelling against the negativity. I am going to ignore my problems. Be happy today. Maybe I'll write out a plan to fix 'em and then I'll really be feeling good.

I found something

I found this new site, I think I like it. But I only read it for like 5 seconds http://www.ins.org.I hate Hero's guts today. i haven't talked to him in almost two weeks, thats like the craziest thing ever. Whenever I have good days with my male friends I don't think about him. Actual sets of 24 hours have passed when he did not cross my mind but today I hate his dog faced ass. I should go slap Tyrese-face or something.

Conflicting behavior

I was thinking about the title of my blog and how I really wanted to go back to what it used to be. But how I had to change it ‘cause I’d let Hero in on the URL. I guess it doesn’t matter much-except that I hope I didn’t have any faithful readers who are lost without me. Anyway, why am I BrownDays? ‘Cause that’s how my days are. Colors are hard to define except their make-up. Like yellow and blue makes green. Or emotions that are associated with them like I’m feeling blue or gray. But brown is soo in between. Just like me. I’m just so all over the place without any true definition. Lately, I begin to search for myself. This cliché always seemed so damned stupid for me. Because who can you be besides you right? I mean regardless of what I am doing, I’m doing it, so therefore that’s me. Like even if I am doing something I really don’t want to do, something completely out of my element then, it’s still me, because I am the one that’s doing it. Like, I have close friends that are attorneys or friends that are total nerds but then I have friends that live in the projects who are 21, with four babies. Or how I go to school three days per week, perform brilliantly in class and on tests and especially with essays but I go to the most urban clubs ever and get drunk and act a fool on the weekend. Too, how I think marijuana is lame and usually leads to disaster but I always end up in relationships with serious pot-heads. How, I go to my corporate internship, and fit in perfectly, dress and all. But then end up fighting some girl over Hero. Who in the hell am I? Am I leading two lives or am I just complex. Or, is this normal? Or am I like bi-polar or suffering from multiple personalities? All of the guys I meet love me at first ‘cause of my intellect or my "high as my current budget can afford" style. They always call me “county girl”. Where I’m from this means you are stuck-up and basically out of touch with the average black or urban community. Then once they get to know me, they realize I’m a neat combination of “county and city”. They like that even more. If you listened to the CD playing in my car, today, you would never guess that my favorite store is Banana Republic. Or Urban Outfitters, or Gap. And that I probably would never wear Roc-A Wear or G-Unit or Air Force One’s. Maybe my style is just suburban but I’m really a project chick at heart. Never lived in the projects, never really lived in the ghetto. Went to mixed magnet schools my whole life. It’s not just the urban vs. suburban drama that I am dealing with. Im conflicted in other areas too. Like how I feel like I am living outside of myself. Watching me sulk over Hero, who I haven’t talked to in over a week. But at the exact same moment knowing how bad I don’t want him. What’s that all about?

50 and fabulous, but not ghetto fabulous!

As I look back on my blog, I realized that I might be "ghetto". My relationship stories especially. However, on the contrary, I am actually very cultured and often times referred to as classy. So in honor of my moms 50th birthday, which by the way was celebrated in a most classy fashion, at an ultra classy venue, I am going to list the top 50 reasons that I am not as ghetto as my life is.

1) I am in college and not a community one.
2) I am not on section 8 or A.(see I don’t even know the term)
3) I can tell Vietnamese people from Chinese, from Korean,etc.
4) I don’t have a “Big Ma” in my family.
5) I don’t use a lot of unnecessary hand motions when I talk.
6) I don't drive a Cavalier or a Sunfire
7) I don't have acrylic finger nails.
8) I don't have any children. Nor have I ever been pregnant.
9) I don't have any play cousins.
10) I don't have any tattoos on my neck.
11) I don't own any fake bling, including teeth.
12) I don't smack when I talk or eat.
13) I follow current events, entertainment and news, closely.
14) I got a 27 on the ACT, Not 2good but that was the first try, 0 preparation
15) I have good credit
16) I have no half, step, or illegitimate siblings.
17) I own reliable transportation that I am not embarrassed to drive.
18) I just found out that WIC wasn’t a brand of baby milk, last year.
19) I just learned that its possible to cook Ramen noodles in the microwave
20) I know that the best dressed celebrity is Jessica Simpson.
21) I know, but despise, proper English
22) I lived in downtown LA, and interned on the CBS lot
23) I love authentic Mexican and Chinese and even Italian food.
24) I love fine art. I frequent Art museums and other exhibits.
25) I love soul music, especially when it’s conscious.
26) I moved out on my own, by choice with purpose, at 18.
27) I paid $130 for front row seats to the Lion King
28) I vote.
29) I wanna date a skateboarder (Preferably Pharrell)
30) I went to a private university in downtown Chicago
31) I’m CPR and First Responder certified
32) I’m related to doctors, lawyers, CEO’s, millionaires.
33) I’ve been to Benihanas.
34) I’ve been working since I was 15.
35) I'm in INROADS
36) I'm well written
37) I've been to over 30 states
38) MTV is my life
39) My boyfriend is not in jail. OKAY, OKAY, I don’t have a boyfriend.
40) My favorite movies...
41) My favorite restaurant is P.F. Changs.
42) My hair is really my hair, not because I bought it.
43) My niece’s age is not equal to or greater than mine.
44) My parents are married and were before my birth
45) No ghetto family nick names, scratch that I 4got about DeeDee
46) My longest friendship 16yrs,is with a white girl.Never mind, she’s ghetto
47) The most expensive items in my closets are my business suits.
48) I want a guitar for Christmas, or a boyfriend that plays.
49) 1 of my very best friends is an Iranian who is totally retro.
50) I have a blog.

Discombobulated

The walls seemed to be collapsing around me last night. I don't know why. I watched TV and I saw flight 292 make the miraculous landing. They played "The Rapper"'s song on the radio. That was an exciting feeling. I haven't talked to Hero since Sunday morning. He emailed me yesterday, a lot is going on with him. One of his good friends, who I have bad blood with, is in the hospital. I'm sick that he won't allow me to be there for him. I've seen his tears before and I still thought we could talk about anything. We're really not the same, I guess. I'm tired of chasing him though. I have no intentions of calling him. But if he calls me, I'll answer. I haven't been at my apt. since the "break-in". The only thing I ate yesterday was like 5 Pringles so right before I went to sleep, my head begin to pound. Migraines always depress me. They just cause a really why me this is so unfair kinda pain. So as I laid there and let my problems circulate thru my throbs, I decided to pray. For the first time in months, I dropped to my knees and prayed. I prayed for Hero's friend and her family. I prayed that "The Rapper" would have success. I prayed that I could be there for him in the ways he asks and not ruin it 'cause I like him a lot. I prayed that God help me to control my emotions. I think I prayed to get back with Hero, or maybe I prayed to get away from him. Whichever, I want our stuff settled. I thanked God for saving the lives of the 146 people on that flight. I prayed about a new apartment and my financial situation. But I mostly prayed to know what I really need to pray for.

My duty

I’ve somehow convinced myself that I am a horrible person and not properly contributing to the world if I don’t blog on that bitch Katrina. Let’s see. I mainly am sad and sickitatied by the fact that like 111% of the victims are black. I want to cry a river for my people. No pun intended. It hurts to death that Bush has left them out to dry. Once again no pun intended. But seriously, is this not the most blatant form of mass racism ever. It’s all part of a cycle. These people wouldn’t be in such horrible conditions and depending so much on Bush, had they lived fruitful lives free of impoverishment and inclusive of savings accounts and homeowners insurance. So, on that note, I could blame the victims. But, trace the blame far enough back and it’s the government’s fault that these people live the way they do. They should sell some of those gold teeth though. Damn, is that a requirement to live in New Orleans? Okay seriously again, Kanye is a fool’s baby mama. That’s worse than a fool. I can’t believe he said that on live TV. I mostly give him props but I hope he didn’t scare away the Bush lover’s money from that particular cause. Plus, did he really have to say that. The images of the sick babies, the total lack of support for the victims, the shooting of the looters and floating bodies. Really? Kanye? I didn’t know Bush hated us. Maybe someone somewhere didn’t know that though. Another hurricane topic I must touch on is the animals. Why is everybody so concerned about pets and pet shelters and adopting dogs and fostering cats? This is ignorant. Hello!!! People are more important than animals. How dare anybody waste time trying to save pets. That’s just rude, ignorant and so American if you ask me. It reminds me of my views on Gay Rights-first lets get the important stuff out of the way. Like rights for black people, then maybe we can discuss your sexual preferences. I also have to comment on the 1500+ missing children. How, how, how?

Be back later to finish.

Yes, Yes, Yes. I'm not obligated to finish because this girl from N.O. had to transfer to my school and I let her copy my notes. So, ha, I'm a model citizen.

Live from NYC

I missed church on Sunday 'cause I was in New York with Hero. He was there for a radio/promotions conference/convention thingy. I just went to relax. Friday night, I arrived pretty late. We hung out in the room. Saturday, he had conference stuff to do; I just walked around the hotel neighborhood. I slept for a few hours during the day in the plush room with the plush bed with the plush comforter. We stayed near Times Square, which was pretty neat. Once we met back up, we went to dinner and a bar. An old friend from home worked at the bar. I was excited to see her. She kept the shots of Patron and frozen Cosmos coming all night, so that was cool. Of course, as the liquor poured in, emotions poured out. I wanted to be in love with him at the moment. But I couldn't, 'cause he has hurt me so much. Plus, he wouldnt let me, he rejected my drunk kisses. But back at the room...okay wait. Hero had the nerve to talk to the ugly ex-girlfriend while we were at the bar. After he hung up I asked him politely not to do that. He asked why and said he wouldn’t care if I talked to a guy. Okay, back at the room. He wanted that drunk love, all sexy and stuff :) He looked like a lil' sad puppy drooling and willing to lick anything I permitted him to. I tried to play him. I just hopped straight in bed and went to sleep- no lingerie or nothing. (Well I was topeless with black lace panties but thats just my normal, no frills(I'm just sexy like that)) Then his phone rang twice "When Doves Cry", I knew it was Tyrese face. So that made me want him. Sick, I know. So then while she called and left voicemails, I poured myself all over him. I couldnt put as much into as I wanted but enough to make him feel good. After we were done, hell broke loose 'cause he didn't wanna cuddle. To retaliate, for the lack of cuddling, I ended up on the phone with "The Rapper". It worked, he snatched the phone and hung it up less than a minute into my conversation. Sooo? You do care!

Sometimes we fought sometimes we got along. Once when we were in bed I looked up at the ceiling and everything felt perfect. But mostly it was strange cause she was ringing his phone off the hook and "The Rapper" mine. I never saw this in our future back when I believed in my heart that we were destined for each other. I know for sure, and I told him, that he is a jerk sometimes just to keep his distance. I told him that he was afraid of what would happen if we got along too well. He said I just wanted him to stroke my ego. Uh no, ego that’s his forte, not mine. He is the one so concerned about what people think and keeping our rendezvous’ top secret. Anyway, we left on a sour note. Somehow I love and hate him more now.

I miss my Savior

I wanna see the Lord. I have not been to church in, at the very least, 2 months. I miss church so much. I told myself that after my brush with death, I would definitely go. But I didn’t. Can’t figure out why I am avoiding what used to be my favorite place. I guess because my actions lately have been embarrassing in God’s eyes and I know this. In some ways, I have reverted to that sinner that I prayed so hard to get away from. God answered that prayer truthfully and suddenly and now I am relapsing. Plus, I don’t wanna see Hero’s family. See, I used to mainly go to his church. I know that they hate me now. Usually, I am so un-caring about anybody else not liking me but I am just not ready to face them for some reason. Maybe cause I would feel the need to explain that I didn’t do what they think I did. Or maybe I am upset with God, because he took my Hero and the whole breaking in thing. (Plus all of the other negativity that is happening concurrently.) But I know more than anything I am and should be grateful that I survived the attempted break in. I thank God often for that. Like the old folks say, its just the devil. So, next Sunday, I am going to church. Devil can’t have my joy!

Quit it, you're scaring me!

I was seriously worried that I wouldn’t have anything to write about. Since I made my promise I couldn’t come up with anything else. I was hoping that something big would happen so I could keep this thing going. Man, I wish I could take all of that hoping back. I was lying in bed when I heard the loudest, most thunderous sound ever. I hopped up and ran to my apartment door. I looked thru the peep hole and saw a man using his entire body and all of his might, to force my door open. What the fuck was going on? I had no idea. I just pressed my body up against the door, screamed and held on to the door knob for dear life. We tugged back and forth on the door for close to a minute. I saw the door frame begin to edge away from the wall and took a second to think. I ran back into my bedroom, grabbed my cell phone and begin calling 911. By the time I'd pressed all buttons and the call went thru, I was back holding down the fort. I was much more agitated than scared. I just kept screaming "quit hitting my fucking door". I gave the 911 dispatcher my address and was explaining that someone was trying to break in, she interrupted my dissertation with "Hold on, let me transfer you to your county". This had to be the saddest sentence I had ever heard in my life. My well being was in grave danger and I was being tele-transferred. This is a catastrophe. So any way, he stopped pushing. I stayed at the door for a second and then I rushed to the window. I saw him hop into the passenger seat of an old pick-up with a camper. He meddled on his lap and talked with the driver. Yes! There was another person. Both of them were dressed in all black. WHAT THE FUCK? I honestly think he was going to kill me. I don’t know who he was or what this was about. So far from the lifestyle that I lead; confusing. Then the racist cop kept asking was it my deranged boyfriend or friends playing jokes. Am I laughing? No fucker, I work and I go to school and my boyfriend…never mind, I promised. I have a few theories. My car hasn’t been at my house for like 5 days so maybe someone somewhere thought I wouldn’t be there and they would rob my poor ass. Or maybe, my main theory, he just had the wrong house. But also, I’m thinking this dude was going to kill me. I hate the police even more now. ‘Cause they treated my life-threatening situation like a joke. I have never been more confused. I can’t trust anyone anymore. After all of this, I am not scared for my life, because I am not scared to die.

Promise

I promise myself that the next four blogs (at least) will be either random and or highly thoughtful but not about boys, I mean men (wink wink). I am boring myself with my male issues. So I'll just get this out of my system. I gave my number to at least 6 people in one night. The night of the video shoot. Some there and some at a club. Probably 'cause I was so sexy that day. I had makeup and lashes done at MAC. And I wore my favorite sexy shirt. The skinny heifers at the video shoot let me show them up--SUCKAS! So anyway, I am sure than when I am done fasting from "men blogs", I'll have a lot of new men stories. P.S. last thing, I promise, Hero called and said sorry about not checking on me, well actually, he said he did but there was no answer. I miss him a lil' today!

Ball of confusion

I’ll list the incidents, you comment, I’ll try to draw a conclusion:

1. “The Rapper” had a video shoot.
2. He acknowledged me as soon as I got there. With hugs and kisses “ I am so glad you came, I didn’t think you were coming”
3. The midget was there
4. EVERY time he had a free second he found me and pulled me close with kisses and hugs and small talk.
5. The midget was fixing his hair between shots and he sent her behind the scenes to get his “wardrobe change”.
6. The midget knew all of his friends and family.
7. When the girls did solo dance shoots, the midget was all over him and she was the only one who did it twice.
8. Some girls apologized to her after the solo shots, on like a “Girl, you know this is just for the video, I am not trying to steal your man” thing.
9. Whenever he was on me the midget and her friends were looking and rolling their eyes...BITCHES!
10. He didn’t show the midget any affection.

What does this all mean?

1. Who am I to him?
2. Who is the midget?
3. Why is he all over me around his friends, family, business people (more than when we are alone)?

After the shoot he called me and I made a joke about being his wife. He went on a trip about “You need to understand how things look from my eyes, everybody is getting antsy, trying to figure out their roles in my life, it’s hard for me to judge what’s real and what’s not, you are the only person I call when I get a second and you don’t seem to appreciate that, you should know how I feel about you.” I do notice that he always calls me and lets me know his every move. I notice how affectionate he is in public. But he can’t half-way do me while he determines if I am a gold-digger. That’s unfair; some women are after his money (or potential money). But not me. He better hope he doesn’t lose me while he is trying to figure what’s real.