I Can’t Drive Left- Footed [and other things I'm Incapable of Doing Successfully]

There is a song by Bill Withers titled “I Can’t Write Left-Handed.” It’s about a man who returns from  the Vietnam war and due to his injuries he now is left handed because his right hand has been so severely injured that he can no longer write with it. It is a very deep, moving, and politically charging song that I’m sure most people who know veterans or who were veterans can relate to…….unlike this post which is superficial and politically pointless BUT entertaining. There are some things in life that I am really bad at doing and every time I attempt them I fail pathetically.

Here’s a list of some them:

Driving with my left foot

Wanna know how I know this? Because I tried it. I was coming to a stop light and my right foot started itching so I was like, “hey I’ll just drive with my OTHER foot. It’s not doing anything important.”

I almost died.

Not only did I press the gas instead of the brake but my whole spatial driving method was thrown off. I had to hurry up and slam my awkward left foot on the brake to make sure I didn’t roll my faithful Impala into oncoming traffic. It was very awkward and I haven’t tried to do that ever again because I’m probably now forever scarred from left-footed driving.

Text (or do anything on my phone) and walk

I love my iPhone.

A lot. If you’re not aware of how much I love my iPhone you can check out this post and you will understand the depthof my connection with my phone. That being said I am entirely too attached to my iPhone and I’m always doing crap on it. Like texting someone, playing

That is me.

Words with Friends, playing The Sims Freeplay, playing Family Feud, checking in on FourSquare, or looking through my email. Since I’m on the thing so much I sometimes attempt to do one of the previously mentioned things while I’m trying to get somewhere. Every single time I do it, it fails miserably.

Thing is, I already walk poorly. I walk in a straight line, like one foot directly in front of the other when I take steps, and therefore I kinda don’t walk straight. It’s weird I know but if I’m not paying attention to where I’m walking I’m like a car in need of a realignment when you take your hands off the wheel. I start to veer a little to the left or right, so you can imagine what happens when I completely take my eyes off where I’m walking and am focused on a small artificial version of Scrabble…..I still have the bruise on my knee from when I slammed into a dresser a month ago. It was very painful. The only thing I can do on my phone while walking is talk on it and even then I’m getting risky.

Greet my friends on campus without Looking like I should be in some type of “Special learning” track in school

Ok I really love seeing my friends but since we’re getting all grown up and getting lives we all tend to be pretty busy. So busy that we hardly ever see each other. So when I do casually see them on campus I get really excited. So  excited that I tend to yell their names out loud and flail my arms about wildly. My friends of course are like “Oh it’s just that Bri. She cray,” but I’m sure everyone else is just like “She cray. Let me get on the opposite side of the street to avoid this psychopath.”

Breakdance

I just can’t.

Raise my voice without sounding extra ethnic

There are certain casual arguments that I get into with other people every so often. Nothing serious just certain discussions that require an elevated volume for emphasis. However, when I raise my voice a lot of times it comes out extra ethnic and extra New Orleans. If you ever heard me talk you probably wouldn’t be able to tell where I’m from because I don’t sound quite like Toya but when I get really loud or really annoyed I start to get a lil ig’nant with my speech.

Stay Consistently Fashion Savvy for more than a week at a time

Every school year the exact same ting happens. I start off saying “ok this year is going to be the year. This is the year I’m gonna be super cute everyday and turn heads all the time with all my cool kid effort and flawless makeup.”

By the end of the week I end up in my New York and Company Boot Cuts, some sneakers, a JabbaWockeez t-shirt, and my hair in a ponytail. It just never stays going for long enough for anyone to notice…and why? Because I am super lazy.

Not Be Creeped Out By Hologram People-Dead or Alive

So at Coachella this weekend, the technological geniuses at the festival made a full-out hologram re-creation of Tupac Shakur and had him perform a 5-minute set of his classics, with Snoop Dogg coming in on the last two minutes or so and performing with him. I’m sure you’re like, “Wow technology sure is something eh! Hologram performances? Sure! Why the heck not!” Thing is, Tupac has been dead for 16 years…..that’s creepy as all get out to me. As I watched the video on Youtube I got more and more freaked out the longer I watched. I mean, the likeness was crazy, he looked just like he did back in ’96 before he got shot. It was like watching a ghost perform.

I don’t enjoy the company of ghosts.

Honestly, hologram anything is creepy because it reminds me of the mom in that movie Smart House who went all cray and turned the house into a virtual prison because she was obsessed with the family. I’m not having a hologram anything go all ham on me and turn my house or car into a prison and try to kill me. Nope.

That is all good fellows and sirs!

I’d love to hear if y’all share any of the same inabilities or if you have your own!

With the love and Peace of Christ,

-Brini Bri

“I say to myself, ‘the Lord is everything I will ever need. I will put my hope in him.’”-Lamentations 3:24

An out of control fountain spewing of Black Historical Facts [and how it has nothing to do with black history]

It’s halfway through February (it was half way through February when I started writing this) and every one knows what month February is……. Heart Disease Awareness Month!!!!!! And of course Black History Month. In my soon to be 22 years of life I can pretty much sum up what each BHM has been to me: A bunch of random facts about Black people writing stuff, inventing stuff, improving stuff, and starting stuff. As a child this was good because how else would I have known that a black man invented the stop light? But the older I got the more I realized that BHM was not just a time where I learned about great things black people did for this [American] country it was the only time I heard about the great things Black people did. It’s a good thing to have a month dedicated to honor my people, but it should not be an excuse for Black, or any other non-Whte group, history to be ignored the other 11 months of the year. I’m sure when Carter G. Woodson pushed for the idea of “Negro History Week” he wanted it to be a starting point for expansion, not a cap. And yes I am fully aware that Negro History Week has been expanded to FOUR whole weeks instead of one, but no matter how many months Black History gets honored we must never get caught up in the timeline.

So here’s a few ways we can avoid the fallacy of equating facts involving Black people with Black History:

1. Realize that these people were Americans

The things that our ancestors (and I say OUR because we all are drawn from the same family tree somewhere back in the line) did were

Look at them running and fighting the power at the same time!

beneficial to ALL Americans, not just black ones. I think learning about the pioneer who perfected the blood transfusion (Dr. Charles Drew) is just as important as learning about who signed the Declaration of Independence. Black children should not be the only ones taught about the great things these Black-Americans accomplished. White, Asian,and Hispanic kids should also learn about all the great things these Americans did.

2. Stop using February as the only time to talk about Black people doing stuff

Crispus Attucks is considered one of the first men to die for this country. I don’t think there is anything more patriotic than that and what I learned from living in this country is there isn’t a wrong time for patriotism. I never understood why the Martin Luther King story or Malcolm X the movie couldn’t be shown on MTV in the middle of September. I mean, Dr. King and Brother Malcolm both fought racism all year long. SO why do we only get the cute posters with their quotes broadcast on TV come February. DO we only talk about the Civil War or the American Revolution only in August? NO! We talk about those wars whenever we got doggone feel like talking them.

3. Stop treating February as an allowance for Blacks to proud of their heritage

I am very much aware of the allowance blacks are given in February. It’s basically the only time in the year we could walk around wearing Black Panther berets and an Africa necklace and not get questioned or have the police called on us. We can basically have as many  parades and TV programs in celebration of our rich heritage as we want in February but the second March hits it’s time to stick all the banners, confetti, and afro picks back in the closet until next year. As Americans, we are allowed to celebrate our “freedom and justice for all” any day we so choose to. As long as you’re waving an American flag well gosh darn it! you’re just being a good American, but any time you wave an African flag outside of February you’re considered being “too focused on race” or being “too militant.” If you are proud of your history and your race’s heritage then you should be able to celebrate it any month you so choose and not be constricted to one month.

4. Realize the celebration of Black History is for everyone

This one kinda goes back to point 1 but just because you’re not black doesn’t mean you can’t celebrate Black History [365 as Mickey D's puts it]. The fruits of those pioneers’ labor are not just enjoyed by blacks, they are enjoyed by citizens all across the globe. I’m not saying you HAVE to celebrate black history but don’t think because you’re not black that you can’t celebrate the accomplishments of these great people.

5. Acknowledge that Black History is happening every day

Black History is not just about stuff that people did way back when or about Black people doing big things [i.e. becoming President of the United States]. Black History, just like every other history we celebrate in this title-obseesed country, is about people doing extraordinary things in the present. Even if your extraordinary is just being the first in your family to get a college degree or starting a non-profit to help kids in need in your neighborhood. Extraordinary has no time constraint and can come in all shades of human. Black History at its core is just a celebration of ordinary people doing extraordinary things.

“Take up the whole armor of GOd, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.”-Ephesians 6:13

Letters to the Haters encrusted in Gold {My take on the Grammy’s}

As a 20-something with a smartphone, I of course was glued to both my TV and my Twitter feed for the 54th Annual Grammy Awards. There were fifty million things to comment on and talk about. So many things that complex words escaped me when I was trying to find a way to describe the night’s events. So the only scale of judgement I could come up with to describe stuff was: happy face, frowny face, and the noise”Meh”. “Meh” is basically indifference. So let’s begin with what a remember first and it’ll probably be a non-chronological account from then on cuz I can’t remember who went ahead of who.
The opening performance- Frowny face. Just didn’t do it for me and I didn’t really know what was going on.
LL Cool J opening up with a prayer for Whitney- Happy face. I think it was extra classy and a perfect way to set the tone for the night.
Alicia Keys’ and Bonnie Rait’s tribute to Etta James- Meh. I was kinda just like “ohhh well that’s nice I suppose….what’s next?”
The video of Whitney performing at the Grammy’s- Frowny face. Because it made me sad about Whitney’s death all over again and made me want to cry, but it was very touching.
The Civil Wars-Happy Face. I have no idea who these people are but when they opened their mouths to sing, beautiful things came out.
Seeing Nicki Minaj sitting in the audience- Frowny face because I had no idea why she looked like a hooded Cardinal from Rome. As soon as I saw her in her cape I knew that bad things were going to happen later on. No one believed me but I knew it.
Taylor Swift’s performance- Meh. Wasn’t quite sure where she was going with the performance but then again she’s not of particular interest to me so I never quite understand where she;s headed.
Jennifer Hudson’s “I Will Always Love You”-Happy face solely because she knew to not try the epic “Annnnnnnd Iiiiiiiiii” part and quit it early and left the song where it was. Plus, she had all of 12 hours of preparation.
Stevie Wonder’s random appearance- Extremely happy face because I adore him and I think he’s a genius and I have all his albums on my iPod, iPhone, and my iPad. I don’t care what people say about his hair, I will sit and watch him/listen to him whenever I get the chance. When I was 18 I stood in the pouring rain for two hours watching him perform at Jazz Fest. I enjoyed every moment of it and walked to my house soaked to my socks but ridiculously satisfied.
Lady Gaga in her seat- Happy face because she wasn’t on the stage making a mockery of herself. Plus she didn’t look like a man, or the anti-Christ, or a bird, or an egg or anything. She looked normal by fashion standards and I was glad.

"Oh look at the manifestation of all my talent"

Adele now having the ability to melt down all her Grammy’s and mold them into “Thank You” notes to mail to all her haters- Happy Face. I’ve been a big Adele fan ever since I first heard Chasing Pavement and bought her 19 album. That’s my favorite album but 21 was obnoxious amounts of goodness also.

The Beach Boys Tribute- Frowny Face. Just couldn’t get into the performance.
The Beach Boys themselves performing- Happy face because paw paw and ‘em were singing their hearts out and getting it and running circles around all these nonsense-performing young folks.
Rihanna’s Performance with Coldplay- Frowny Face. I love Coldplay and I love the song “Princess of China” but the vocals for their sets were not on point. Chris’ voice sounded weird and shaky and Rihanna, well, the child just can’t sing.
Chris Brown’s first performance- Meh. It was alright. Kinda zoned out and didn’t understand where the dudes in squirrel suits came in to paly at.
Chris Brown’s “tribute to dance” with David Guetta and Lil Wayne-Frowny face. That just didn’t make sense and I got distracted by my timeline because it wasn’t engaging at all. Plus Lil Wayne was wearing pj’s [or some other coon wear] on national television.
Deadmau5- Happy face. I just liked the blinky eyes on the mouse head. It was kinda creepy on the slick too…..
Nicki Minaj’s performance- Frowny face. Besides all the religion disrespect it was just generally stupid. It was sporadic and all over the place and there were thirty trillion things going on. It was in extremely poor taste. She made a mockery of herself and of Cash Money and of humanity…..Coonery isn’t the word to describe what happened on that stage. One of the greatest voices of all music died the day before and that basic “artist” [I use the term very loosely] got up there and did that nonsense.
Sir Paul- Happy face. He played “Golden Slumbers” which is one of my favorite Beatles’ songs and He was jamming. He did an extremely good job.
That target commercial with the hot air balloon and the dancers and the non-English song- Happy face because it was super fun looking.

Rhinestone Cowboy- Happy Face. They played that song on Daddy Daycare and I love that movie Plus it’s quite the catchy tune.

Well that’s about it my dears! I’d love to hear your snippets about your Grammy viewing experience!!!

“Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young”-1Timothy 4:12

The Story of David [not the one with Goliath, the other one]

As an “official in my own mind but not publicly acknowledged” blogger I am always looking for different types of inspiration and different ways to expand the topics I talk about and the blog as a whole. So I’ve found a new mode of getting things out to the blogsophere: through the Word. I know, I know “OMG! She’s turned into one of those Jesus freaks who only talks about Jesus and is not funny and is gonna beat me over the head with the Bible” No need to fear, the same MsBriBap is here. I’m just expanding the things I’m talking about to more than just stuff I encounter in college life, I also want to talk about stuff I encounter in the early hours of the morning when I’m spending time with God and reading my devotionals.

Cool if I do that? MMk good, cuz I’m doing it anyway. CATCH ME NOW COPPERS!!!!! [sorry, spastic moment]

.....once again it's NOT this story.

So for this post I want to talk about my favorite Bible Character, besides Jesus of course, David the King. Everyone knows the story of David and Goliath…if you don’t, Google it. I want to talk about a different story that, unless you’re purposely reading the book of 1 Samuel, you wouldn’t really know too much about. The story is found in 1 Samuel 30, and it basically talks about how David and his men had just returned to Ziklag, which is where all their stuff and families were, from living with the Philistines for a period of time. When they got to Ziklag they found nothing there, because the Amalekites had captured all their families and burned the place to the ground. Now as you could assume, this was extremely discouraging to everyone involved. In their anger and confusion, David’s men turned on him and even talked about killing him. My favorite part of this story is David’s reaction. 1 Samuel 30:6 says “David was greatly troubled. His men were even talking about killing him by throwing stones at him. All of them were very bitter because their sons and daughters had been taken away. But David was made strong by the Lord his God.” Even in the face of extreme adversity David sought God first. And once God spoke to him, he listened and was able to catch up the lames who stole all their families, defeated them, and got their people and ‘em back.

I think this story is super applicable because we are ALL busy. I mean on any given day, I have thirty million things being asked of me and sometimes we get pushed into corners because deadlines are approaching, and people are vying for our attention and asking us what we’re going to do about it. It’s in our nature to just want to shut all the people up and just do what they ask, make them happy, make them go away, move on to the next chore, but sometimes what other people want us to do is not what God has purposed us to do. There are certain days that “running around like a chicken with my head cut off” can not even begin to describe how I am moving but I, nor can you, let your deadlines and tasks at hand to define you. That’s why i think it’s vital for us to stop and ask God if we are taking the right path as opposed to just living to please people and make deadlines.  We aren’t facing the threat of being stoned or murdered by our friends [at least most of us aren't], but sometimes the pressure seems just as intense as what David was going through.  But if you seek Him, he will strengthen you to face all those who are nagging you and fussing at you and you will find a peace that no met deadline or checked off to-do list can give you.

So my beloved and devoted readers, is there any thing that you struggle with as far as deadlines or busyness? I’d love to hear your stories. And could you relate to position that David was in?

With all kinds of love,

- Briizy-B

Disclose, Expose or Make Sure No One Knows?

What inspired this post was all the stuff we, as humans, do either in reality or in our heads that we hope no one sees or knows about. But not weird, shiesty illegal stuff. I’m just talking about every day small stuff we do.

One of the essential factors of being a socially functional human being is knowing what you should and should not tell to others so that they don’t look at you like you’re wearing a Justin Bieber mask in a pink tutu. Everyone knows there are certain things that everyone does but never shares with other people. For example, littering. Every one has the occasional minor piece of garbage that we discreetly discard because we’re either lazy, a chronic litterer, or too far away from the garbage can, but no one tells people about their littering practices. It’s just not something you share, no one needs to know and mostly they don’t care. Also, there are a few things that are just creepy….

Here’s a list of a few things I know FOR A FACT (ok well 90% sure) every one does but doesn’t share with others:

FaceBook/Twitter Stalk

I don’t believe that these websites were created for anything besides creeping. I’m sorry. You give people a blank canvas and tell them to talk about themselves….they’re going to tell you everything. It’s just human nature. There are varying degrees of what people share via the internet, some are much more open than others, but there is still basic facts that everyone shares like city of residence, school of attendance, who you hang with, etc. SO with all that information floating around about people and the ease of access to that information, I mean who can help themselves? Now I’m old enough to remember life before the internet was on and popping, and if someone said “Facebook” you’d just give them the side eye. The only way you found out stuff about somebody is if you asked them, asked their people, or hired a private eye. But Facebook gives you access to what someone likes, what they like to do, and if you dig far enough in their photos you can see what they used  to like, what the used to do, and who they used to hang out with. You can find almost anything you need to know about most people.

With all that being said….

You shouldn’t go around telling people all that you know about them because you spent an hour the previous night FB/Twitter stalking them. They will think you’re either creepy, crazy, or thirsty. Although it’s virtual staking, it still has the same level of stigma and creepiness associated with it as real, hiding in the bushes, snatching your people up stalking . Don’t believe me, go ahead, tell someone that you twitter/facebook twitter stalked them. See what happens.

Become Celebrities In The Car/Shower/Or Other Private Space

When we’re alone we all think we’re Beyonce/Usher. I know you’re trying to play it cool and act like you didn’t watch the “Single Ladies” or “U Don’t Have to Call” video thirty million times like I have but don’t act like when you’re in your house all alone and your favorite song comes on your iPod shuffle you don’t hop up and transform into the next ABDC (America’s Best Dance Crew) leader.

No one else does this? Oh okay then. *side eye*

What about when you’re in the car and that song that has been stuck in your head for the past five hours comes on and you’re at the stop light ? You don’t crank the volume ALL THE WAY UP and scream until your lungs can no longer fuel your song-filled passion any longer? And what about when you walk pass a bunch of reflective surfaces, like a huge mirror, and no one else is around. Can you really fight the urge to check yourself out and act like there’s paparazzi following you? Heck, I can’t!

Whenever I’m alone and the possibility to jam arises, I take it…..and I’m sure you secretly do too.

Fantasize About Life with Super Powers

So this very well could be just me, but I have always wished I had a super power. One of my fave franchises is the X-Men and one of my favorite powers was ShadowCat’s ability to walk through solid objects. If I had to pick a superpower it would probably be a combination of Prue’s powers from Charmed and Professor X’s powers. If you didn’t watch Charmed, which I’ve seen every season at least 7 different times, Prue Haliwell was the oldest, and most powerful, sister until she was unfortunately killed [i.e. the actor's contract was up]. She could move things with her mind, project herself into two people, and eventually she could move stuff with her hands. I think that’s pretty awesome. Then of course you have Professor X who can hop on in to people’s minds, control their actions, read their minds, and sense other mutants. The combination of those sets of powers would make me the most awesomest person ever, except for the whole metal helmet that Magneto wears to keep Professor X out of his mind, that would be an issue. But then again if I could just move the hat off his head with my mind the entire problem would be solved……wait what was I talking about???

Oh yeah. Other people’s powers…

With all the comics, fantasy novels, and franchises built on the premise of people with superhuman powers I know I can’t be the only one who has imagined themselves with super powers….I’m just saying.

Cry When Mufasa Dies in the Lion King

Ok, so this one may not really be a secret for a lot of people, it certainly isn’t for me, but still Mufasa’s death was one of the most heart-wrenching, mortifying, and mind-boggling murders that was every created. I know it’s a cartoon but still the treachery, the deceit, the lies…..OH THE INJUSTICE!!!! Every single time I watch that movie, I cry when Mufasa dies. Went saw it in 3D with my mom last year, and at 21 years of age I bawled when Mufasa died. I actually started tearing up when Zazu went to go tell Scar and Mufasa about Simba being in danger because I knew what was coming. I KNOW I’m not the only on who is touched by the Murder of Mufasa the Lion.

Well folks, that’s all I can think of! You know of some other things that everyone does but tells no one about? I’d love to hear it.

Also, here’s some music to get ya going!

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own”-Matthew 6:34

“Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?”-Matthew 6:27

A Bucket of Irrational Fears [A Few Rational Conclusions I Jump to Irrationally]

After calling my mom for a half hour with no reply so instead of thinking she might be just be busy or not near her phone, I begin to assume something horrible had happened. My mind went from “Oh mane she didn’t hear her phone ring” to ” oh dear God, why’d you take my mother from me” in all of ten seconds. About an hour into my tizzy I started calling family members to join int he panic. My cousin [who's like my older sister] and I devised a plan that if my mom didn’t call me back in the next half hour she was going to go to the house and check to make sure nothing shady had went down.  Fifteens minutes into our half hour countdown, still no call back from my mom. So now I’m in hyper-panic mode. My cousin called me back and decided to go to the house immediately to go make sure the house hadn’t been ransacked by vagabonds or marauded by ne’erdoers. As soon as my cousin entered the house, prepared for the worst, my phone rang and it was my mom…two hours after I first tried to call her.

Her first words?

“Brianne, why did you call me 24 times?”

Oh I don’t know mom maybe it’s because I thought you were dead or injured or in a hospital in Tibet or something??!! Now, of course, I was super relieved that she hadn’t been killed or murdered or passed out  or taken by rogue werewolves. But this little scenario made me wonder why I got so worked up. The fear that someone I love has been injured is pretty rational to me, but because the person didn’t pick up the phone quick enough doesn’t automatically mean they’re dead in a ditch somewhere. There’s always the possibility though.

A fear is usually considered irrational when others can’t find  any reason why you have that fear. Example: My best friend has a fear of giant squids. Yes, the big octopus looking things that rest on the ocean floor. Every time she shares her fear of these sea floor-dwelling creatures with others, they give her a look of confusion and utter befuddlement. Yes, befuddlement. Why?  Because most people see no reason why she would have a fear of something that she has no chance in Hades of ever coming across in her lifetime. SO most would consider it an irrational fear. BUT, it would be a very rational fear if she was some type of deep sea diver who could be killed by the sea-dwelling beast and its giant tentacles.

In one of my recent posts, I mentioned my fear of people wearing masks. I feel that [the fear of people wearing masks] is a pretty rational fear, I mean Jason wore a mask and what did he do? Slaughter people. Know who else wore a mask? The killer in the Scream movies.So yes, a fear of people wearing masks is pretty rational because there is a chance that if someone wanted to murder me in my sleep, they’d be wearing some creepy, emotionless mask.

Any normal person has fears and worries about things in the world. Here are a few fears of mine that I have or used to have that might be a smidge irrational:

A person has been killed or horribly wounded because they don’t answer their phone or call me back within a timely manner

[See situation above.]

If I get trapped in an elevator I’m going to die there

I know they have the fancy ‘call for help’ buttons in elevators and the big red fire department button so that the firefighters can come and rescue you like elevator-opening, life-saving ninjas. Still, I hate elevators. I mean they’re giant metal boxes that if they malfunction can send you plummeting to your iron clad death. [Ok I know you have to be like 20 floors up for an elevator crash to kill you but it's perilous nonetheless.] It stems from being trapped in an elevator when I was about 4. I was at the W.I.C. office with my mom and we got on the elevator with like seven other people. Halfway down, the thing stopped. Just stopped in mid-movement. I looked at my mom and then looked at all the other people and stood there wondering if we would ever see the light of day again. Do you know how traumatizing that is to a four-year old? Very! I have no idea how long it was until we were freed from the mechanical prison, but eventually the thing started moving and you know, we got out. The older I’ve gotten, the better I’ve gotten with elevators but every time I step into one I’m always conscious of how fast it’s going and if it seems to be flowing smoothly because you never know about those things, you just never know…..

If I’m not under the covers, intruders would be able to see me and take me hostage

Okay, this one is more of a thing I’ve had since childhood.

I guess I watched too many crime shows where people’s houses got broken into at night and then the burglar saw them sleeping and killed them or took them for ransom. For some reason, I always thought that if I buried myself under the covers and didn’t move an intruder [or my mom if I was in trouble] would not be able to see me and would continue to raid the house and I would be able to plot my escape. Actually this one is pretty stupid because of course anyone can see you laying in bed even if you’re hiding under the covers…that made no sense, forget I mentioned it.

If I’m ever lost in the woods, rabid, flesh-hungry wolves will hunt me down 

Don't Look Like They're Thirsty for human flesh?

I’m all for camping and retreats and bonding with nature but within good reason. I’ve been out in the woods where the only way my cell phone will get a signal is I fashioned myself a make-shift antenna out of a wire hanger, some paper clips and bubble gum and then climbed to the top of a tree and made a call from the highest brach on the tree. But I’ve always stayed close to the camp, and if we did go off the trail I looked back every three seconds to make sure I could see where the trail was. I really don’t want to be lost in the woods because I’m convinced that every forest houses vicious woodland creatures. No animal is to be trusted, not even the squirrels. I’m sure they are all just waiting for me to trip, break my ankle, and become incapacitated so they can have dinner for the next couple of weeks.

I always picture the wolves coming after me first and I’d freak out and pass out like a punk. Then I’d just be wolf food and I’d be remembered fondly by my loved ones as the one who had such great potential but got attacked by that pack of wild wolves.

Well folks, that’s all I got for my irrational fears but what about you my beloved intellectual readers? Any fears, rational or irrational, that you’d like to share?

Peace and love,

-Bri

“Do not be afraid, you who are highly esteemed,”he said. “Peace! Be strong now; be strong.” When he spoke to me, I was strengthened and said,”Speak, my lord, since you have given me strength.”-Daniel 10:19 

Skeletons in the closet [why I never talk about Hurricane Katrina]

As you all know I’m from New Orleans.

For about four years after the storm telling people that I was from New Orleans was always followed by some variation of the question, “Well how did you fair in the storm?” The storm of course being Hurricane Katrina, a big ol’ storm that basically raped the Gulf Coast and braised the New Orleans levees just enough to make them all fall to pieces and be of no use. I never got offended by the question, and never will, because I feel it is a justified inquiry and usually people are asking from a good place. I had gotten so used to telling the story at one point that I could tell it with minimal amounts of emotion and could effectively “cliffnote” it enough where the story only lasted about five to ten minutes.  Unless I was around fellow New Orleans folk, who all had their own Katrina stories, or was directly asked about it I didn’t talk about the storm.

I wasn’t ashamed of the story I just hated the “pity factor” that usually followed the announcement of being from New Orleans and the telling of the story. Even though I know it wasn’t intentional, for about two years after the storm, non Katrina-ites [that's a good term for those who didn't suffer from the storm] would treat me just a smidge different. They would do small things like be nicer to me, avoid any discussion involving my life prior to the storm, and search my face for emotional responses when someone else brought up the topic of the storm. I always noticed little things like that after the storm, but then again I could have made some of them up because I was self conscious of it and was projecting.

I’m still a bit cautious of telling my Katrina story because frankly it’s a mood killer.

As intriguing as you may think the story is I promise you the happy, joyous mood you may have prior to the story-telling gets shot straight to heck by the time the story is finished. I’m sure that’s the effect most Katrina survivors’ stories have on the general mood of any social gathering unless it’s a a venue specifically for deep story telling. Not saying good stuff didn’t happen among the crazy whirlwind of the recovery period but the good usually gets drowned out by the extreme difficulty of whatever else one went through. My story involves weathering a storm, being trapped in a city for four days, canoeing away from most of the things I owned, staying overnight in the Astro Dome, getting to spend a crap load of time with my family, growing super close to my toddler cousin, living in Baton Rouge for two months, living in a house with no heat or electricity for a month, watching the 6 am news religiously, and a lot of bags of Ranch Sunflower Seeds. If you want the in-between details just ask me I’ll tell you.

I guess the biggest effect of Katrina for me was the giant mental timeline it created in the lives of all those who suffered her wrath. Once the storm, hit every life experience one had prior to August 29,2005 became a before the storm thing. When people mentioned any event they specified if it happened before the storm or after. Life before the storm became this glorified, fantasy land that one only visited in their dreams. I had many a dream about my life before the storm only to wake up and be in post-Katrina living. Life for me after the storm wasn’t bad it was just different. In a span of three weeks I went from being a 15-year old sophomore at Dominican High School who lived in a shot gun double in Middle New Orleans to a 15-year old sophomore at a school in baton rouge who lived in a hotel and rode to school in a rental car because our car was flooded in the storm. Everything was just drastically different. I guess that’s what happens whenever  any major, sudden change occurs in one’s life. That change could be anything, from the death of a close friend or family member, loss of a job, etc, it always causes this giant marker in our lives that separates our experiences into pre- and post- mental accounts.

I’m not going to lie there are a few things I still miss from my life before the storm like my first dog, Tia, or my aunt and uncle who we used to go by for Christmas living ten minutes from my house [they had to relocate to Texas after the Hurricane], or the building which used to be my middle school [it got torn down after mold took over the infrastructure]. But God brought me through the storm and I have so many things to be grateful for now. There were so many great things that happened to me and my mom because of the storm [government money allowed us to pay off a lot of debt] and I wouldn’t trade my post-Katrina life [my current life] for anything in the world. I’ve gotten to the point where it’s no longer only my post-katrina life, it’s just life now.

What brought on this blog is that I used some of my  Katrina story in my personal statement for my grad school applications. For once, I volunteered to tell some of my story for a purpose other than just telling the story for story telling sake.

Well I guess I’m done ranting about my story, but fellow readers I would love your comments. Especially my readers who were affected by the storm, comment away!

Love, the kewl_briize!!

“In everything give thanks  for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you”- 1 Thessalonians 5:18

The Guy Fawkes Mask Creeps Me Out {How I haven’t been a very good Occupy Wall Street supporter}

A very good friend of mine, whom I consider a brother, loves the movie “V for Vendetta.”  He might very well think it is one of the greatest movies ever. One random day a while ago I decided to finally watch the movie with him, and after sitting through the majority of the  movie-after discovering plots and sub-plots and main themes-what I took from the movie was how creepy the mask that the hero, V, wore (I’m pretty sure I have mild maskaphobia-yep that’s a real word-because not being able to see/read people’s face has always bothered me). But seriously that mask creeps the living daylights out of me. I saw a girl on campus wearing it a week ago and I bugged out for a second, sped up the pace of my walk, and averted any type of eye contact with the wearer of the mask because she might see the slight fear in my eyes and capitalize on it and then all of USM would see me fleeing and screaming about because creepy mask girl stared at me for too long [yes I know I'm lame].

How creepy is this?

If you’ve never seen the movie you should because it is a good piece of cinema. V for Vendetta is about fighting the man and rising up against the oppressive system[government] that seeks to hide us from the truth in order to cover their various acts of deceit and ne’erdoism.

Here’s a snippet of it:

You can Wikipedia it if you want the full synopsis.

Well with the movie being about fighting the man and whatnot it is no surprise that the Guy Fawkes mask has popped up in various places in the Occupy Wall Street Movement. It was on the cover of Bloomberg Businessweek  [I'm sure you know how I felt when I opened my mailbox and pulled out a giant picture of the Guy Fawkes mask].

If you’ve been keeping  up with current events you know the latest ”movement” sweeping the nation is Occupy {fill in state, city, or street name here}. The biggest and most organized center of the movement is where it all started, Wall Street. I’m not quite sure what all the specific details of the protests are, but I think the general point is how unfair it is that the top 1% of the people in nation has all the wealth while the other 99 is struggling just to make it. That’s the best guess I have, and the reason why I am so poorly informed is because I’m not that deeply interested in the protest.

I know, I know.

I’m a college student.

I’m middle class.

I’m educated.

I should be completely invested in this movement and I should probably have every update about the demands of the protest on hand so that any one with a question can come to me and find a well of overflowing Occupy Wall Street knowledge.

…….Yet I’m still just not that into it.

I’m pretty sure the main reason why I’m out of it is because I’m not directly affected by the things the protesters are complaining about. I  didn’t have to pay for school because my school gave me an academic scholarship. My mom paid any long term debt off with the money we got from the government for Katrina so we’re basically a debt-free family. I am still a senior in school with intent to go to grad school next fall, hopefully also for free, but I have no particular gripes with the banks or the upper echelon as of now.

Another reason is because I just don’t care…about anything at the current moment. Senioritis has not only set in, it has built a 1200-sq. ft vacation spot and started receiving mail inside my brain. So my motivation to do anything from school work, to social gatherings, to football games, to getting out of bed in the morning is at absolute zero. I mean there is NONE. I have to pray just to get the ‘umph’ to step out of my bed in the morning. I just kinda wanna just sleep all day. All day, every day until graduation. That would be pleasant.

Wait, I just realized that I just described a person with chronic depression…but I’m not depressed, I promise! Or at least I don’t think I am. What if Senioritis is a form of depression? Then that means me and all my friends are suffering from severe depression that may only be cured by receipt of a degree. Just kidding, I’m not depressed. Besides I couldn’t sleep until graduation because then I would miss class and fail my mandatory capstone courses and not get my degree and I refuse to stay here another year so I’d probably just drop out and take up basket weaving or street tap dancing like my people back in the NOLA like to do it…hmm so many options.

I could probably be good at that, right?

Ok back to what I was talking about, I can’t muster up the energy or motivation to do anything besides go to church and read my bible. So keeping up with the Occupy Movement just is not on my mind but I do acknowledge the fact that it should be.

The last reason is that when I do get un-lazy enough to read about the Occupy movement it seems so disorganized. I know there are several different protests across the world so you never know which one you’re going to read about. Plus, a few have turned violent. I know the one in California, Occupy Oakland, got out of control and some kinda way a fight with police broke out and someone got shot. Someone committed suicide at Occupy Burlington, Vermont [I wonder if this is where the coat factory was founded???] and someone died in a tent at Occupy New Orleans [really New Orleans, a tent? Someone actually took the time to occupy New Orleans and then died....in a tent. WE HAVE GOT TO DO BETTER]. I know every protest has its casualties but the whole story is hard to follow because there are so many different things going on.

Random: Why are there always hostile protests in California? I mean there were the LA Riots, now folks getting shot occupying Oakland. What happens in that state that makes people go ham? I mean there are a lot of shootings in New Orleans but those have everything to do with drug wars, gangs, and Saints football and nothing to do with riots. I honestly don’t think we could sustain a satisfactory protest because once night falls or a Saints game comes on we’d just leave or go get a beer or go by Ray-Ray and ‘em and play cards. By the time the sun rose the next day….no more protest and people probably don’t remember what we were protesting anyway. BUT we in NOLA can hold a good march, yep we are some successful march hosting fools, probably because it’s kinda like a parade without the floats or the marching bands. So if you ever need people to march, call us!

Anyway my beloved readers and roamers of the blogosphere, are you tuned into the Occupy Movement. If so, HOW do you feel about it, and if not, why not?

EDIT 11/16/11: Here’s a link if you want to learn a bit more of the point of the Occupy movement

http://gu.com/p/33dg5

“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus”-1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

My Relative Black Card & The Principle of Ethnic Relations

I’m Black.

African American if you’re feeling extra PC today.

One of my fellow bloggers wrote a post a few months ago about Race and the Black Card and her possession/lack thereof and of course it got me to thinking. [You should definitely click on the link and read because it is a great piece of chewy, bloggy, intellectual goodness; I have no idea why I described it as chewy but I'm leaving it there] BUT if you don’t get the chance to read it, the synopsis is: she’s a black woman who has had her black card perpetually taken from her by other “more black” blacks and she’s tired of the stupid theory of the “black card” and she’s demanding it back.

For those of you who don’t know anything about a Black Card, its basically a social entitlement that black people bestow on other blacks and non-blacks. It’s comparable to the status of ‘being cool’ and can be revoked anytime someone feels it necessary to do so. It’s not a real card, well there is an American Express Black Card but I’m not talking about that. It’s supposed to be a measurement of how “black” an African-American is.

I completely understand her plight because I, and most of my long time friends, have been remiss of a black card for the majority of my life.  Do I think the idea of the ‘Black card’ is dumb? Of course. Why? Because it serves no real purpose and its only used to shove even more divides between people (particularly black people) for reasons that were made up by some group of people who weren’t that valuable and  basically had to create a way for them to be cooler or realer than others. It’s also referred to in some circles as a Ghetto pass.

I gave up on being a permanent cardholder of my Black Card because I just couldn’t win for losing regarding my ‘blackness’. In order for one to usually maintain possession of their black card one has to do things that are stereotypically deemed as “black behavior,” and if one did something contrary to those stereotypes it may be revoked by someone who has held truer to the aforementioned black actions. Now, any one with any sort of good common sense knows there is no specific actions or qualifications for being a member of a race. Meaning there are no particular actions one can take to become a member of a race. In America, if you’re born a certain race you are, from birth, inherently that race until you die. With that being said, any citizen of America could list off the behaviors that are considered to be ‘black’, and of course they are usually bad or connected with the lifestyle of the hood rat. The list sounds something like this, a real black person: talks loud, sounds ignorant, mispronounces their words, doesn’t read, does poorly in school, listens only to misogynistic rap music, is extremely aggressive/violent, knows how to fight, and is willing to fight at a drop of the hat.

Basically, the list describes an angry slave or, for those of you who are visually motivated, this guy:

Hide ya Kids, hide ya wife, ignorance is a'coming

I attended predominantly black schools from Pre-K through eighth grade. For the last four or five of those years, my peers labeled me as an Oreo [Black on the outside, white on the inside] because I read all the time, pronounced the ends of my words properly, sought to excel in school, and didn’t listen to rap music ALL the time. Now I’m not saying whenever I walked into a room someone yelled “OREO!!’” across the classroom, it’s just that when i got into arguments with people my propensity for things that was not deemed ‘black enough’ was one of the first things someone pointed out [well that and the darkness of my skin tone, but that's another tangent for another day].  I was, and truthfully still am, a nerd and early in life I made the decision that if earning a Black Card meant being all those bad things than I was just gonna be a Black Card lacking somebody and that was fine…

….until I got to ninth grade where I switched to a predominantly white high school. All of sudden, I had a black card. Not only did I have a black card, got doggit I was a privileged member of the Black Card Society and I can say it was only because I was in an environment where over 90% of the people were white. So basically just because I was visibly black I was a black card owner, or at least that’s how the non-blacks saw it. To them I was down, and “with it” and hip and it was all because my skin color said so, but to the other, more ethnic blacks I was still the same Oreo that I had been prior to attending that school. At the end of the day, to one population I was black and to the other I was an Oreo. I looked the same, talked the same, and acted the same around both populations but was perceived in two very different ways.

What this contrast showed me was that it’s all relative. Levels of Blackness, just like most other social certifications, are completely determined by comparison. For example, I’m from New Orleans and if you know anyone from there you know we have a certain militant-ness about us that makes a seem a bit more wild or, for lack of a better word, hood  than others in the surrounding area and it’s mostly inherent to where we’re from. So if you take me from New Orleans and some other black person from say Fresno, California and place us side-by-side, I’ll probably be deemed the ‘more black’ of the two. But if you place me next to someone from say the hood of Philadelphia, the other person would probably be deemed more deserving of the black card.

Who is worthy/unworthy of the Black Card is a completely arbitrary and useless assessment, but I find it amazing that by comparison I could be deemed more or less black. Guess I figure why do we need such a measurement when all it does is draw us as a people, and as a human race , farther apart. I’m not gonna lie I have been a pointer of fingers on who was or was not black when I wasn’t the one on the chopping  block, but the older, and more educated, I’ve gotten the less I’ve involved myself in such futile and juvenile arguments. It’s a hard discussion to avoid because in the black race its such a prevalent theme and to avoid such assessments/judgement of others takes a concerted effort. I’m not here to reprimand anyone who has a ‘Black Card’ or who believes they know what black truly is, just shedding a little light on a pondering of mine. I know the theory of the Black Card will probably never go away, but I do wish that it would one day become affiliated with positive attributes such as a dedication to scholarship and academics, or the strength it takes to persevere in a nation where there are several political and social factors pushing against you. If those were the qualities that were deemed necessary to have a Black Card then I would be first in line to claim possession of this social pot of gold.

So my monacle-possessing and tea-sipping readers, what’s your thoughts on the Black Card and the arbitrary-ness of it all?

Peace and Love and Intelligence Abounding,

Bri

“For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light (for the fruit of light consists in all goodness, righteousness, and truth) and find out what pleases the Lord.”- Ephesians 5:8-10

My Mayweather friend

I’m gonna go ahead and throw it out there that this post has no type of educational value nor is there any advice encased in the lines of this post. It’s a complete rant so if you were looking for your usual nugget of helpfulness, well err this may not be the post for you but feel free to ‘stay calm and read on’.

So yesterday I went to a fight party. I’ve never been a big fan of boxing/any organized fighting because it has a Roman Gladiatior-Coliseum type of feel to me. I hate watching people be marred that’s why I can’t sit through the Saw movies, too much gore. But last night a relative of a friend of mine ordered the fight on Pay Per View and cooked some food and invited us over. Free food and friends? Why of course I’m there! So me and a few other friends kicked it at the fight party, eating finger sandwiches and Cheetos, a good time to be had by all. Since I was a noob [yep I just used the word noob] to Boxing-watching, I had no idea that there were like three fights that happened BEFORE the real fight which is why the big one is called The Main Event. We got there late but we were able to catch the two fights before the big one and I must say they were kinda sucky. Well the Undercard right before the main evet was sucky because both of the dudes kinda just ran around and were on defense the whole time but the fight before THAT fight was super gory and both the dudes had lacerated eyes and disfigured faces by the end of the match. There was blood EVERYWHERE. I thought I was watching a MMA fight at one point because of all the open wounds and blood. Still it was a fairly entertaining series of fights, but nothing tops the Main Event, Mayweather v. Ortiz.

I was rooting for Floyd basically because everybody else was and I had heard about how good he was prior to the fight, but mostly because if I wasn’t Team Mayweather I’m sure my guy friends I was watching the fight with would have had me tarred and feathered. It was a good first three rounds, both fighters were playing pretty well but Mayweather was winning so everyone thought it was gonna be a pretty entertaining and lively twelve rounds. Then in about round four this happened:

The fight was over. And we were all just like “whaaaaaaaaaaaaa?”. Mayweather won. That was all. Well so I thought until people in the audience of the fight started booing and the commentators got all touchy about Mayweather punching the dude with his hands down. Thing is, Ortiz not having his hands up and trying to hug Floyd IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FIGHT because he felt bad about illegally headbutting Floyd was not Mayweather’s problem, it was Ortiz. I know he felt bad for busting Mayweather’s lip but he could’ve apologized after the fight not right after the referee had just said ‘time back in”. I personally felt the punch was fair and Floyd deserved the belt because he was going to win it anyway. I honestly think Floyd just saw an opening to punch the dude for headbutting him and took it.
But readers who saw the fight, and even those who didn’t, how do you feel about the controversial Mayweather victory?

“I gain understanding from your precepts; therefore I hate every wrong path”-Psalms 119:104