Creole Wisdom

I am through.

There are times in which I feel our country has healed, moved on, and closed its past.  Then I open my newspaper, or in this case- read a friend's blog.

We still have so much work to do.

I am overwhelmed by it.  I refuse to be an "educator" on all matters race because a) I am not the expert and b) go out and find information yourself, it is not my "job."

Yet I do what I can. I live my life in ways to make sure I do not exemplify stereotypes about black women: all on welfare, broke, 4 kids with different dads, over weight, loud, stupid... 

When I read about the tragic murder of Omar Edwards I was outraged. Then saddened, then outraged again.

Here is a good man.  A husband, father, provider, and also an off-duty police man. Murdered by another police officer.

What is going on with the power trip of [some] cops in our country?

This speaks to what is going on in Harlem, the gentrification, which makes me ill.  I do not believe in gentrification, and I find it so ironic that my people have been hoarded into awful neighborhoods just to live there a few generations, fix it up, and have it taken away-

I get it.  Harlem is great, it's cool, and who wouldn't want to live there? But it's historically important, and needs to be preserved, saved, and kept from those who want to turn it into the next Upper West Side.

I'm not saying only black people should live there.  What I'm saying is that black independent businesses should stay over gigantic chains.  Street vendors should stay over KFC and Sketchers.  People should be able to keep their houses instead of WASPS coming up from downtown looking for a fly brownstone at a cheap price. 

What a mess.

fml

So here's my list, graduation is May 17th.  I am really wondering if I am going to make it.  I'm graduating with a BA in gossiping Communications and minor (pending prayers. another post I tell ya) in History. 

Academic Pre-Grad:
•Hand in German History research paper (11 pages!)
•Prepare Nonverbal Group presentation (don't get me started! But I will sum it up for you in one sentence: foreign student who hardly knows English and doesn't want to pull her weight. oy vey!)
•Correct Nonverbal Group paper  (We are on about draft 5, see frustration above)
•Take Nonverbal test
•Take Interviewing final
•Take Holocaust final (organizing a fun study group!)
•Take German oral final (from the instructor grad student who thinks I am a dumb Greek.  And this dear readers, is why you shouldn't wear your letters until after the first graded assignment)
•Order cap & gown
•Pick up graduation tickets : )

Personal Pre-Grad:
•Buy Courtney's bed (so exciting.  I am getting a great deal!)
•Transport bed, chair, lamp, rug, nightstand to new apt (lease starts Sept, but I can use the storage room. yes!)
•Move out of AOII : (
•Send graduation party invites out
•Double check time off at work for PA & DC trip : )
•Sell desk to Katie (schools. out. forever.)
•Pick grad dress and iron gown
•Smile

But... but... but... I just want to go out with my sorority sisters and get happy hour with J and spend my whole weekend working at Melly and watch tons of movies in the basement.  Sorry to disappoint the parents, but I don't think I'm ever going to do this (school) again.  But I will take the gre : )

Can you get a masters degree is home economics with a focus in planning parties?

come on minnesota!

Today is April first.  April fools.  Whatever.  And I am sitting here at my desk looking out the window and what do I see? Snow.  Giant, fluffy, peacefully whirling flakes set across the backdrop of a collegiate urban landscape that is too tired and old.  What is so sad is that with the first snow fall I am happy.  I get excited and in the holiday mood (I start listening to Christmas music in October).  I don't mind snow in November, December, or even in March.

The blizzard of 2007 which canceled school.

But now it is too much to bear.  I realize that I have no control over the weather, and that this is probably the last of it.  But I'm still complaining, and I would like to note that this makes getting ready for class confusing.  What should I wear on my feet?  Rain boots or Sorels?  Because at least spring in MN will give you wet, rain-like snow that is still snow-

it's time.

Remember this post?  It's time to talk about it.

so goes.

I was feeling very stressed out about my loans, and how much I'm going to have to pay once I graduate, and how scared I am.  Then I watched this youtube video and couldn't stop laughing. 

broken.

Two not so funny things in the span of two days. 
Yesterday:
•Went joyfully to go set up my new Epson printer.  I was so happy, so excited, singing to myself alongside the radio... then during step 2 of set up "error, turn off printer. then re-start" I did.  5 times. Then I called tech support. Verdict: "We're sorry, it looks like a problem with the motherboard of the printer.  We're going to Fedex you one in 5-7 business days."  Lovely.  So they put a hold on my debit card for the amount of the printer, which they'll release once I get the new (hopefully working) one.  Of all the luck in the world- I get the printer that has an "internal problem."  At least I get some free ink!

This morning:
•Today as I am walking outside to the car I slip and fall down on the ice (naturally).  And we're not talking a nice slip, but a fall on your a*s fall.  Of course my camera was slung over my shoulder.  I broke the piece that holds the battery in, and the lens cap was jammed, too.  Ugh.  I screamed a horrible, Alfred Hitchcock Psycho scream.  Someone help, my baby is hurt!
•I took the camera to National Camera, and the stupid, not to mention uncaring (hello, this is my baby, show some compassion!) tech told me that they don't to repairs, and that I'll have to wait a WEEK until I can get it repaired at the shop they refer to, because- that shop is "on vactaion."  Since when did stores go on vacation? Hm. I called them, and sure enough.  I can't fix my baby until January 6th.
•So what did I do?  I got out some duct tape, fixed the battery, and eased the jam out of the lens cap.  My camera works fine, so that's a relief, but I have learned my lesson- take better care of it.
•Becasue I have such a giant crumpler bag (to hold all of my lens, etc...) I don't have a smaller one.  That is tomorrow's job: find a smaller bag.

sushi.

•It was a good night, and i love Caterpillar rolls : )
•In car news: took the poor car to Abra, estimated repair costs of roughly $3500 : ( I keep going over the thing in my head.  I'm so angry at myself for making this mistake and getting in a dumb accident that could of harmed myself or others.  The whole day, as I was driving, I kept thinking about how dumb I am in the car/with cars.  I have a license, obviously, and other than yesterday, a perfect record, but I still feel like an idiot.  I am so thankful to mom who has taken this all over, and called Allstate, and dealt with everything.  What great timing. 

rush. jingle. sign. crash.

So... I got in a car accident today.  I have absolutely no idea how to feel about he entire thing, which is long from over.  Clearly I am not hurt, since I'm blogging about this (but really, would I let anything stop me? Probably not), and neither was the driver of the other car.  Thank goodness.

Let me paint a lovely picture for you, set to the tune of flight of the bumblebee...

Me: an observant person by nature driving in stop and go traffic.  on a four lane highway. after a crazy winter storm leaving the roads coated in spots of black ice and piled high on the sides with heavy snow. picture me realizing in sadness that I'm going the wrong direction, and will be late to meet dad in Edina.

Then. The traffic eased up a bit.  And then right before my eyes was another car.  Adlfdhlkfhsdklhfslh.  Too. Close. To. Stop.

So I put on the brakes, and by the grace of God I was in the right lane, so I obviously start to swerve right.  Start spinning thanks to said ice.  And managed to only slightly hit the car in front of me, and while only the right corner of his car is hurt the ENTIRE left side of mine gets banged up.

Ugh.  My fault : (

And the entire time I'm spinning, all I can think of is how angry my mother is going to be.  Not if I'll die, just how mad I'll make others.

Thankfully no one was hurt.  The other driver was very nice, he was 23, and consoled my hysterically crying self while exchanging information.  "I've been in a few accidents before, so I'm not too upset," he says to me. 

After that I drove, meeting both dad and mom in Edina.  We eat dinner.  And no one was mad.  Strangely.  I still feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, but right now it all looks like it won't be that horrible of an ordeal: the guy I hit, and I have the same insurance...  Mom said to me, "well good side to hit it on because there was some rust over there."  The only thing that sucks besides two giant dents near the back (where's Edward when I need him?) is that the passenger door is hard to open and only opens a little bit. This is motivation not to eat too much over break.

And what am I doing tomorrow?  Running around as usual, making a return, hanging out with dad, and seeing J.

But wait- I didn't fill you in on the REST of the day, let me sum it up:
•Hurried to get downtown before lunchtime (rush).
•Met Jana for the adorable 8th floor Macy's display (jingle)
•Met the bride and groom for whom I'm shooting a wedding for to sign photography contract (sign)

the curtain goes up on my grecian drama

Well.  You know.  It goes kind of like this:

Sir Phillip and I tried to meet up to talk, and he had something of mine, and I needed that back.  I got to his house in como at about 11.  It was late, and dark, and a homeless man was walking around- but I walk fast...

And I sat down in the kitchen with him, and we talked.  And I have come to one conclusion in my short twenty one years.  This tactic does. not. work.  What was supposed to be a good little chat turned into:

Him: you are just so plugged in.  Plugged into Greek life.  Plugged into school.  Plugged into everything.  You are so high energy.  You have too much energy...

criticize.  criticize.  everything is your fault. criticize.

So.  I sad there and tried to explain who I am, and where I'm coming from, and I then I said: so you told me you've been hurt a lot.  Is that true?

Him: Yes I have.  And I just cannot talk about it.  I just can't talk about it.  It is too sad.  This conversation we're having is just too sad.  You're always happy, and I am not not a naturally happy person, and it's too hard to talk about...

backing. out. slowly. And keep in mind, he wouldn't even walk me home.  And so I had to talk to Anne all the way home on my phone hoping to not get attacked. 

So this morning.  I told him that I thought he was not very nice, and it was rude to blame everything on me.  And then.  Oh no.  It got worse. 

Him: You never said that before, which makes me believe that you are just restating the opinions of your sisters. 

Oh. no.

But. then.  Oh it gets worse. 

Him: And you're manipulative.

And then I was done.  Sine he couldn't even give me a real example of each I was done.  And as Karen says, you know he'll be calling you in a few months wondering what went wrong and trying to get back into your life.

Like they always do. 

The curtain goes down.  Me and my projects, trying to be crafty with broken men.  Craft time needs to be done.

and so i digress into a pit of sadness once again.

So, Sir. Phillip, and I.  Remember him?  Recall how we had the most perfect date last spring and la la things were just perfect.  Then I went to Utah and he said some mean things right before that.  And I took him out of my phone and forgot about him?

Then.  Two weeks into Utah.  My phone rings.  I remember it.  I was sitting in the dining room table doing nothing.  It was a home area code.  I was so happy.

And so I thought... I can give you one more chance.  And when I get home, and I see you, we are going to have a little talk about why you got so weird.

So home I went with a spring in my step.  And we sat in the car, on a dark night, and he held my hand and told me why we got so weird.  And it was serious.  And had nothing to do with me (damn my pessimism).  And I listened and it was something quite serious.  So I thought- okay.  I can do this.  I can venture down this road with this kid, and I hope he's nice.

And on Tuesday.  I was over there, having fun with him and other Sigs.  And things were good.  People were laughing and sliding down banisters (oops, that was just me). 

So he said, let's do a super surprise date on Saturday.  But our weekends were crazy, they did not match up.  So Sunday became the fall back day- for homework, naturally.  And he calls me, telling me he's going to pick me up when he gets down to campus.

I wait.  I wait. I wait.

I text: how close are you?

He calls, "Oh, I'm sorry.  I forgot.  I am so tired."  blah blah blah.

But then we still met up, and he said, "I am so sorry.  I feel so bad for flaking out on you.  I do want to take you on a date.  Do you like to dance?  We can go salsa dancing on Tuesday." 

So I am happy of course.  And Monday passes.  And so does Tuesday.

Now I am not so happy.

So there comes a point, where we all hit the end of our rope, and if you're like me that means night time.  And you're tired of always minding your p's and q's, and sick of waiting, and the sick feeling that comes with that, and tired of being treated badly so you just let it go.  And I said what I needed to say.  All in text, naturally.

"You're not the only one who has been hurt.  You are not the only one who gets scared.  You have flaked out on me, and what am I supposed to think of that..."

Then I started crying.  Because I recall how horrible my dating situation is.  And I wrap myself in a pink and white check cashmere blanket. 

And then he writes:

"I'm sorry.  I didn't have my phone with me.  I was at the store."

Oh. Crap.

So dear men of my past,
Thank you for royally f*cking me up so much that a person cannot even go to the store without me getting scared.

xoxo
Me

And yes folks, I certainly shot myself in the foot with this one.  He'll never talk to me again, and that is that.

Disappointed. Once. Again.