I can't believe my life.
Well, actually I can. It's just the people and things in my life that are...interesting.
What's really standing out in my mind right now is the barber who thought it better to "fix" my unkempt eyebrows by shaving half of one off. While razzing me the whole time I was in his chair. While he had a mini straight razor in hand.
I swear I felt like Mister in the Color Purple on that porch. What can you say back to someone that has a razor near your eyes, or in your face for that matter.
But to add insult to injury, he thought he did the best job he could given the dire state of my brows. RUDE!!!!
I wrote this really long, and perhaps not well thought out, blog on the myspace and for some reason, it concurrently didn't post AND erased my piece. VERY UNCOOL. I had to do some mindless, violent computer game action to calm me down. I was beyond heated.
Anyway, the jist was that somebody was justifying their infidelity with "slave men were bucks/breeders" rationale and I lost it. Absolutely lost it. I swear, black people and this propensity to blame personal ills on the institution that we are 400+ years removed from is ridiculous. True, it's had an effect on some things, but please don't try and pull that out your hat when trying to justify you being unfaithful to your wife, being lazy, or not trying to do better for yourself. Kizzy and Kunte don't control your life's circumstances, you do. Duh.
I need to eat. My grandma is joning on me about how skinny I am. And she weighs a healthy sub-100lbs. That ish hurts.
In other, happier news I have finished my two week endeavor, but have yet to put my newly acquired skills into practice. For some reason I have this thing about transitioning from school to working is hampering my efforts, but I really need to take the STFUADI attitude and move forward.
So I tell some people about this venture of mine and I'm met with entuhsiasm on one hand and "what the hell for?" on the other. I figure I'm just going to stop telling people stuff. I hAYTE being judged. Suckas.
And I'm dating a white guy. Always wanted to, but I can finally say that I am/have. HA! Score one for me. Mull over any commentary with the previous paragraph in mind - please and thank you.
NY Update: I'm applying for jobs back on the east coast. Nothing has happened, really, but per Uncle Russy (whose book I am really liking right now), I think I'm going to start packing.
I need boxes. Damn. Why is there always something.