Good. Good first day.

So, it feels like a "give you the blow by blow" type day. pause. (had to do it).

Got up at like 8am. Free breakfast in the lobby of my dorm. Holler. Woot woot. Came back and ate a banana. Work. Class. Dinner with friends. But in between the two classes, one thing that had me a little frenzied: books. Now, I don't play games when it comes to books and I usually find out a way not to buy them. Be it library, Borrow Direct,E-books, borrow... buying the book the last option unless I really feel I will be using it in the future. So, of course after my first class I go to the library to get the books... went to three different ones... One question: WHO THE HEEL (yes, heel) done got to the books before me? Oh no no no. And I was hot running back and forth. But it's gonna be alright. Haha.

Classes. Intro to Asian American Studies. Interested. Looking forward to learning. Had the professor before. Should be good. Music Hum. or should I say Masterpieces of Western Music? Why not? Columbia does. Or should I say class full of music by dead white men? Why not? my teacher did. And therein, she stole my heart away. Haha. I forced it. Well, she made me excited about her approach to the class. She's a musical theorist focusing on "pop" music AND she says she primarily looks at it from a feminist approach and acknowledged that there aren't many women or people of color represented in the class. I lit up. Teachers outside of Ethnic Studies that look critically (acknowledging its strengths and weaknesses) at Columbia's CORE curriculum win me over instantly. And we talked about music for a while: when and how we listen, to what etc. Okay, I didn't talk then. But, I listened and answered the little questions on my sheet: paragraph-like. Soaked it all in. Then we listened to 1. "Dies Irae" (a Medieval Chant, apparently no ones knows who wrote it) 2. a piece from Mozart's opera, The Marriage of Figaro (Sull'aria, i think) and 3. "Superstition" by Stevie Wonder. Needless to say my heart skipped a beat when I recognized the last one (took 2 or 3 seconds) and I looked around, not everyone was as excited- but, this is okay.

For the first time since I've been here, I feel excited about learning. It's a return to a younger me. I feel hella/so/mad/wild alive thinking about it now. I hope this continues. I trust it will. I don't know what's getting into me, but I like it. I thank the Lord above.

this is my jam! (or one of them... ;])

"And baby when the sun comes up

I’m gonna be holding you

It’s destiny that you’re next to me

I’m in love with you

Oh and baby when I wake up

I’m gonna be there with you

A new day rise

I wanna look in your eyes

when the sun comes up."

So. There is just something about this... I think about it sometimes. Not just the "love is here with a second chance" aspect, though that's a great part of it as well, but having somebody there when the sun comes up. And not just anybody, "destiny." Waking up with someone you're in love with. I guess I imagine it as more than just "waking up" for the day but for so many other things. Waking up to each other, to possibility, to dreams, and endurance, and lasting and waking up everywhere inside. Having someone to wake up to/wake up with, this simultaneous action in love. Heightened, rising with/to the sun. Some of The best mornings for me are when the sun is just hitting so many spots in my room, if not flooding it. (that reminds me of this chapter in The Scarlet Letter called a "Flood of Sunshine. i think i did a project on it. Mad symbolism but that's neither here nor there but yes) And so sometimes, i think I stare at sun rays, stare at what the sun is lighting up in my room and smile. Thank the window, and the shade for its modesty. "When the sun comes up, I'm gonna be holding you." You know, sun is good for you, with its Vitamin D and golden (aura) brown bestowing abilities. And, right now I don't know if I can fully wrap my mind around the idea of having this relationship set in motion of associating the sun and the one you love. I think we do it all the time, even if we've never had it/been in love. We associate "destiny" (read, "the one") with warmth, life, light/rescue from darkness, waking you up, vibrancy, something that will always be there etc etc more.Or maybe, that's just me. Except, I won't go blind staring at "destiny" but there's definitely another risk there. I shall not rant on. A lil John Legend can make my day! "Woooaah yeaeeah"

So I’m thinking about some things that deem you wisdom-wielding

One of them is having natural hair. Have had this mini conversation about this before, but just in the sense that people expect people with locks to be really intelligent, know a lot about black history and speak in poetry. That’s not what I’m talking about right now. I’m thinking about natural hair as decision. Not as political position but as personal decision and taking a leap. I decided to go natural because I thought it looked cool on a couple people I had seen, I saw through my mother and her red locks it was viable, and because I missed seeing what my hair looked like underneath the relaxer. Personal decision. Yes, black is beautiful. I won’t pretend that it is not layered and varied. Again, this is not my focus. My focus: when people ask me about my hair, how long it was when I cut, who does it and where, what products, is it manageable… It’s about admiration to an extent, and interest but also I feel like it’s a question about choices I’ve made. I don’t see it as a big deal. There are days relaxer seems so far from who I am now… even when I had an afro two years ago. So, back to choices; I feel like I’m being incoherent but, I chose to cut my hair and take it on as things followed because I want to.  I made a choice, one that not many people would’ve been behind or thought would turn out well but I wanted it. I’ve been thinking every once and a while about cutting it. I don’t know if I really will or if I just feel insecure about the maintenance of my locs today. But I know that if I do, it’ll be okay. I’ll get used to changes. I wish I could extend that idea more often into other parts of my life. I’m learning, not to look back too often. I was feeling a little sick until I started to write this (and other things) out. I’m glad, writing fixed me a little. Getting even one answer can be a process, decision making definitely too. One day at a time. And I think my mini-anxiety attack comes from not really appearance but representation. I wonder about what I’m projecting. Am I falling off? (And, I would ask the mirror this before any person.) What does this do to my face? What is my face? Who am I? What’s next? Yes, I’m asking glass. And this has become really long…

Btdubbs. Is it wack that when I Googled "short natural hairstyles" (and Google added "black women" at the end) and I saw this picture of Lauryn Hill, I said to myself, "That's it!?"

Actually, her hair was dope on a regular. Something else I've contemplated, the notion of the "Sweetest Thing." Another subject, for another time. Until then, the beautiful song :]

Earthquake/Haiti

Last night, I found myself thanking God for the troubles that I have. Earthquake. Living on the (North) East Coast, I have no real semblance of that. 7.0 in magnitude. Amazing. Shaken. Broken. Lives. Homes. Hearts. Bodies. And, there are so many things that make it more real in my mind every day. The news. Shows still covering the story. Facebook notes and statuses and links. Pictures. Thinking about the people that I know with family there. And, what I’ve learned of their history. But, it's so much more than that. So, I sit sometimes and it’s larger than I can fathom, what happened. To walk around, and see that almost everything has fallen. I’m praying for the people of Haiti. I sent what little money I have. I encourage others to do the same. Everyone deserves to be safe and healthy, a chance in happiness and life. Food. Water. Clothing. Healthcare. 

Because she's dope.

 So, my mom has always loved Me'Shell NdegéOcello, especially her first album Plantation Lullabies (1993). But, I reckon as a youngin' I wasn't ready to listen to, really hear, and appreciate her music. I'm there now :] And I plan to learn more. Recently, one of my friends made me aware of this song and the album it's from, Comfort Woman (2003). Before the only songs I had heard were "Fool of Me" (which you may have heard in the movie Love & Basketball), "If That's Your Boyfriend," "Who Is He and What is He to You?" Clearly not enough since she's been making music since 1993.

 1. "Andromeda & the Milky Way"

Beautiful lyrics & the music takes me to the title.



2. "If That's Your Boyfriend (He Wasn't Last Night)"

I just think this video and song are really interesting. There's a lot to listen and attend to from the actual track, as well as what the women in the video are saying. First, the black and white can not be ignored. And it's more than the literal colors on the screen but the presence of Black and White women (for me, an awareness heightened by the first woman's statement at the beginning of the video). But also larger themes of love and relationships, family, cheating, gender, sexuality etc. And, I feel like this could become a very long interpretation. Not my intention. I'll just let you watch, listen, judge and enjoy for yourself.   

I'm late but...

No introductions necessary. Just LISTEN. Lupe is wild [insert amazing, clever, dope or any other word that could quite equal the mastery]


click it (below)
Lupe Fiasco's ENEMY OF THE STATE: A Love Story

"We will not compromise who we are to be accepted by the crowd.
We want substance in the place of popularity.
We want to think our own thoughts.
We want love, not lies.
We want knowledge, understanding and peace.
We will not lose,
because we are not losers.
We are lasers."

Word.

Thursday's Will.

It makes for an interesting experience when i dance with my iPod in my bra. I find that if I move enough, my boob changes the volume. Try it with this song:

"Breathe & Stop" by Q-tip 

 Battle Studies came in the mail today. I wonder if I’ve heard enough of this cd to buy it, but I figure even if I don’t like it as much as the others I’ll have somewhat of a complete collection of John Mayer. Then I remember I don’t own all the actual cases. I own Room for Squares. My sister has Heavier Things. I burned Continuum from my late friend. Made me wonder who he left his cds to. (He had a lot). It’d be funny I’m saying this too, because he thought (or at least joked) that was one of the main reasons I was his friend.  (Not true). Makes me wonder who I’d leave mine too… who I’d leave it all too. Let’s write a practice will.

1.      Leave the CDs to whoever has the balls (or the ovaries) to ask for them. If more than one, split equally. If there is a fight over the same CD have each person tell why the CD is important to them. Mark for passion.

2.      Leave the clothes to my sister. Whatever she can’t fit or doesn’t want, give to charity… or cut it up and make cool stuff with it. Whatever, have it honored it some way.

3.      Same with shoes.

4.      Same with jewelry.

5.      Whatever writing you can find. Publish it. And try to arrange it in to making some type of sense if possible. If it’s better random, screw that.

6.      My laptop. Hopefully, it will be obsolete by the time of my death. Get all the writing off it first. The journals are password protected though. Tough cookies! But uhm, if I should feel the end is impending I’ll leave the passwords somewhere maybe. *shrugs shoulders*

7.      iPod will probably be obsolete as well. Not to mention, mine is falling apart.

8.      My home. I don’t know. How do you leave your home?

9.      I’m an organ donor.

10.  I guess you can take my locs… however that would work.

listening to Battle Studies now. So, I’m liking “Half of My Heart”

            Half of my heart’s got a real good imagination

            Half of my heart's got you

            Half of my heart’s got a right mind to tell you that

            Half of my heart won’t do

        

 mhmm. back to focus.

11.  I can’t think of anything else I own right now. Oh, the monies… lil’ scholarship? Make it a writing scholarship. Give it to the girl or boy who tells the truth, preferably an unflattering or embarrassing truth, with apparent disregard for frills and impressiveness. Gotta think of who I would choose to judge that though…

Maybe more at a later date.