Interesting realization as I reflected on my new year mindset. As I thought about 2009, I felt what I feel at the end of most every year--tremendous guilt. I feel badly about all that I didn't accomplish--I didn't magically improve my career, I didn't lose weight (quite the contrary), I didn't launch the social innovation of the 21st century that will make our world more just, I didn't write the great American novel, I didn't make my house worthy of a Southern Living spread, I didn't make all my friends and family feel as special as they are to me, I didn't save money or spend money on worthwhile things, I didn't spend more time with God, I didn't use my passport (in fact, it expired and I couldn't find it to renew it). I did have some enjoyable time watching NASCAR, college football, pro football, and some fun comedy shows. I did work with a team of people I really like and carve out a professional work area that is meaningful to me and important for my organization. I did meet some great new people and spent a little bit of quality time--whether via facebook or email or in person--with friends and family. And Randy and I did buy a home that we love and are looking to welcome another family member to the Dowells in 2010. But those things were largely random, and for much of 2009 I felt like I should be doing more.
So this year as I made my list of goals, I began reflecting on what 2010 isn't NECESSARILY for.
My big themes this year are to enjoy my family, my home, and my profession. I looked proudly at my list. And then the guilt kicked in.
Guilty because when I looked at this list it felt--selfish. Firstly, God was missing. Secondly, it was all about my enjoyment. Then I reflected further and realized that it's silly (and unrealistic) to put God in his own compartment. Every year I say, "i'm going to spend more time with God". What does that even mean? Where is God if he's not with me, with my family, with the work I do. If I'm really reflecting on how to most enjoy my family, my home, and my profession, I am actually reflecting on how to most enjoy God's blessings, and how to be the best steward of God's gifts. I think that would be far superior to what I do most years--feeling guilty about not spending time with God, bemoaning time I spend with family and friends because I feel like I should be working, and being too tired from working to spend time in fellowship with my family or friends or reflecting on God. So enjoying God's blessings might seem (and might even be) selfish--but it also frees me to spend time in relationship and in connection.
The other thing that felt strange to me when I looked at this list is that it didn't seem very Big, Hairy, or Audacious! Where'd all that 20-something ambition go? What about writing? What about launching a social venture? What about whipping back into (or into I guess I should say ;-)) tip top shape after I have our first child? I freed myself. That's okay. First of all, I'm having a baby this year. That's plenty. Secondly, am I entirely sure what I want to do professionally? Do I want to write full time? Is this social venture what I want to do long-term? Well, it may emerge as the year goes on that indeed I do want to write and indeed I do want to launch this social venture. But that's not what this year is designed for in its start. I want to enjoy my family, my home, and my profession.
So that means this isn't necessarily the year for feeling like I need to launch any new professional ideas. I'm going to launch some new recipes, some new decorating ideas, and a new life into the world. And if special professional opportunities emerge, I'll be in tune with God and my family to figure out how to walk forward in those.
So I find something freeing about these new year's resolutions. And I'm as freed in identifying what my priorities are as I am in identifiying what they are not.
And ironically, here I am writing--even though it's NOT one of my resolutions ;-). But it'll probably make me enjoy my family, my home, and my profession more--so I'm okay with it.
Here's to a guilt-free December 31, 2010. Oh! And we do have one resolution. If we haven't eaten at the Captain D's around the corner from our house by December 31st, 2010, we will eat at Captain D's. We live so close and we have never eaten there. So that's our one concrete resolution.
Saturday, January 02, 2010
Friday, September 23, 2005
From Rita to read-uh????
This is an email I had sent to friends. But I figure it makes for as good a blog as anything!!! This is an account of my time leading to my "evacuation" of Houston.
Wednesday, September 21st...
* 6:30pm: arrive to parents house to have family discussion on where we should go. dad is sweating like a slave boarding up house. mom is cooking--cornbread, red beans, rice--and walking around pissed cause dad has no plan yet. she is packing up the house. did i mention she's pissed? josiah, my 3-year old nephew whose big head apparently only matches mine in size, yells to me "A HURCANE'S COMING AND ITS GONNA BE DANJRUS!" he, unlike me, is excited. i guess that's the difference between a 3-year old who has the luxury of observing life and a 29-year old who has to live it...mortgage, possible tree through roof, and all.
* 6:45pm: dad comes in for a rest. mom opens fridge and pulls food out. dad says, "ros.. i'll eat when i'm finished." mom yells (becasue she's pissed), "i ain't worried about you! i'm not taking out food for you!". daughters tell mom she's being ugly and mean. slight argument ensues. josiah and zion are yelling. we tell dad not to push further with mom. he does. more arguing ensues. malene makes comment, "no wonder so many families got split apart at katrina. they were probably like, "to hell with you!"" because in a silly fit of rage parents say, "FINE! just leave whenever then!". my mom is pissed because my dad was first trying to say he would leave on friday, then not at all, then at noon. during all this confusion i decide to capitalize on the ticket out of town i had bought just in case and say screw this confusion i'm going to nashville. dad returns outside to board house.
* 6:55: i go outside, feeling bad for dad (you know, he's doing the best he can to "lead the family" and it's really not all that good). i offer to help him board. then malene comes outside. we help. josiah comes out. i play football with him. i can beat a 3-year old in football it turns out. i get bit by mosquitoes.
* 7:30: decide to hell with my family's non-plans and go home to continue taking all potential projectiles out of my yard (loose bricks, trash cans, balls, recycling bins, plants, etc.). my sister is useless at this point. she does little more than question if any of the work i'm doing is necessary. also take valuables (the few i have) to the second floor of my house.
* 9:00: dad comes over. still sweating like a slave. brings extra plywood (no more available in the city). he and my neighbor who has a crush on me help board my back doors. i hope for the best for the rest of my windows. we also scope out the trees around my house. my dad said only one should be of concern and it wouldn't have enough velocity to hurt my house so i should be okay. let's keep praying. gives me a (perhaps false) sense of security.
* 11:00: still putzing around getting packed and cleaning up. getting documents ready, taking stuff upstairs, moving stuff around, etc. parents have decided not to leave. i argue with aisha that she needs to still figure out a plan no matter what they do. she is useless though and says if they don't leave she's in no rush to leave. but she, unlike my parents, has a kid. she needs to leave. whatever. within 30 minutes my parents have changed their mind decided to leave at noon tomorrow. this was at malenes urging. she's my other sister.
* 11:30pm: go to bed. plan to wake at 6am.
* 2:30am: erin and adrian (good friends) take off for dallas.
* 3:00am: malene takes off for dallas.
* 3:30am: dad calls. trying to wake my sis but she's narcoleptic so that's no easy task. she won't pick up the house phone so he calls my cell phone. he says they've been watching the news and the traffic is horrible so they need to get on the road as soon as possible. i wake up my sister and decide to get up and continue preparing the house. putting stuff against windows in case my crackhead neighbors decide to loot, stuffing towels under doors, watching the news like it's crack and i'm a fiend even though no news happens when a storm is 400+miles away. somehow this is all so fascinating.
* 4:30am: my sis takes off to my parents. they go to meet up with my aunt lanette and uncle rayford, grandmother, aunt judy, uncle roland, uncle eric, and some of my cousins to caravan to dallas. they only have one hotel room reserved. we'll see how this turns out.
* 6:30am: i take off. we didn't take out trash on trash day tuesday so i load all the trash and my luggage into the car. i have to put the trash bin in my house so i don't want it to be smelly when i get back (which i'm sure it will be given the power will likely go out). i take the trash to the dumpster at a nearby church, go to the bank, and head to the airport. i call erin. she and her husband are just at the houston bush airport. a typical 30 minute drive has taken 4 hours. my parents are still in houston (in traffic). my sister has decided to go to atlanta and is moving a bit faster but is at a city right past houston.
* 7:20am: get to airport. it's a madhouse. people yelling to find their friends, babies crying, lots of old people being pushed around in wheelchairs, mass confusion. literally thousands of people in line. in a shani first, i am there 2.5 hours before my flight. i get my A boarding card. and i stand in line for 2 hours to get through security. people who check baggage were probably in line fo three hours.
* 9:20am: YAY! success. head to get a bite to eat before getting on the plane. get on plane. we stay grounded. southwest has directs to not move the plane until it is full or there is another plane that needs the gate. some folks who have connections are pissed. i'm not. i think it's a good call.
* 12:30pm: YAY! i'm in nashville. the rest of my family is one to two hours outside of houston (well, according to typical drive times...actually they've been in the car for 10 hours or more). my dad is redeeming himself though by actually leading the pack through back roads to make better time than most. one of my cousins has broke down on the side of the road, my sister malene has been trying to figure out how to change her baby zion and pee without losing her place in the traffic.
* 1:15pm: walk into KIPP Academy Nashville. all the kids start smiling and looking and waving at me. they are in literature circle. Mr. Dowell (that's randy, my boyfriend) is reading. He looks up at me and says to the kids, "say hello ms. jackson" "HELLO MS JACKSON!!!" they scream. i smile and put down my stuff.
Wednesday, September 21st...
* 6:30pm: arrive to parents house to have family discussion on where we should go. dad is sweating like a slave boarding up house. mom is cooking--cornbread, red beans, rice--and walking around pissed cause dad has no plan yet. she is packing up the house. did i mention she's pissed? josiah, my 3-year old nephew whose big head apparently only matches mine in size, yells to me "A HURCANE'S COMING AND ITS GONNA BE DANJRUS!" he, unlike me, is excited. i guess that's the difference between a 3-year old who has the luxury of observing life and a 29-year old who has to live it...mortgage, possible tree through roof, and all.
* 6:45pm: dad comes in for a rest. mom opens fridge and pulls food out. dad says, "ros.. i'll eat when i'm finished." mom yells (becasue she's pissed), "i ain't worried about you! i'm not taking out food for you!". daughters tell mom she's being ugly and mean. slight argument ensues. josiah and zion are yelling. we tell dad not to push further with mom. he does. more arguing ensues. malene makes comment, "no wonder so many families got split apart at katrina. they were probably like, "to hell with you!"" because in a silly fit of rage parents say, "FINE! just leave whenever then!". my mom is pissed because my dad was first trying to say he would leave on friday, then not at all, then at noon. during all this confusion i decide to capitalize on the ticket out of town i had bought just in case and say screw this confusion i'm going to nashville. dad returns outside to board house.
* 6:55: i go outside, feeling bad for dad (you know, he's doing the best he can to "lead the family" and it's really not all that good). i offer to help him board. then malene comes outside. we help. josiah comes out. i play football with him. i can beat a 3-year old in football it turns out. i get bit by mosquitoes.
* 7:30: decide to hell with my family's non-plans and go home to continue taking all potential projectiles out of my yard (loose bricks, trash cans, balls, recycling bins, plants, etc.). my sister is useless at this point. she does little more than question if any of the work i'm doing is necessary. also take valuables (the few i have) to the second floor of my house.
* 9:00: dad comes over. still sweating like a slave. brings extra plywood (no more available in the city). he and my neighbor who has a crush on me help board my back doors. i hope for the best for the rest of my windows. we also scope out the trees around my house. my dad said only one should be of concern and it wouldn't have enough velocity to hurt my house so i should be okay. let's keep praying. gives me a (perhaps false) sense of security.
* 11:00: still putzing around getting packed and cleaning up. getting documents ready, taking stuff upstairs, moving stuff around, etc. parents have decided not to leave. i argue with aisha that she needs to still figure out a plan no matter what they do. she is useless though and says if they don't leave she's in no rush to leave. but she, unlike my parents, has a kid. she needs to leave. whatever. within 30 minutes my parents have changed their mind decided to leave at noon tomorrow. this was at malenes urging. she's my other sister.
* 11:30pm: go to bed. plan to wake at 6am.
* 2:30am: erin and adrian (good friends) take off for dallas.
* 3:00am: malene takes off for dallas.
* 3:30am: dad calls. trying to wake my sis but she's narcoleptic so that's no easy task. she won't pick up the house phone so he calls my cell phone. he says they've been watching the news and the traffic is horrible so they need to get on the road as soon as possible. i wake up my sister and decide to get up and continue preparing the house. putting stuff against windows in case my crackhead neighbors decide to loot, stuffing towels under doors, watching the news like it's crack and i'm a fiend even though no news happens when a storm is 400+miles away. somehow this is all so fascinating.
* 4:30am: my sis takes off to my parents. they go to meet up with my aunt lanette and uncle rayford, grandmother, aunt judy, uncle roland, uncle eric, and some of my cousins to caravan to dallas. they only have one hotel room reserved. we'll see how this turns out.
* 6:30am: i take off. we didn't take out trash on trash day tuesday so i load all the trash and my luggage into the car. i have to put the trash bin in my house so i don't want it to be smelly when i get back (which i'm sure it will be given the power will likely go out). i take the trash to the dumpster at a nearby church, go to the bank, and head to the airport. i call erin. she and her husband are just at the houston bush airport. a typical 30 minute drive has taken 4 hours. my parents are still in houston (in traffic). my sister has decided to go to atlanta and is moving a bit faster but is at a city right past houston.
* 7:20am: get to airport. it's a madhouse. people yelling to find their friends, babies crying, lots of old people being pushed around in wheelchairs, mass confusion. literally thousands of people in line. in a shani first, i am there 2.5 hours before my flight. i get my A boarding card. and i stand in line for 2 hours to get through security. people who check baggage were probably in line fo three hours.
* 9:20am: YAY! success. head to get a bite to eat before getting on the plane. get on plane. we stay grounded. southwest has directs to not move the plane until it is full or there is another plane that needs the gate. some folks who have connections are pissed. i'm not. i think it's a good call.
* 12:30pm: YAY! i'm in nashville. the rest of my family is one to two hours outside of houston (well, according to typical drive times...actually they've been in the car for 10 hours or more). my dad is redeeming himself though by actually leading the pack through back roads to make better time than most. one of my cousins has broke down on the side of the road, my sister malene has been trying to figure out how to change her baby zion and pee without losing her place in the traffic.
* 1:15pm: walk into KIPP Academy Nashville. all the kids start smiling and looking and waving at me. they are in literature circle. Mr. Dowell (that's randy, my boyfriend) is reading. He looks up at me and says to the kids, "say hello ms. jackson" "HELLO MS JACKSON!!!" they scream. i smile and put down my stuff.
Monday, September 19, 2005
War on God...
The parallel is a bit eery to me. Four years ago in September George Bush was trying to answer American's questions--is this the end of the world (we can be a bit ethnocentric ya' know. Millions can die in genocide in Rwanda, hundreds can die any day of the week in Palestine or Israel, but if anything happens to Americans it must be a sign of the end of the world)? how weren't we protected from this? what do we need to do to keep this from happening to us again?
George Bush greeted those questions with answers. This is not the end of the world. It is the end of the axis of evil though. This won't happen again because we're going to hunt the enemy down and kill him. We are launching a war on terror. We knew the enemy (or so he said). The enemy was...Afghanistan? Iraq? Some brown people somewhere.
Well, now what are we to launch? A war on God? As he twisted the war of terror around so he could pin it on the Iraqis, maybe he's going to twist this hurricane around and make it an act of the Iraqis too. (the result of all of this is always the same anyway...terrorists attack? oil prices go up. hurricane hits? oil prices go up. the sun shines while Bush is president? oil prices go up). Actually, maybe he'd be right. If the oil situation hadn't gotten so crazy, maybe folks could afford to get in their cars and drive away from New Orleans. Or maybe they could afford to have cars at all.
I really think the reason Bush has said so little in the days following Katrina (other than, "let's not play the blame game"....which he makes sound so fun!!!) is he really has no one to blame. The petulant school boy is looking around for someone to blame...like a 5th grader wanting to blame the teacher who just doesn't like him or the schoolmate who "started it" or the dog who ate the homework. Really, all he can blame for this situation is 100% an act of God. And as the fine president, anything that happens on this country after God's act is all he can be responsible for.
Perhaps Bush is realizing that as much as he would like to tell people who to marry, who to fight, who the leader of a country across the ocean should be, how people across the world should govern themselves, what women should do with their unborn, how parents should educate their kids, and how to save (or kill) the environment, he is not quite ready for God's job. After all, he can't do his own.
George Bush greeted those questions with answers. This is not the end of the world. It is the end of the axis of evil though. This won't happen again because we're going to hunt the enemy down and kill him. We are launching a war on terror. We knew the enemy (or so he said). The enemy was...Afghanistan? Iraq? Some brown people somewhere.
Well, now what are we to launch? A war on God? As he twisted the war of terror around so he could pin it on the Iraqis, maybe he's going to twist this hurricane around and make it an act of the Iraqis too. (the result of all of this is always the same anyway...terrorists attack? oil prices go up. hurricane hits? oil prices go up. the sun shines while Bush is president? oil prices go up). Actually, maybe he'd be right. If the oil situation hadn't gotten so crazy, maybe folks could afford to get in their cars and drive away from New Orleans. Or maybe they could afford to have cars at all.
I really think the reason Bush has said so little in the days following Katrina (other than, "let's not play the blame game"....which he makes sound so fun!!!) is he really has no one to blame. The petulant school boy is looking around for someone to blame...like a 5th grader wanting to blame the teacher who just doesn't like him or the schoolmate who "started it" or the dog who ate the homework. Really, all he can blame for this situation is 100% an act of God. And as the fine president, anything that happens on this country after God's act is all he can be responsible for.
Perhaps Bush is realizing that as much as he would like to tell people who to marry, who to fight, who the leader of a country across the ocean should be, how people across the world should govern themselves, what women should do with their unborn, how parents should educate their kids, and how to save (or kill) the environment, he is not quite ready for God's job. After all, he can't do his own.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Dropouts and suburbia
Today was just another day in the sub/urbs. I had an interesting lil' mix of the suburban life and well, I live every day in urban life (you know, streets littered with an equal dose of churches and liquor stores, saints and sinners, "new urban lofts" and old homes falling apart at the hands of the overgrown sons living with, but not taking care of, their mommas).
My voyage to suburbia did not disappoint. My sister lives there so I take the 30-minute drive (well, more like ride--my car's a bit of a hooptie and 30 minutes sans radio or air conditioning or horsepower (my car has more like camel power) in Houston at any time of the year ain't cool so I usually have to hitch a ride with my sister or parents) and venture out that way from time to time. Today I was in her neighborhood, and at quite the suburban event--a one year old's birthday party! I was there with my two nephews (one and three). The party represented the suburbs well, replete with event planners, leis (the theme was a luau), blow up coconut palm trees, hot dogs, fries, pizza, fresh fruit, and suburban parents.
And my urban world never disappoints. Alcoholics and crackheads as neighbors, toothless grins greeting me in the middle of the day, and today, an effort to support Houston's public schools by riding around to collect what school district officials politely calls "no shows"--the kids that common folks who aren't official call truants or dropouts (or for probably a good number of the kids who have to leave school to make money to support a family, just hard workers). The effort was laudable, and while not the most strategic use of community or volunteer power (we were 8 volunteers descending on the homes of 4 kids at 8:00 in the morning), it was cool to traipse about Houston's 2nd ward with the hopes of returning a kid to school (though probably my even bigger hope of hopes was that we'd be returning them to a school worthy of having kids returned). The streets we hopped around were filled with peluquerias, "envia dinero rapido" signs hanging off of homes, and taquerias. It was cool.
The suburbs were filled with,trees, water fountains (not like school water fountains where the water doesn't come out so you almost have to eat the nozzle or slurp from it and your water tastes like metal--but water fountains that are worthy of being a part of the suburban landscape), neatly manicured school (and home) lawns, and families with children who behaved properly in public at the birthday party. My 3-year old nephew who lives with us in urban world acted, well, urban. He played with stuff that wasn't supposed to be played with, he was loud at the wrong times, he MC Hammered to the Bob Marley tunes that were theme-appropriate (but not necessarily Hammer appropriate), and played with the games as the event planners tried to pack them up.
Not much a point to this blog. But I guess that's the joy of a blog. No point needed!!!
Enjoy wherever you live--the suburbs or the urbs.
Love,
Me!
My voyage to suburbia did not disappoint. My sister lives there so I take the 30-minute drive (well, more like ride--my car's a bit of a hooptie and 30 minutes sans radio or air conditioning or horsepower (my car has more like camel power) in Houston at any time of the year ain't cool so I usually have to hitch a ride with my sister or parents) and venture out that way from time to time. Today I was in her neighborhood, and at quite the suburban event--a one year old's birthday party! I was there with my two nephews (one and three). The party represented the suburbs well, replete with event planners, leis (the theme was a luau), blow up coconut palm trees, hot dogs, fries, pizza, fresh fruit, and suburban parents.
And my urban world never disappoints. Alcoholics and crackheads as neighbors, toothless grins greeting me in the middle of the day, and today, an effort to support Houston's public schools by riding around to collect what school district officials politely calls "no shows"--the kids that common folks who aren't official call truants or dropouts (or for probably a good number of the kids who have to leave school to make money to support a family, just hard workers). The effort was laudable, and while not the most strategic use of community or volunteer power (we were 8 volunteers descending on the homes of 4 kids at 8:00 in the morning), it was cool to traipse about Houston's 2nd ward with the hopes of returning a kid to school (though probably my even bigger hope of hopes was that we'd be returning them to a school worthy of having kids returned). The streets we hopped around were filled with peluquerias, "envia dinero rapido" signs hanging off of homes, and taquerias. It was cool.
The suburbs were filled with,trees, water fountains (not like school water fountains where the water doesn't come out so you almost have to eat the nozzle or slurp from it and your water tastes like metal--but water fountains that are worthy of being a part of the suburban landscape), neatly manicured school (and home) lawns, and families with children who behaved properly in public at the birthday party. My 3-year old nephew who lives with us in urban world acted, well, urban. He played with stuff that wasn't supposed to be played with, he was loud at the wrong times, he MC Hammered to the Bob Marley tunes that were theme-appropriate (but not necessarily Hammer appropriate), and played with the games as the event planners tried to pack them up.
Not much a point to this blog. But I guess that's the joy of a blog. No point needed!!!
Enjoy wherever you live--the suburbs or the urbs.
Love,
Me!
Friday, August 26, 2005
Rebirth...(Can people really change?)
Videos. They somehow inspire me to write. Bizarre inspiration.
So I'm sitting here watching Mariah Carey (aka Mimi) and i'm wondering--can people really change? [I'm also wondering why the producers of her Shake it Off video didn't edit the many corny parts where she looks like an insecure middle school girl trying out for the pep squad knowing she will never make the cheerleading one]. No offense to all you pep squad folks out there...you had an important role in middle and high schools across America! Anyway, I just started thinking about how Mariah reinvented herself--overcame her nervous breakdown and her white trash image (not that she's white but if folks are calling folks who aren't Black niggas these days I guess you don't have to be white to be called white trash either) to make a hit record. Then I started thinking about how Puffy has actually gone from Puff Daddy to Puffy to P. Diddy to now just Diddy. I mean, in reality he's the same triflin' at home yet hard-working, hustling, money-chasing man regardless of what he calls himself. But the way celebrities--from Mariah to Puffy to Madonna to Gwen Stefani to Mase--reinvent themselves, I'm wondering if people really can change? Or is it really just their image that changes?
It may take me a few days to finish thinking through this one.
Over the past few years I have been subjected to many claims of changed folks--you know, boyfriends who promise to do different, employers who promise to manage different, heck even myself who promises to get more organized, manage my finances more wisely, eat better, drink less, etc...As a Christian I have to believe in the power of people to change, especially with the power of God on their side. I mean, I do believe that people CAN change...I'm just not sure people actually choose TO change.
I guess I worry that most people change, not because they want to, but because they think it'll improve their image (a la Mariah, Diddy, J Lo, etc.). And therefore changes aren't real, they're just surface. I mean, how often do people change when things are going well? For sure I only make promises of improved organization after I miss a flight because I couldn't find my driver's license. I make a pledge of healthier eating after an evening eating lots of chips and salsa and drinking margaritas at Ninfa's.
I've had a few family members of late who have made some pretty serious promises--they'll stop drinking, stop doing drugs, stop having affairs. But the only reason they started making those promises was because they lost their jobs, their families, and much to our (and their) dismay their teeth in the process. I'm not one who needs to believe their promises of change--they don't live with me, owe me money, or have responsibility for anything in my life. Still I have to wonder--should those who need to believe in the possibility of change believe?
I don't have an answer to this, I guess I just have the question.
So I'm sitting here watching Mariah Carey (aka Mimi) and i'm wondering--can people really change? [I'm also wondering why the producers of her Shake it Off video didn't edit the many corny parts where she looks like an insecure middle school girl trying out for the pep squad knowing she will never make the cheerleading one]. No offense to all you pep squad folks out there...you had an important role in middle and high schools across America! Anyway, I just started thinking about how Mariah reinvented herself--overcame her nervous breakdown and her white trash image (not that she's white but if folks are calling folks who aren't Black niggas these days I guess you don't have to be white to be called white trash either) to make a hit record. Then I started thinking about how Puffy has actually gone from Puff Daddy to Puffy to P. Diddy to now just Diddy. I mean, in reality he's the same triflin' at home yet hard-working, hustling, money-chasing man regardless of what he calls himself. But the way celebrities--from Mariah to Puffy to Madonna to Gwen Stefani to Mase--reinvent themselves, I'm wondering if people really can change? Or is it really just their image that changes?
It may take me a few days to finish thinking through this one.
Over the past few years I have been subjected to many claims of changed folks--you know, boyfriends who promise to do different, employers who promise to manage different, heck even myself who promises to get more organized, manage my finances more wisely, eat better, drink less, etc...As a Christian I have to believe in the power of people to change, especially with the power of God on their side. I mean, I do believe that people CAN change...I'm just not sure people actually choose TO change.
I guess I worry that most people change, not because they want to, but because they think it'll improve their image (a la Mariah, Diddy, J Lo, etc.). And therefore changes aren't real, they're just surface. I mean, how often do people change when things are going well? For sure I only make promises of improved organization after I miss a flight because I couldn't find my driver's license. I make a pledge of healthier eating after an evening eating lots of chips and salsa and drinking margaritas at Ninfa's.
I've had a few family members of late who have made some pretty serious promises--they'll stop drinking, stop doing drugs, stop having affairs. But the only reason they started making those promises was because they lost their jobs, their families, and much to our (and their) dismay their teeth in the process. I'm not one who needs to believe their promises of change--they don't live with me, owe me money, or have responsibility for anything in my life. Still I have to wonder--should those who need to believe in the possibility of change believe?
I don't have an answer to this, I guess I just have the question.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Happy Birthday to Me!!!
So it's my birthday. YAY! I guess. I don't know how I feel about this whole exposing my inner-most thinkings to the greater world. I mean, if I meet you in person and disclose way more than I should that's one thing. But over-disclosing without being able to look you in the eyes is a whole 'nother matter. Anywho, I've got way too much to overdisclose to be able to do it in this blog so I think I'll never make for a good blogger. Better stick to objective, academic essays that tell you nothing about me.
It's my birthday. I am now 29. I'm sitting home watching BET. Trina and somebody else. "Bad Chick". I'm going onto Itunes to look for the clean version of it. I love it....though I should probably listen more closely to the lyrics before I publish such proclamations. :-) Anyway, I don't think Miami rappers quite have clean versions of their songs--and at 29 I probably shouldn't be trying to download songs called "Bad Chick" but...you know, 30s are the new 20s...so...
Anywho, I just thought I'd start blogging today since it is the start of my 29th year. Almost 3 decades. I'm glad that I believe I've changed more than the world has. As I watch BET I can tell you what hasn't changed---videos (1) ugly rappers still wearing too much jewelry...and more jewelry than they can afford...surely they've got it on loan...one rap song on BET does not a rich person make (somebody better tell all the kids who are aspiring rappers!!!) 2) ugly rappers still gettin' at women who are too pretty for them...and cost more than they can afford...the women'll only talk to them if they think said ugly rapper can help them get an acting career...sadly these women are pretty and somehow somewhere along the way must've learned that pretty must be all they got...cause if they'd learned something else they'd be doing something else cause simple laws of statistics will tell them that video hos more often than not end up as washed up as all the talented 35-year old basketball players who live at home with their mommas but "still got a mean game!!"..and 3) joe (yeah, joe of "stutter", "all the things your man won't do" fame)! he still ain't got his own woman and is still singing about what he's going to do with someone else's woman. So anyway, on my 29th birthday I will celebrate--or mourn--the fact that rap videos have not changed much in my 29 years.
A big shout out of love to all of my friends who remembered...a special shout out to the pre-noon crew (if you're on EST or CST)...that's for those who really, really remembered ;-).
Happy birthday to me. And thanks nifamatic for the song ON the world wide web. WHAT technology!!!!
It's my birthday. I am now 29. I'm sitting home watching BET. Trina and somebody else. "Bad Chick". I'm going onto Itunes to look for the clean version of it. I love it....though I should probably listen more closely to the lyrics before I publish such proclamations. :-) Anyway, I don't think Miami rappers quite have clean versions of their songs--and at 29 I probably shouldn't be trying to download songs called "Bad Chick" but...you know, 30s are the new 20s...so...
Anywho, I just thought I'd start blogging today since it is the start of my 29th year. Almost 3 decades. I'm glad that I believe I've changed more than the world has. As I watch BET I can tell you what hasn't changed---videos (1) ugly rappers still wearing too much jewelry...and more jewelry than they can afford...surely they've got it on loan...one rap song on BET does not a rich person make (somebody better tell all the kids who are aspiring rappers!!!) 2) ugly rappers still gettin' at women who are too pretty for them...and cost more than they can afford...the women'll only talk to them if they think said ugly rapper can help them get an acting career...sadly these women are pretty and somehow somewhere along the way must've learned that pretty must be all they got...cause if they'd learned something else they'd be doing something else cause simple laws of statistics will tell them that video hos more often than not end up as washed up as all the talented 35-year old basketball players who live at home with their mommas but "still got a mean game!!"..and 3) joe (yeah, joe of "stutter", "all the things your man won't do" fame)! he still ain't got his own woman and is still singing about what he's going to do with someone else's woman. So anyway, on my 29th birthday I will celebrate--or mourn--the fact that rap videos have not changed much in my 29 years.
A big shout out of love to all of my friends who remembered...a special shout out to the pre-noon crew (if you're on EST or CST)...that's for those who really, really remembered ;-).
Happy birthday to me. And thanks nifamatic for the song ON the world wide web. WHAT technology!!!!
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