Some Things You Hear

"Walking on the Moon" by The Dream

...cause I'll pull down a cloud for you / i'll circle the stars and bring you one back...

I would like to preface this whole blog entry by professing my romantic love for The Dream. You know, the girlhood love you had for El Debarge or New Edition? And you knew you were going to marry insert name of your lover here no matter what? That is how I feel about The Dream: as though I am 12 years old and everytime I hear a song of his I daydream about our life, a house, and kids.

Well, this time around, it is better than just a schoolgirl crush. I think The Dream is kind of a genius. Both albums that he has released were some kind of magical. I love all that 80s infused music. And not even good old 1980s R&B and soul, some straight 80s rock.

Why do I admire it so much? It is something different. His music and his sense of style is different but obviously somewhat natural to him (he is still from Hollyweird and there is a sense of inauthenticity about all of them in the fraternity of celebrityhoood).

It's exciting, however, because I often hate what I hear on the radio from rappers and singers alike. A handful of artist have appeared with better music and some artist of previous fame are coming out with different, more aesthetic, more artful sounds as well.

I just want Black men to see the artfulness of their existence. I am so tired of baggy jeans, saggin', t-shirts, kicks...my goodness. It is totally fine to dress like that sometimes. It is part of a culture that we should be proud of. However, why not mix it up with some slacks? A button up? A cardigan maybe?

I am not saying being Black or subscribing to hip hop culture is a problem. But I want Black people to diversify their expressions of identity. We let the media perpetuate a very monolithic presentation of us. Our Black men are always presented as 'gangsters', dealers, deadbeat dads, pimps, athletes, financially irresponsible, bottle poppin', stuntin', kind of annoying, ignorant to the issues of the world, materialistic, uneducated coons. Yes, this is how I feel our wonderful Black men are erroneously depicted, with a frequency that far outshines their innumerable qualities.

And, so as not to lose my mind, I cannot discuss how Black women are depicted by the media. Jesus, take the wheel.

Black men, Black people, can be whatever they want to be. We do not have to be uniformed. Of course, Black culture (culture in general) connect all who subscribe, but it does not dictate. We should all be individuals and be accepted in whatever condition we come in.

So, The Dream, do what you do no matter what they say. Kanye, you too. Don't let them silence your art. Don't let them stop seeing you as Black men, but change, for the little Black boys after you, what it means to be a Black man so that we include everyone's style and expression.

Back to reality, regardless of what anyone says, I'm going to marry The Dream, or at least have a summer fling with him. Or he could just give me a hug and read this blog son.

Wasted Space

"Walking on the Moon" by The Dream

I love The Dream. His music is so amazing and it is so different. Hip hop is really buggin' right now. I hate what I hear on the radio. Even the R&B is saddening.

The Dream, Keri Hilson, Chrisette Michele, and Kanye West need to work on some musical mending because our music is taking on a semblance of idiocy.

Imprison Souljah Boy Tell 'Em.

I broke my phone, finally. And filed an insurance claim and was sent another one. It is also a Samsung Glyde, the newer version son. Dope.

The other phone was so frustrating. And this new version allows for more manual manipulation of icons and applications. It loads faster and it listens to me. I got stuff.

It is a little disappointing however because none of my ringtones could be transferred. Oh well.

There is music elsewhere.

My old lady apologized to me. She bought me chocolate and made my favorite breakfast yesterday. It made me upset mainly because I wanted to stay mad at her. She never, ever recants or apologizes or even slightly suggests that she could have been wrong. Therefore it was only right that I ackowledge it.

And I am trying. She is not a horrible person. She is just still angry (like I still am) and she has a bad temper which allows her to say very mean things that I don't think she always means.

That said, it doesn't heal me. It hurt my feelings enough to remind me that I have never had her sympathy and frustrated me into submission. It will always be this way. She will always be this way. We will always have very different versions of this same production. So I won't share my version anymore and won't ask for hers either.

Lastly, dammit, my mouth. Usually, my mouth causes me trouble as the relayer of my thoughts. Now, it hurts. My adult teeth came in later than usual. My wisdom teeth have only appeared in the last few years. It hurts when they protrude, but it is resolved quickly. That is what I thought this was. It's not. I have been in pain for over a week, the gums around the wisdom tooth on the right are highly inflamed, I can't chew on the right side and even the chewing on the left has to be slow and soft (so that my food is not being chewed that well), smiling, swallowing, or any strenuous movement of my mouth is painful. The general bullsh*t.

I have been awakened by the pain for the past 4 nights now and must take some Tylenol Extra Strength in order to return to my slumber. This morning was the last damn straw. I went to the dentist office that our insurance has suggested and made an appointment for 4:30p this afternoon. This dentist better be Jesus of Dentistry and make it good or I will take out the right side of my mouth by myself.