Don't Leave a Voicemail

"A Change Would Do You Good" by Sheryl Crow


...God's little gift is on the rag / poster girl posing in a fashion mag / canine, feline, jekyll and hyde / wear your fake fur on the inside...

Today, I made my way to an open call at American Apparel.  I worked at Old Navy for about half a year when I graduated high school and I swore off retail...FOREVER.  Retail sucks.  However, my "full time" job is fakin' liiiiike...so I need another one so as to save up money.  My mother taught me that saving should be treated as another expense or bill.  Of late, I haven't been saving nearly as much as I should.

I was going to wrap up my teenie weenie afro (TWA) in a scarf and bun it up in the back.  I decided against it and decided to wrap the scarf around my ears and head and let the TWA show.  While waiting at the bus stop, a middle aged Black man stopped me and said that my hair was beautiful and he was so proud to see a sister out and about, rocking her natural hair.

I was elated, to say the least.  I know that my face is pretty, but the accessory that is hair has always augmented my beauty exponentially.  Without the long braids or the perm, I feel a little less pretty or at least less captivating.  I know that part of it is I haven't totally let go of the European aesthetic.  It's almost as if I lost a limb sometimes I have phantom pain/presence.  Sometimes I feel a wisp of something on my ear the way I felt when I had my braids in or when my hair was permed.  Other times, I feel the tightness around my forehead like I am wearing a ponytail when my braided curls get on my nerves.

But I am learning my hair is beautiful nonetheless, without the press or perm or extensions.  And, by proxy, I am beautiful too.

It was great to get that compliment.  And he also said that I was beautiful, apart from the hair.  And I was worried about that.  I am less pretty maybe?  But I am not.

I ran into a blog entry somewhere (I'll figure it out for you later) about the types of men this one young woman used to attract versus the men she now attracts with her hair natural.  She is a beautiful, young, vibrant Black woman too.  I have been thinking that (although I have been afraid to say it).  I have a feeling that the kinds of men I used to entertain would no longer entertain me, which is fine because none of them were worth my hate even.

I am excited about that.  I am excited, that more often, I will run into men (and they will be willing to approach me) that are more conscious, more intellectual, less about scheming, consumerism, fake hip hop, sagging pants, and getting the drawers!  Not that I want any of them, because I'm still uninterested in any men (and I am already betrothen to someone), but it will just be nice to experience a change in conversation and weed out the time-wasters.

I have to work on this African worldview #in2010 (you see how Twitter lingo is infiltrating my formal English?).

Diamonds, Boxite, & Rutile

"You Mean the World to Me" by Toni Braxton

...you mean the world to me / you are my everything / i swear the only thing that matters / matters to me...

To my 6 followers that occasionally read my blog, you should check on this entry periodically because I plan on continuously updating it.

Sunday night, I stayed with my Daddy following the Capital City Kwanzaa Festival.  I got home quite late, but stayed up to talk to my Dad for a while before he fell asleep.  We talked about how much I don't like my brother, homosexuality, whether of my friends is actually my boyfriend, culture, Africa, and the natural occurring minerals of Sierra Leone (hence the title).  It was a good conversation.  My favorite part of the conversation was about homosexuality.

It started when he asked me if one the friends I was hanging out with this weekend was actually my boyfriend.  We have been friends for a long time and he is definitely my best friend, so my parents hear his name often.

So my Dad asked "So, is he your boyfriend Zain?"

"Dad, he's gay."

"He is gay?!  How do you know that?"

**Blank stare.

"Now Zain, I want you to be serious here.  No joking.  Is he really a homosexual?"

**Loud, disruptive laughter.

"Do his parents know?"

"Yes Daddy.  They know."

"And he is still alive?"

**Loud, disruptive laughter.  "Yes Dad. I saw him today."

"Hmph.  America.  But you know what I think?  I think homosexuality is natural.  I don't think it is a choice."

We continued a long conversation about why homosexuality is such a big social issue, how common homosexuality is in the animal kingdom, how organized religion introduced the idea of homosexuality as a sin, how cultures take a long time to change ideology, etc.  He is such an intelligent man.  He was explaining all kinds of complicated anthropological changes that are evidence in linguistic tendencies.  He is sooo smart.  If I explained it to you, it would sound like gibberish, but he describes it in the most elegant and colorful way.

Then he started to discuss his "lesbians of convenience" theory.  In Krio, he said "I suppot dehn gay dem.  Bot dem titi dehn wey say den don ton tu gay?  Dehn titi dem, nah wen dem man dehn don balanse dehn, nah da tem dey dehn dey ton gay.  Noto gay natin! Hmph!"

That translates to:  I support the gays.  But those chicks that say that have turned gay?  Those chicks, it's when men have dealt with them [broke their heart too many times, frustrated them to no end], that's when they say they have turned gay.  They are not gay at all! African interjection!

I was dying.  I was laughing so hard.

So, I have decided to record conversations as the aforementioned described one from now on.  He is hilarious.  Wonderful father.

There's a Brown Girl in the Ring

"Lady" by D'Angelo

...don't think i don't see them looking at ya / all of them wishing they could have ya / and as a matter of fact, uh / a bunch of them are itchin' for you to scratch 'em...





Helloooooooooooo Dolly!

I am going to lock my hair.  I was talking to my friend Valerie, who just locked up her hair and she was explaining why she went ahead and locked her hair.

She said that she wants to make the positive changes of her life before the new year begins, just as she wants to rid herself of mess before the new year begins.

She said that a week ago and it has been a theme in my life toward this end of the year.  I am trying to clean up and restart things in my life.


I'm doing very well.  I am beating this depression thing and finding pockets of happiness in new things and new people.  I am changing while not even meaning to, just striving to live a life closer to harmony and justice.


My boyfriend doesn't like it.  This new life is giving me perspective, revealing to me what I need to be happy and settled, showing me what I deserve, guiding me on a path to healing and forgiveness...because I have a lot to heal from.  I am less vulnerable and more powerful.  I am less of a follower and more in control.


When he met me, I wasn't like this and he does not like it.  And because he does not like it, I am beginning to doubt him.  I feel I must doubt anyone who wants to curtail the progress I am making; who is not excited as I birth my happiness and nurse my purpose.


I am not being obstinate.  I am not being secretive.  And I don't much feel that I need to explain anything to anyone.  To those close to me, that I love, I am happy to include and inform them of the details of my life.  I am happy to.  But I am afraid of those who have a relationship with me, but do not accept any responsibility for anything that occurs in the relationship.


Harmony.  There just needs to exist harmony.  I figured out what I want to do with my life for right now and in the future.  I know what I want, not the material things.  I know what things, what relationships I want to exist in my life.  All of these things require that I work, which I am doing and will do.  And to do this work, I need focus, to be nourished, to be encouraged, to be in control.  I love him, but he is compromising my harmony.

I have compromised my harmony enough.  I have cheated myself enough.  I have made myself unhappy enough.  No one fights for me quite like I can.


This is the proper time to make myself be myself.  I am going to be the kinds of weird I allow people glimpses of all the time.  I am going to do things for myself and not for those I always imagine are watching.  As I wonder about their eyes, I forget about myself.

I'm going to be superwoman, listening to my ancestors lead the glittery way, a path informed by their lives but space enough for my autonomy.


Oh, I am going to be such a marvelous African woman in 2010 and thereafter.