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we can only get so much from someone else

© amy winehouse, “help yourself”

basically.

just cuz i look like i have it together, it doesn’t mean i actually do have shit together. & if i do in fact have shit together, it doesn’t mean i wanna help you get yours together. sorry.

** the clarity edit:

. . . if i do in fact have shit together, it doesn’t mean i’m obligated to help you get yours together. it’s this simple: if i see where i’m needed, i’ll pitch in. but if you’re chillin hard without my input & don’t seem to have enough good sense to work at improvement of your situation, i’m staying right where i am. sorry.

i feel very protective of my dreams right now.

i’m not sharing with too many folks. that is, i’m not talking to anyone whom i know to be negative or whom i know for a fact doesn’t really know me. i can stare into a person’s blank face every day for nearly 4 years (like i do at work with some ppl) & know that they’ve no clue about how to treat me. & i am, for all intents & purposes, my dreams. whatever i conceptualize, whatever i decide to become, that’s me. that’s where i’m headed if i’m not there already. & if that person should treat my developing self poorly then how can i ever expect her or him to be good to me once i arrive at my destination? that’s got to be im-fucking-possible. i’m not buying that jack-nicholson-as-the-joker smile & hands open only to make mincemeat from my most tender parts.
my dreams are not meant to be picked apart or turned into a frankenstein monster by anyone except me. there will be no opportunities for detractors to take from me or lessen my potency. there is not any good reason for me to take my brand new dreams out of my pockets to show to/ share with any person who isn’t also nurturing a dream. & i don’t mean simply thinking of something to do with the rest of her or his life — i mean someone who is actively putting together the pieces of that one thing they’re meant (or are trying) to do w/ the rest of her or his life. i’m tired of being exposed to folks whose uncertainty about their own places in the world serves as a platform (or a castle tower) from where they pass judgment on everyone else’s situation. that mess is sickening, anti-productive, & a huge waste of my time.
in short, i’m not having this bullshit for much longer. it seems that there’s a grillion ways to take the piss out of the good thing someone else has got going, but not as many ways to push that good thing along. anyone who’s well versed in the pushing along & forward movement is welcome.
all others may fall by the wayside. period. i am speaking power to my situation, regardless of what anyone has to do or say about it.

addendum:
mel, post this on your mirror or something. happy birthday. stay motivated, beautiful, & strong. i love you to pieces.

maferefun sango!!!

kawo! kabiyesile!

thank you, baba, for sending my brother my way. i love love love LOVE that boy to pieces. thank you. we are each other’s cheer leader, each other’s comic relief, & most importantly we have a taciturn understanding that can be expressed simply by the raising of an eyebrow. my brother is so sharp, too. thank you for bringing a sharply dressed black man around me, one who actually compliments me and means it. he is not trying to sleep with me (not that i know of). he is socially conscious, and gives a damn about his folks. he will entertain my conversations about all things sociopolitical, & never once calls me ‘too smart.’ we crack nerd jokes & he never, ever, EVER tells me i think too much/ too hard.

i’m blessed to have a friend like vsf. i love that crazy child. i do.

adupe.

my personal style is evolving.

big earrings & shawls are a given.
but now i’m realizing what kind of denim i like, what fits best, etc.

& we aren’t gonna talk about my footwear situation. i don’t like buying expensive ass shoes, but my feet/ posture require them. ergonomically sound shoes for work aren’t cheap. the heels i do like? not cheap. sneakers that don’t make my feet cry out in cramping? not cheap at all.

so i guess i’d better hustle this money up, right? lol. i was doing some figuring. there’s not one single pair of shoes or sneakers i’ve been checking out that cost less than seventy dollars. i remember back in the days of parade of shoes (remember them?), i was racking up on stuff i could wear to work. now, it’s like earth or dansko… or nothing. i hate that, kinda. naturalizer isn’t cheap. new balance? not cheap. & let’s not discuss my love of nikes, which has resurfaced just as i’m too busy paying bills to cop a new pair every paycheck. this is annoying, at best.

i went to lane bryant the other day, tryna find some jeans. first of all, these motherfuckers are charging $50++ for polyester tunics. since when is that okay? second, what’s the deal w/ everything having a stupid permanent cuff or crease? can i just get some regular straight leg average-length dark fucking denim? something that isn’t uber super show-the-crack-of-my-ass low rise? & maybe, just maybe, are there wide-legged dress pants that don’t have a full-on natural waist? i’ve got a short torso. that shit doesn’t look right on me. gah.

if i had a sewing machine & enough time, i swear . . .

sometimes it seems that my style is being guided by the companies that make the clothes. i love old navy’s more grownup looking clothing; they stopped selling it in stores so i’m forced to do my shopping inside. whomever decided to remove the plus sizes from the stores is pretty much an idiot. there are plenty women who’ve not been able to try on the plus sized clothes simply because there was a 2 year (or more) test period where only certain stores carried these items. if you aren’t generally certain how the clothes fit you, how on earth are you gonna feel comfortable/ confident buying the shit online? i’m hoping to turn to more indie designers, or smaller apparel companies in the future. right now, though, i feel bound by my amount of disposable income in addition to the dress code at my job. it isn’t terribly strict, but some things aren’t okay.

but, as my personal style evolves, i’m better able to make smart choices. i know where to find the $10 jeans at ross and the cleverly hidden perry ellis trench coats at burlington. ;)

bargain fashionistas, stand up! i know it’s not right — someone probably lost their finger trying to make the anorak i just bought — but until i find better quality plus clothes in the thrift stores i frequent, & until i start making my own clothes, this is how it’s gonna be.

i haven’t been saying thank you

quite the way i should.

so let me put it like this here:

thank you everyone & everything on this here entire planet, in the universe, that ever was or will be.

thank you.

period.

i just had a great idea for a blog entry

when i was in the shower. something about how i’m realizing that people give academics & whomever else deemed as ‘experts’ all the power when it comes to discussing situations that they live every day.

on some, “how dare you question your doctor/ boss/ landlord/ the police/ anyone who’s got a higher degree than you (or a degree period)?”

granted, i know absolutely nothing about being a dentist so i follow my dentist’s instructions, but not without asking why or what certain procedures do.

*sigh*

i guess i’ll go back to bed & pray that these thoughts come back asap.

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