I’m Not Superman…

*warning-excessive use of the word “titty,” so SUCK IT UP BUTTERCUP!

The negative stigma that surrounds small breasted women is undeniable.  As a sufferer of itty bitty titty discrimination, I can tell you first hand the ridicule is relentless.  Everywhere you turn larger breasted women are flaunting their over sized cha-cha’s to the world making those of us lacking in the chest department curse God for forgetting to bestow upon us proper womanly assets.  There was even one time that I am ashamed to say I seriously considered breast implants as a remedy to my problem once I came of age.  Seriously…breast implants!  Hallelujah and thank-you Jesus that I came to my senses.  There is absolutely nothing wrong with having small tits.  Does having little ones make me less of a women?  Well I still got a va-jj so I guess that theory fails.  Sure, somebody else’s big boobs may look nice.  But guess what, they’ll look even nicer when they’re hangn down to their knees 20 years from now.  Seeing as I’m an athlete, my small titties work out great for me.  Don’t gota worry about them uncomfortably bouncing all over the place when I run.  Zero back problems.  People actually look me in the eyes when they talk to me.  And besides, thanks to the fantabulous gluteaous maximus’ of Jlo and Beyonce, it’s all about the booty baby.  And thankfully the Good Lord has blessed me in that department.  So nothing against you Scarlet Johnasson’s out there, ya’ll look good.  But too my ladies with the itty bitty titties, keep your head up cause you’re beautiful too and don’t let any of those Double Ds tell you otherwise.

So I’m going to come right out and say it, my search for the medicines was void of absolutely any meaning at all.  Yes, I do realize that the point of this assignment was to make it all “herojourney” -ish and zen-like, but I just went for the ones that I could figure out, which ended up being nearly all of them.  When Ms Haffley first gave us the assignment, my very first thought was “Oh crap, this is gona blow and suck all at once in the worst way imaginable.”  This is because even though the teachers at Brebeuf are all mostly quite friendly and easily accessible, I had never made it a regular practice to make use of these advantages, thus I didn’t have very many, “teacher friends.”  Because of this fear, I very nearly latched onto a group of people that were going to find the first medicine, Courage.  It was a big group of at least 7 people all rushing out of the room after the bell rang, and yes, in this particular instance I became a follower, not even attempting to the figure out the clue myself.  If I had sat down and given some thought to figuring out the clues instead of settling into a case of scary teacher syndrome, I would’ve realized that many of the members of the Brebeuf staff to which the clues were referring to, I knew.  But instead, I opted to trail along behind the swarm of people, who I very quickly realized were making a beeline towards Mr Hicks office, a teacher that I would’ve felt completely comfortable approaching myself (btw, Hicks is AMAZING!).  My first encounter inspired me to stop being such a baby and figure out and retrieve the rest of the clues on my own, which I did, with two exceptions.  One being the two girls that I encountered on my way to pick up the Integrity, who gave me a hint as to where to find the medicine, and Mrs Compton, who all but told me where to look to find Faith.  However, as I stated before, the purpose of symbolism was completely lost on me and after catching my stride I opted to find as many as I possibly could.  I figured out all but Insight (I was later told where it was but guilt held me back from going to get it) but only got 10 out of the 15, mostly because after a marathon of clue chasing during my lunch break, all my competitive spark had died and I couldn’t muster enough fire to want to go and get any more.  The medicines that I was able to get before sputtering out were, in the order that they were listed on the assignment sheet: Courage, Compassion, Discernment, Humor, Joy, Heart, Patience, Perseverance, Wisdom, and Integrity  Now by complete coincidence I happened to end the race on my lucky number 10.  But all it did was instill the already present belief that everything in my life happens to revolve around that number.  Really though, I graduate in the year 2010, as well as turn 18, which also happens to be my golden birthday (my bday is April 18th) and the golden bdayof bothof my brothers (birthdays: March 12 and November 29, both turning 12 and 29 in 2010), my most used name is ten, and I was born at 10:30a.m.  Coincidence?  A subconscious desire to complete everything on that number because I think it holds some mystical importance? Or is it just God in action?  I took the liberty to look up the symbolism behind the number 10.  According to Wikipedia’snumerology page the number means rebirth.  And vic.australis.com says that the ten represents the perfection of divine order, and stated examples in the bible such as the ten commandments and the ten righteous people found in Sodom and Gomorrah.  So basically, this assignment all leads back to the belief that I will receive my super powers in the year 2010:)

Up until this movie I believed that I was a hobbit. Heck I’m short enough, and if being short gives me the bonus of having tall bearded magical friends and a kick butt all powerful ring around my neck, I’ll take it. And don’t get me wrong, Lord of the Rings is still one of the best movies ever, a timeless classic, and one of my favorites. But after stumbling upon a bootleg version (for those of you that don’t know yes it was an illegal copy. As if you’ve never done it) “Slumdog Millionaire” a couple of weekends ago, this movie has invaded my heart, and my Ipod playlists. “Slumdog” is about a young man who is a contestant on the popular Indian version of ‘Who Wants to be a Millionaire.” After being suspected of cheating, he is taken into by the police and first is tortured, then questioned into explaining how a “slumdog” like him, could’ve possibly known the right answer to so many questions. He then goes on to explain the backstory behind the answer to everyone of those questions, and how knowing the answers shaped his life. The way they unfold the life of this man is ingenious, such a creative and refreshing way to tell a tale, like peeling back the petals of a flower, at first seeing the innocent beauty, then there’s nothing left but the cold and naked core. “Slumdog” is a movie you fall in love with. With enough funny, sweet, serious, sad, and frightenlingly honest moments to make up 10 different movies, it never feels like too much or overkill. And the characters, starting from youth and following them through the years, are so pure in there portrayal that you can’t help but fall in love with them as well. It’s no surprise that it swept the award season, winning best picture at the Golden Globes and the Oscars. But if you see the movie make sure to stick around for the credits cuz ther is one kick a** song that’ll have you singing JAI HO (may you win) from the theater all the way home.

Sometimes I wonder to myself, whats the point of writing these weekly posts, I mean beyond the grade of course. Or perhaps the real question is what’s the point of spending time thinking about a real, well-thought out, passionate post, when no one’s even looking at my blog, or the small amount that do are just breezing by, glancing at the page looking for any funny Youtube videos. And out of the 3 people that actually do read my posts, perhaps one is actually understanding what I’m really trying to get across. What a great thing I thought this was gona be when we started out. An ample oppurtunity to finally get my point across to the masses of people who had only formerly known me as the token black girl sitting in the outskirts of the room, eyes glistening with the tell tale sign of daydreaming in class instead of paying attention. At last, God has bestowed a place for me to get my point of view across about the N-word, Disney movies, stupid people that french kiss dogs, so on and so forth. But seeing as the only people that read my posts are me myself and i, I guess I’ll just talk about the weather…PSH, JUST KIDDING! even if people aren’t reading my material, it’s still a little therapeutic to rant about things of little importance. So by the way, Lion King is the best Disney animated movie of all time and anybody that doesn’t believe that can suck it:)

…cuz it’s black history month (woot woot) and in celebration I would like to post the video for the inspirational song “A Dream” by Common.  Maybe you’ve heard of it, it was the background music for the powerpoint i played at the mlk convo;)  But of course I can’t do this without getting my two cents in.  So why the heck is black history month the shortest month of the year.  So we’re gona be demoralized as less then human for hundreds of years as slaves, abused and mistreated as “equals”, and when we finally get a month, it’s the janked up one that only has 28 days.  Come on now, if you’re not gona give us 31, couldn’t we at least get a full 30?  But anyhow, enjoy the vid!

In my most recent stepping out with my usual hairstyle, braids, I had at least 5 people compliment me on my new, “ghettofabulous” hairstyle.” At least two of them used that exact word, others using variations.  Now why, just because I am an African American female who happens to do her hair in a particular way, is this fashion choice automatically ghetto?  I admit that some girls that happen to decorate their hair in the same way may sometimes be flamboyant, loud, opinionated and blunt.  But no white America, not all black people are the same.  So don’t be surprised if we don’t all follow the musical stylings of Lil Wayne, Lil Boosie, Lil John, Lil Bow Wow (o, excuse me, he’s going by Mr. Bow Wow now), or anybody else with the title “Lil.”  Even more surprising, we don’t all walk around holding up gang signs, greeting each other with a “yo yo man wats up,” so when trying to communicate with a black person, please don’t do this.  It’ll only make you look stupid.  No, not all black are absolutely in love with fried chicken and collard greens.  No, not all black girls have attitude and do the head roll, finger wave combination when mad.  No, not we’re not all good at sports. No, not all of us wear braids and doo-rags.  And if we do choose to braid our hair it does not, I repeat, DOES NOT mean that now we are automatically a shaquana, hoochie mama, ghetto fabulous trick.  And just because you got some cute “frenchies” put in your hair on your most recent visit to the Bahamas, please don’t run off to all your black friends, excitedly pointing at your new do and babbling about how you’re ghetto now.  The style may be cute, but making a big deal about it isn’t.  While on the subject, not everything slightly related to African American culture is ghetto.  Braids and big hoops, not ghetto.  Baby Phat and Apple Bottoms, not ghetto.  Sporting Tall tees and saggy jeans also does not make you ghetto.  You can throw on the most “bling”-ed out grill, have the biggest diamond pendant, and rap about whatever the heck you want, these things do not make you ghetto.  I don’t care who you are, wearing these things, while living in a 3-story “mansion” on west 86^th street once again, also makes you look stupid.  Ghetto isn’t how you act, or what you look like, or what you wear.  It’s not limited to the color of your skin, thus it shouldn’t be used as an adjective to describe a culture.  In fact, the term “ghetto” was originally used to refer to the Venetian Ghetto, a borough in Venice where Jewish people were forced to live.  The word today most commonly is associated with impoverished African American neighborhoods, segregated from the rest of the community.  I see the word as a negative, as it refers to a glass ceiling that many minorities are trapped beneath, struggling to break free and make a better life for themselves and their families.  It’s just one of the many ways that “the man” manages to hold back his lower class citizens.  So excuse me if I get a little fussy when people use this word to describe my hair style.

so ive just realized that being required to write a post everyweek is not as fun as i thot it would be. frankly i don’t have that much to say. surprised! yea, sry not everyone can blog for hours about mostly trivial things of no importance.

Yes yes, I know that the year isn’t officially “new” anymore.  It has been 2009 for exactly 14 days now, yet I still feel as if I’m just settling into the swing of the things.  I’m sure that from now until midway through February I’ll still be dating my days in the year 2008.  But can you blame me?  2008 was such a momnumental year for so many different people and for various different reasons.  The beginning of the year started off with a bang, with a movie about a pregnant teenager being for an Oscar and the best picture catagory, and the sassy pregnant girl herself being up for the win of best actress.  No, Ellen Page did not win, nor did her movie, “Juno”, but it won over audiences everywhere.  Fast forward to the summer of ’08, and the Bejing Olympics are in full swing.  And yeah yeah, Michael Phelps did his thing, but the only thing that I was paying attention to was the track and field events, with the lightening bolt from Jamaica, Usain Bolt, shattering the 100 and 200 meter record.  2008 was a magnificent year that brougt us these miraculous sporting feats, two brand spanking new Brangelina babies (but they pop ‘em out every six months, so I’m sure we’ll be getting some of that this year as well), the death of one of Hollywoods brightest stars, who helped usher the return of a pop culture icon.  Three brothers, by the name of Joe, Nick, and Kevin took the world by storm, and one man changed the face of the nation forever.

But 2009 has nothing to look forward to in it.  No Olympics, no election, no supposed coming of the apocolypse, as is forecasted in the year of 2012.  Plus, my namesake year, my graduating year, the year I become an adult and the year of my golden birthday, 2010, is so close, yet so far away.  All in all, 2008 was a great year.  But 2009, and mean this in the nicest way possible, will be a waste of a year.

I’m going to come straight out and say it, I feel as if I was destined to do great things. I have this feeling deep inside me, embedded into my bones, etched into my soul, that I was put here on this earth for a reason. I have a purpose. The only hitch in my thinking this way is that do I believe that because I really am feeling an inkling of my greater purpose here on this Earth, or because that feeling is just an innate emotion, rooted into what it means to be human being? Perhaps this thinking is what separated us from the rest of creation, that little monster in the back of our head, telling us that we were destined for great things, and pushing us towards that goal. And if you examine the question in literal terms, everyone is technically here for a purpose. Whether it be insignificant or exceptional, good or bad, everyone, even babies that die before their time, made some impact somewhere in the world. So taking the definition into consideration, I can say without hesitation that I was put on this world for a purpose.
Now that that little kink is straightened out, now to answer to the real question, am I called to do something great, aka, will I be better than most people alive, the top 20 percentile at least. Well I don’t think of it in terms such as that, I mean no bodies better than anybody (at least that’s what you’re supposed to think). I just like to believe that I’m special. I go with the whole tri-ten theory, see it works like this: how many people are named a number? Not many right. And yea yea, Ten’s not my real name, but I use it more frequently than the whole thing, so it’s more “me” than Tenaugrie is. So because Ten is my name, the number 10 always does unusually good things for me. Going along with the number theory, the year 2010 is coming up pretty quick. And not only is it my “namesake” year, but it’s also my graduating year, the year I turn 18, the year of my golden birthday (my b-day’s April 18th), and the year I go to college. So clearly, alota big things are going in 2010 for me. Coincidence? So I’m thinkn that on October 10th, 2010, something extra big is going to go down. I don’t know what it is yet, but personally I’m hoping for superpowers. The point of this story is, yes I do believe I’m called to do something great. And I believe it will happen on 10/10/10. Got it down to the date and everything