Monday, September 29, 2008
Begin: Panic of 2008
Given the state of credit, and the fact that it's not likely to bounce back for awhile, I'm going to present Ale with an idea tonight that involves me paying for law school (assuming I get in) as opposed to taking out any more student loans. If it kills me, I don't want to sign any more loans, especially not in these times.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
The Miseducation of the Midwest and Pieces of a Broken Heart
Maybe it's changed. I recall there only being pop, classic rock, and country stations available on the radio in St. Paul. Perhaps there were more and I missed them because the signal wasn't strong enough there or I wasn't that into the bass and message hip hop was about then. Or maybe it was because the album dropped about 10 years ago when I was already in Cali and I was WAY more into the Backstreet Boys than I was Erykah or Lauryn even though I would jam to "Doo Wop" when it came on the radio.
A friend of mine from work yesterday migrated "The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill" and "Worldwide Underground", as well as a few other tracks and albums I'd either lost or simply never heard, onto my ipod. I listened to "The Score" yesterday while packing and can now officially join those who have been lamenting the breakup of The Fugees for so long. I'd heard a few tracks (including, of course, "Killing Me Softly", which you have to know if you're a Fugee devotee), but never the whole album. It makes my skin tingle. It makes me enjoy chores. It makes me appreciate Brooklyn.
"Miseducation" is gold. It's just pure gold. "Lost Ones" and "Ex Factor" bring the hype, the strength, the sense so many women should have but just don't. "To Zion" definitely made me rethink my current situation and decision and caused a slight bit of panic there on the train, considering I really didn't want to burst into the unceasing tears that are pretty par for the course lately. The album reinforces that hers is the voice I wish I had.
And India.Arie: Her music is God. It's just a lyrical, melodic incarnation of God. More than Lauryn can connect, she's the more spiritual, less "religious", motherly, chill of the two. At least in lyric. She's the aunt with the gentle hand, giving you positive feedback and feeding you some good food while telling you how much you need to value yourself and not let others determine your outlook. Lauryn's got a bit more tough-love in her. She's the aunt who gets Jamaican when someone hurts your feelings as a little girl, but tells you afterward to learn to defend yourself and not let that little bombaclaat get away without a pluck on the forehead.
God, the hunger never ends. After scrubbing my pots and pans to sparkling last night, I got home to Ale's mom with food semi-ready and a sweet man standing in the doorway. He went to the store and I went inside to drop off my things and on the bed was a pile of little-girl clothes for his daughter. My heart broke, immediately and completely. A million little pieces, catching in my throat and thudding into my stomach. I smiled and said "show me what you got," even though it tore me up inside and I think he knew. I think he understood, and that's all I can hope for. I would rather he have to understand something, anything, else, but I'm so in love with him simply because he can look in my eyes and get everything I really can't say about this.
California is less than a week away. Rebirth is near.
A friend of mine from work yesterday migrated "The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill" and "Worldwide Underground", as well as a few other tracks and albums I'd either lost or simply never heard, onto my ipod. I listened to "The Score" yesterday while packing and can now officially join those who have been lamenting the breakup of The Fugees for so long. I'd heard a few tracks (including, of course, "Killing Me Softly", which you have to know if you're a Fugee devotee), but never the whole album. It makes my skin tingle. It makes me enjoy chores. It makes me appreciate Brooklyn.
"Miseducation" is gold. It's just pure gold. "Lost Ones" and "Ex Factor" bring the hype, the strength, the sense so many women should have but just don't. "To Zion" definitely made me rethink my current situation and decision and caused a slight bit of panic there on the train, considering I really didn't want to burst into the unceasing tears that are pretty par for the course lately. The album reinforces that hers is the voice I wish I had.
And India.Arie: Her music is God. It's just a lyrical, melodic incarnation of God. More than Lauryn can connect, she's the more spiritual, less "religious", motherly, chill of the two. At least in lyric. She's the aunt with the gentle hand, giving you positive feedback and feeding you some good food while telling you how much you need to value yourself and not let others determine your outlook. Lauryn's got a bit more tough-love in her. She's the aunt who gets Jamaican when someone hurts your feelings as a little girl, but tells you afterward to learn to defend yourself and not let that little bombaclaat get away without a pluck on the forehead.
God, the hunger never ends. After scrubbing my pots and pans to sparkling last night, I got home to Ale's mom with food semi-ready and a sweet man standing in the doorway. He went to the store and I went inside to drop off my things and on the bed was a pile of little-girl clothes for his daughter. My heart broke, immediately and completely. A million little pieces, catching in my throat and thudding into my stomach. I smiled and said "show me what you got," even though it tore me up inside and I think he knew. I think he understood, and that's all I can hope for. I would rather he have to understand something, anything, else, but I'm so in love with him simply because he can look in my eyes and get everything I really can't say about this.
California is less than a week away. Rebirth is near.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Dreams of California
They spring up every once in awhile. I can't help it, really! I've been dying to get home (funny, five years removed and I still consider it "home") during this time of year for at least three years now. Because Mexico fell through, Alex said he'd buy me a ticket to wherever I wanted to go. I'm going to San Diego!
Got my LSAT books and am perusing the massive "lesson book." There are five of these things, and I think they weigh about 15 pounds altogether. I'm scoping a pretty new Adidas backpack that I can carry my gym/ soccer stuff in and haul these books around in, too.
This next month in particular is going to be hell; I can smell it. I need to work out a gym schedule (get it?). I'm hoping to finagle a membership to NYSC and possibly an employer's discount, which would enable me to go to the gym at any hour convenient. I'm pudgy :(
More LSAT lesson looking-over and then bed. Harumph.
Got my LSAT books and am perusing the massive "lesson book." There are five of these things, and I think they weigh about 15 pounds altogether. I'm scoping a pretty new Adidas backpack that I can carry my gym/ soccer stuff in and haul these books around in, too.
This next month in particular is going to be hell; I can smell it. I need to work out a gym schedule (get it?). I'm hoping to finagle a membership to NYSC and possibly an employer's discount, which would enable me to go to the gym at any hour convenient. I'm pudgy :(
More LSAT lesson looking-over and then bed. Harumph.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
September 4th is just not a good day... ever
I don't know what it is, but everyone who's ever had a really fun and special "everything I wanted" birthday makes me hysterically jealous.
Perhaps it's my current predicament, but I just don't want to be in New York for the day this year. Or really, for the week. And yet, I see my plans crumble from a week spent on some island surrounded by sparkling water, a la St. Lucia, to the prospect of spending it in a desert clime for approximately 4 days, and being in transit the day itself, the one aspect I asked not be the case.
I could list the birthdays I've had for the last 9 years and tell you what went wrong during them to make them less-than-awesome, but I'll spare you. For the record, last year's was pretty sweet until possessive/ jealous/ misplaced priorities (now ex-) boyfriend showed up and embarrassed me in front of millions. Or maybe just ten. But still. Oh right, and there's the issue that the party itself had to take place after my birthday (when is this not the case?) because I was in Canada with possessive/ jealous/ misplaced priorities (now ex-) boyfriend and we were spending the 4th on the car trip from hell: aka 9 hours squished in the very back of a minivan between the Chatty McChat twins without breaks or snacks or good music or fun of any kind. Needless to say I was mildly put-out.
So, I find myself emotional, tired, needing that sparkly water I miss so much, and something fruity serves out of a pineapple with a face made of fruit slices, and having to (possibly; we're not definite yet) settle for the desert, the only water around probably being the hotel pool.
Sigh. And with that hotel and its pool will come drama of a kind I have no desire to deal with on my birthday, but that it's impossible to avoid for very much longer.
I need a vacation. A long vacation, with a massage.
Perhaps it's my current predicament, but I just don't want to be in New York for the day this year. Or really, for the week. And yet, I see my plans crumble from a week spent on some island surrounded by sparkling water, a la St. Lucia, to the prospect of spending it in a desert clime for approximately 4 days, and being in transit the day itself, the one aspect I asked not be the case.
I could list the birthdays I've had for the last 9 years and tell you what went wrong during them to make them less-than-awesome, but I'll spare you. For the record, last year's was pretty sweet until possessive/ jealous/ misplaced priorities (now ex-) boyfriend showed up and embarrassed me in front of millions. Or maybe just ten. But still. Oh right, and there's the issue that the party itself had to take place after my birthday (when is this not the case?) because I was in Canada with possessive/ jealous/ misplaced priorities (now ex-) boyfriend and we were spending the 4th on the car trip from hell: aka 9 hours squished in the very back of a minivan between the Chatty McChat twins without breaks or snacks or good music or fun of any kind. Needless to say I was mildly put-out.
So, I find myself emotional, tired, needing that sparkly water I miss so much, and something fruity serves out of a pineapple with a face made of fruit slices, and having to (possibly; we're not definite yet) settle for the desert, the only water around probably being the hotel pool.
Sigh. And with that hotel and its pool will come drama of a kind I have no desire to deal with on my birthday, but that it's impossible to avoid for very much longer.
I need a vacation. A long vacation, with a massage.
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