The semester is coming to a close and I feel like I'm loosing it. I know... what happened to the tranquil crash I just experience over the past few days during Thanksgiving? I hate to admit this to myself, but I saw this coming. My heart was in the right place to work on projects and assignments during the break, but my body nor my brain would allow me. So I pushed myself all day Monday to complete what needed to be done by Tuesday...leaving me to complete what needs to be done by tomorrow.
Tomorrow. Last day of classes as well as the launch date for the magazine. I'm helter skelter right now. Trying to gain balance.. and failing. Either STILL too tired to be organized enough to accomplish things in a timely manner or I'm subconsciously procrastinating. I literally said the other day.. I'm tired of thinking intellectually. I need to just be dumb for a few days to give my brain a rest.
What's odd is I've NEVER been an emotional eater. Normally when I'm this stressed, or a bit lost about something my stomach is too tied in knots to eat. If I even try to eat it will barely stay down. I have to force myself to get it down or else.... a pukey mess. However, this time it's different. I feel myself eating just as I'm thinking of a game plan or strategy on how to attack the assignment at hand. Maybe it's in part because there are hearty Thanksgiving leftovers in the fridge along with a rich deep dark chocolate layered cake I made. I do feel "it's that time" as well since I've been eating up the chocolate in the house. Nevertheless, I'm paying for all the chocolate intake via the acne appearing on my face now - yeah I breakout when I over indulge with the chocolate.
Besides the final exams coming up in another week, the final papers I have due soon and even the launch of the magazine, I have another added stress. For the past fews weeks I've in talks with a popular local paper for an internship position. Things seemed to be rolling along ok, but I'm left anxious as I await their final decision. I first spoke with the publisher who seemed to be impressed with my cover letter and resume. Though she thought I would be a good fit for the position, she turned me over to the assistant managing editor. I met with the editor a few weeks later and at the time I thought we got off to a good start. Yet, part of my nervousness now is as I reflect I wonder if I was too comfortable during the quasi-formal (informal?) interview and a bit too familiar. *big sigh*
Still I walked away from the interview with a mission to do. The editor wanted me to audition (sorta speak) by having me come up with a topic to write about for one of their blogs and write up the story/blog. I did the story, plus took pictures. I submitted everything on Thanksgiving Eve. Last night I sent a follow up email to inquire about the status of my submission and their final decision. I received a response thanking me for my submission and that they were still interviewing other candidates.
So I wait.
Bite my nails, take a hit of the chocolate cake, stumble over words in my academic papers, bite my nails some more, take shot of cornbread and sausage stuffing, bit my nails, sleep, wake up to work on papers, say a prayer or two.. then a few.
It's mine.
Originally written November 17, 2009 for Creative Writing with T. Medina.
Obsession and Reverence*
By: Mahoganie Jade Browne
he was taught to pray three times a day.
Sunrise. Afternoon. Dusk.
Sometimes East. Sometimes West.
No true religion.
Just fun and games.
Until…
he stubbed his toe.
Lost everything to friend and foe.
Bare.
Cursing.
he walked away, feeling forsaken
Thinking.
he did his share of proper worship.
Asking.
What had he done to trigger what he had wrought?
No reflections in the dark.
No echo.
No sound of his own breathing.
The open space rang loud and clear.
Empty.
Like his prayers.
Suddenly playing church wasn’t an option anymore.
*Title taken from Lloyd McNeill’s painting “Obsession and Reverence” (1963) currently on display at Howard University’s School of Fine Arts Art Gallery.
It's a struggle to get these thoughts out. I convinced myself I needed to write to get me going again. Since Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, I've been feeling as if I've been in a daze. As if my body and mind has reached it's highest level of excitement and activity that it can't do anymore...at least not at this time. Still I have four more papers to complete before the close the of the semester, plus some editing and writing duties for the publication that is officially launching.. err ummm this week!!! (EEK!)
I didn't realize how busy and how truly drained I have been since August. From writing two to three papers just about every week, to writing creatively for Medina's class and even throwing in some journalism duties PLUS coming home to take care of whatever issues there, I should be half out my mind. Still I'm in tact. A long time ago this would have drowned me. I would have given in to defeat and sat on the sidelines, again prolonging my "college career." But a force stronger than me has kept me afloat. I've just lived up to my end as far as the work goes.
This year I didn't formulate any real thoughts on Thanksgiving. I was just thankful for the second year in a row that the "Ides of November" wasn't looming - death, depression, sickness, over blown drama - and I was able to spend Thanksgiving with the ones I love. The day after met me with an incredible body crash. I managed to get up early with the Snickerdoodle and give her breakfast and watch her favorite shows with her. However, for the most part I stayed on the couch with one eye on the Snickerdoodle as she played and another trying to talk me into a full fledge sleep. Stayed away from my computer and for the most part my Blackberry; though I did send and received a couple of text messages. I did get a couple of cat naps in, but once the Snickerdoodle was in bed for the night, I wasn't far behind.
I slept a deep, dreamless sleep. The best.
Saturday met me with such energy. I knew I still had work to complete, but the computer just didn't appeal to me. I didn't fret over it at all. I spent the day helping my father dig out Christmas decorations and few other items from the storage shed. I did find a few goodies that once belonged to me as a kid that I'm now giving to the Snickerdoodle.
So this red chair was wrapped up and towards the back of the storage shed. Apparently my grandfather gave this to me when I was about 2 or 3 years old. Of course I looked it and said the Snickerdoodle had to have this. She saw it and couldn't wait to sit in it.
Then there was my "Dressy Bessy" doll; the doll that helps you understand how to zip, button, snap and tie. I think this was my favorite find for the Snickerdoodle. After I gave Bessy a good spin around the washing machine, to brighten her up, the Snickerdoodle hasn't been able to put her down. She loves this, which is a bit of shock to me. Usually the Snickerdoodle doesn't play with dolls at her. She's more for toys with actions and that makes noise. Then again, with Bessy there is action as you zip, snap, tie and button.
By the end of the day I was tired. My whole body ached. Energy was gone. I took a bubble bath and headed straight for the bed. I was nearing my deep sleep when the Snickerdoodle awoke in the middle of the night. For whatever reason she wasn't trying to go back to sleep. She wasn't ill, but I knew she too was tired having a long day playing outside. Still she fought sleep and made space in my bed for her, her blankie, and Bessy. I made several attempts for her to go back to sleep, but none was working.
Soooooo.
We had an impromptu slumber party as we watched a couple of movies on OnDemand Shrek and Sesame Street's Follow That Bird (a classic from my generation when I was like... 5) The Snickerdoodle stayed up and watched both movies and still fought to go back to sleep. Nevertheless by 4:30 am she was too tired to fight and my body felt like it wanted to slap the crap out of me for not sleeping. Once I knew for sure the Snickerdoodle was sleep (in her own bed), I collapsed back into my bed, falling into a deep repose until the house phone rang around 8 am. Then my cell phone rang no later than that.
I hit ignore for both calls and went back to sleep.
My body and mind had grown just that tired. Even now.. as it's only inching towards 3:30 in the afternoon, my bed seems to be calling. Just one more day of sleep and I'll be ready to finish out the last week of classes and the next week of a final exam, plus the last two papers that are due.
Within the past few weeks, Medina has been pressing the class to go deeper with our writing. The first couple assignments were reactions pieces or poems/prose we were to construct based on artwork by an African-American artist we individually choose. There was an "I Am From..." assignment where we have to look within and create a piece illustrating where we are from and then there was the one due today; the soundtrack of your life.
When the "soundtrack" assignment was given, immediately I thought back to the tag line I created for my blog years ago.
"A Melody In Search of a Lyric."
How convenient this would come to mind? At the first opportunity I got I wrote down: I'm a melody. Everyone that enters my life one way or another is a lyric...creating a neverending bittersweet symphony.
The whole weekend I pondered over it more. Eventually last evening I sat down and began listening to music. Somehow Alicia Keys' latest single "Doesn't Mean Anything," struck a cord that caused my thoughts to flow. I began writing. What I ended up with I presented in class.
In Search Of….
By: Mahoganie Jade Browne
A melody in search of a lyric.
Deaf to the harmony already rumbling in the background.
Blind to the words facing her.
A Bittersweet Symphony she was escaping.
“We got your sex and your violence. Melody and Silence.”
Being a Soulful Moaner, she wailed.
Most times out of a lustful fit that soothe the pain.
Other times out of the need to be.
Always looking to others to write her song; from Donnie crooning on about A Song For… “Her” to taking on the Shapeshifter’s Theme to Lola and rewriting it Blackveleteen’s Theme knocking off Lenny.
It’s just as Springsteen and Manfred Mann’s Band said, she was Blinded By The Light.
A melody in search of a lyric.
Stumbling onto a blank score.
Unknowingly setting the time signature to a never ending composition.
From six-eight to four-four.
From the blue note to the highest praise pitch.
Perhaps rococo
Never a strophic.
Vivid rhythms conjuring faces.
Attracted to the distinct flow.
Co-writing the symphony of her life.
The room fell silent for a minute and then heads nodded in agreement. I could tell everything was thinking, but didn't know what to say. Medina cut the silence by asking me to read it backwards.....
Co-writing the symphony of her life.
Attracted to the distinct flow.
Vivid rhythms conjuring faces.
Never a strophic.
Perhaps rococo
From the blue note to the highest praise pitch.
From six-eight to four-four.
Unknowingly setting the time signature to a never ending composition.
Stumbling onto a blank score.
A melody in search of a lyric.
It’s just as Springsteen and Manfred Mann’s Band said, she was Blinded By The Light.
Always looking to others to write her song; from Donnie crooning on about A Song For… “Her” to taking on the Shapeshifter’s Theme to Lola and rewriting it Blackveleteen’s Theme knocking off Lenny.
Other times out of the need to be.
Most times out of a lustful fit that soothe the pain.
Being a Soulful Moaner, she wailed.
“We got your sex and your violence. Melody and Silence.”
A Bittersweet Symphony she was escaping.
Blind to the words facing her.
Deaf to the harmony already rumbling in the background.
A melody in search of a lyric.
Almost in unison the class let out whispers of excitement and approval. Even I couldn't hide the fact that the words were more like me... a bit abstract, yet a bit transparent. A living metaphor.
It took everything within me not to cry in their presence. My life.. plain as day...
First, we're happy to announce that the team has identified and fixed the issue with the YouTube conduit; you can now find and add videos from YouTube to your library and posts. As always, thanks for your patience!
The other news we have today is about a new addition to the Six Apart family: TypePad Micro, a new free level of TypePad that is streamlined for microblogging. We see a new form of blogging emerging that lives between the quick status updates of Twitter and Facebook and the long-form posts of "classic" blogging; TypePad Micro is designed to meet that need. You can read more about TypePad Micro in Chris Alden's post on the Everything TypePad blog.
A lot of the new capabilities we've added to TypePad this year were actually inspired by some of the best things about Vox: favoriting, member profiles, a dashboard to follow other bloggers, and easy ways to post content from other social media sites. But the things that make Vox different from TypePad are still there: Vox has always been -- and still is -- the best place for "friends and family" blogging, where you're in control over who sees what. TypePad, on the other hand, is built for the blogger who wants, no, craves, attention.
Do you have a passion or interest you want to share with people beyond your Vox neighborhood? If so, we'd love it if you tried out TypePad Micro. Maybe you've always wanted to start that obsessive blog that's just about waffle restaurants. Or want a place to share videos of your favorite band (Jonas Brothers, anyone? Anyone? ...). TypePad Micro's great for those topic-specific blogs. Take it for a spin and let us know what you think.
On the Vox front, our designers are working on some cool new themes (coming soon!). We'd also love to hear your thoughts about where we should take Vox in the coming year. What are the key things you'd like to see for Vox? If you've had a chance to use TypePad this year, what are the features there that we should bring over to Vox? And, if you're thinking big thoughts, how could we connect the Vox and TypePad communities in order to bring together bloggers and their shared passions? Your feedback is really important to us, so please leave a comment here, or shoot me a message.
And again, thanks for your patience as we found and fixed the YouTube bug!
~ daisy
As many of you have noticed, the YouTube Conduit is not working. I am so sorry about this; I know how frustrating it is.
The team is looking into how to get this fixed and I will update you as soon as I hear something. In the meantime, not all is lost... There is a work-around for posting videos.
When you're in the Compose Screen, just click on "embed." Ignore the fact that it says "Widget" before everything because you can definitely use this to embed videos as well. You'll just need to input the embed code from the video, enter a title (if you want) and hit OK.
It might not show up perfectly in your compose screen, but when you hit "Save," your video should appear just the way you wanted it to.
Hopefully this will allow you to keep posting videos while we figure out what's happening on our end.
As always, thanks for your patience.
One of the hardest lessons that I've learned - and still reminding myself of - is that I'm worth it.
It's been on my heart and mind to sit down and talk with my aunt. I love my aunt, even in the midst of her flaws. After all, who am I to judge. Yet, it saddens me that at her age (she's edging closer to 50) somewhere deep down she doesn't feel like she is worth it. Granted, it's not my job to "fix it," but Lord knows I wish I could. I wish I could open her eyes to a lot of things about her self worth. Ironically, some of it is partly what she has inspired on me or shown me.
My own lessons of self worth developed before I had my daughter. I attracted quasi-decent guys; meaning I always looked at their social status, figured in how they would "complete" me (sorta speak) while carrying the "independent woman" sign with the disclaimer "I just want someone to love and be loved in return." Just when I had over extended myself by doing everything for them but jump through a hoop of fire baring a neon sign that says "pick me! I'm the one.." a disconnect would occur. Most of the time I was glutton for punishment and kept trying to force a connection when it was obvious it wasn't even a dial tone on the line.
Since becoming a mom it just seems like the wool has been pulled off my eyes and I see a lot of BS that floats around when it comes to people and relationships. I'm not claiming expert status. Far from that, but just the basic level of obvious bull - who really has time for that? Not I. Still what would it take for my aunt and so many other grown women to see the obvious and not accept it?
I wanna talk now, but things are hot....tense. She won't listen. I need a time to catch her off gaurd. So she has nowhere to hide to and no choice but to listen. Yes, it's time for the aunt to listen to the niece for a change.
All this over a man, that isn't trustworthy and has caused more harm to the FAMILY than good.
Friday Night.
Georgetown...
Opening Night for Foto Week DC. Drinks pouring. Beautiful people around. Me and Kel conversing and bumping to the ecclectic mellow mix of house music. Tasty spread of hor'dorves. Floating from one gallery to the next. Photography on display at five different galleries. New York, Cuba, Uganda, AIDS, 9/11, DC school children, the normal, the interesting. Topics are soft to intense. Chocolate doorman on gaurd. Looking to be Secret Service. Our eyes lock. Smiles exchanged. Ahhhh. I'm taken. Night fall air. I'm without much care. Celebrating Kel's job offer from earlier in the day. Me? Celebrating life and perhaps the realization graduation is closely becoming a reality.
Unknown hours pass. We have to keep it moving.
Adams Morgan...
Posted up at Soussi. Mediterranean feel. Added company. An Andre 3000 twin. Glasses, Suit, criss cross red and white strip shirt. Tie. Socialite, business man, fellow Bison. Good friend of Kel. Old School Hip Hop. Whatcha know about Lords of the Underground? Camp Lo? Tribe Called Quest? Martinis flowing. Paella tasting great. Black, White, Mediterranean, etc. taking hits from choosen hookah. Conversing about politics, current personal biz, straight up business. Pass the business cards to him, him and her. Another epic center or nerve where the bohemians of all backgrounds collab.
Again, unknown hours pass. We have to close tab and keep it moving.
The Triangle...
Andre 3000 Twin leads us to a mini after party. His connects is with Ozios. Club shuts down at 2 am, but a core group of Ethiopians still partying, including the connect. Someone got engaged. Champange flowing. Dancing in full effect. White guy comes over. Introduces himself. Said that he noticed Kel and I come in and thought we were the sexiest ones in the place. A line? Yes. Still, all he wanted was a dance. How could I refuse?
Unknown time passes. We shut it down.
Benning Ridge...
Home. Lured to sleep by the sounds of Papi's voice who called to make sure I got home ok.
Go forth and fill your libraries with media.
Seriously, thanks to everyone for being so amazing and patient. You are the reason I love Vox.
I was just told that the Amazon Conduit will be fixed by tomorrow. I will post here as soon as I get word that it's back up and running.
I know this has been frustrating and I am sorry there wasn't more I could do to make it less so. I really appreciate your patience though.
Cheers,
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