Dear Summer...

The school year is finally over and the highly anticipated (for most) summer vacation is here. I do need a break from writing papers, studying for tests, and never sleeping and am looking forward to it. I think I will miss the relative peace of our small Staten Island campus compared to my hometown, but I can survive a few months away from it. I admittedly will not miss all of the rumors and disputes that come along with being a part of a small campus community but I promised myself that next year, I will not succumb to any of it and will be above it all.

I will not relax completely because I will still have a full time job and will still be a full time mother but I am looking forward to the bonding time with my daughter as well as the non- work study paychecks. I am hoping to come back next year with a new attitude, a new sense of determination, and a renewed scholarship. Looking back, I believe that everything that happened during my freshman year here has happened for a reason and it will make me a better person during my next three years of undergrad.

There are so many things that I can say but yet so little that I can put into words. In short, I will miss all of the wonderful people I have come into contact with and hope to see them again next semester and wish those who will not be returning the best of luck. I want to congratulate the class of 2008 which includes my big sister, Renee. Congrats, Big! Finally, I want to say, not goodbye, but see you later to everyone whether they be friends or foes. Hasta próximo tiempo...

When I Cry, You Cry...We Cry Together

Someone once told me, "When it rains, it is God's tears and someone, somewhere is in pain. The rain is the Lord's way of crying with them." Who is God crying for today? Maybe he is crying for those who have lost someone...my sister,Trish, who is having a wake today for her grandfather who passed away. Rest in peace. Maybe he is crying for those motherless children who are wondering why their parents abandoned them. Those who are bouncing from home to home in the foster care system as well as those recently adopted who just realized that they, in reality, may never see their biological parents again. The tears might be for my adopted siblings: Amir, Myaisha, and Kaleema. They went from asking everyday when they could see their mother again to never asking at all though I still hear them mention her in their bedtime prayers. Maybe the Lord is crying for my daughter whose father was not present when she took her first steps, when she opened her first Christmas present, or when she blew out the candles on her birthday cake for the first time. She will be three soon and still has not met him. She probably never will. The Lord may be crying for those who woke up this morning feeling as if the last thing that they had to hold on to is suddenly gone and that they are now grasping thin air, searching for some source of comfort. Or maybe, just maybe, my God is crying for me...me, who let situations beyond my control dictate my actions and my future. Me, who allowed outside stress to affect my performance in work and school and is having trouble frantically trying to piece everything back together. Yes, maybe the Lord is crying with me...

Juno Know

Since I have basically become a prisoner to food poisoning these past few days and have trouble sitting up and doing much of anything, I decided to catch up on movies. One of my sorority sisters took pity on me and came over to keep me company and join in on my movie marathon. She brought over Juno, which I have been wanting to see for a while now because of the rave reviews it has received. I was curious as to what could be so amazing about a movie that involves a sarcastic, pregnant sixteen year old. I did not enter into the experience with very high expectations and the way the movie began did not raise them at all. It started off with Juno, the title character, reminiscing about her first sexual experience, which occurred in an armchair. She then made her way to a store to take a pregnancy test which, of course, was positive. Apparently, the guy who fathered the child was a friend who she had just engaged in sex with because she was bored. Hmmm... Anyway, after discussing the situation with a female friend, Juno decided to get an abortion. She went to the clinic and was waiting to receive the procedure but changed her mind. Predictable.

The movie took an unexpected turn when Juno decided to give the baby up for adoption when it was born but wanted to hand-pick the adoptive parents. After finding some good candidates in the penny saver (whatever that is), Juno told her parents about the unexpected pregnancy and the decision she had reached in regards to it. Though they would have much rather dealt with their teenage daughter having a drug habit, they took the news of the pregnancy in stride and decided to support Juno. She and her dad went and met the prospective parents and signed an agreement with them to give them the baby at birth. Throughout the course of the pregnancy, Juno forged a weird relationship with the prospective father. He ended up deciding to leave his wife and the plans seemed to be falling apart. I do not want to give away the ending but it was not as predictable as one would expect other than the fact that Juno ended up falling realizing she was in love with the child's father.

All in all, the story was heartwarming and it was a different look at the teenage pregnancy issue without involving a cheerleader or something along those lines. Juno's sarcasm and quick wit helped the movie along alot. I am still unsure if it deserved all of the hoopla that surrounded it but it is a movie worth watching.

Final Food Poisoning

Leave it to me to get sick during final exam week. As if I do not already have enough things to catch up on and have not fallen far enough behind...I managed to get food poisoning. The culprit? Our lovely school cafeteria.

I have been eating, at the most, one meal a day for the past few weeks because I do not really have much time to sit down and eat. On Monday, I had a little bit of time so I went to the cafeteria to eat before I met my tutor at the library to get a jump start on studying. I ordered a ham and cheese wrap because it was quick to prepare, quick to eat, and could count as a meal. I was feeling fine until half an hour into studying when I felt a migraine coming on. I laid my head down as I listened to my tutor talk, hoping that it would pass. It didn't. He could see that I really was not feeling way so he sent me home to rest and promised to meet me there when I was ready to resume studying. I woke up two hours later sans headache but now had stomach pains to deal with. I was determined to catch up on studying, however, so I called my tutor and we managed to get through half the material before things took a turn for the worse. I am not going to disgust everyone with the details but it was not pretty.

I went to the school nurse the next day, who confirmed that I had food poisoning and who also identified the cafeteria as the culprit. I was excused from the final that I had missed that same morning and was told that it should pass within 24 hours. It has been more than 24 hours and I'm still not feeling so hot. Needless to say, I have not bought anything edible from the school since. As the days pass, more of my friends are coming down with the same symptoms that I had. Should someone (maybe a health inspector) look into this? Definitely. Should everyone who got sick receive some kind of restitution? Maybe. Will we receive even an apology? Probably not.

CAUTION: Money and Fame May Cause Lack of Consideration and/or Loss of Humbleness

So, I actually took a night off from being me (mother, student, worker, etc.) to go to St. John's annual Spring Fling concert on the Queens campus. There were to be 3 performers: Mr. Vegas, Notch, and Keyshia Cole. I was there for the main attraction because I love Keyshia Cole as a performer. Of course, the concert did not start on time but I was not upset about it because it was my first concert ever and I was somewhat filled with a sense of euphoria. Though I am not very big on reggae and reggaeton most of the time, I even found myself singing along to all of those songs. I was so excited about seeing Keyshia Cole that I even fought myself through the sea of concert-goers to the third or fourth row in front of the stage. At that point, I didn't mind that I was standing, sweaty, and that the people next to me smelled...but all of that changed 2 hours later when Ms. Cole was still nowhere to be found.


It was almost 12:00 AM and we were still listening to music the DJ was playing because she hadn't shown up or, if she did, hadn't yet begun performing. Though this may sound selfish...that is not how I pictured spending my night off from working, writing, cooking, cleaning, and taking care of children. I was upset and by the time Keyshia did take the stage after 12 I was nowhere near as excited as I was at the start and I would have gone to take a seat had I still had the energy to fight my way back through the crowd. The performance was admittedly a good, high-energy performance. However, I was then and am still bothered by the fact that she was so late and came on stage with no apologies. I understand that, as a famous artist, she may have been very busy and things may have come up, but she knew she made an agreement to be there at a certain time and she wasn't but acted as if it didn't matter.

I will not sit here berating Keyshia Cole because I loved her songs before then and I still do. But I just hope that all of these artists out here remember that the little people made them who they are...everyone has to start at the bottom and work themselves up to the top and I, as well as others who support artists through song buying amongst other things, am giving them the extra push that they need in their climb to the top.

Coming From Where I'm From

I was born and have lived most of my life in Jersey City, NJ. While I have admittedly had some good times there, my place of residence is far from any one's ideal place to live and raise a family. Undoubtedly, Jersey City has always been a high crime area but recent occurrences have made me question why I don't just pack up my stuff and move anywhere that is far away from there.

Recently, there was a triple shooting mere blocks away from my house with two of the victims dying, one instantly and the other days later in a hospital. The only surviving one is in the hospital in stable condition but is unable to and/or uncooperative in identifying the shooter. Since the shooting happened on a Saturday on a busy street, there were many witnesses but no one is willing to come forward and help bring the murderer of two young men (one a father) cut down in their prime to justice. If that isn't bad enough, the mother of one of the murdered youths was arrested about a week later because she kidnapped a child, locked him in her basement, beat him, and attempted to suffocate him with a garbage bag. Why did she do all of this? Because the young boy's father broke up with her.

Very recently, a 13-year-old boy who was on home instruction was allowed back to school to take a mandatory standardized test and was caught with a gun after he set of the metal detector at the entrance of the building. Is it sad that even elementary schools need metal detectors now? Yes. But not as sad as it would have been if it was not discovered that the boy was carrying a weapon until it was too late. Now the boy is in the Hudson County Youth House awaiting arraignment. Though I am happy that he was caught before he was able to hurt anyone, I can't help but wonder where he could have possibly obtained the gun from and if he will have access to others in the future. But I guess we may never know and no one really cares enough to be bothered by that question because that is a common occurrence when you are coming from where I'm from...

It's A Man, Maury!

Despite the fact that I hate to see women degrade and humiliate themselves and their families on national television, I always end up tuning in to Maury if I happen to be near a television between the hours of nine and eleven. Most of the episodes are paternity tests, which have somewhat lost their novelty for me. There are only so many men that you can see a woman test for paternity of her child before it stops being funny and just becomes sad. There are also so many wild teenage girls I can see come onto the show before I get mad at their parents for letting them become that way rather than do everything in their power to help them make something better of themselves. One topic that still holds appeal for me, despite my frequent denials, is the shows where you have to guess whether a person is a man or a woman. It just intrigues me to realize that some of these men are more feminine than me and I wonder how many others they have fooled. I also give much respect to those who are actually women but are called men by audience members and still manage to keep a smile on their faces. I've tried over and over again and the best score I could get was 6 out of 10. I guess its better than most, though. What? Think you can do better? I'd like to see you try...

Spitzer's Slip-Up

"Behind every strong man, there is a strong woman." Everyone has heard this saying at least once in their lives. Women, especially in the public eye, have to smile on the outside while they are crying within. They have to present a stoic face to the world and put on a front as if everything is great in their world and it makes me wonder why they stay. Is it because they love being with a powerful man and the lifestyle it provides? Is it simply because, despite everything, they really do love their husbands and want to make it work? Or is it because they do not want to show weakness in the public eye?

Of course, I am referring to the recent controversy surrounding Governor Spitzer's tryst with a prostitute. It stirred up much controversy and, despite everything, his wife was there by his side providing support during his public apology even though he did not yet deserve her forgiveness let alone her support. Many people called her a fool as she stood there by her husband's side expressionless and unassuming. I guess what it all comes down to is, rich and powerful or not, anyone can be a fool for love.

Hazing Victim's Nightmare

This was the title given to an article in the Staten Island Advance about the suspension of the Sigma Chi Upsilon fraternity from St. John's University. I printed the article because i was going to use it as the topic of a Public Speaking speech but never did. I came across it as I was cleaning out my desk and began to think back to all of the controversy that surrounded the incident.

Everyone was made to cease with their pledging activities pending the investigation and many were scared away from the pledging process completely after hearing the story. Rumors were spread around that the President and Vice President of the fraternity would face criminal charges. The school asked everyone who was already Greek and those interested in joining a sorority or fraternity to attend speeches related to hazing. I was curious as to exactly what it was that set everything into motion so I went and did my own research.

As stated in the article:

"Ms. Harker alleges her son was made to walk backwards down stair on his knees, do push-ups--sometimes with someone on back--sit-ups and hold heavy objects for extended periods. He was slapped and held down by the neck when he foundered and also jabbed in the chest with a broom handle and thrown into a work bench, she alleges."

I have a good friend that is a member of the Sigma Chi Upsilon fraternity and, as much as I value his friendship, I cannot condone what he and his brothers took part in or allowed to happen. Things like this give a bad name to Greeks in general and validates the stereotypes that people outside of the Greek community give to us. I wear my letters proudly and am passionate about my sorority despite the fact that I was never hazed. Though I understand the concept of "earning your letters," I do not think that a person should have to earn them through physical violence. I hope that everyone learned something from this incident and that it did not go unnoticed.

I Love You...Now Change!

In today's world of anorexic models and generic ideas of what attractiveness is, people are finding more and more reasons to be dissatisfied with their appearance and they are turning to quick fixes, thinking that it will boost their confidence levels, consequently making them more popular. Women are obsessed with looking like Kate Moss and men are obsessed with having physiques like the pro athletes on television who most likely got their muscles superficially. However, they rarely take the time to think of the consequences. For some people, it can become addictive, finding one thing after another that can be improved on after having the first surgery. Is it really worth it to shell out all of this money and go through the hassle of surgeries to supposedly make you feel better? Wouldn't it just be easier to embrace the way you look and love yourself for the real you instead of the cut, scraped, and sucked you? Couldn't we stop trying to model ourselves after celebrities and realize that the average person doesn't look like that? Most of those things that celebrities have and that we tend to envy were paid for...many of them have gotten have gotten so much "work" done that it is hard to decipher what nature gave them from what they got at their surgeon's hands.

Nowadays, there are so many different things a person can do to tweak their appearance that it is easy to be sucked into the world of liposuction and botox injections. It is a lot easier than waking up every morning, looking in the mirror, and being content with what you have. It is way easier than asking people to accept you for the person you are, whether overweight or underdeveloped. If a person really loved you, they would love your flaws as well because they are a part of you. You should never change who you are for anyone. It may be true that tons of people go under the knife everyday and come back looking and feeling better, rid of their insecurities. But plastic surgery can also go very wrong...is that a risk you want to take? As for me, I'm waking up everyday and finding new reasons to love myself.

how r u...kk ttyl!

I know that my last few entries may have come off as diary entries more than anything. What can I say? I write what I feel no matter what that may be. But I'm back now...

I've been wondering why everything is becoming so impersonal in today's world and I think that I have identified the main culprits: text messaging,AIM,and e-mail...in that order. The days of calling someone to see how they're doing are past. Nowadays, we can just send a text message asking, "How r u?" Don't get me wrong, I see the convenience of all of these things. I can talk on AIM and watch a show at the same time. I can text message when I have something important to say but I am in a place where I can't talk. E-mail allows one to stay in touch with many people all at once. But sometimes it bothers me that I go so long without talking to a loved one that I forget how their voice sounds. And it also scares me that this may be the extent of the contact I have with my friends and family in the future. What petrifies me is that my father and grandmother text message me now. I really think that everyone should be able to take at least five minutes out of their day once or twice a week to call someone and check on them and hold an actual conversation rather than chatting on AIM. The new practices are quicker and more convenient but there is nothing like an old-fashioned phone call or, dare I say, a visit?

Enough Said...

The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.-Mohandas Gandhi
Forgiveness is the greatest healer of all. –Gerald Jampolsky & Diane V. Cirincione

I realized that many people have done me wrong in my life and inadvertently, I’ve held a grudge against them for a really long time. It’s time to let it go. I can forgive even if I choose not to forget. I was letting someone hold my life in his hands. I was letting what he did to me in the past dictate my future. I’ve decided now that I want my life back. I want to move on in life and look forward to the future without looking back to the past.

To Shamira

I've made a lot of mistakes but you aren't one
I was at my breaking point but then here you come
Bringing smiles to my face when I really want to frown
And lifting my spirits when everyone else is trying to bring me down
Who knew there could be so much power in something so fragile?
But it can't be denied, you're a blessing my child
When your little hand holds mine and you look into my eyes
I forget my flaws and focus on what I did right
Creating a beautiful baby, though some would say too soon
But you're here now my precious flower, I'm going to give you the love you need to bloom
Never thought I deserved something so beautiful
But God showed He still loved me by giving me you
You saved my life in so many ways
Everything was dark but now I'm seeing brighter days
For eight divine months, I carried you close to my heart
And though we are no longer one, we will never be apart
You are my rainbow in the sky, the breath that gives me life
The brightest star can no longer be found in the sky at night
I've captured it, you belong to me
Right here by my side for all to see
Times won't always be easy, they may get so hard that we want to quit
Challenges may be thrown our way, but together we can face it
My love will never fade, it goes on for eternity
And we'll create our own paradise, you and me

As parents, we have to be the voice of reason all of the time and the bad guy most of the time. We try to consider our children's feelings but we have to ultimately do what we think is best for them and, as a result, we may say things we don't mean and cause our children to doubt that we love them and have their best interests at heart. I've realized that my actions don’t always prove to my daughter just how much I love her. I decided to write a few words, in the form of a poem, for her to read when she gets older. This way, when we have fights, she won’t ever think that I don’t love her. Instead, she’ll know that I always did.

Everyday Inspiration

Everyone has difficult days in their lives. For some people, they occur more often but they are something that everyone has in common. Being a single mother trying to balance work, school, relationships, and a precocious 2 year old takes a lot out of me and there are days where I just don't feel like getting out of bed. I talked to my favorite aunt about it and she mailed me a poem that I decided to hang up on my wall for those days when I needed a little bit of help convincing myself to get out of bed. I think that everyone can relate to it in some kind of way and, in hopes that it may be able to help someone else, I am going to post the poem here. Again, these are not my words but I think that they are words of wisdom that should be passed on. Though at first read, it appears to be about moving past failed relationships, I believe that it can be applied to other aspects of life or at the very least help a person find that inner strength that everyone possesses whether they know it or not. This poem can help a person move past almost any hardship, whether it be a failed relationship or a lost job.


Comes the Dawn

After awhile you learn the subtle differences
Between holding a hand, and chaining a soul
And you learn that love doesn't mean security
And you begin to understand that kisses aren't contracts
And presents aren't promises
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head held high and your eyes open
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child
You learn to build your roads
On today because tomorrow's ground
Is too uncertain for plans, and futures have
A way of falling down in mid flight
After awhile you learn that even sunshine
Burns if you get too much,
So you plant your own garden, and decorate
Your own soul, instead of waiting
For someone to bring flowers
And you learn that you really can endure,
That you really are strong
And you really have worth
And you learn, and learn...And you learn
With every goodbye you learn
"You don't have to be afraid of change
You don't have to worry about what's been taken away
Just look to see what's been added."

So spread your wings and learn to soar to a brighter horizon...even if its on your own.

Commercial Complaints

Is it just me or are commercials these days getting extra annoying? The main one that I must note here is, of course, the Optimum Triple Play commercial with the mermaids and the sea dragon. That stupid chant of "877-393-4448" drives me up the wall. Yes, it makes the number more memorable but it makes me want to gag at the same time. I am also more than a little bothered by the fact that my two year old daughter sticks her head out the window while I'm driving and screams, "It's my money and I need it now!" I know that there is pressure on businesses today to make consumers want to buy their products but there should be a limit to how many times a certain commercial can be played. For anyone that may have been living under a rock and who has never seen the Optimum commercial...you can't say that I didn't warn you.

Ahhh, the Beauty of Free Information Systems...

So, the students in Professor Farley's Creative Nonfiction class were given the opportunity to search for the full online text of Andrei Sakharov's essay "Reflections on Progress, Peaceful Coexistence, and Intellectual Freedom." Needless to say, I succeeded. But it was not an easy task. Oh no, it was far from it. My first instinct ( as well as that of many others, I'm sure) was to search Google or Dogpile because they are like the ultimate in finding any information you could possibly be searching for. Not this time, though. I got absolutely nothing but what our professor had originally found, the opening paragraphs and nothing more. Not one to throw in the towel too easily, I began to explore options for finding what I needed. Then, I remembered a lesson I had received in my Discover New York class on utilizing the databases provided by St. John's University which are filled with more information than can be imagined. I figured since it hadn't failed me then, maybe it wouldn't fail me now. The rest of the story is unimportant because obviously I found the full text of the essay so, without further ado, this is how one would go about accessing it in the form of the original article published in the New York Times on July 22, 1968 (I wasn't able to post it here because it is copyrighted and is thus immune to copy and pasting):

1.) Go to the St. John's University home page at www.stjohns.edu

2.) Click on the link near the top of the page that says Academics & Schools

3.) Click on the Libraries link

4.) Click on Databases A-Z

5.) The databases are listed in alphabetical order so just find the letter N and click on New York Times Historical (Proquest)

6.) You will see search boxes with a variety of different options...In the Date Range field, click On This Date and enter 7/22/1968 in the box

7.) In the long search box at the top enter keywords Russian Nuclear Physicist and hit the Search button

8.) Click on the third result that starts off Text of Essay by Russian Nuclear Physicist

9.) The file should automatically start downloading when you click the link but if your computer blocks it, just click the bar at the top and choose Download File and click Open

10.) The article will finish downloading...peruse at your leisure.

I was not prompted for a password at any time during this process. I am not sure if the databases are only available to St. John's University students, faculty, staff, and alumni but, if they are and others are denied access...sorry but that is the beauty of higher education.

Chaos and Confusion of the Children Kind

I love my younger siblings. They bring joy to my life and make me smile when I really don't feel like it. And my Shamira's smile can brighten up an overcast day. But sometimes, I can't help but wish that I can use a big rope to tie them all together in the middle of my living room and leave them there until my parents return or take them for a good old-fashioned car ride to talk (see picture). Okay, so that's just a bit drastic and I would never do it (although its a nice thought) but trying by my lonesome to keep seven children out of trouble for hours, and me being just a teenager myself, is no walk in the park on a nice summer day. Me being a good daughter or just being stupid (kind of hard for me to tell the difference at times), I volunteered to babysit while my mother and father took some time to themselves even though I know that every time they get in the wind, it could be hours and hours before I see them again.

This time I thought that I was prepared, as I had found Sorry, Monopoly, and cards for them to play with. I figured that we could have a good, old-fashioned night of family fun. Wrong! Three of the older children shut my 7-year-old sister out of the game. She sarted crying, they started to tease her, and chaos ensued. My 4-year-old sister decided that she wanted to kick the teasing up a notch and slapped her sister. They started fighting and everyone started to choose sides. I tried to stop the fight and they all ignored my pleas to be kind to one another. Shamira, my 2-year-old daughter, decided to pull up a chair and get a front row seat to the action. I don't know who, but someone pushed someone else, who tripped over the chair she was sitting in and they all fell.

After all of this, I was completely fed up and I knew I had to regain control of the situation. I took the games away, turned off the television in the living room, and demanded quiet time. I thought I had gotten the job done until my 7-year-old sister began crying again and saying that my little brothers were making faces at her every time I turned my back. I did not want to be cruel to them, but my efforts were appearing fruitless and desperate times called for desperate measures.

I sent each of them to their respective rooms and told them they were not allowed to come out. I enlisted Shamira as a hall monitor and together we patrolled the hallways to make sure that everyone was following the rules and did not step a foot outside of their rooms. I felt like a corrections officer and I'm sure my younger siblings felt like prisoners but it was the only way I felt I could teach them a lesson. I could lie and say that, after lockdown, my house was so quiet you could hear a pindrop. I heard booms, bangs, and other noises that I dared not guess the origin of. My brothers were wrestling and pushing each other from the bunk bed and the girls were playing school with my 12-year-old sister as the school marm, but in her school all pupils had to do WHATEVER she said and be at her beck and call.

Always one to persevere, I am far from a quitter. But, at the hands of seven children from the ages of 2-13, I couldn't help but drop to my knees and beg for mercy. Another win for the young ones...

My Valentine's Day Validation

Okay, so I had big plans for this Valentine's Day. It was the first time I would really celebrate it and I was really excited and anxious to make everything picture perfect. So, naturally, everything started to go wrong from square one.

My procrastinating significant other asked me at the last minute (day before) to cook for him because he enjoyed my cooking and wanted our time together to be a nice, cozy private affair. I agreed to it and Brittany, loving friend and sister that she is, decided to help pull everything together. So, after class yesterday, after deciding that our ride to the supermarket was taking too long to come, we made a pilgrimage there on our own. After getting there and realizing the prices were too high and the products were not of a good quality, our friend called and said that she would come get us and take us to a different supermarket. Of course, we had trouble finding every single item on our list and by the time we were done and ready to go an hour later, our friend decided to go to 150 (exaggeration) different stores to get gifts.

So, after all of that, I did not get back to my apartment to start cooking until 6:30 and he was due at 8:30, so it was really crunch time. As I had decided to make shrimp linguine with alfredo sauce, garlic bread, a Red Velvet cake, and chocolate strawberries, I was not sure if I could finish it all in that short amount of time. Brittany, like the commanding general of an army, snapped me out of it and threw herself right into the task of making the strawberries. So, I did the same.

Miraculously, we pulled it off and were finished with everything in time and it was a beautiful dinner and a memorable Valentine's Day. Oh, in case you're wondering why the title is "My Valetine's Day Validation"... The experience validated the facts in my mind that Brittany is a great friend and that anyone who is so lucky to have a girlfriend like me who would go all out for them should count their blessings. Consider yourself lucky, J! : D

I Just Get A Kick Out of Your Baby!

Parents these days need to learn to watch their children more closely. I mean, with a precocious toddler, it is easy to lose track of them if you aren't watching them like a hawk. In the house, if a person has taken all the necessary precautions (though I've never seen a house that is completely baby-proof), they can let their child roam a little as long as they are somewhere in the parents' line of vision. But, in public, a person should never lose track of their child. Something terrible could happen such as an innocent, trusting child walking off with a stranger or, say.... getting kicked in the face by a breakdancer. Don't believe me? Just watch...

17 Years, 5 Months Down...7 More Months to Go

So...today is Super Tuesday and I am feeling very unimportant and anonymous. Unlike most of my peers, I am unable to let my voice be heard because I have not yet reached "legal" age, whatever that means. It doesn't matter that I've proved myself worthy enough to graduate early from high school and be accepted to an accredited university, nor that I WILL be able to vote to choose our next President in the fall. It doesn't even matter that I am one of a limited amount of teenagers who take their voting responsibilities seriously and follow political news so that they are sure that they will choose the most worthy candidate. All that matters right now is that I am 17 years and 5 months old as of today, 7 months shy of reaching my eighteenth birthday, and thus unable to vote in the primary election.

So I ask...how much more am I really going to mature in 7 more months that would qualify me to have a say in who will be the leader of our beloved United States. On the eve of my eighteenth birthday, will I suddenly have an epiphany or sudden transformation that will make me into a mature adult with a well-rounded education who is concerned about world news and poverty? I am not trying to be disrespectful of the law or irreverent (though I very often am), but I am just not understanding a few things right now.

Okay, I do understand why 18 is the legal age because that is when most people graduate high school and go on to college and a new phase of their lives, beginning to learn to depend on themselves rather than their parents to succeed in life. But why can't a person be able to vote as long as they will reach 18 that same year? Why do I have to wait until it is time to vote for our President and not be able to choose who I would like to vote for in the fall? Well, even if I cannot let my voice be heard in the voting booths today, at least I can let it be heard here even if I am not deriving much of a sense of purpose or satisfaction from it...

My Superbowl Party: The Giants' "Cinderella" Story

THE GIANTS WON THE SUPERBOWL!!!!!! It isn’t as if I didn’t already know that they would, but I just wanted to say it again with capital letters and exclamation points to add insult to injury for all of those who were rooting for the Patriots to win. Yeah, it might be a cheap shot but if I’m wrong, I don’t wanna be right! So confident was I that my Giants would not let me down and they would be victorious even though they were dubbed the “underdog” in the competition, I threw a Superbowl party.

Before I go any further, I would like everyone to know that I did not simply jump on the Giants bandwagon when I saw that that they were on the road to victory. I have liked them ever since I was younger and I beat my older brother in a football game on the Playstation after selecting the Giants as the team I would play with. It didn’t matter to me that I lost a few (many) games with them after that first time, because they were already the ultimate to me. I do admit to not following football very closely, but I was still a big supporter of the Giants.

Okay, now back to the party. So, my mother and I decided that we would throw a Superbowl party even though my mother knows absolutely nothing about football, but she somehow got caught up in the Superbowl fever, though she refused to choose sides. My mother, believing that football is more of a man’s sport, had the intention of throwing the party for my brothers and their friends, but I had other plans. So, with my pizza, chicken, ribs, potato salad, cheese and crackers, Tostitos, and seven-layer dip in front of me, I settled myself on my couch in front of my father’s new 61-inch HDTV and prepared to see the Giants make history. My aunts, mother, cousin, and little sisters followed suit and it was official that the women had taken over and the boys would have to go find somewhere else to watch the game. Man, did we get caught up in it! We were shouting at the ref, cheering our respective teams on, and gloating when they pulled ahead of their opponents.

It was an intense game and I was positive that my team would win…and then the Patriots scored a touchdown and kicked a field goal, pulling ahead and bringing the score to 14-10. There was only about two and a half minutes left in the game and the Giants could not win without a touchdown. With my younger brother yelling in the background about how it was over and the Patriots had it, my faith started to waver a little bit. But in the last minute of the game, the Giants miraculously pulled ahead of the Patriots again and I rejoiced. I knew the battle was won and the Giants had done what many had doubted they could do. They had won the Superbowl against the Patriots and destroyed their perfect record, handing them their first loss of the season. I screamed, my aunts cried, and we ended our party elated and just a little richer (both in spirit and money because some of us had bet on the game). :D

Shaniqua's State of the Music Address

I am a music lover to the tenth power! I love music and, being the eclectic person that I am, I listen to a wide variety. I find it rather boring and repetitious to be limited to only one genre of music. While R&B is my favorite hands down, I pay attention to new music hitting the airwaves.

One genre that I have noticed becoming increasingly popular is Southern rap, known in some parts of the world as crunk music. The music is catchy and, despite my initial resistance, I couldn’t help but find myself singing along when I heard the songs playing over the radio or at gatherings. Also, despite at first being repulsed by the “Soulja Boy,” I began to dance along at parties because it is a fun time when surrounded by friends. I even went so far as to put the song “Low” on my ringtone because I found myself bursting out singing it at random and sometimes inopportune times anyway so I figured if I put it on my ringtone I might get a little tired of it and stop singing it so much. It hasn’t happened yet, but I am sure that it is soon to come.

With all of this being said, I can’t help but feel that there is a line that should not be crossed with music and a few of these “musicians” have ventured far and beyond that border. When I turn on my television and see Soulja Boy jumping around screaming “Yahhh, trick, yahhh!” and telling his teacher to “Throw some Ds on it” when he receives a report card full of Fs, I can’t help but question if he feels bad for giving rap in general a bad name or for sending children a message that it is okay for them to be less than productive in the classroom and settle for mediocrity.

There was a time when rappers did not say anything at all if they did not have a purpose to it and something intelligent to say. I am not in any way trying to undermine the skills of today’s artists because there is still some music being made that sends a message or tells a story, which is the type of music that I most often like to hear. And I also understand the pressure to make popular, mainstream music that people will want to hear and have fun with when they go out for a night on the town, thus the catchy though sometimes purposeless music that has been making its debut on our radios recently. But I can’t help but feel that my I.Q. has dropped drastically every time I finish listening to certain songs that are along the lines of Soulja Boy’s “Yahhh!” And, correct me if I’m wrong, but I am pretty sure that is NOT the feeling you are supposed to be left with when you listen to GOOD music.