Because This Is What I Am AND Sometimes That Stinks

Somtimes, I hate being a Libra....because of our infintesimal need to constantly come out as the 'good guy' in any situatuion so that, even if we really want something, we're too busy wondering what everyone else will think to truly grab what our hearts desire. Gee-yuh.

LIBRA
Libra is the only inanimate sign of the zodiac, all the others representing either humans or animals. Many modern astrologers regard it as the most desirable of zodiacal types because it represents the zenith of the year, the high point of the seasons, when the harvest of all the hard work of the spring is reaped. There is a mellowness and sense of relaxation in the air as mankind enjoys the last of the summer sun and the fruits of his toil. Librans too are among the most civilized of the twelve zodiacal characters and are often good looking. They have elegance, charm and good taste, are naturally kind, very gentle, and lovers of beauty, harmony (both in music and social living) and the pleasures that these bring.
They have good critical faculty and are able to stand back and look impartially at matters which call for an impartial judgment to be made on them. But they do not tolerate argument from anyone who challenges their opinions, for once they have reached a conclusion, its truth seems to them self-evident; and among their faults is an impatience of criticism and a greed for approval. But their characters are on the whole balanced, diplomatic and even tempered.
Librans are sensitive to the needs of others and have the gift, sometimes to an almost psychic extent, of understanding the emotional needs of their companions and meeting them with their own innate optimism - they are the kind of people of whom it is said, "They always make you feel better for having been with them." They are very social human beings. They loathe cruelty, viciousness and vulgarity and detest conflict between people, so they do their best to cooperate and compromise with everyone around them, and their ideal for their own circle and for society as a whole is unity.
Their cast of mind is artistic rather than intellectual, though they are usually too moderate and well balanced to be avant garde in any artistic endeavor. They have good perception and observation and their critical ability, with which they are able to view their own efforts as well as those of others, gives their work integrity.
In their personal relationships they show understanding of the other person's point of view, trying to resolve any differences by compromise, and are often willing to allow claims against themselves to be settled to their own disadvantage rather than spoil a relationship. They like the opposite sex to the extent of promiscuity sometimes, and may indulge in romanticism bordering on sentimentality.
Their marriages, however, stand a good chance of success because they are frequently the union of "true minds". The Libran's continuing kindness toward his or her partner mollifies any hurt the latter may feel if the two have had a tiff. Nor can the Libran's spouse often complain that he or she is not understood, for the Libran is usually the most empathetic of all the zodiacal types and the most ready to tolerate the beloved's failings.
The negative Libran character may show frivolity, flirtatiousness and shallowness. It can be changeable and indecisive, impatient of routine, colorlessly conventional and timid, easygoing to the point of inertia, seldom angry when circumstances demand a show of annoyance at least; and yet Librans can shock everyone around them with sudden storms of rage. Their love of pleasure may lead them into extravagance; Libran men can degenerate into reckless gamblers, and Libran women extravagant, jealous and careless about money sometimes squander their wealth and talents in their overenthusiasm for causes which they espouse. Both sexes can become great gossipers. A characteristic of the type is an insatiable curiosity that tempts them to enquire into every social scandal in their circle.
In their work the description "lazy Libra" which is sometimes given is actually more alliterative than true. Librans can be surprisingly energetic, though it is true that they dislike coarse, dirty work. Although some are modestly content, others are extremely ambitious. With their dislike of extremes they make good diplomats but perhaps poor party politicians, for they are moderate in their opinions and able to see other points of view. They can succeed as administrators, lawyers (they have a strong sense of justice, which cynics might say could handicap them in a legal career), antique dealers, civil servants and bankers, for they are trustworthy in handling other people's money. Some Librans are gifted in fashion designing or in devising new cosmetics; others may find success as artists, composers, critics, writers, interior decorators, welfare workers or valuers, and they have an ability in the management of all sorts of public entertainment. Some work philanthropically for humanity with great self-disciple and significant results. Libran financiers sometimes make good speculators, for they have the optimism and ability to recover from financial crashes.

And Down Falls The Hearts Of Man...

I'm just. . . Huh. I hope for. . . something. . . Maybe. . . I don't know. . . Don't fuck it up. Maybe he won't be there. Maybe he will. One can only hope. Damn, one can only hope. I just really wish I could shut off my brain so that I wouldn't turn things from something innocent to something more. And damn if the stars aren't silent in their places. Fuck!

Because I'm Being All Posting-Of-The-Lyricals..I <3 this song!!!

Artist: Corey Crowder lyrics
Album: Starting All Over
Year: 2006
Title: Starting All Over

Stale as the air that we breathe
There are lines being crossed
That no one can see
Are we just climbing or are we just waiting to fall

Starting all over, can we handle that?
We both know that we are the same...
The roads we don't know them,
We've got no one else to blame.

This isn't turning...
This isn't turning...
This isn't turning out right.
This isn't turning...
This isn't turning...
This isn't turning out right

So save a place there for me.
I'll be back when I can find time to leave
Is this the ending?
Is this the way that we're made?

Starting all over, can we handle that?
We both know that we are the same...
The roads we don't know them,
We've got no one else to blame.

This isn't turning...
This isn't turning...
This isn't turning out right.
This isn't turning...
This isn't turning...
This isn't turning out right.

Starting all over, can we handle that?
We both know that we are the same...
The roads we don't know them,
We've got no one else to blame.

This isn't turning...
This isn't turning...
This isn't turning out right.
This isn't turning...
This isn't turning...
This isn't turning out right.

This isn't turning...
This isn't turning...
This isn't turning out right.
This isn't turning...
This isn't turning...
This isn't turning out right

There's Something To Be Said About Standing Your Ground

Okay, so...

I'm not going to have sex with Greg. Bit of a resounding d'oh in my head, but honestly...that other guy is on my mind a lot, and well...I've done the whole sex-when-not-in-a-relationship and it's a hollow affair, let me tell ya! I've done the one-night-stand thing too and while it's fun, I know myself well-enough to know that if that's all there is...then I get bored rather easily. Me and an old pal from High School did the whole one-night-stand thing and, while he was DAMN GOOD, I got bored afterwards and just started shutting down.

I want a relationship. R.E.L.A.T.I.O.N.S.H.I.P. I want to know that there's going to be something behind the actual act than just a 'Hey, I like you. You like me. Let's boogie.' Um...no. I want the connection and mayhap if I had seen Greg first he might have had a shot.

Let's face it: I always dwell on and obsess over things that might be a lost cause. Really! I just can't let go of things sometimes and while on others, say a business tycoon, that trait would be more helpful than detrimental, it's quite the opposite for me. I try to curb it though and it's getting better; I just have to put my foot down in my own mind and not just outside with other people.

I expect things. Mayhap that's my problem, but...I'm not going to get used again. Not by anyone and, if he can't understand the reasons (which he already knew, but damn if Arieses can't keep their mind focused for more than 2 seconds on anything), then we'll just have to say sayonada and throw up some deuces. I just...refuse to...do any of this without a foundation. If I don't have that than I'm lost, and I refuse to let my foundation go. I've worked too hard to make it stable these past few months to let some stubborn jerk tear it all down.

So, I'm standing my ground.

Hell, he wanted to sleep with me without even taking me on a first date!

*righteous indignation*

Hell no!!!

When One Domino Falls, They All Come Tumbling Down...

Okay, so I meant to post yesterday, but I have STUFF to do and I don't actually get the chance. However, as the sun has not risen, I shall consider this still yesterday even though the clock is going to read today. So, the real concern for today is: I don't really like this guy named Greg--I won't say loathe or anything--it's more like, you're a cool cat, but there's this other guy and he's...something, and you're just the safety rope I grabbed onto when I didn't think I could have this other guy. I mean, do I truly deserve what I want? I don't know.

And then Greg wants to sleep with me while simultaneously telling me that 'Sure, we'll get to know each other.'

How to tell him: I want to know about a person before I do that, even if all it will be is just friendship or benefits or something. I can hold off on the sex department even if I haven't had it in years. To me, the carnal act is a lot less appealing than the actual getting to know you process. It'a just something about knowing all of someone else's secrets, with their soul laid bare to me, that makes me feel all the more like a physical connection is unnecessary. What do I need your body for when I have your soul?

And then...

There's the other guy and I just...don't know.

It's not like I've ever spoken to him. Every time he comes around I clam up like a dummy and can't speak for fear of sounding stupid. I swear if I did a sellf-diagnosis it's probably because I'm scared over my ex and my relationship with him because that was my first real relationship and I had felt that instant jolt of attraction for him too and then...well, he left me for his best friend. That bitch...

*grumbles*

And then this other chick snagged him before I could build up the courage and I've learned my lesson: DO NOT...under any circumstances...PLAY WITH SOMEONE ELSE'S TOYS!

And so, he is her's, unless...well, FATE is kind. Then again: I'll just let Fate do what it does and let the chips fall wherever they may...

*nudges Fate meaningfully*

Now...

About Greg...

*sigh*

The Andromeda Strain...

So, like, I'm watching the movie 'Andromeda Strain' and it really just makes me want to read the book because while I bet they did as best a job as they could considering it's a two part television premiere, I feel like the book would probably flesh it out more (Then again, there's just something about Daniel Dae Kim looking all flustered and disheveled that just makes me go: mmmmmm....). Of course, you could probably say the same for every movie adaptation of any wellknown book. If I were the author, I'd say: Hey, I'm getting paid more. Then again, the whole copyright thing irritates me. If a person says they don't want their book made into a movie why is it that studios still by the rights to the book to be able to do it anyway? Do they actually have that right or am I just misinterpreting copyright law just so I can have something to fight for?

I don't know.

Anyway, I was just talking to myself as I am wont to do and I figured I post a smidgen of the stories I'm working on, just because this blog is...well...supposed to be a chronicle of me being a beginning author and all. I just wanna write!!! *twitches*

HERE'S A SAMPLE:

PROLOGUE - FAIRIES ARE AMONG US
Her heartbeat resounded in her ears like the rolling of coming thunder. Her blood turned to liquid fire in her veins. All of her senses were unnaturally honed to the world around her as her razor sharp gaze scanned the darkness, trying to pick apart shadow from shadow. This is what it must feel like to be hunted, she thought, wryly. Her ears were straining, her muscles were taut with the effort to keep perfectly still, perfectly watchful, wary of even the smallest and most innocuous sounds that leapt out at her from the gloom.

She didn’t know where the others were, separated from them quite suddenly, neither of them prepared for the attack that had come. She could only spare a glancing thought to them though, hoping that they were alright and sending up prayers to any powers that listened that she make it out of this alright herself. I swear I’ll buy everyone strawberry milkshakes if we’re just able to get out of this alive, she swore to herself as she stayed low to the ground and crept forward on all fours, still straining to listen and hear. At least the weird screaming had stopped.

It had started the moment she’d been separated from everyone else, a wild keening noise like an animal was being tortured alive. It had sent a shiver up and down her spine, rising and falling in tempo and volume until it was all she could do, but sing a little nursery rhyme to herself and keep moving: Moon, O Moon, in the empty sky, Why do you swing so low? Pretty moon with the silver ring, and the long bright beams where the fairies cling, where do you always go…
She could certainly use a bit of light now, even a sliver of it to help her see into the darkness better. Her hands slid over the ground, her knees scrapping against something that felt like concrete, but she wasn’t sure of that. She just had to keep moving, keep her mind focused on the forward and back motion of her legs, propelling her straight and true. It was all she could do to keep her fear in check, and she could feel it like twisting vines, curling through her system, trying to swamp her mind in panic. No, no, I have to just keep moving. That’s what he told me, she thought, beating back the fear. Just keep going. I should see some light soon. I should see…something.

AND THE OTHER SMIDGEN::

This one is kind of based on personal experience, even if it didn't quite happen this way. LOL!!! *shakes head*


CHAPTER ONE - WHICH WAY TO MURDER
The only sound the pigeons heard that morning was a loud screech and a crash as a cordless phone went flying across the room, smashing into the wall and splitting into two pieces, its coils and innards scattered across the floor where it landed. The pigeons cocked their heads, fluttered their wings and settled back into their places, but the morning could not return to its relative peacefulness for Keira Reynolds. Oh no. She glared at the phone as its dial tone droned before puttering off into a pathetic static-y sound before dying altogether. Her breathing was hard, her jaw set and her gaze livid.

How dare he—?!

Keira glared at the phone harder.

How dare he—?!

She wanted to scream, but aside from the screech she uttered nothing else would emerge. Nothing and she was a little disappointed in herself. After all, her boyfriend has just broken up with her. You’d think she’d be a little more livid than she was now. She just didn’t know. Two halves were warring within her: one side wanted to punch a wall, a pillow, a person and through a tantrum, where as the other half of her…just wanted to curl up into a ball in cry. Both sides were equally strong and equally tempting and submitting to either one was a tough, tough call.

So…

Instead…

She screeched indignantly and threw the phone. It was the best option for both sides, she supposed, and all she could do now was stand there in her PJs and bunny slippers glaring at a phone that she was going to have to replace. Great. A break up AND money out of her pocket to boot. Keira sighed in frustration.

She should’ve seen it coming. It wasn’t like there weren’t signs over the past couple of MONTHS that spoke and said: Danger, Will Robinson! Danger! But she was an optimist and she liked seeing the good in everyone. So, forget the fact that her boyfriend of TWO YEARS had been staying out later and later at his college working on his ‘project’ with friends. And forget that he stopped having real conversations with her about the things that mattered. Forget that she was trying her hardest to make him happy and all he could do was think about himself and his selfishness. Forget it all!

She’d overlooked everything because well…Let’s face it: that’s just the way she was, and it shouldn’t have come to her as such a shock that he would do this to her. It really shouldn’t, but it did and she wasn’t sure whether she should be hurt, angry or a heavy dose of both. Just last night she’d gone to sleep with, once again, the possibility that maybe things could work out, that maybe if she just pushed herself a little harder, she might come out on top and have him by her side.

Keira huffed, gripped her head in more frustration, sighed harder and landed with an unceremonious thump on her bed. She stared up at her ceiling, the painted angels floating within their artistic sphere; she could’ve sworn some of them were laughing at her. She glared at them too for good measure.

She just couldn’t understand how he could do this to her. Wasn’t she a good girlfriend? Hadn’t she been doting, considerate and kind? Hadn’t she been a model girlfriend the likes of which most men would kill for? This just could not be happening. Where did she go wrong? What in the last two years had she done?

She was cursed.

It had to be that.

Or something…

Definitely cursed.

Keira rolled on her back, shaking her head.

“And this morning started out so promising…”

And it was true. The morning had started out so promising. She’d woken to the rays of a bright, yellow Atlanta sun, shining in through her window, the sounds of a city shaking off sleep and preparing itself for the ordeal of another day. She’d gotten up, stretched in her morning routine to get the blood flow circulating. Her cat, Mr. McCavity, had sat up in his small bed near her wardrobe, with alert, sharp green eyes to watch her as she walked across her room, even in the first dregs of waking, her walk determined, and followed her with his gaze as she went to the bathroom that was connected to her bedroom, brushed her teeth and came out again, more wide-eyed and awake than she had been previously.

That was when the phone rang.

“Morning, Kei,” came her now ex-boyfriend’s phone resignedly over the phone. Keira frowned immediately, the bright and chipper greeting that she was going to utter, frozen on her lips. She swallowed.

“Morning, Rick,” she’d said cautiously, wondering why his sounded so down and out. She could almost picture him, and especially with that tone of voice (he always seemed to sound exactly the way he looked with any emotion): dark, curly hair framing his face, brown eyes downcast like a beaten puppy, lips turned down in that way of his that made her want to shake him sometimes and say, ‘Perk up!’

“What’s wrong?” she continued, but just as she’d gotten the words out, a sudden wash of feeling overtook her, a barrage of emotions that swallowed up her previous feelings of goodness about the day, and filled her with a foreboding sense of impending doom—

Didn’t want to… / Left me no choice… / Too many secrets… /Can’t do this anymore…

“Can’t do what—?” And she had to stop herself from speaking as Rick paused in a telling way that made her wince, even though he couldn’t see it.

“See? That!” he cried suddenly over the phone. Keira winced again.

“What?” she said, trying to feign innocence. “Rick, what’s going on?”

“You. Me. Us,” he replied. “I just…You’re a great girl, Keira. Really…It’s just that I…”

And that’s when Keira’s heart stopped and the flood of emotions that swept through her were more than just the feelings of impending doom. Doom had already come and darkened her morning, and now shock and disbelief were joining it, making the sunlight not nearly as bright as it had been and the bird song not nearly as sweet.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Keira asked. “Is that what you’re doing?”

There was a sigh on the other line and the sound of rustling clothing. Now, Rick was picking at his clothes, doing the whole beaten puppy act in full swing.

“You are, aren’t you?” Keira growled. A wave of guilt washed over her, and she knew point blank that that guilt wasn’t coming from her.

“I just…”Rick’s words faltered. He tried again: “You’re a great girl, Keira. You really are and I think you make a great girlfriend…”

“Just not for you.” Keira gripped the phone tightly, her knuckles turning ghostly white. Her jaw clenched and released, clenched and released and she could feel a hot emotion burning at the base of her stomach. “So cut the crap, Rick. Is it over? For you and me? Is it over?”

There was another resigned sigh over the line, and Keira could no longer stand Rick’s beating around the bush. She growled: “Fine. Then it’s over.”

Another wave of guilt and slight breeze of…was that relief?

“I guess so.”

“You bastard!” The hot wave of emotion rushed through her at those angrily shouted words and she screeched then, loud into the phone before hurling it across the room. The sound of broken machinery had been satisfying, but only for a minute, and Keira stared at the phone as a look of disappointment crossed her features.

“Damn him,” she muttered and let her face fall into her bedspread. “Damn him. Damn him. Damn him.”

Okay…

So it really shouldn’t have been such a surprise. After all, it wasn’t like she couldn’t tell his intentions when he called. She could…She could feel them even if he hadn’t been speaking the way he had that just screamed to her that something was up. She’d always been able to do things like that, and more often then not she wished she couldn’t. She’d blocked herself from him though, and maybe that was part of the reason. She didn’t want to see or know or hear anything of what was going on with him on the inside. She figured she was doing him a favor.

May be she should have done herself more of a favor.

The off-beat ring of her cell phone playing a snippet of Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ brought her temporary out of commiseration and she glared at the offending piece of technology. At least, it wasn’t Rick. Although…He had joked once or twice about wanting to have that as his ring tone. Keira growled and sat up, as the cell phone began another round of ‘They just wannuh…They just wannuuuh…Girls just wanna have fu-un. Oh, girls just wanna have fuuuuun!’ She grabbed it and pressed the call accept button and grumbled: “Hello?”

“Okay, spill,” came Lena’s voice over the phone. Keira pulled away from the phone in surprise. “Hey! I’m talking to you, Keira Anise! Spill!”

“Spill what?” Keira replied, bringing the phone back to her ear and trying to feign the innocent tone that so obviously didn’t work on Rick.

“Don’t you play dumb with me,” Lena growled on the other end in impatience. “You were broadcasting all over the ether waves. I felt you. Andi felt you. And Erin especially. So…spill.”

“There’s nothing to…” Keira’s voice trailed off. She didn’t know why she was reluctant to tell Lena what happened; she’d known the other woman since they were little kids in junior high. And it wasn’t like they weren’t going to find out anyway; Rick’s friends were friends of her friends. Word would get out soon enough.

She sighed.

“Me and Rick…Well, we broke up.”

“WHAT?!” Lena screeched and Keira had to jerk the phone away from her ear in an attempt to save her eardrums. “YOU BROKE UP?!”

“Lena, calm down!” Keira pleaded. “It’s not that…”

“Wasn’t he the one talking about marriage and crap?” Lena continued her angry tirade. “Wasn’t he the one talking about moving in with you and what color your furniture should be? What the hell?!”

Sweet Dreams Are Made Of These...

Is it so bad to have a dream? And I don't mean the ones with Fairies and Dragons, even though those have their merits and make for some pretty good fun during the REM hours of sleep. But I mean, a rea life dream...Kind of like the happily ever after kind? And, I'm not one of those happy souls--or deluded souls, rather--that believes that happy endings end at 'I do' and 'I do'. MArriage is work too, and I work for a Family Law Attorney, and there ain't no happy endings after 'I do' and 'I do'. I asked my brother about it on Sunday. I asked: Do you think we'll ever get divorces if we get married?

This is of course because my parents got a divorce when I was very young and I always wondered if that would be me in the next twenty years. Am I going to marry someone only to realize they were a big waste of time? I only got one life (or multiple lives if you're inclined to believe in reincarnation, but I won't remember it either way) and I don't want to waste it on possibilities that just don't pan out. I don't want my only contributio to this world to be 'I had a couple of kids, yay!' Not to say that being a parent isn't it's own rewards, but I just...don't want that to be the only thing.

Here's my dream:

I want to have a husband and three children, two girls and one boy. I want to live in a coastal New England town where everybody knows everybody, and my husband is an architect who flies overseas sometimes, does fantastic work and always comes home to his family (and doesn't cheat on me at all, even though the temptation can be great). I want two dogs: one an Alaskan husky and the other whichever fate decides to gift me with. I want a parakeet, three cats and a gofer. I want to be a writer whose books have been on the New York Times' Bestsellers' list multiple times and at least for sixty weeks and with millions of copies sold.

I want a house that looks like an old styled manor, with 22 acres worth of land, a giant lake and a giant willow tree that's about three hundred years old, and at night the whole place sparkles with fireflies like fairies live there.

Now, that's just a really far-fetched dream, I suppose, but...

It'd be cool if it happened, yes?

Her Children Are As Numerous As The Fish In The Sea

Sometimes it hurts.

I don't know how to describe it. Just a feeling inside, like I'm about to burst with some kind of emotion that just washes through me and causes me to sit up and want to scream, but I'm frozen staring at the screen of my television, wondering where I'm going wrong with my life.

I know I'm only 21, soon to be 22 and that life for me isn't over and that I have so many years to live, but I don't know that. Tomorrow, I could hop in my car and it's bye-bye for good. How do I know I have those days or years for me? How do I know that there's anything waiting for me at the end? I could be born only to die at some premature time.

I'm stupid, and an idiot and if I had to do a self-diagnosis, I'd say I was scared.

I prayed to Papa Legba to send a message to Oshun and Yemaya, Mami Wata both: Please. Please. Please. I light my candles and pray to you because these gods came before and they were worshipped in the days of old and may be they have sway over the human hearts still.

I don't know. I want to hope for things and I'm not sure if I even have the right. I feel so old, even though I'm so young and the old ones will probably say that being so young that's why I feel so old: I've got the luxury because my bones don't creak and my memory is sound (sometimes). But I feel like I've had my happiness and it's just...it's fading and I'm not going to be happy anymore.

Well, I'm capable of happiness...

I just don't know how to find the kind I want.

So, I ask again:

Mami Wata...

Please?

America's Next Top Model comes under fire....

In an article about America's Next Top Model, a blogger from wordpress.com criticized the show's lead host, Tyra Banks, for 'hating black women and gay, black men' by using her show as a stage to further marginalize either minority groups by showing gay men as the comedic relief and by being overly critical of the black models on the show. You can find his article here: http://orvillelloyddouglas.wordpress.com/2007/12/05/americas-next-top-model-conforms-to-homophobic-racist-and-sexist-stereotypes/ .

However, I completely disagreed and this is what I had to say:

Warning: the comment is a LOOONG one.

May 24, 2008 @ 12.45pm:
To: orvillelloyddouglas.wordpress.com
From: Erica D.

You know I only came here because I saw that gorgeous picture of Tyra and I was watching America's Next Top Model at the time and was interested in finding pics of the famed woman, and then I read your article... I notice that you're not responding to any of the other comments that people have made about your article, but that's okay because I'm going to throw my own two cents in because I felt the need to comment. I understand where you're coming from when it comes to the negative stereotyping that the media makes of Black Women and the GAY community in general (because it's not entirely about the BLACK GAY MAN at all, but the GAY community with blacks being a segment within it). However, you quoted W.E.B Du Bois and spout off his wisdom in reference to the public and private way that blacks act around open society and behind closed doors around their peers and it seems that you are contradicting yourself by accusing Tyra of hating Black people because she doesn't act or look a specific way in mainstream. But let's remember shall we: MAINSTREAM is the public sphere, the public arena, and if what you say of Mr Du Bois is correct then she is acting in the way that is most befitting of the MAINSTREAM. Now, when she's at home amongst friends, then she will act accodring to the private sphere of her home.

Let us all just realize one particular aspect about the United States' culture (because you are obviously NOT from the US, but are American as one Canadian friend pointed out to me becaue you live on the American continent), only a few decades ago segregation was LAW in this country and only a few short centuries ago slavery was also LAW. The people who remember those times, while dying off, are still around and some are still in power and some teach their child a type of closeted bigotry, we as a race CANNOT expect change to just suddenly fall into our laps as if the past never existed at all. There are still kinks to work out and the majority that still has sway and power in the US is white America. So, until we are able to get a few Black presidents under out belts or create a brainwashing device to change everyone's minds, change is going to happen slowly and Tyra Banks and any other Black Woman in power in the media is going to have to conform in some way. I personally feel that the modelling industry is FAKE and contains more drama than choosing the queen at a high school prom, but that's the fashion industry and Black Woman have to be more cut throat about it than their white counterparts. So, if they must conform, then they must. At least they are out there, showing that there ARE black faces even if they aren't the ones that black people want to see or represent the culture. I, myself, as a black woman growing up took great joy in even seeing Naomi Campbell and Tyra Banks and Gabrielle Union (while not a model) in the media and other black faces as well. It gave me hope that if I ever wanted to pursue these careers, while it would be hard work and alot of pain, I could at least make it somewhere. So, while you may not like the 'Eurocentric' look Tyra has, at least she's OUT there and providing a different stereotype for the media to play off on instead of the angry, overly sexualized ghetto stereotype of 'I Love New York' or 'the Flavor of Love' girls. Tell me how those women are helping the media percieve ME as an average WOMAN instead of some loud-mouthed, obnoxious, rude person.

As for the gay men: as one of the previous posters commented, isn't it better that the gay culture is getting some exposure. While it may not be the best exposure, you are forgetting that this is the FASHION industry and most of the men in the FASHION industry, if they are not the designers and even those are dubious in sexuality, are GAY and usually effeminate. And Jay Manuel doesn't seem to act like the comedic relief at ALL. Now, Miss Jay....yes, he acts...a bit comedic, but I have friends who are gay and lesbian of all races and act worse. He's tame in comparison to what I've personally experienced (trust me, when you go to a party with lesbian lolitas in various types of lolita culture and styles...whew!). Now, Mr Jay may make YOU think he's the stereotypical gay man, but I don't see any of the more 'malefic' acting gay men pushing for themselves into the media and if they do, they don't tell any one about it because they don't want to be boxed in and forced to play specific roles. The acting world and fashion world are cut throat businesses where backstabbing is the norm and if someone finds out a specific aspect about your rpivate life, it WILL be used aginst you so that some else can get ahead and if you're BLACK or an other minority, you're doubly screwed.

So, before you bag on Tyra or, even, Oprah, you need to understand the sphere that you are taling about. I do because as a child I wanted to break into that industry and learned how hard it could be for a minority of color. I have always been told that I sound white, act white and even dress that way too. I was told by an aunt that one of her great aunt's would have loved me merely because I was of a lighter skin color than my own mother. My younger brother has yellow skin and green eyes, does that make him any less black? Because I want him to pronounce words with out the vernacular that is associated with and plagues the black culture, does that make either one of us less black? Danielle, one of the ANTM's models and the one who WON, had to learn to conform to an juggernaut of an industry and quite frankly, being black listening to her talk was painful to my ears too.

Well, I've spoken my piece. Thank you for reading if you do.

It's just so annoying how bass ackward and PC this country is, and how other people portray or think of the United States and then how the United States is a total contradiction of itself. I was just reading another article about how ANTM has come under fire for some of their 'racy' fashion shoots and other photoshoots, and it irritates me that parents get angry because of the photoshoots, but the words 'ass' and 'bitch' and other words that I know I would have gotten popped for or disciplined as a child for saying and then put on punishment for a month are uttered as easily as 'hey, would you like some water?' So, I think the people who run those organizations shouldn't just come down hard on ANTM or other shows like it, but on ALL shows if they're going to be such bitches about it (yea, I said it ^_^). I see some shows on Cartoon Network that make me go, WTF?! and made me ban my little brother from even watching the channel at specific times because of the questionable material I see, and I broke out some tapes and VHSes of old television shows that I used to watch as a child that were 'kid-friendly'. So, please organizations like MAAD are just as fucking pathetic and hypocritical as the rest of this country.

Honestly! And then the hype about specific books altering children's minds so that they do bad things? That's just bad parenting. Like my little brother's mother....she's so uber-christian that she gives power to an object that doesn't have any power what so ever.

Last year I bought my little brother a book about dragons because he likes dinosaurs and dragons look a helluvalot like dinosaurs in his mind. He was only nine at the time and really didn't care because they were gigantic lizards. You should've seen how excited the munchkin got over the book and he read it immediately that day. I let him take it home when his mother came and got him so that he could enjoy it over there, but then I get a call the next day that she's going to 'mail' the book back and wants me to take the damned book back because she felt that it was 'satanic' and 'evil' and would say Isaiah to the 'dark side'. OMFG! This is not Star Wars, you dumb twit! It's a book that I clearly explained to him before I even let him have it. I quizzed him on dragons, talked to him about them being 'fictional', told him that if he had any questions for me to 'ASK' me, had him relay it back to me all the info I gave him and then asked him to tell me what it meant in his own words, and I did it all in a joking manner so that he wouldn't feel uncomfortable or like he was in trouble. And HEY, he's not Darth Vader reincarnated.

So I took the book back, but he'd already done some of the acitivities so I couldn't exchange it and I told her that so she reimbursed me the cash. The book actually cost some 12 bucks and some change, but I rattled off 13.oo because she was going to write me a check and honestly a whole number, right? She acts like she's vindicated because the number it cost was 13. She's a dumb twit, really. So I kept the book, got the cash and I am secretly, covertly undermining everything that her stupid, bigoted christian brain cooks up for my little brother to learn. I take him outside and let him know that nature exists and is alive and that whoever the creator(s) of the universe are/is, they/he/she/it don't want you cooped up in some stuffy building with other backstabbers and not learning from the true divinity which is nature itself. And no I'm not pagan or wiccan or a witch (and yes, I sperate wiccan and witch because wiccans are too flowery for their own good), but I study everything because I'm curious about all paths or if there is even a path to follow.

*wiggles fingers*

Because I'm the bad element in society. I'm that weirdo girl with the confuckeded-colorful hair that prances around school with dragonfly wings and hangs out with all the outcasts and fags, who's not afraid to see things for what they are and dig deeper for answers to the questions of life that I have, who isn't afraid to piss you off with the observations I make and the subversive character I have.

Yes, yes. Fear me.

*loud, cackling laughter as the scary music plays to its final finish*

Men Are Just Dreams We Use To Lie To Ourselves

I had hoped to write a much more uplifting post then yesterday, however, life doesn't seemt to be so kind; I really just think it's the weather.

So I'm sitting here watching Buffy. I should be writing my books, and even as I watch the absolute campiness of this particluar scene in which Angel and Buffy are probably going to make love for the first time (DANGER, WILL ROBINSON!) and the two of them are professing their undying love (Dear God, please shoot me). And there you go, Angel turns to Angelus....Ha! Ha!--I feel that life would be amazingly wonderful if said campiness exists like that. Exactly like that, with the vampires and the werewolves and them demons and superpowered females--and well, not all of the super powered females being...well..white.

Because in this world...I need something, you know, fantastic....

Why is it that magick cn't exist in this world as it does in the worlds of fiction and just be instantaneous. I don't know if it truly exists or if it's just some kind of idea people made up to just...take control of something.

I wish it did.

Anyway, I'd rather keep this blog up-lifting so nyarggle.

Good Day and Good Day and Good Day....

The first of many, I hope. I'm opening a new blog that narrates the perils of growing up as the dragonfly queen. Well, not really, but in my world of fairly odd things and weirder happenings I need to be the queen of something.

I'm a writer and a dreamer and I am seriously hoping that by the end of this year I will have been able to get the first dregs of three books written. Yes, indeedly, three! Slow going so far, it's just that terrible fear of writing.

I warn you, some of these entries will be sad. Some of them will be joyous. Some will push you to the very edge of annoyance and aggravation. It's all part of my charm and my master plan.

So sit back and enjoy.

Now...

Where's that light switch?