Today started at 8:30 am with the vibration of my cell phone. I normally turn it off, but I promised my sister that I'd be available to take my niece Serenity to school is necessary. When I picked up the phone, a female voice asked for Tiffani, and I promptly told her 'wrong number,' and hung up the phone. While the phone was in my hand, I decided to call Henry Ford Hospital because Uncle Elvin had been taken to the emergency room there last night. Of course, he had already been discharged from he hospital.

Once I had some coffee, I started to come alive, excited for another Friday, and warm weather, though dreary. For some reason, I felt really inspired and free for the first part of the day. I stepped outside to stand in the warm rain because I couldn't remember the last time I'd let myself do that. I actually uttered the words, "I love my country,"...which never fucking happens. Above all, I actually dropped my nerdy pretenses long enough to touched by Katy Perry's "Firework." I'm in another chapter in life where I feel like I'm rising from ashes, so the song spoke to me. I've had the blues for so long over the past few years that I really cherish the days when vitality radiates from me. Today would be a good day not because of the outside world, but because I'd decreed it so within me.

I spent the afternoon catching up with Chael. That was a mostly positive experience, outside of a brief and snarky interruption from Frank. Not that out of the ordinary, but still prickly and off-putting. Oh well.

Nikki ended up asking me to pick up Serenity from school, so I decided to use the opportunity to have some quality time with Rennie. We stopped at the grocery store to get supplies to make strawberry milkshakes for Rennie and her friends on the block. The making of the milkshakes happened in typical six-year-old fashion: impatiently, with lots of spills, and lots of internal effort on my part to not try and control everything. We topped shakes with extra-thick whipped cream, a couple sliced strawberries, and some leftover red birthday sprinkles. Rennie definitely scored some cool points with her clique, and did not hesitate to take FULL credit for making the milkshakes. She has an above-average need to be liked. I can relate.

I decided to hang out with Rennie's clique while they dove into their shakes, and saw a few interesting things. Joe-Joe, Rennie's homie from down the street, said that he hadn't had an actual strawberry before. Is that strange for a seven-year-old? I thought it was. I couldn't help but think of how often I see his parents walk to the party store around the corner. My family stopped shopping for anything there in the 90's because the quality of merchandise was poor. Strange how so many hood kids get better acquainted with artificial fruit flavors before we know the original flavors our candies imitate.

Later, as the sun left us, Rennie broke my heart when she walked up and asked, "are you going to ask my parents if I can spend the night?" With her grandmother out of town in California, she clearly felt like I was her only hope for having a fun evening. It was really wrenching to see the look of sheer disappointment on her face when I told her no. She was so devastated. She wasn't being a brat. Rather, she was trying to communicate that generally, she prefers being over here to being at her own house. I don't blame her (at all). Most of the kids on the block seemed starved for quality interaction with their parents. I just wish these same parents were in tune with the needs of their own children.

Inside of 30 minutes, the sun fell completely, the porches of the block cleared after today's Ghetto Show, and there was nothing but the faint sound of cars flying along the expressways in the distance, and a pre-recorded Call to Prayer blaring from the loudspeakers of the mosque a few blocks away. Friday.

This article really resonates with me. If you've ever read this journal, there shouldn't be any question as to why, lol.

http://www.economist.com/displayStory.cfm?story_id=15108690

Sorry for being so remiss in writing here. I've been holding all of my transformations and processing a little closer to my body over the past year, and I've been through a LOT!!!

I'm in a reflective move because I'm leaving State College after two years out here. I came out here for a masters degree, and I was also looking forward to a good deal of personal growth. Instead, I'm leaving here with no masters degree, a sturdy relationship, and worlds of personal growth that I didn't expect. Was I disappointed with myself? Yes. There's no way someone as goal-oriented as me could feel initially happy that I didn't achieve something I set out to do. I think it was clear that I had been struggling. But I was so ashamed that I stopped myself from writing anything here about leaving school. Frankly, I would have hid it from my intimates if it had been possible. I had trouble facing it myself. But, dare I say, I've gotten to a point where I feel thankful for, and even good about encountering my personal limitations.

( The rest of this somewhat Job-like story )
Despite working 40 hours/week between Philipsburg (small town 25 min away) and State College with a whole bunch of straight, white, country-ass, lightly racist, sexist and homophobic people, I find myself happier. Ironic, no? I'm beginning to hear myself more, and I'm far more attuned to what the universe is telling me. I don't feel like the words and choices of others permeate my skin so easily. Everyday, people come into the store and I end up ministering to them in my friendly, nerdy way. They'll often say, "I don't know what I feel so comfortable telling you all this..." and I laugh, knowing that I've evoked this reaction from people for many many years and that I have a gift. I still have goals, but I appreciate process more now. I laugh more often, and make fun of myself. I cook. I wait for inspiration to come, and I'm beginning to read for joy instead of obligation. I get along with Darryl better, and I let his love in more. I try to control less. I communicate how I feel more, and I'm beginning to let my tears fall when they may. I feel good about myself, and I feel ok with my limitations. I'm motivated less by hurt and anger. I feel like I'm "in my body" more, and "in my head" a bit less. And I don't need Maryjane to get there! One of the coolest revelations I've had is that schools don't give me my intelligence. I have it, and I radiate it no matter where I am. It's not that my goals were wrong, but I was approaching them from a standpoint that needed to die. I needed to learn to emphasize external achievement less, and value internal achievement more. I'm learning to be courageously introspective. Boldly humble.

For the first time EVER, I'm ending a chapter of my life with no real plan. I don't know where I'll be living longterm. I don't know what job I'll have. I don't have "the next great achievement" mapped out. But it leaves so much more room for faith and serendipity. There's so much more that isn't tied up nicely in a bow (like debt, insurance, and other material things), but that's ok for now.

Time for food, beer, and television. Smooches!

I'm an ENJF or an INFJ, depending on the day, lol. I've been taking the Myers-Briggs since I was in seventh grade, and I started out as an ESFJ. From there I lost of the sensing, and more recently I've become way more introverted. I think it's been great and accurate...if only I'd do what the damn thing says!

Let the Healing Begin...

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=99298290

I'm glad that more and more Americans are being made aware of France's race problems. I was there when the government voted to prevent the collection of race-based census data back in 07' Without getting all heady, the French are some of the BIGGEST hypocrites when it comes to race. The French were some of the first to bring our "modern" notions of race onto the world stage. Race was used as a partial justification for colonialism...but the article only mentions the benefits colonialism brought the colonies. While I understand the journalistic hesitancy to write like an activist, this article plays it horribly safe. STILL, it's a good read if you're not up on this.

For the past year...I've felt like I've been stuck in a cocoon. Makes me wonder if caterpillars voluntarily transform, or if there are Monarch Butterflies out there just yearning to return to a slinky terrestrial life.

I've definitely been in a cocoon; and I use the word "stuck" because I've had the sense that life has been happening to me...against my will, since Grandma died. First came depression in the Spring and Summer. I felt like life had become a piece of 40-grit sandpaper and scraped whatever protective veneer I had down to pink flesh. RAW. A walk down the street became daunting. I felt like I couldn't control the degree to which things outside of myself affected me. I was awkward and paranoid. Dropped out of classes. Stopped caring. Cried almost everyday. Spontaneously cried in restaurants and on the streets. I really fell apart and unraveled in an unprecedented way. Sunlight hurt my eyes. I spoke with no one consistently except Darryl, and my team of counselors. YES...team. I did not care how I looked. It seems like I wore sweatpants and thermal tees every single day if I got dressed at all. I lost my appetite and dropped to 190 pounds from 215. I turned to a variety of drugs; illegal and legal; to cope. When I went home to Detroit for my sister's graduation in May, I was high the entire week. Weed made me feel like there was a barrier between me and the outside world. I craved distance from my own emotions. If Peaches says "fuck the pain away," I tried to smoke the pain away. I got as low as I could possibly get.

Then came fear. I was worried that people would know that I was struggling so much. I was scared that no one in my life could support me. I thought I would fail out of grad school. I feared that I could only be loved in my most perfect state. And I was ashamed of myself for sinking so low. Someone on the outside looking in could easily ask why I had any right to be down. My life seems to have many of the trapping of success. But as one of my astrology books put it, I subconsciously operate on the philosophy of "the darker it gets, the brighter one has to be." Each grand thing I've done in life up until this point was undergirded by a feeling of inadequacy within. People have no idea how true that is.

Then came pressure. I was told during the summer that if I did not clean up the mess from my depression, I would not be continuing in the program for the Fall. I also had a court-order against me for two months unpaid rent. My lights and gas were cut off. So since August, I've been in a mad dash to stay afloat in grad school. I barely made it through. I had to clean up my transcripts, write a thesis proposal in four weeks that most students take months to do. I had to defend that proposal, teach, and take two classes. Not to mention working on my relationship with Darryl. My doctor even called in December to check on me because according to her records, I had a "please God, no more" kind of year.

Around Thanksgiving, I bought "It's Pimpin, Pimpin" which is the new comedy special by Katt Williams. I fell in love with it because Williams addressed the issue of long-suffering in such a hilarious way. In his routine, he says that when black people get as low as they can possibly get, all we need is one opportunity to show that we are not bullshitting. 2009 is that opportunity.

Now comes rebirth. Here I am, on the precipice of my last full semester at Penn State. But before I can move on to embrace what the universe has for me in 2009, I needed to leave 2008, and an obsolete shell of myself here in this e-mausoleum. I've been exposed to the elements and learned the ways of the world to completion. So now I can find shelter at home free of the gnawing anxiety that I haven't accomplished enough, released from the need to prove myself in endless hostile and unfamiliar environments to brittle unforgiving authority figures. A season of youth, comfort, vulnerability, and connection with my feelings and those of others is on the horizon.

While I haven't made writing in my LJ a New Years resolution, I certainly wanted to do a better job of writing than I did in 08'. I have so many events, struggles, triumphs and transformations to reflect on from 08' that I'm kind of overwhelmed with where to begin:

Classes started back today, but the campus was surprisingly quiet. Everyone is staying indoors as much as possible because of the cold...which I understand. I won't be teaching any courses or doing any research work for other profs. I'm just writing my thesis and looking for a job on the other side of this degree. So far I'm aiming for government jobs-- namely at the Census Bureau. The 2010 Census is already getting underway in most places, so I'm confident that I'll find something. Whether that "something" pays me what I'm worth is another question...

I had a pretty good time hanging out with family down in Orlando, FL for my winter break. It's been about a year since my grandma's passing...and my family (myself included) is still healing from the aftershocks. Grandma Sally really was the linchpin holding everyone together. So the extended family is really in a state of stasis right now. I've been wrestling with what my role is in all of this. Am I called to move back to Detroit after this and start a new wave of family tradition there? Or am I supposed to just do me?

Darryl and I are in a good place, and have been for a while now. It took some emotional self-work on both of our ends to achieve some stability, but at least we have it within our relationship together. We took a grad level class together last semester, and it was really good to see him shine as a burgeoning academic. Everyone in the class assumed he was in grad school, even though he's still finishing up the undergrad. YAY for having a wonderful, intellectually stimulating boyfriend that I can grow with.

Other than that, just odds and ends. I'm getting glasses, and I'm sportin' a faux-hawk these days. Considering purchasing a used car to get around more easily. I think I've paid tribute to the concept of living more simply...but the shit just doesn't work when it comes to transportation in State College, lol.