tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37667402011-04-27T06:05:16.208-12:00Rose-colored Glasses: The world... As I see it.Read at your own risk.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comBlogger831100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-1063315944339074582003-09-11T09:32:00.000-12:002003-09-11T09:32:24.293-12:00Life update:
- I turned 23 over sesame chicken and chocolate martinis.
- I moved to a 3 bedroom brownstone in Park Slope, Brooklyn.
- I survived the blackout (I happened to be off work that day, so I have few complaints, except that it was way too damn hot).
- I'm slowly making great strides with this "book."
- I am considering a career alteration ("change" sounded too harsh).
- I am Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-1061815093306839952003-08-25T00:38:00.000-12:002003-08-25T00:38:13.293-12:00Moving on and letting go ...
Don't you hate when you realize you should've done that a long time ago?
I've let go of a few rather significant things in my life during the last 2 weeks, and I welcome the change. Moving on is the easy part this time because I think I was fed up a long time ago. Shoulda done it sooner.
My brother is now officially a Morehouse freshman. It's too cute.
More Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-1060364359883229462003-08-08T05:39:00.000-12:002003-08-08T05:55:05.880-12:00"Paranoia will destroy you."
It's not always as difficult as everyone wants to make it. When I say, "This is aimed at no one in particular," I actually mean, "This is aimed at no one in particular." There was no hidden meaning there. There's a pretty boring story about speaking pig Latin all by my lonesome that explains why I don't talk in codes anymore. I think I made poor BR listen to it once,Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-1060278930558337542003-08-07T05:55:00.000-12:002003-08-08T05:50:42.856-12:00"Become the change you want to see."
One of my four suitemates moved out of our dorm apartment on Saturday, leaving the rest of us to fend for ourselves in the wake of a rash of robberies throughout the building. Someone stole a Toshiba laptop from a locked room on the 12th floor. Someone on the 8th floor reported $75 in cash was taken from her wallet while she slept (I personally don't believe Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-1058649204022539002003-07-19T09:13:00.000-12:002003-07-19T09:18:45.360-12:00Disclaimer: I love all of my Spelman sisters. I mean no harm; this is all in fun.
My friend Ashley and I decided to organize a brunch for all the Spelmanites who are interning in Manhattan this summer. Worried that we didn't have everyone's contact information, I contacted career planning to see if they could help us generate an email list because we didn't want to leave anyone out.
Before I Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-1058373052084054152003-07-16T04:30:00.000-12:002003-07-18T08:19:37.406-12:00Cameron Diaz is seeking an injunction to stop the sale of topless photos and videotape of her that were taken when she was 21. A man in Los Angeles tried first to sell the photos to Diaz herself, in an attempt her lawyers called extortion, but is now mulling bids from Hustler and other reputable publications. Bids are said to be as high as $3.5 mill--almost 20% of her milestone $20 million Full Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-1058238081722884632003-07-14T15:01:00.000-12:002003-07-14T15:01:21.706-12:00Ignore that last post. It's all good in the hood once again.
Back to my regularly scheduled rambling sans discussion of my personal life... What's the point of making up rules if I can't remember to follow them?
cep.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-1057953699155440602003-07-11T08:01:00.000-12:002003-07-11T08:01:39.020-12:00"We knew from the start that things fall apart and tend to shatter."
The Mister and I are clearly on the rocks. He's (however reluctantly) pushing me away, and I'm not resisting. I somehow can't help but feel like I'm in the wrong here. Maybe I am. But if I am, he's right over there in wrong-land with me. Dealing with him is like playing chutes and ladders or listening to a pre-Idol Paula Abdul.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-1057728728165602912003-07-08T17:32:00.000-12:002003-07-08T17:32:08.130-12:00Oh yeah. I do know that the date and time are screwed up when my page publishes. Not sure why that is, but let's just agree to ignore it for now, OK?
cep.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-1057728627299433122003-07-08T17:30:00.000-12:002003-07-08T17:30:27.270-12:00"We don't cause trouble, and we don't bother nobody."
1:15 a.m. and I'm at work with 45 minutes left.
Sigh.
It wouldn't be so bad if I'd actually gone to sleep last night. I can count the number of hours of sleep I've had in the last 4 nights on 2 hands. And I flew back from New Orleans this afternoon to come to work at 6 p.m.
My brain is mush, and I'm sitting here struggling to edit copy Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-1056895188724242352003-06-29T01:59:00.000-12:002003-06-30T03:48:34.273-12:00I rarely do this because I sometimes worry that the magazine can lower one's intelligence, page by page, but I'd like to encourage everyone to go out and buy the new issue of People Magazine and look on page 93. There is a picture of Arnold Schwarznegger in a thong. IT IS THE FUNNIEST SHIT I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE. Please go look. Thanks.
cep.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-1056737943234881262003-06-27T06:19:00.000-12:002003-06-27T08:54:27.573-12:00I saw a blind man's eyes today. He was standing to the left of the subway exit, as my extremely delayed 9 train pulled into the 50th Street station (managed by superintendent Larry Johnson, according to the giant sign inside the lobby). His pointer stick was blocking the doorway, and I nearly tripped over it as I walked out. I paused (thinking the stick was an umbrella or something, I hadn't yet Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-949531402003-05-27T07:32:00.000-12:002003-05-28T01:06:14.000-12:00Dearest Weblog,
At times, I like to fancy myself prolific, loyal and dedicated when it comes to writing. I'm in love with it. But you wouldn't be able to tell by the way I treat you. I'm terrible to you. I neglect the hell out of you. It wasn't always like this; I used to be better at paying attention to things. I won a goldfish at a Pet Fair when I was 5. I named it Rodney. I spoiled the hell Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-943159712003-05-13T19:39:00.000-12:002003-05-15T13:47:33.000-12:00I bet I'll have you naked by the end of this blog.
It's Senior Week. I finished all my undergraduate work, though not without problems (my computer crashed on page 38 of my thesis, and I had to open the back of my laptop with a screwdriver to fix it), but all is well because I can enjoy my newfound college graduateness--by doing things like making up words and going to parties.
But tonight, Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-938505342003-05-05T20:21:00.000-12:002003-05-05T20:21:44.126-12:00Does Scott Peterson look like a bleached-brown, slightly overweight Ben Affleck or is it just me?
And Spelman, I love you and everything, but you're always messing up. After everything I've done for you... My patience is wearing thin.
cep.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-937683602003-05-04T11:58:00.000-12:002003-05-05T03:48:29.000-12:001. What was your first job?
Aside from babysitting, I had my first job as an intern at Nashville's African American newspaper. My aunt was the editor and my uncle the publisher, so they brought me on for a few weeks during the summer. I had no idea what I was doing. Though sometimes I got to attend some client lunches, read through some interviews, and edit some copy (Whenever I found mistakes, Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-931577062003-04-23T16:27:00.000-12:002003-04-23T17:03:50.000-12:00Like the new look?
Tell me what you think.
In the meantime, I'll be taking a break. It's thesis time. But I'll leave you with this letter my mom wrote to wish Luther Vandross a speedy recovery:
To: tolutherwithlove@luthervandross.com
Dear Luther:
You have given so much to so many unselfishly for a number of years. Your artistry not only of song but also of strength, perseverance and courage Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-929718972003-04-20T19:45:00.000-12:002003-04-20T19:56:52.000-12:00My Stanford visit. Ah yes. Well. I was a bit let down. There are so many good things to say, but sadly, there are more than a few bad ones worth mentioning as well. Of the top 20 schools, I hear it has one of the healthier classroom environments. The teachers seemed friendly, and I hear they're fair. Since the law school only has around 500 students (180 per class), the student-teacher ratio is Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-928972332003-04-19T06:18:00.000-12:002003-04-19T10:57:55.000-12:00How many have you read?
100 Books Every Black Person Should Read
1. The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin2. Race Matters by Cornel West3. The Black Jacobins by C. L. R. James4. The Mis-Education of the Negro by Carter G. Woodson5. The New Negro by Alain Locke6. Black Skin, White Masks by Frantz Fanon7. Go Tell it on the Mountain by James Baldwin8. Elbow Room by James Alan Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-927312802003-04-16T07:13:00.000-12:002003-04-16T07:19:19.000-12:00My first entry._______________________________________________
[3/17/2002 3:26:55 AM ]
Wow. Free web space with no set topic? Blogger should have never given me account. This is crazy.
Angela Nissel was more direct and focused with her web-space; she devoted it to discussing her witty, money-fenagling shenanigans. I, however, have no such direction.
There are a couple things I would like Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-926662432003-04-15T06:59:00.000-12:002003-04-15T07:06:56.000-12:00I've been blogging for over a year. I meant to keep track and sh-t, so I could announce my 1-year anniversary. But it wasn't that serious, and I definitely missed it. Apparently, I should have written this some time in mid-March. Who cares.
Anyway, as with all things, I like to take time and reflect. I usually reflect on my life while blogging, and now, I'll reflect on my blogging while living. Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-923364162003-04-09T15:48:00.000-12:002003-04-09T18:55:50.000-12:00Hi. I'll be brief.
First off, according to the new American Society of Newspaper Editors survey, 40 percent of responding newspapers in the United States have all-white staffs. This, sadly enough, is an improvement from last year's 50 percent. The Los Angeles Times represents a community that is 60% minority with a staff that is 80% white. Though these numbers probably seem typical of most Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-921836862003-04-07T12:05:00.000-12:002003-04-07T18:46:07.000-12:00"I can't leave you alone."
The message in this Fabolous video epitomizes the reason that the divorce rate in America is slightly over 50% (and Fab, thanks for writing "Damn" out for us -- we weren't sure of the correct spelling. Who knew there was a silent "n"?). And Beyonce's "In the Club" butchering epitomizes the reason that Hot 107.9 gives me a headache. Who thought it was a good idea to Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-920075082003-04-04T10:09:00.000-12:002003-04-05T06:33:33.000-12:00"Time is on my side."
No, the possess-by-touch Devil from Fallen hasn't gotten me (although I wouldn't mind being in a Denzel movie), and no I haven't joined the Rolling Stones. I went to the warm, inviting city of New York yesterday, had an extremely successful meeting with my mentor at a certain publishing company I want to work for, and could not be happier about the result.
Actually, truth Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-917390702003-03-31T11:33:00.000-12:002003-03-31T11:35:06.000-12:00"Never has every member in one crew been so diverse. Trying to out-do the last verse that I birthed--that is my curse."
I hate fake people. If one more person who I know doesn't like me asks about my well-being with feigned interest, I'm going to snap. I don't like you. You don't like me. You know I know you don't like me. Let's just agree to disagree. All these fake "catch-up" conversations Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-912330962003-03-23T06:39:00.000-12:002003-03-23T07:17:09.000-12:00"Go on about my life; I'm doing fine. Besides, what would I say if I had you on the line? Same old story, not much to say..."
Hearts are broken everyday.
It's almost 5 a.m. Sunday morning, and Jewel's vintage SNL performance has me thinking about the first time I got my heart broken. It was the worst. I still don't think I'm over him. That's sad, huh? But I mean that. I wonder if I'll ever be Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-903149642003-03-07T06:56:00.000-12:002003-03-07T07:28:08.000-12:00I had planned to complain about Bush's press conference last night, but a more urgent matter has me sidetracked:
Subj: Admission to Stanford Law SchoolDate: 3/7/2003 1:08:34 PM Eastern Standard TimeTo: Bethcep@aol.comSent from the Internet (Details)
Dear Ms. Perry,
On behalf of the Admissions Committee, I am pleased to inform you of your admission to the Class of 2006 at Stanford Law School.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-901884122003-03-05T07:11:00.000-12:002003-03-06T12:44:46.000-12:00�Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life?�
Well, folks, I�m back. Like Batman, I�ve returned. I�m not sure if it�s been long enough to merit a dramatic introduction, but I have a penchant for the dramatic even when it�s unwarranted. Or so they say.
Change. Heraclitus marveled at its ineffability. L�Oreal commercials romanticize it. India.Arie says it�sBethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-897155692003-02-25T03:41:00.000-12:002003-02-25T03:41:00.030-12:00I got into USC. 1 down, 4 to go. I'm batting .200 as of now. Fair enough.
Street Fighter called me yesterday sounding all depressed. I'm beginning to think he may be psychologically disturbed. I've saved his number under "Do Not Answer" on my phone. His number is next to that of the Puerto Rican mafioso from the Times Square Internet Cafe. See archives.
Anyway, enough for now. More later. Good Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-895997842003-02-23T03:15:00.000-12:002003-02-23T06:49:25.000-12:00"So what's going on, sugar? How is your life, baby?"
Anyone familiar with the AUC experience knows that freshman year dating consists of talking on the phone, dancing together at Lower Manley parties, waiting in line for visitation and occasionally taking the MARTA to Mick's. I "dated" this one guy for all of two weeks, at which point he started to get on my nerves, and I stopped calling.
I metBethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-894342552003-02-20T02:46:00.000-12:002003-02-20T06:37:20.000-12:00"I don't deserve this...Talking to your answering service."
Ahh...The Leverts are always good for a laugh.
Getting cellular phone calls from numbers I don't recognize is one of the most frustrating things I go through. Sometimes I answer them; sometimes I figure I'd rather not waste my daytime minutes. I can't take answering them lightly, though. Two weeks ago, I rolled out of bed at 10:00 on aBethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-892176762003-02-16T15:25:00.000-12:002003-02-16T15:36:48.000-12:00Remember this entry?
[4/9/2002 12:50:54 PM]
Every year, Spelman salutes the achievements of her most prized alumnae on the Saturday before April 11 (the anniversary of the day Spelman was founded in 1881). This is normal enough, but of course, I wouldn't writing about it if everything were okay. Believing that our choice of colors (blue and white) make Tiffany & Co and Spelman College logical Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-888790202003-02-10T11:57:00.000-12:002003-02-13T22:54:33.000-12:00So I didnt go to the MTV stuff, but I wish I had. There was an open bar and free smorgasboard of shrimp, steak and lobster that somehow fed 2000 people. Mmm. I went instead to Club Delta to watch people sing and dance for the amusement of fickle crowd of rowdy AUCers. I must say that I enjoyed myself. A friend of mine attended the National Basketball Players Association gala Saturday night and Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-886752242003-02-06T11:58:00.000-12:002003-02-06T11:58:33.640-12:00Such a hot mess.
And I hate to say it, but this is even worse.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-886377502003-02-05T19:56:00.000-12:002003-02-05T19:56:35.316-12:00I made the fatal mistake today... I called someone and accidentally asked for someone else. My dumb ass dialed the wrong number. It was kinda like this (names have been changed to protect the guilty):
Me (thinking I've just called Franz's house): Can I speak to Franz?
Jerry (knowing it's me and feeling a bit angry): No, but you can speak to Jerry.
Me: Oops.
Jerry: Do you want me to let you go soBethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-886012112003-02-05T06:23:00.000-12:002003-02-05T06:43:17.000-12:00"Are you serious?"
Today, ladies and gentlemen, is a sad, sad day. Flowers wilted; the sky turned grey, and smiles faded from faces. Today is dismal because today, as a result of the corruption of that damn supply/demand curve, I paid for my very last Krispy Kreme doughnut. I resolved to boycott those bastards because they increased prices yesterday. I hadn't been there in months, but I happenedBethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-884324482003-02-02T07:56:00.000-12:002003-02-02T08:01:01.000-12:00"There are two ways of being mistaken: one is to believe what is not; the other is to refuse to believe what is." - Soren Kierkegaard
Twenty-two years ago I came tumbling into the world, screaming and wide-eyed. My first few years were a barrage of hoarding pacifiers under my crib, naming stuffed animals, mimicking adults and trying to stay up even when I was sleepy. I sometimes sit and wonder Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-878215102003-01-21T16:01:00.000-12:002003-01-21T16:09:13.000-12:00Relief.... Genuine, weight of the world off your shoulders, finally finished everything you had to do and can sleep relief.
Ahh, yes. It's such a great feeling, especially for chronic procrastinators/over-exerters like myself. One of the best feelings, if you ask me. I'd put it in the top five with pleasure, reciprocated love, sincere happiness, and a sense of accomplishment.
But anyway, I wentBethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-877700322003-01-20T18:08:00.000-12:002003-01-20T18:08:45.690-12:00I'm starting to notice that people who are over-confident really get on my nerves. I mean, believing in yourself is all well and good, but there is a point after which it all just starts to annoy me. Then again, insecurity isn't exactly the life of the party, so perhaps I'm too picky. Or maybe the ideal happy medium isn't that difficult to achieve.
Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-875799452003-01-16T19:49:00.000-12:002003-01-19T21:08:51.000-12:00"Lost and found and turned around by the fire in your eyes."
Bobby Brown is considered a fugitive by the sheriff in illustrious Dekalb County. Apparently his performance at the American Music Awards on Monday was a violation of his agreement not to leave Georgia until his arraignment on misdemeanor marijuana possession and traffic violations this week. His lawyer was on the evening news, saying,Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-875378842003-01-16T04:03:00.000-12:002003-01-16T11:47:22.000-12:00Last night was the worst night of sleep ever. I think I stared at my ceiling from the hours of 2 am til 9 am. I am in high dudgeon.
And in keeping with my early morning angst, I will now complain. I just watched the Air Force Ones video for the first time; I'd been avoiding it. I've hated the song for the past 6 months but watching a group of nontalented lames bring it to life made me sick to myBethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-875081232003-01-15T13:55:00.000-12:002003-01-17T09:12:23.000-12:00"In high school, you were the man, homie. What the f-ck happened to you?"
Let's say for a minute that I could afford to finance my own Surreal World. Who would be in it? Why, the fallen neighborhood superstars of course: those who were at one time the center of attention, those I used to marvel at, compete with, and in some cases even admire, those who at one point had it all...who have since Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-873099992003-01-12T05:12:00.000-12:002003-01-19T21:15:20.000-12:00�I dreamt that I could paint you with words, but there were no colors bright enough��
Men are funny. The more I spend time with some, the more I realize how much we have in common, how we laugh at the same things, how easy it is to get along with them, and, most importantly, how much I enjoy being around them. Conversations with them are like lower school basketball camp passing drills: I throwBethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-869532842003-01-04T19:21:00.000-12:002003-01-04T19:26:52.000-12:00"You think I have to buy women? I bought you because you said you couldn't be bought."
Indecent Proposal was a pretty strange movie. I just don't see how Demi Moore went from rolling around on the kitchen floor with Woody Harrelson to wearing a black Chinese dress staring at the stars on Robert Redford's $100 million yacht. It's sad what cash will make some people consider. My friend said she Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-869531552003-01-04T19:16:00.000-12:002003-01-04T19:16:58.986-12:00"Don't call it a comeback. I've been here for years."
Hi there. Did you miss me? My break was fine, thanks. It consisted of a little bit of sleep, lots of time with family and friends and the constant struggle of wanting to relax but still somehow having a million things to do (i.e. applications, proposals, thesis, greeting cards, taking my poodle to get sequined Christmas wreaths put on her Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-858611332002-12-11T10:52:00.000-12:002002-12-12T05:32:38.000-12:00Can't leave just yet...
Gotta make a few announcements.
First, somebody stop the presses. Joe is back to put the rest of us to shame with his charismatic command of the English language. And he calls himself a "fledgling" writer. Scoff.
And speaking of the English language, this brings me to my next point. The following are NOT actual words:
1. Irregardless... The enterprising man's Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-857722672002-12-09T19:50:00.000-12:002002-12-11T14:10:57.000-12:00Ah yes. I believe it's time for another blog hiatus... not that I've been noticeably prolific as of late. I'll be back in a little while.
:)
cep.
Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-857026422002-12-08T13:38:00.000-12:002002-12-08T17:00:54.000-12:00"That's the thing about relationships: Sometimes they look prettier from the outside."
First things first... This is absolutely wonderful. Click them one at a time and enjoy. The one on the far right is really into it.
Second, congratulations to the winners of the Persian weblogs competition. Good job, guys. What an ingenius idea, a Persian weblog competition. Wish I'd thought of that.
Calvin,Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-856690152002-12-07T17:58:00.000-12:002002-12-07T17:58:54.133-12:00"Denial is not a reflex of logic, and its comforts are fickle and temporary. Seen, unseen, the smoke eventually kills." -Randall Robinson
cep.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-855807682002-12-05T18:57:00.000-12:002002-12-07T05:50:18.000-12:00"The natural end which all men have is their own happiness.�
That's one of the more useful statements Kant ever made. But then again, you can't expect too many poignant moments from a man who never left the 15 mile radius of his birthplace in Germany. Or can you?
What makes me happy? Someone asked me that the other day in a dramatic fit of exasperation. I guess he was sick of guessing. The Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-854826062002-12-04T02:31:00.000-12:002002-12-04T02:31:49.976-12:00I lack inspiration as of late. I wonder what that means. Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-852419002002-11-28T17:58:00.000-12:002002-11-28T17:58:53.446-12:00Some people just need to get out a little more.
cep.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-852205732002-11-28T07:07:00.000-12:002002-11-28T18:00:07.000-12:00"This year, I am thankful for..."
So yea... Happy Thanksgiving everyone. What a day it is. I type this as my candied yams sit in the oven and my dulce de leche pie chills in the refrigerator. At one point, there was a sweet potato pie in the works as well, but. Uh... That didn't quite work out.
Anyhow, I'll be heading over to Tiff and Elan's in a few to await our poorly planned, semi Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-851173672002-11-26T05:42:00.000-12:002002-11-27T07:50:34.000-12:00Whalen is right: If you want to know if someone's been reading your blog, then say something about them.
Hi JB.
:)
cep.
Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-850442632002-11-24T19:45:00.000-12:002002-11-25T15:21:13.000-12:00"Back on the block."
As he so often does, my dear friend Faraji has once again made me defiant. He's good at that. (Those who actually clicked the link may scroll to the bottom of that ass-bearing entry to see what I'm referring to.) Stuff like that coupled with the joy I predict I'll get from perusing my entries in old age have incited me to renege on my no personal life discussion policy--at Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-848587472002-11-20T19:27:00.000-12:002002-11-24T19:41:26.000-12:00I'm at the point where it finally sank in that anyone who wants to can read what I say here. This means I'm leaning toward less personal life discussion and more current event commentary. There are a few issues I want to speak on...the Morehouse beating, Michael's dangling baby, Queen Latifah's DUI arrest... But I just don't have the energy right now.
A pandering sycophant once said my writing Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-846670012002-11-17T06:19:00.000-12:002002-11-19T04:32:46.000-12:00I think I'm going to change this a little.
Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-844089942002-11-11T21:02:00.000-12:002002-11-11T21:28:03.000-12:00"Never was, ain't never gonna be sheeit."
I am realizing more and more that I have a bad habit. I mean, considering that imperfection is one of my better qualities, I admittedly have several bad habits (i.e. I tend to screen my calls; I'm never asleep before 2 or 3, even on nights before my 9 a.m. class; I commit myself to too many things and end up stressed trying to do my best at all of them; Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-842078502002-11-07T16:19:00.000-12:002002-11-08T14:24:22.000-12:00"I put this on my life..."
This is what I want to do with my life.
cep.
Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-841214912002-11-06T04:16:00.000-12:002002-11-06T04:38:45.000-12:00"Cry me a river."
After class yesterday, I really just wanted to go home. I really just wanted to put on some sweats and grab a blanket. I had absolutely no interest in spending any more time in that damn tropical storm Isidore reincarnate that was running around Atlanta acting a fool yesterday. However, I sucked it up and braved the torrential rain sans umbrella (I was so busy smiling at my Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-841020852002-11-05T17:51:00.000-12:002002-11-05T17:52:40.000-12:00Damn. This is what I have to look forward to? :(
YOU KNOW YOU'RE OUT OF COLLEGE WHEN....
1. Your salary is less than your tuition.
2. Your potted plants stay alive.
3. Shacking in twin-sized beds seems absurd.
4. You keep more food than beer in the fridge.
5. You have to pay your own credit card bill.
7. You haven't seen a soap opera in over a year.
8. 8:00 AM is not early.
9. You Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-840328892002-11-04T13:08:00.000-12:002002-11-04T18:30:02.000-12:00"On the good ship lollipop, it's a sweet trip to a candy shop where Bon Bons play on the sunny beach of Peppermint Bay. Lemonade stands everywhere, Cracker Jack bands fill the air, and there you are, happy landing on a chocolate bar."
The always accomodating Mr. Smith hooked that up for me. Many thanks.
A friend wrote in asking about the Chris Rock interview. No, it wasn't an exclusive in any Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-838770822002-11-01T03:37:00.000-12:002002-11-03T06:21:27.000-12:00THINGS THAT I LIKE:
Eminem. I actually want to see 8 Mile.
Janet Jackson. I admittedly didn't buy her last album, and I'm not really feeling any of what she's come out with lately. However, circa 1993, she could do no wrong. And the last half of the Velvet Rope album was damn near perfect. She has her excusable moments of ridiculousness, but when it comes down to it, she has a knack for puttingBethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-837207482002-10-29T03:51:00.000-12:002002-11-17T06:15:20.000-12:00Hi again.
I had to take a break from my hiatus (I like how that sounds) to write my Homecoming entry. Ya can't leave home without the Homecoming entry.
First things first, the fashion show was last Tuesday. It was interesting... When I tell you that it wasn't anything but a bunch of confused people struggling to walk up a runway, do a halfturn and walk off, I'm not lying. One female, who will Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-833684432002-10-22T08:50:00.000-12:002002-10-22T08:50:52.130-12:00I realized today that I've forgotten how to be a good student. I had just written a long testimonial explaining when and how this had happened, and then my computer froze. I don't have the will or the desire to rewrite it, so I won't. Just know I'll be breaking from this lovely site and other distracting periphery for a minute until I remember.
In the meantime, visit my links. Jylana pays me $10Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-833072542002-10-21T05:59:00.000-12:002002-10-22T05:20:53.000-12:00"Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen."
So I'm getting married this weekend.
My fiance and I just couldn't seem to wait, so we're not going to. Friday afternoon there will be a small wedding and reception in my apartment. I just can't remember who I'm marrying.
See, my friend Shevonne is up to her wiley tricks to get out of work again. When she visited me this summer in New York, she Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-833065442002-10-21T05:43:00.000-12:002002-10-21T05:51:57.000-12:00So the response to my last post had very little to do with the contents. Most people seemed more intrigued by the opening quote. A reader who wears his cell phone on his belt made the argument that he does it for utility moreso than aesthetics. ("Where else am I supposed to put it? It's too cumbersome for my pocket!")
This is an interesting viewpoint that I can appreciate. However, to the Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-830773282002-10-16T07:51:00.000-12:002002-10-16T07:51:29.310-12:00"I would never date a man who wore his cell phone on his belt. As far as deal breakers go, festooning oneself with Motorola technology is as revealing a personality indicator as leaving a bad tip."
When I was in New York, I used to stop by a tiny market on 110th and Broadway most days on the way back from work. I can't remember the name of the place -- it very well could have just been called "Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-829498902002-10-13T16:44:00.000-12:002002-10-14T12:33:11.000-12:00"Been bearing this burden for too many of my days, looks like breezes of Autumn done finally blew my way."
Damali spent her last day in an interesting way. She woke up, worked out, talked to her dad (she lived at home), and went to class. After that, she went to see Omari (her little brother) at his job. After that, she called her mother and asked her to lunch. After lunch, she called her dad Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-829279422002-10-13T06:27:00.000-12:002002-10-13T10:41:15.000-12:00Updated the site so I could add links. Check out a few of my friends as well as some of my favorite sites.
cep.Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-828456902002-10-11T03:49:00.000-12:002002-10-11T13:55:28.000-12:00"And the whole world has to answer right now just to tell you once again... Who's bad?"
Yesterday the homie Cal informed me of a New York Post article in which LaToya Jackson's ex-husband discussed his plans to write a book chronicling (is that a word?) his exploits living with the Jackson family. I forgot dude's name, but he claims that Michael used to physically abuse Bubbles, and one time theBethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-827781122002-10-09T17:31:00.000-12:002002-10-10T02:48:18.000-12:00"Give it to me."
A few things to say about my frustration with popular music. There is a nasty rumor floating around that Jay-Z was paid by Motorola to shout out their 2-way pagers. A Newsweek columnist was audacious enough to ridicule Busta Rhymes for not capitalizing off his marketing power that tripled Courvoisier's sales for a good month or two. I wonder how much Nelly and crew are making Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-825733012002-10-05T12:00:00.000-12:002002-10-06T14:09:57.000-12:00"Well, I guess I got my swagger back."
I took the LSAT this morning. I reported to Clark Atlanta University promptly at 8:27 a.m. and did not leave until around 1:30. Yes, folks, five great hours of testing all in one glorious day. I'm used to taking lengthy tests (which has helped increase my mental stamina), so I made it through, but my brain felt like a trampled grapefruit 5 minutes after it Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-824324942002-10-02T08:39:00.000-12:002002-10-05T12:30:34.000-12:00"Don't be fooled by the baby face."
The other day at the Morehouse football game, my friend pointed out a little girl sitting in front of us who looked just like I did as a child. She had her unruly hair in four braids with thick parts; big, curious eyes, a pouty mouth (pouty, not potty); and she looked angry and upset. Don't get me wrong; I had my days when I would hug and kiss anyone who came Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-823550852002-09-30T19:49:00.000-12:002002-10-01T12:42:41.000-12:00First things first: I forgot to congratulate Natalie for guessing the source of the "whiskey and rye" quote. She correctly stated that it was from Don McLean's American Pie. Good song. "But I knew I was out of luck the day the music died."
Nat, you're on a roll. Too bad you didn't make it to the game. :(
Second, that green font was getting on my last nerve. It was too alien-like. These stone Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-822665272002-09-28T22:19:00.000-12:002002-10-01T12:47:36.000-12:00"If Malcolm X had died at 25, he would've been known as just a convict. If Martin Luther King, Jr. had died at 25, he would've been known as just a preacher."
One Tuesday night during my freshman year in high school, I went to see R. Kelly, LL Cool J, Xscape, and Solo at Ryman Auditorium for $17.50. As I couldn't drive at 14 but still felt too cool to have my parents pick me up, I spent the Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-820783482002-09-24T16:00:00.000-12:002002-09-25T16:02:07.000-12:00"Them good old boys were drinkin whiskey and rye, singing, 'This'll be the day that I die.'"
So it looks like we're going to war. I hear the army is calling in the reserves and what not. Tom Daschle is about to bust a gut asking for an apology, but he's reportedly still going to support Bush's war proposal once they revise it to limit W's autonomy. Sigh.
And now Tony Blair pulls from thin air Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-819948312002-09-23T02:45:00.000-12:002002-09-23T06:53:47.000-12:00"I've seen fire and I've seen rain."
When I was in Kindergarten, I had a friend named Britt Johnson. She was a skinny white girl with dirty blond hair and a big nose, divorced parents and a penchant for Nacho Doritos. Her mother worked at the Country Music Hall of Fame, and her grandparents owned a farm in some rural city in Tennessee (God knows there are plenty of them). She would invite us to Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-818852092002-09-20T07:54:00.000-12:002002-10-24T14:10:04.000-12:00"Hey, you! You with the light skin! Stop!"
I read somewhere that in a small town in New Jersey, persistent flirting is against the law. I wish I lived there.
A little while ago, in lieu of a name, a less than inventive young man thought he'd comment on my complexion as a means of getting my attention. When said young man noticed that I didn't stop, he decided to run after me so that he could Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-815332012002-09-12T13:45:00.000-12:002002-09-17T10:52:10.000-12:00So...
The other day I pulled off the Interstate and saw a bum on the off-ramp with a sign that said "New in town. Homeless. Hungry."
I paused, utterly confused. What do you mean you're new in town? Why would you MOVE somewhere to be homeless? I mean I'm assuming you were homeless before the uprooting but... What are the thought processes leading up to a decision to relocate to a foreign city Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-815242922002-09-12T09:50:00.000-12:002002-09-12T13:45:28.000-12:00So I got a letter from someone I used to date who read my last post and became extremely offended. Turns out he was just confused, so I now feel a desire to clarify a few points in order to avoid further misconstuction.
First, 5 minutes at a party when the music is loud and its very crowded is rather lengthy, so I'll say 3 to 4.
Second, the criteria I mentioned do not apply to everyone; I Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-813856632002-09-09T14:39:00.000-12:002002-09-21T10:38:01.000-12:00"How empty of me to be so full of you.�
That was Janet�s solemn declaration preceding track 15, a song about abusive love on her Velvet Rope album. I type this as the plastic, briefs-wearing black man from my birthday cake stares at me from across my kitchen table. I washed the icing off him and put him on the mantle just for kicks. Yeah, baby.
Miss Jackson�s quote seemed appropriate after theBethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3766740.post-813180152002-09-08T04:54:00.000-12:002002-09-21T10:41:03.000-12:00Sorry for shaking things up. I know all of the stability-loving creatures of habit are probably all wondering what�s with the change. The reason is two-fold.
First, Rose-colored glasses�in all of its sporadic, unfocused glory�has been picked up by a print affiliate of equally sporadic and unfocused nature, so I�ve been forced to rename my web-log. I�ve still not decided on a replacement and am Bethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15660580821949284262noreply@blogger.com