filthy

Happy New Year.

Now that that is out of the way, it's time for some serious bitching. First of all, lemme pose this question... If 4 people live in an apartment, but each person has their own room, then doesn't that mean that while the individual rooms can be fit to the individual occupant's liking, the common area that everyone shares must be suitable and confortable for everyone?

The answer is yes. Whether you agree to it or not. The bedroom is one's personal space--fit for doing any and everything that the person who sleeps there wants to do. If they want to keep it dirty, that is their perogative. If they want to keep it clean, that is their perogative. You will never hear me complain about how dirty someone's room is other than my own. That is their business.

But when my (as well as others') bathroom, kitchen, and living room is trashed by one person, then it's my business... someone else's shit, but my business.

Let me tell you how my apartment looked on the last day of the year 2004: I walk into my apartment already worried... One the phone while I have been at home, Jenee asked me several times if I had been back to the apartment or if Nick had. I kept saying no and kept asking her why she was asking. She kept saying, "Just wondering." Then there was also the fact that it was a college apartment complex and most college students go home for the holidays, so I was thinking that maybe a burglary could have happened. Oh no... It wasn't that. Neither my own twisted mind nor Jenee's questioning could have prepared me for what I saw there in my apartment...

Now remember, when I left, I made sure everything was neat and in its place. Nick even came to clean out all of the perishable stuff from the refrigerator. We both secured things and turned fans and the heat off.

Well, sometime between then and last night, someone had been back at the apartment and just doing things in a completely self centered and inconsiderate way... as if he were the only person (or he and his friends were the only PEOPLE) living at the apartment. The futon (which was broken and couldn't really go all the way flat) was laid out in the DEAD CENTER of the living room. It was turned so it met up with the sofa... so it looked as if someone was trying to make a huge king sized bed type thing. Patrick's sheet was off of it and thrown on the floor (thankfully, 'cause it looked like dirty things were done in that make shift king sized bed). Patrick's blanket was not so lucky. It was in a mess of dirty sheets on the futon. This futon was not made, mind you--the sheets were just sitting on it sloppily... like someone had SLOPPILY rolled around in them. Anyway, there were clothes strewn all over the place. In one corner, shirts... in another, socks... in another, A BRA. WTF? Our high table and stools were pushed way up against a corner and all over the table were sheets and packets of black feathers. Most of the packets were empty--cause the feathers were just lying all over the place. There were also pencils and glue. It looked as if someone was trying to make a drag costume (I mean there was already a bra on the floor). Then, in the kitchen, there were dishes in the sink... and not just a few dishes. There were at least like 5 cups in there... WHO ALL HAD BEEN HANGING OUT IN THE APARTMENT? AND WHY DID ONE OF THOSE BITCHES LEAVE HER DAMN BRA?

Over in the bathroom area (the one that I share, not Patrick and Nick's--lucky them), my side of the counter and my sink were messy. I made sure that I cleaned MY sink and MY mirror before I left. I ended up cleaning the bathroom ALL SEMESTER LONG, so I wasn't going to clean the other side of the sink and mirror this time. When I did that, you shoulda seen it... it looked like a Windex or 409 commercial, where they show the before and after sides. My side was so clean and neat. And the other side had water spots and toothpaste and smudges all over the mirror... Well, when I came back yesterday, I had water spots and toothpaste and smudges all over MY mirror! Someone had been using my sink! It just made me feel for those poor 3 bears when that Goldilocks ho came into their house. The toilet (that I had cleaned just before leaving for the holidays--and that I had cleaned in November... and October... and September) had junk in it. Not even the decency to flush the damn toilet!

I have no idea what the hell happened in that apartment. All I know is when I walked in, followed by Missy and Kiki, I was so thoroughly embarrassed. We immediately got to work on a cleaning campaign that included returning the furniture to the correct spots, discarding all the sketchy and random clothing/drag materials/underwear to the perptrator's room, washing the dishes, wiping down MY SIDE of the sink area in the bathroom, and washing Patrick's poor blanket... 'cause people were supposed to be coming over to help ring in the new year within the half hour.

So once again, I pose the question: If 4 people live in an apartment, but each person has their own room, then doesn't that mean that while the individual rooms can be fit to the individual occupant's liking, the common area that everyone shares must be suitable and confortable for everyone? EVEN IF IT IS WINTER BREAK, ALL THE ROOMMATES HAVE KEYS, AND TWO OF WHICH LIVE IN VERY CLOSE PROXIMITY?

There is no excuse for the mess that was 101-A last night. But frankly, I wasn't incredibly surprised. Like I said, I have been the cleaner of the bathroom for the past semester, and Patrick, Nick, and I have been the cleaners of pretty much ALL the dishes all semester. I guess the thing that took me aback the most was the sketchiness of it all... it seriously looked like kinky feather sex had been had in our living room.

for the love of money

The O'Jays definitely said it best. It's crazy what people will say or do for the love of money.

My dad used to work at Rich's Department Store. He worked there for a hella long time, only to quit when my little brother wrote this letter in 4th grade saying he wanted his daddy home for christmas. At Rich's, biennially, they have inventory, when they count up all the stock in the store. People talk about inventory the way someone would talk about getting a spinal tap... they hate it. They are apparently the shittiest 2 weeks of the year.

My mom and dad told me that I should do it. I didn't really want to... but because of their persisting and statements like, "Why wouldn't you want to do it? Everyone wants a little extra money! What is wrong with you? You need the experience," I am doing it. I don't want to. I would love to stay home and do nothing next week... my LAST week of doing that. But now I have to work from 6 am to noon for $6 and hour.

When I told my parents that I didn't want to do it because of it's bad reputation, my dad was like, "No one is 100% content with their job." Well that sucks for them. Why would you want to work in a job that you don't enjoy? That makes no sense whatsoever. If you can't wake up every morning and enjoy what you are going to do that day, then why do it? What is your motivation? I mean, my dad should know... HE QUIT RICH'S for goodness sake.

Whatever... "money, money, money, money... MONEY."

the dentist

They should pay people to go to the dentist. That stuff hurts. I went today, and it was my first time since 2000. I guess that was probably why it hurt so bad. Apparently, stuff had bult up around my teeth that was causing my gums to bleed randomly. Don't worry, I'm not going to say anything else, because I don't want you to be grossed out like I have been for the past 2 weeks... I won't give any specifics.

Anyway, the dentist hurt like a mofo. They want to do it again in a week and a half, but go DEEPER this time. I'm so nervous. But the dentist said my gums will feel great after that. ::sigh::

That trip to the dentist comes after one more week of being at home alone (seriously alone... my parents will be back at work and my brother will be back at school), the beastly Praxis II on January 8, and my first peer wedding on January 9. I just want to go back to school. I just want to be around people my age... that aren't MARRIED. Geez. And when I say MARRIED, that doesn't mean bound together by a legal document, but I mean stuck so far up each others' ass that they have lost social skills with UNsignificant others.

Anyway, tomorrow is New Years Eve, and the only thing I am looking forward to is the fact that the day after tomorrow, it will officially be the year in which i graduate from college. That is exciting... and the ONLY thing exciting about tomorrow. Even though I have the opportunity to hang out with people my age tomorrow, part of me doesn't want to. People don't really know what they want to do. And I would be content with sleeping at 12 o'clock (and that's saying a lot, 'cause I normally don't go to sleep until 2 or 3).

Oh well... at the end of the day, there's only one thing that has been there for me whenever I needed it. GSN. Happy 2005, GSN... No whammy, final answer, big money, you are the weakest link... goodbye.

king congruence's top 10s of 2004

Since I have become a television guru in the past 2 weeks and seen top 10 list after top 10 list, I think I have beomce an expert in pop culture and TV culture. I have seen specials about A-listers, their weddings, vacation spots, Christmas gifts, cars, and homes... and I think my opionion, I can rank things pretty well (in all actuality, I hate those people from like In Touch magazine and US Weekly who go on VH1 and profess to know the secrets of Britney Spears and her backwards Kabbalah tatoo). Here goes some of MY top 10 lists for the year... and for all time.

Top 10 Females on RW/RR Battle of the Sexes 2
10. Tina - She's a bitch, but she can play the damn game.
9. Coral -Also a bitch, but she has stepped up a lot this season. Her little fling with Abe also showed that she could actually have human feelings.
8. Rachel - Not a novice challenger, but put forth a really good effort without being incredibly dramatic.
7. Sophia - There are 6 team members left, and Sophia is one of the only ones who actually likes people for who they are. If she didn't pout so much, she'd be closer to #1.
6. Robin - A wet-behind-the-ears newbie, but doing a kick ass job.
5. Aneesa - A loyal friend to most of the girls on the team. At least she left because of politics, not because she was a skeeza.
4. Arissa - The baby is scared of heights, but she beat the guys in that bike ramp challenge. She also knows when to keep quiet.
3. Tonya -MY BABY! I love Tonya. Given a different situation, I bet she'd be a hella tight person to hang out with. The reason she wasn't liked very much was only because she was playing the game, and doing a damn good job of it.
2. Ibis - Known as "The Puzzle Person," she was smart, cunning, and not to opinionated. They really would have done well to have kept her and kicked Coral off.
1. Ruthie - She's sweet, smart, and silent, but powerful. Ruthie is the best player on the team. She gets stuff done without getting on people's nerves. She has come a LONG way from when she was on RW Hawaii.

Top 10 Best Game Shows on GSN
10. The Newlywed Game - It's always fun to watch married people bare it all, but not when they are bearing boring stuff from the 70s.
9. Match Game - A great show. It would be even greater if today's viewing audience could play along--but they can't because of the antiquated catch phrases. But Brett Somers MAKES that show.
8. Win Ben Stein's Money - Ben Stein + Jimmy Kimmel = pure genius. The chemistry is hilarious.
7. Millionaire? - Regis is such a nice guy! But those questions past question 9 are pretty much impossible. And why does the 50/50 always take away the two obvious wrong answers?
6. Whammy! - A remake that has actually kept the decency of the old show. There is only one thing that makes the original better...
5. Press Your Luck - THE PRESS YOUR LUCK THEME SONG IS SO MUCH FUN!
4. Lingo - This would have been #1 for me last summer.... before they added that ho Stacey. All she is is a Scandinavian sex pot. Chuck can do it by himself.
3. Friend or Foe - Kennedy is the ONLY reason this is in the top 3. Definitely the funniest host on GSN.
2. Russian Roulette - Who doesn't like watching people drop through holes in the floor?
1. Weakest Link - Anne Robinson is a goddess. She's a bitch, and I love her. BUT, the only reason she is so bitchy is because those fools can't answer those EASY questions right.

Top 7 Nick at Nite Shows (There are only 7 shows)
7. Full House - Seriously, I think everyone got enough of the Tanner girls their first time around. It's so saccharine sweet... ugh.
6. Fatherhood - A brilliant cartoon developed by Bill Cosby, but it doesn't really fit with the rest of the Nick at Nite programming. It really is a kid's show, despite the adult premise of the show.
5. Who's The Boss? - Tony Micelli is a little too pleasant in his situation working as the housekeeper for Angela. Mona is hilarious, but I don't buy the actual premise of the show.
4. The Fresh Prince of Bel Air - This show is hilarious. All the characters in the show make a perfect family, much like the #1 on the list, but honestly, who can beat the Huxtables.
3. Wings - I would LOVE to spend a day at Sandpiper. This airport looks like so much fun. Joe and Brian are the typical bickering brothers, and they couldn't be played by better actors. Faye and Antonio are also especially funny.
2. Roseanne - This is a real family. The Connors of Lanford are everything that the Tanners of San Fransisco aren't. I love this family... the good, the bad, the ugly, the sad. This was the beginning of reality television.
1. The Cosby Show - This is also a real family. They aren't run of the mill midwesterners like the Connors, but they are the forerunners of the Banks of The Fresh Prince--They are an upper class black family with a bunch of kids. But unlike the Banks, they have one element that gives them tons of cool points--one of the funniest men in the world playing their dad.

Top 10 Nick Jr. Shows
10. Little Bear - This is a really child friendly cartoon, and I like it because when I was young I read the books. It lacks excitement though.
9. Littleburg - Our first on the list with puppets and humans. This is a concept that I really like. it mixes fantasy with reality and makes for a lot of fun, however it isn't quite as memorable as the others on the list.
8. Ms. Spider - 3D animation at it's best. This is a cartoon based on the Ms. Spider books. I don't like the bad guy in this cartoon. He is a spider, just like the main character, so I don't see what sets him apart as the bad guy--except for the fact that he looks horrific.
7. The Rubbadubbers - A show borrowed from our BBC friends, this claymation type show is tons of bathtime fun. The songs and story lines are great, but the fact that everything takes place around the bathtub gets a little boring.
6. Maggie and the Ferocious Beast - THE PIG'S NAME IS HAMILTON! I love it. This is a really sweet show about the friendship between a little girl, Maggie, and her made up ferocious friend Beast. Beast is the furthest thing from ferocious though. He lacks a lot of common sense, and Hamilton the pig is a random character. It's a fun show, but kinda random all together.
5. Blue's Clues - This show looks like it takes place on a felt play board. It's a lot of fun and very educational. Unfortunately, it is a little older than the top 4, which places it at number 5.
4. Little Bill - This very unique cartoon is based on the humor of Bill Cosby. The man has a great grasp for what goes on in little kids' heads. This is brilliant and viewers will find themselves really liking the main character, Little Bill.
3. Lazy Town - This is the second show on the list with a mix of puppets and people. There is a better mix here than that of Littleburg. It's got fun, action packed plots, and bright, colorful scenery. This is definitely one of Nick Jr.'s best shows.
2. Dora The Explorer - This show makes learning fun. I bet kid's don't even realize how much they learn from this show. Spanish, geography, music, math. This show has got it all, plus the fun plots and sing-along songs.
1. The Backyardigans - The newest show on the list, this show is tons of fun. This is 3D animated, but it has dances choreographed by real dancers. The songs are written by extremely talented songwriters, and it is written by peopole who truly had a love for backyard adventure as kids. Another huge plus for this #1 is it's multicultural cast. Even though they are animals, it is obvous to tell by their names that they are of different ethnic backgrounds.

I think that's enough of me sharing my expertize on television as of right now. This break has been really boring, but I have thoroughly enjoed vegging out in front of the television all day and all night long. Tomorrow, a new episiode of The Real World comes on. Landon is supposed to go homicidal on Melanie tomorrow, so it should be good! Now it's time to go watch #7 of the top 10 GSN games, which is already in progress...

the last day of childhood

Christmas Day, 2004... I believe it was the last day of childhood. Why you ask? 'Cause for some reason, people at church today decided to start radically treating me like an adult. I mean, it's not weird that they have started treating me like an adult, but it's just the short amount of time in which they began doing this.

I was at church last Sunday, and I was even there Wednesday night. I was still "Hammy" and "Hammerhead" then. But today all of a sudden, people didn't recognize me, and I was called "Hamilton" in grown-up hoity toity voices. I mean, okay, these are people that have known me since I was 8. Regardless of how old I am now, I still expect them to treat me like I am younger than them. I don't want to be on the same level as them... to a degree...

You know, I want to grow up, definitely, but for some reason, being treated the same as those people at church just doesn't sit well with me. Maybe it's because of how spiritually mature they are??? I dunno. It's just something...

But seriously, Ms. Pam came up to me at church and said, "Hey, Hammy! Oh, excuse me--Hi, Hamilton. You're too old for Hammy now." I was like, "Um, no, you can still call me that." Then, her husband (I dunno if this is coincidence or what) LaVelle came up and was like, "Hey, Hammerhead! I mean, Hamilton." I just looked at him like he was insane. Did I have a gray hair? Do I need Botox? What's the dilly, yo? I even shaved this morning!

This lead me to the conclusion that yesterday was the last day of my childhood. But if my childhood did just end this week, it was probably Christmas Eve. I didn't get anything "fun" for Christmas yesterday. And to be quite honest, Christmas just felt like another day. I was talking to Missy last night, and she was like, "You know we are getting old now. You got stuff for your career." She was referring to the leather bag I got for student teaching.

It's true, unfortunately.

Anyway, one last thing that happened today at church that really made an impression on me. The congregational hymn today was "Yield Not to Temptation." One of my favorites because of the way it sounds. Today I came to appreciate it for more than that though. It will always be a song of inspiration to me because of these 2 lines:

To him that o'ercometh, God giveth a crown;
Through faith we shall conquer, though often cast down

A crown. It made me smile.

See, while this whole King Congruence psuedonym started out as a playful little name from 10th grade geometry class, I have always wanted to be that of a king... someone who is looked up to, admired, highly respected, and never intimidated. Well, I was certainly not made that way. This is, however, what I strive to be. I strive to be the best... and the words of this song help me believe that. If I can overcome my obstacles and do my best, I can be the best, and actually achieve that figurative crown... and the way to overcome my obstacles is only by faith... the knowledge that even though I can't see it, it will happen.

Hmm... yeah, I guess I have grown up a little...

3rd shift

My mom says I'm on third shift... When everyone else in the house goes to sleep, I am pretty much just getting started. Not incredibly true most of the time, but today, it kinda was. I went to bed at 4:30 following my favorite episode of Wings on Nick at Nite (the episode where Casey and Brian burn Joe and Helen's house down while having sex). I slept until 1, just in time to catch the theme song of The Backyardigans that I love so dearly. Then I went to lie down in my bed for a little, with no intentions of falling back asleep. But I did until 4:30. So I started the day at 4:30 this afternoon.

Now, it's 1:43 and everyone is in bed... but me. I'm watching Who's the Boss? and just got done preparing some Christmas presents. So, I decided to get on here and play some. It's getting boring and I think I would be more intrigued with what's going on between Angela and Tony over at the television.

...it's so sad that I have become a slave of the television. But I guess it's okay, 'cause I don't really get a chance to watch it during school. I better enjoy this 3rd shift thing while it lasts, 'cause this time next semester, I will have been in the bed for at least 2 hours... Yeah... lemme take advantage of this 3rd shift thing...

bad

When I get asked how my Christmas break has been going, I answer that... bad. It hasn't been good. Lets go over what I have done... watched people install hardwood floors in my house, paint pen cups for all the little bebe's at church, watched hours and hours of GSN, become a Laguna Beach addict (so tragic), finish reading the fifth Harry Potter, completed the first in A Series of Unfortunate Events, stayed up 'til 2 and 3 am, and woken up at 1 pm. Yep. I would say that has been the recipe for a bad break.

Right now (OOH, ROSEANNE IS COMING ON!), I am up watching Nick at Nite, talking to Matt Lub, and making thefacebook my bitch by sending holiday messages to friends from high school, middle school, and I just sent one to a friend from day care. Thefacebook is a wonderful thing.

I decided the other night that I am not going to New Jersey to visit Betsy... lack of money... and a sudden lack of interest. Seriously. All I can say is that it is not time for another engagement... I can't f-ing take it. I'm on engagement overload.

In other news, I'm not even supposed to be on this computer. My dad came downstairs the other night while I was vegging out to--well whaddya know?--Nick at Nite and goes, "You and Donovan aren't allowed on the computer. Y'all broke it." And the record stopped and the cars halted to a stop... I was responsible for this POS computer being "broken?" WTF? I have a 4 year old, cheap ass eMachine and Lord knows that I do my share of word processing and internet browsing. This thing is only about 2 years old and it is a Hewlett-Packard. If this thing is messed up it is no fault of mine... and besides, I JUST GOT HOME LAST WEEK! Well, I expressed my frustration to my mom and she took my side for once... She told me I could get on it when my dad wasn't around. I thought it was funny. Definitely a moment from The Fairly Odd Parents... oh yeah... I have become THE TV junky since I have been home.

Let's see, what else? Oh yeah, Christmas... that is coming up soon. Not like I can tell or anything. There are no signs of Christmas here except for the presents that people from church and my mom's office have given her that are sitting in the corner of the family room by the recliner. Yeah. So Merry Christmas... I miss the way things used to be. My aunt actually told me tonight at church that I am at that age where Christmas isn't for me anymroe. "Christmas is for children," she said. "I have to remind myself of that every year." And she's 34. I thought that once you turn 21, you just kinda figure it out. But I guess not. I kinda think the reason she feels that way though is because she really doesn't have anyone to buy her anything. It's just her and her 13 year old son, so it's not like he can really get her anything too nice. One day, I'm going to get something really nice for my aunt... to make up for her Christmases that she missed out on. Maybe someone will do the same for me when I am 34 and single...

Bad... just bad...

to the eastside high school class of 2001...

Tonight Todd held his annual Christmas party. It's always fun to go to the party because usually it is a chance for people from high school that are at different colleges to get together and reminisce on how things were and talk about how things are going now. This years party was a little different from normal... This is the last one.

See, Todd is graduating from college this May, along with most of the people that go to the party each year. After 4 years, we are going to be completely done with college, which in a way means we will be done with each other. Sure we will always be able to get in touch with each other through e-mail and the phone, but after this year, there is no absolute...

Every year since this one, we could pretty much always count on being home within the vicinity of Eastside and each other at Christmas time. Next year, people will be working jobs, possibly in far away cities, with significant others, and possibly new additions to their families.

Even this year, we discussed some of the people from high school who have already crested that hill in their life... our classmates who are married, have children... It's so weird to think that that time has actually come for us. And you know, in a way, it kinda catches you off guard. Four years ago, we were all at the same spot in our lives... graduating from high school. Now, 4 years later, we all aren't at the same spot anymore. That's kinda scary.

So among that class of about 250, there are now college students, college graduates, graduate students, workers, mothers, fathers, fiancees, husbands, wives... Among that class of 250, there are adults.

And even though this was the last "Todd's Annual Christmas Party," there will be plenty more Christmas parties for all of us... with plenty more people and plenty memories to look back on. Life has pretty much just begun for us. We haven't experienced anything... maybe that is why they call graduation "commencement." Maybe our lives are just now commencing...

negroes

My dad is at it again. I hate when he plays the race card. I hate when ANYONE plays the race card.

Right now, I am listening as he is talking to the men doing our hardwood floors downstairs.

He just told a story about how a man at North Greenville College where he teaches asked him how he can drive the car that he does (a BMW 745iL), and the man was only driving his car (whatever it was). My dad said he asked him, "What do you mean? How can a BLACK man drive a car like this?"

OMG! The statement of an angry black man if I have ever seen one.

Then, I hear the truth about why I live where I live. My dad says, "Well, we got here in 1985 and my wife and I tried to find a black neighborhood. All we could find was Pine Hill and I was like, 'That's it?' So I met this man and asked him if he knew a church we could go to. He directed us to Enoree Fork and we've been over on this side of town ever since." BOO! Excuse me for just one second. I am SO glad that I don't live in a "black neighborhood." And I don't care if I sound like I am "denying my blackness" or whatever. What is considered "a black neighborhood," anyway? Is that a neighborhood void of white people? Because if so, that is the furthest thing from reality if I have ever seen one.

My God?! Why do black people feel the need to segregate themselves from the rest of society. See, there was this thing called the Civil Rights movement that made everyone equal. Blacks, whites, ANYONE can live where ever they want and do whatever they want. Everyone is always talking about how, white people are still suppressing the black man. Well excuse the phrase, but FUCK ALL OF YOU who say that. I know for a fact that it is possible for a black man or woman to do everything that a white man or woman can do.

That dumb bitch Stacie on The Apprentice was like, "You can't be black and go on reality television, because regardless of what you do, you are going to end up being called crazy." Shut the hell up, you peasy headed girl... The reason why YOU were considered crazy is because your damn ass is CRAZY! Kevin on the show didn't say that. He said just the opposite. "No one stereotypes you to be anything on these shows. You end up being labeled exactly what you are. If you are a successful and intelligent individual, you will be seen that way." And "my brotha" made it to the last 4 people on the show.

Don't sit there and tell me that black people can't do it. If you think that, it's because YOU as a black person lack the confidence not in black people, but in yourself. When I tried out for drum major, lots of black people in the band told me that a black person would never be drum major at Clemson. Well here's a big FUCK YOU to them as well... I did it, bitches. AND SO DID LEROY! THAT'S TWO BLACK MOTHERFUCKERS FOR YOU! And if you look back at pictures, there have been black drum majors BEFORE the two of us. So as much as I would like to take pride in saying that I was SO great because I was A BLACK DRUM MAJOR AT CLEMSON, big fucking deal. It happened before me, it will happen after me. On top of that, this man who is somehow related to me, was telling my dad that it was SUCH a big deal for me to be in the position I was in at Clemson because of the history of the university and the race relations therein. WHATEVER! He has yet to tell me the huge statement I made as a black man, but to be completely honest and true, I don't buy it one bit. When Harvey Gantt, the first black student, came to Clemson , they documented it as "Integration with Dignity" or something like that... it says it in this plaque out front of Tillman Hall. Apparently, race relations have not been a big deal at Clemson. Yes it is in the heart of the conservative south, but all conservative southern people are not Klans members that want to see black people fail... just like not all black people are failures at life.

BLACK PEOPLE CAN DO EVERYTHING THAT WHITE PEOPLE CAN DO. We are not better, we are not worse. We are equal. And I am sick of people drawing the line between the two. I am sick of being told not to trust white people. I am sick of being told "what white people do" and "what black people do." I am sick of heing criticized because I talk like "a white person." I am sick of being criticized because I don't hang out with JUST black people. I am sick of other black people segregating themselves from the racial whole. I'm sick of it all.

I am an intelligent, successful, determined, goal oriented HUMAN BEING that does not give a flying rats ass about color or race. The color of my skin is nothing but that, the color of my skin. Within it does not lie disadvantage or advantage. If I am unsuccessful, it is because I, HAMILTON PARKS was not prepared or qualified enough... NOT because I am black.

So this is a warning... I suggest if you are going to discuss race around me, you better think again. I'm through with dealing with race.

changes on bushberry way

Well, my first full day... wait a minute... I am typing in IE... and it's working! HOLY SH*T!

Anyway... today was my first full day at home. I woke up at 12. I had scrambled eggs. I watched GSN. I played on thefacebook. I ate dinner. I watched The Apprentice (boo for Kelly beating Jenn). I played on thefacebook again.

The life of a god, right? WRONG. In between playing on thefacebook and dinner, I experienced 2 pretty weird things at my house. First of all, my mom came home and told me all about "the facelift" our house is getting. Tomorrow, they start putting in hardwood floors all throughout the downstairs. I think it should be pretty nice, although I am not looking forward to moving crap around. Also, we are going to be painting... like EVERYTHING. My house is really open. The foyer and family room are pretty much one big open space. So we are painting the foyer wine and the family room champagne (ooh... alchohol... LOL). It's going to look REALLY different around here. I guess this place could use something to make me want to be here... but it's still no substitute for an f-ing Christmas Tree.

The second weird thing in the house was in the form of my brother walking into the house at 6:15 with keys in his hand. Yes. My little brother is driving now. IT IS SO WEIRD! I feel so old. But, I am SO glad that I don't have to play taxi anymore. At dinner he was all like, "Booooooooooy... I'm so excited! Tomorrow's Friday and I can driiiiiiiiive!" I was like, "So." Apparently it is a big deal that he is going to be able to drive a mile up the road to the basketball game to the school where he spends the whole day anyway. I guess I shouldn't be so insennsitive... it's something new to him.

Anyway, I should go to bed soon. I have to be up early to move stuff out of my parents' bedroom so they can start on the floor in there in the morning. I'm looking forward to going back to CU for the basketball game tomorrow though...

panic in greer

Wow. There was about to be some serious issues here in Greer. Yeah, that's where I am. I have decided to go ahead and deal with the fact that I live in Greer. I don't live in Greenville. I live in Greenville County, but my mailing address is Greer... now that I have claimed Greer, Hoke needs to give up Clemson and go ahead and claim Seneca... at least it's not Walhalla... OR GREER!

Anyway, the panic I was talking about was in reference to not being able to post from the IE on this computer. I don't know what the dilly is here. Something is always short bus about this computer. Thankfully, I can blog using Netscape, so that is what I'll be using while I am home this break. Netscape v7.1: Preferred by Bloggers in Greer (just a little plug).

Well, I haven't written in a good long while. Exams are over. I made 3 As and 3 Bs. A 3.35. I am okay with this, although I really wanted a 3.5. Now my cumulative GPA is 3.25. I'm not happy about it either. Luckily though, I am taking 13 hours next semester, which should be 13 hours worth of As. I don't know if that will bump me up to a 3.4. That is the goal, 'cause that is cum laude.

As for graduation, I am once again at a crossroads about where I want to go next year. A lot of my friends at Clemson are trying to get me to stay. I know I would have a good time. But I REALLY don't want to be that old guy (aka Tarik... LOL). Right now, my applications to all 3 schools are only partly complete. I have to give out recommendation forms and send in money to USC and Clemson and fill out a whole 2nd part of the UGA application. I think I am going to be lazy and just not finish applying there. Seriously. I would be close to my UGA friends, and it would be a lot of fun... I dunno. I'll apply there if I get really bored and have nothing else to do... so it looks like I'll be applying there.

I thought I had more to say... I haven't written since the 8th... so I guess it's been a week. Tragic. Sorry about that. I guess I just enjoyed my time in Clemson without class and exams a little too much. But, not to worry. I am home in GrOSS now and me and Netscape are going to blog the Christmas Holidays away.

OH... THAT'S what I wanted to discuss a little. The Christmas Holidays at my house. Well, it doesn't feel like Christmas. We haven't truly done a Parks Family Christmas since I was in high school. Year by year, we have dwindled down to this year, in which we don't even have a tree. My mom was all like, well, you know we are having a lot of work done on the house. Yeah. We are painting and getting hardwood floors all throughout the downstairs... but part of me thinks that we wouldn't do a tree even if there wasn't anything going on. There used to be a time when our house was the brightest in the neighborhood. Now it's by far the dullest. Home just feels weird now. I hardly know it. I don't want to be here half the time. It's sad, 'cause I remeember in 8th grade when I LONGED to be in this house while it was being built. Eight years later, it's just my folks' house. But don't get me wrong... my apartment at The Reserve isn't home either. I think I am just ready for my own steady place. Something that I can really call mine...

...I think the want for this has sprung from episodes of How Clean is Your House? and Trading Spaces... lots more of that and other TV shows to watch over break... oh joy.

t'was the night before my last exam...

...and in a cup in my hand, was a concoction of 99 Apples and fruit punch. That is right, fellers. A toast to being done with making up that beast of a cheat sheet for Dr. Dunston's sorry exam. Wanna know how I really feel? This is the away message I made up... inspired by the "Stressed Out College Student During Exam Week" away message that has been floating around...

today we salute you, dr. dunston... a real american hero. you stepped up to be our fourth read teacher after one had a meltdown, the other was a succubus, and the next found out teaching 2 classes would stress out her pregnancy. you live all the way in athens, ga, but brave i-85 every day to come teach us pissed off 4th year elementary ed students. you taught us as much as you could in 3 weeks, and you are even allowing us to use a cheat sheet for the final! how nice, seeing how the word on the street is that your exam is going to be impossible even WITH the cheat sheet. so dr. dunston, crack open a nice cold bud light... and hope that none of your read 460 students pissed in it.

Yes. The teacher that was our "saving grace" better watch out and save her own ass. Well, I guess that isn't necessary, seeing that we can't really evaluate her because SHE HASN'T BEEN OUR TEACHER THE WHOLE TIME. I think they should just let us evaluate the entire School of Education... with one of our famous rubrics that we learned about... you know, it's so sad that they were able to turn a batch of decent, upstanding, moral, teachers-to-be into a bunch of highly intelligent, pissed off, homicidal young adults. I hope they are happy with themselves.

I'm not going to study a drop more tonight. But I do plan on indulging in a few more drops of this beverage... lol. It's a celebration. Tomorrow, I will take the last final of my undergraduate career. Wow. I'm so utterly excited. However, on January 8th, I have to take the Praxis II... not looking forward to that... a WHOLE DAY full of questions about teaching... I could cry right... but I'm too excited about being done with finals here at Clemson.

Oh well... 10:17 pm and nothing to do until 12 noon tomorrow... I think some TV and lounging is definitely in order... as well as some more of this delicous spirit...

skeezas, part ii

Well, well, well... How the sure-of-themselves have fallen. How the skeezas have proven themselves skeeza-ish.

Remember all that bitching last Tuesday when my group made up the rubric for our presentation... I'll refresh your memory... 1 to 4 point... 1 being the worst, 4 being the best... 1 point if your presentation was 2 minutes or less, 4 if your presentation was 5 minutes or more... 5 minutes was too much for some people so the griped and complained...

AND THEN WHEN THEIR TURN CAME TO PRESENT ON TUESDAY, THOSE SAME SKEEZAS TOOK FIFTEEN F-ING MINUTES!

Skeezas.

As for Dr. Kaminskeeza, she's not so bad anymore... mainly because I don't have her anymore. MUAH HA HA HA HA! And she was ever so sachharine sweet to us on Tuesday... bringing us in donuts when she wasn't sure that we were even going to get 85% of the class to do her teacher evaluation. HA! That woman, bless her heart. Did she really think that the majority of the class WASN'T going to grill her ass? She got all ones and twos from me... a couple of threes, but on the whole, she didn't do well with me. I did, however, say that she smiled a lot, which made up for the times when all of us were really mad at her. Too bad she didn't bring us donuts and stuff like every class... I think the super-sweetness of the Krispy Kreme would have overshadowed her skeeza tendencies.

Anyway, two more exams to go. Is it okay that I don't want to do ANYTHING anymore? I got my student teaching assignment today, so all I can think of is doing that. I am going to be at Code in Mrs. Stephens' class where I wanted to be... I am SO excited. NO CLASS whatsoever. And I talked to Christy from camp today who teaches at Code now, and she said that I am really going to enjoy student teaching. I really hope so. It will be great to get in there and do something after sitting on my duff all Christmas break... eating ice and getting yelled at for it... MOTHER, I ATE A BIG CALZONE TONIGHT, SO I'M NOT JUST EATING ICE ANYMORE...

I would never call my mother a skeeza, but I have to admit her behavior on the phone on Sunday night was definitely skeeza-ish. I am sure that she will prove herself to have many more skeeza tendencies when I go home for break... I REALLY hope I get to go up to New Jersey to visit Betsy with the gang for New Years. Oh, mommy... please don't be a skeeza when it comes to letting me go up there...

...two more exams. I don't think I'm studying for the one on Thursday. Dr. Dunston (Read Teacher v4.0) is definitely not a skeeza... she is letting us have a cheat sheet with whatever we want on it. She obviously does not know my talent with small fonts. Watch me take my whole Read notebook into that exam on that sheet of paper...

ice, ice, baby

I believe I have talked about my mom in here before... and how utterly ridiculous she can be sometimes.

This entry is nothing but a reaction to a phone call I got this evening. First of all, lemme put this into perspective for you (hold on, I feel the need to go get a cup of ice water first)...

Okay. I'm back. Anyway. Whenever I get a call from my parents, whether it be from one of their cell phones or from my house, the ring is the "Kick" tone. If you have a Nokia phone, you know what it sounds like. It kinda sounds like the "You're In Trouble" ring. Yeah. So I'm eating dinner, when all of a sudden, I hear this "kick." It's my mom. She asks me about what's going on... why I didn't go to church today... and then...

>>CRUNCH!<<

"What are you eating?" she asks. I tell her it's just ice. Then she freaks out... "Do you eat ice a lot? Are you just doing it because you were drinking something and it is done now, or have you been doing this for a while?" What kind of answer do you give to a question like this?! Well, yeah, mom, you caught me... I've been illegally crunching ice, and I know that I am under age and should not do it until it's legal at 37, but I just have to have it... I'M ADDICTED! Well, I simply told her that I always do it. I like crunching ice. Then she goes, "Well, two things: I heard that it's not good for your teeth, and I also heard if you crush ice a lot it means something." This is coming from a woman who stopped taking us to the dentist because we never had cavities and because the secretary at the dentist's office saw my dad at the mall and told him that we had a bill we needed to pay... and she is concerned about my teeth? I doubt it, highly. She is concerned I have the "something" that crushing ice "means..."

Well, yes, mommy... IT MEANS THAT I LIKE CRUNCHING ICE!

I really hate the losers who sit there in their think tanks and come up with reasons why people do little quirky things. People have their little habits because they satisfiy their need to do them. Just because someone wears a trucker hat, it doesn't mean that they are trying to attract a certain type of individual. Just because a person wears black doesn't mean they are contemplating death (my mother subscribed to both of these theories until I set her straight).

Just another thing to look forward to when I go home for a month...

a nasty dream

I said these words to my roommates this morning, and I believe they thought I was going to talk about a wet dream. If that is what you are in search of, go here. But if not, stay a while and listen to this disturbing and disgusting dream that I had last night.

First of all, I must say that if you look at my profile, you will see that I am a member of a blog entitled My Dreams. I was invited to join by Sammie... Tragically, Sammie has not kept up with it. I myself only wrote one entry in it. So, I'm not going to put this dream in there (however, the dream that I put in there DID come true... Clemson DZ's... Candie Mallory and Jourdan Davis are the only acceptable ones). Anyway...

So, I believe that it started in the parking lot of my high school... which is exactly 1 mile away from my house. I really needed to use the bathroom. But instead of going back into the school, I just decide to shoot it home as fast as I can. Well, I couldn't make it. So, I stopped at the Amoco at the light right up from my house. Normally, this Amoco station, which is infamous for outrageous gas prices, is just a puny little regular Spinx gas station. But in this dream, the Amoco had turned into a big ol' travel stop... like one of those Flying J places on the side of I-85. Anyway, I go in, and there are tons of people around. This is also weird because the gas station is in the middle of suburbia. It's about 5 miles to the highway, and there is nothing around but churches, schools, grocery stores, and hundreds of neighborhoods. Well, among the travelers stopped at the Super-Amoco is none other than Daniel Crout... a freshman tuba player in the band (who just got a bid to KKPsi--CONGRATS!). I don't have time to talk to him though, because not only do I need to use the bathroom terribly, but I am hungry and extremely thirsty. So, I grab a can of Coke and pop it open to quench my thirst before I use the bathroom... When I walk up to the bathroom, I notice that there are many, but they are all pretty crowded. I wait my turn HOPING that the bathroom that opens up when it is my turn is clean and decent. Well, when the little boy comes out ogf the bathroom, it's my turn. I didn't like the thought of leaving my Coke outside of the bathroom in the midst of all the travelers... I was afraid someone might steal it or put something in it. But I didn't want to take it into the bathroom... that just seemed... nasty. Well, I did it anyway...

That bathroom... was the sickest, nastiest, most grotesque thing I have ever dreamed in my life. The floor was dirty, and back behind the toilet against the wall there was nasty brown grimy grungy stinky stuff. The toilet was atrocious, there was bodily fluid everywhere, and it was just wet with nastiness. The bathroom was really just a stall, but it had a rusty brown paper towel dispenser on the right wall when you walked in. The left wall of the bathroom/stall wasn't a wall at all... it was nothing more than a board. Kinda like it was meant to be a stall. But this board was well above waist level, so the person on the other side could see all your junk.

Well, I held my breath as I began to use the bathroom because it stank so bad. Well, you know how sometimes you go into a stinky place and you can hold your nose, but your mouth is still open, but you don't even want to hold your mouth open because the air is so nasty tasting and you don't want to digest any of the bacteria floating around in the air? Well, that's how I felt. So, I held my nose and shut my mouth and tried to pee as fast as I could. Then, I realized that in the "stall" next to mine, there was a man with a little boy. I think the little boy was not old enough to go to the bathroom by himself, so his dad was helping him. Remember how I said there was a board that did not go down very far? Well, in this space between the board and the floor, the little boy managed to miss the toilet and hit me. I gasped at the nastiness that was occurring, which made me smell the stench of the room as well as open my mouth, so I quickly zipped up and retreated from the disgusting stall with my Coke.

But once I got out, I realized there was no use of the Coke anymore... It was contaminated with whatever was in that bathroom. So I threw it away and eyed a bag of pizza flavored Doritos that I saw before I went to the bathroom... Then I started to gag. I didn't want those Doritos anymore. I had lost my appetite and was now getting sick to my stomach.

I walked away from the food aisles and towards the door where Daniel was sitting. I was still gagging profusely when he chuckled and said, "You went into that bathroom, didn't you?" I nodded and continued to gag. Then, nauseated, I walked to my car to go home... Somewhere between getting into the car and driving home, I woke up.

It was SO ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTING. What does it all mean?

"my heart is racing, i want to scream"

-Little Pill, Encaustic

I'm listening to them now. I love them. I was introduced to them by my friend Will Sloop. It turns out I liberated it from Patrick's car, who liberated it from Will. I took it to Beaufort over Thanksgiving break and wore the CD out. It's good.

Anyway, the line from that song really describes what's going on in the Kingdom of Congruence. King Congruence broke a Ham Rule last night. Yeah... like right after I wrote about how good I had been and how I hadn't broken any in a while.

I was at TD's with some of the Block 3 divas and some of my Gamma Sig sorors... Talk about the opposite of a sausage party (I think back freshman year, we called instances like so "biscuit parties")! Anyway, this individual from a class a while ago came up. I do believe that what was said was a product of my buddy, Bud... you know him, right? Yeah, Bud Light. Anyway, good ol' Bud made me break the Ham Rule. I actually had a crush on this person... back a while ago. Well it turns out that this person broke up with their boyfriend (I know this sounds SO absolutely terrible). My eyes lit up... not really because I was like, "Now I have a chance." I actually, didn't even realize that there was a boyfriend in the first place when I first started liking this person. I found out late last year. Anyway, some of the B3 divas were telling me that I should go for it... hrmph. Right. I may have self-proclaimed a crush, but I will not fall. Remember? I think I talked about that in one of my recent entries. So, a big no for that. As for the aforementioned individual... who knows. They are supposed to be downtown tomorrow night...

This entry was meant to be a serious one... so I don't think that I'll talk about everything that happened last night. I want the entry to be about my situation and my breaking of a Ham Rule. But I will say that I saw my friend Lindsay Kelly from high school and she really just warmed my heart. It was so good to see her... It was actually a testimony to me that even though time passes and things and people change, sometimes the change is for the better... I'm so proud of her and the woman she's become.

As for me and this road to becoming a successful man... it sure as Hell is bumpy...

skeezas

My Language Arts Methods prof, Rebecca Kaminski is a skeeza... bless her heart. A skeeza (to me) is someone who acts like they've got it all together, but in reality, they suck; they are rude, inconsiderate, and two faced. Dr. Kaminski can be nice... like, you'd think she was batting for your team... until she pulls some ish like a huge project the week before exams. Yes. That's what that ol' SKEEZA did to us... after she gave us a pizza party and got people to sell us discounted books (the discounted books were of no real importance to me though). It's okay, Dr. K... you shall be in dumb pe0ple for some idiocracy that you said today AS WELL as earlier in the semester.

The whole reason I am writing about this skeeza is not because of the assignment she gave us though... I am wondering if I am becoming a SKEEZA!? Today in class we got to make up our own rubric for this BS project. Now, I am not any more excited about it than anyone else, but I don't see what the point is in making it so ridiculously easy to get an A. My group was in charge of making the rubric up for presentation... I did most of the work. So what Dr. K asked if time should be figured into the rubric, I said, for the lowest grade, 2 minutes and under, and for the highest grade, at least 5 minutes... that is not asking a lot. But if you had been in the class, you would have thought WAY differently. People were spazzin' out throwin' stuff and cursin' (not really, but I'm just trying to add to the atmosphere)! Dr. Kaminski WANTED 10 minute presentations... I think 5 minutes is a good compromise personally.

But then I got to thinking... am I becoming an ol' skeeza in my old age? I mean, Language Arts Methods today was my second to last class of my undergraduate career ever... Am I turning into an old fashioned fogie?

Even if I do, I will NOT EVER stoop to this level...

i feel like writing...

Poor blog. What have you become?! Just a couple hundred pages sitting there in cyber space longing for the days when I had a chance to actually write in you... I'm so sorry. The past few entries, I have said over and over again how I am going to start writing more. Well, that was during the worse time of my life: THE BLOCK. I'm so glad it's over. I really do miss Mrs. Hatton's class though. It was a good learning experience. I am really looking forward to student teaching in a better situation though.

Anyway, since the block is over, I only have 2 classes tomorrow and 1 on Thursday. So Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are going to be play days. I am so excited... the sad fact, however, is that I probably won't do a damn thing any of these days. I said I was going to go to Athens on Wednesday for a "college visit." I dunno if that will really happen though. It would be fun, but I really need to figure out logistics of that if I'm gonna do it.

Hell... I need to figure out logistics for pretty much everything about life after May 13. I'm so ready to graduate... but I don't really know if I'm ready to get up out of Clemson. ::sigh:: Lets see. The main reason that I would want to stay here at Clemson is to be a grad assistant with the band, and because I have friends here already. I don't really know if those are valid enough reasons though. I am really leaning towards USC actually. I know, it's really weird--my university's rival... Something about it seems very appealing though. I like how it is still in state. I like how they have a good band program. I like the fact that it is in a metropolitian area (who am I kidding? It's just Columbia, but they call it "da Met"). So yay for USC. Then there's UGA. It would also be completely new to me... however, not as new as USC would be. I hav visited there lots. I also have a pretty good relationship with the Kappa Mu bros there. It would be fun to go to school with them. They have a KILLER band program there. They also have an incredible school of education. Quite frankly, I am concerned that I may not even get in there. That is the only school that I didn't get into when I applied for undergrad (even though, it was my guidance counselors fault... grrr).

By the way, that is what I am going to do now. I decided that Ed Psych was not going to be worth anything once I got out of school. I actually had to do some researching, talking to people... and I decided that it isn't what I want. An Elementary School Guidance Counselor sounds better to me. I haven't talked to any guidance counselors who don't enjoy it. I'm really looking forward to it.

Anyway, like the title of this entry says... I feel like writing. Not only do I feel like writing in this heavily neglected blog, but I feel like starting new stuff too... and picking up where I left off in another neglected creation of mine. POOR, POOR DELIGHTFUL! My dear sweet Georgia peach. I made her and her friends up this summer when I had nothing better to do. I guess the fact that I left readers at a cliff hanger on Buckhead State Bid Day shows that I found things that were better to do... WRONG. I just found things that were BITCHES to do... school work. Anyway, break starts soon. And I get a lot of writing done on break. I plan on picking Delightful back up... somehow. I also started a novel that is based on my family back in Dale. It's called Family Friendly. It should be good... based on a true story with elements of fiction. My friend Mandy from high school is going to be writing something with me as well. It's called Any Suggestions? I actually got the name from her when she was asking me what I thought we should name it. She said, "Any suggestions?" and bam. There it was. It's going to be a series of letters written back and forth between to high school friends that are apart from each other at college. I'm really excited about it.

So, I have my work cut out for me. As for dumb pe0ple and Short Bus Stories, I think those are pretty dormant for the time being. Those are for random and sporadic bursts of writing... not really things meant to be kept up.

ANYWAY... on to the juice of my ever so fabulous blogs (j/k... I have been brought back down to earth now that I haven't had time to keep it up... although I really did love my rendition of "Overnight Celebrity" a few entries back). I used the r-word earlier in this entry...

I also have a pretty good relationship with the Kappa Mu bros there.

There is a Ham Rule against using that word. Well, you know, I have kept my Ham Rules pretty well, so I'm not worried about breaking it. Now that I look at it, I think that it was a pretty stupid rule anyway. And honestly, following the Ham Rules has gotten me nowhere. I mean, I'm the same as I was when I made them up. I guess I have learned how to deal with my lack of a RELATIONSHIP over the past 4 years. But I haven't gotten any closer to one. Now that I am about to graduate and am getting closer to being out there on my own, I kinda have mixed feelings. I will be the same type of person that my Aunt Irene is... where she has tons of friends who are married and tons of friends and family who keep asking her when she is going to get married. Or, I could be like those cool single people who seem to be the main characters on prime time sitcoms... highly successful and stylish living in my small but sheik Pottery Barn decorated upper class townhome. I dunno. Everywhere I turn boyfriends and girlfriends are turning into fiancees. I guess that is what happens in the early 20s. And in the mid 20s, those fiancees are going to turn into husbands and wives. Dang. I am going to be highly delayed... the boyfriend/girlfriend stage was back at like 17-19. I haven't even reached that stage yet. I guess I'll be married by the time I'm 35... if even then.

I don't think I'm going to get married. I think I'll end up one of those strangely happy highly successful and fashionable single people. It has it's perks. No one to answer to but myself... I'll be able to come and go when I want... I won't have to fight for the remote control... and I will be able to decorate my bathroom in Spongebob Squarepants if I want to. Just kidding. Anyway, I really don't know how I feel about this... it's not really a disappointed feeling, or even a feeling of liberation. This is gonna bug me until I really get to that point. ::sigh:: So May 13, 2005, you can take your time getting here...

ugh.

I feel so disgustingly Bridget Jones right now. Sitting here journaling with my hot chicken noodle soup in a mug, not a bowl (this is so weird). My throat hurts. It's hurt for a while actually. It usually happens when the seasons change. Hopefully I'll be over it soon though.

Anyway, Bridget Jones. I was so Bridget Jones all day. I hung out all by myself, except for when I went home. Yeah, I went back to G-vegas to get some books I forgot over fall break. I saw everyone but my dad, so I guess it was nice.

The big deal about this whole trip to Greenville was going downtown and stopping at Falls Park. There used to be a road bridge that went over the falls, but they have since turned it into a suspended walking bridge. It was one of the prettiest things I had ever seen. My practicum teacher, Mrs. Hatton had mentioned it to me several times, so I figured I had nothing better to do, so I stopped by to look.

I walked out there with my discman... Clay Aiken was in the CD player. The song was Solitaire. How absolutely depressing. I mean, a beautiful Sunday afternoon in this amazing park listening to a song about a lonely man. Hmm... Yes. The story of my life.

I left utterly depressed and defeated. I mean, I am and will probably forever remain defeated...

A heart that cared
That went unshared
Until it died in his silence...

Oh, Clay Aiken, how you do what you do...

I'm ready to find some relief from this hopelessness. No, not necessarily someone to date... just the ability to be okay with being alone... the ability to walk amongst couples without getting all droopy faced...

Oh yeah, and the ability to watch chick flicks and not spazz out at the super sweet part (point in case, the part in "The Girl Next Door" when Matthew goes up and kisses Danielle for the first time and This Year's Love starts playing).

Just let me be apathetic...

fucked up fall break

1. First of all, the title of this entry is not due to the fact that I was wasted over fall break. I was quite sober, thankyouverymuch.

2. I titled it for 2 reasons.
(a) The alliteration (you like that, don't you)
(b) Something really was fucked up in our family computer at home, and it would not let me blog!

I had mucho stuff to write about too... Now, I am having a brain fart, and I can't think of anything I wanted to say. I think the brain fart is due to the fact that all brain power in the universe is being used to count the ballots for president. I have to admit... it's a big deal. As much as I hate politics, this is an exciting day. It was my very first presidential election. I voted in the gubernatorial election in 2000, and I was highly disappointed. I voted straight ticket Democrat... I didn't do that this time because first of all, while it would have been very fast, I had already waited 45 minutes in line anyway; secondly, Fletcher Anderson made a dumb ass comment in "The State" paper talking about how it was pretty much a given that minorities vote Democrat; and thirdly, the last time I did that, every Democrat lost... haha.

So today, I voted for Kerry... for Inez, and also for the mini bottles. My biggest concern is for the mini bottles. They are cool! And they make South Carolina special! We are the weirdos that have little colorful bottles lining the shelves of our bars and the weirdos that get more drunk than people in other states. LET THE MINI BOTTLE LIVE ON!

Anyway, enough of that election mumbo jumbo. Back to things on a smaller scale... oh that's right... I CAN'T REMEMBER ANY OF THEM BECAUSE MY COMPUTER AT HOME WOULDN'T LET ME TYPE ANYTHING!!!

But I do remember one thing... plans after college... this is so serious. What to do? Well, the choice was work, or go to grad school. My main concern was if I did work, I did not want to live at home. I'm ready to be on my own. Well, I found out this weekend that my parents want me to go straight to grad school too. I was kind of shocked 'cause I thought that they were gonna want me home as soon as I got done with college. That would suck so bad though. I mean, that is like a HUGE fear for me... I have been having visions of it all... It reminds me of summer camp. I go to summer camp for an extended amount of time, and then it's over... all the fun, friends, and freedom (once again, sweet alliteration). Moving back to "Grr" would be like returning home after a 4 year stay at summer camp. DAMN! It's been 4 years?! Where did it all go? Lordamercy...

That leads me to my final thought of this election evening (alliteration, part III): I am a senior in college. There is so much petty bullshit that is around me. I'm so sick of it. I'm sick of allowing myself to let people piss me off... you see that... I'M taking responsibility for it. It's no one's fault but mine. People can do things all they want, but I have realized that you have to be responsible for your feelings and attitude. No one can make you feel any sort of way. Someone can push you, spit on you, cuss you out, make fun of you, throw things at you, run over you with a CAT bus, but in the end, your response is up to you... you can't go and say, "(s)he made me do it." There are always 2 options to everything... you can retaliate negatively, or you can just go on about your merry way. Starting now, I'm going on my merry way. People can say what they want... and I'll just go on pretending like they wasted their breath and energy getting pissed off at me, 'cause I'm not going to let stupid stuff bother me... and what makes me really excited about this is, I know I can do this... remember the Hamilton that was so passive and non-confrontational... oh, those days are over... thanks to experiences from this past spring.

The goal is to become independent. Twenty-one is too old to worry about what other people think. In the words of Dr. Dre...

Fuck y'all
All of y'all
If y'all don't like me,
Blow me...

*Please pardon the persistent use of pungent profanity in this portion of my personal thoughts.*
(Alliteration, Part IV, baby... what...)

i have been so tragic...

CORRECTION. SCHOOL has been so tragic... and the reason why I haven't written in forever. I am so sorry. Right after I spat all that game talkin' about how awesome my blog was, I jut leave it out there to wilt away. So right now, I am lacking in the cool points. Hopefully, I can get back up there.

Seriously though, school has been kicking my tail. No one better ever talk about Elementary Ed. being an easy major. I swear I will maim them in a way that it won't grow back... bitches. On top of that, they treat us like scum.

Lemme tell you about READ TEACHER NUMBER 4... First there was Asher. A cool bitch. Seriously. Then there was Alice, whom we like to refer to as, "The Cop." After that, there was Whitaker, our Social Studies methods teacher. Bless her heart. After Ellen, Krista and I went into the head of the School of Ed's office and bitched about The Cop, Whitaker so graciously took on our Read class. Well, that lasted for a week. Then she found out she was pregnant... then she found out she was pregnant with twins.... well, who knows the rest... All we know is that she needs to stay in bed for her pregnancy... so, tomorrow will be our first day with Dr. Dunston. I've heard lots about this woman, but the question is... WILL SHE BE OUR FINAL READ TEACHER? Probably not. She'll probably trip down the stairs in Tillman, break her pinky, and we'll have to get someone else. Frankly, this Read class is now a joke to me. Four professors, nothing learned. I better get an A... either that or a FULL REFUND for those hours.

Besides getting treated like crap over in Tillman, I was treated like crap a week or so ago in Death Valley. Band hit an all time low when I was conducting Captain and the drumline took off with the rest of the band and left me swimming toward them "with all my might." On top of being made look like a fool, Dr. Spede grabbed my ankle. THAT was the worse part. I swear, if the finger of God was not on me, he would have had my Showstopper in his eye. Thankfully, things seem to be a lot better in that area... And strangely enough, I'm ready for band to be over, but I know I'm gonna miss it ridiculously. Let's not talk about that though. I thought about it today and got a little misty-eyed.

Everything else is cool... It's still just little old lonely me, but I'm cool with it. There are some people who are showing me that companionship is not all that... People are just way to serious. I mean, really. This is college. So yeah, lets have fun, but lets also put some of the petty stuff behind us... which is why I need to grill this beef I have with a particular f*cker. It's the grown up thing to do... whether I'm over everything or not...

a little bitching never hurt anything after all

So apparently, me being a complete and udder pain to the Eugene T. Moore School of Education actually did some good. Dr. Whitaker, our Social Studies Methods teacher is going to be teaching our Read class now. Alice is back in her f-ing wonderland... LOL.

I win. Don't f*ck with me... scalawags...

mixed emotions

I don't feel like writing a lot... it's late and I'm not in the state to really write anything truly worthwhile. But, the Seneca High School Marching Band is great. PERIOD. No one can tell me any different. That band went out and represented today... they seriously marched their asses off. I was so incredibly proud to be counted as a part of "The Sound of Seneca." The seriously make me proud, and I wou;d not want to be working with any other band... there is something special out there in far left field of the baseball field there on the Seneca High campus. I am so lucky to be a part of it.

Secondly, the bitch that I spoke about in the last entry... they have pissed me off royally tonight. Theft, sexual assailt, obnoxiousness... the list goes on and on. I am very frustrated. You know... too frustrated to write anymore...

I love the Seneca High Marching Band... I loathe the mentioned individual.

psycho crazed suicidal nympho maniac

So I have just been brought into the light of what a disturbing journal entry sounds like... and I'd like to apologize for my last couple entries... I don't know who the hell I'm apologizing to... I mean, I don't know who reads this anymore since I don't have a link to it in my profile and I don't write as much. All that's gonna change though. Freshman year my journal used to be a place for simple little whiny entries about my lack of a love life, and I'll be damned if 3 years later I haven't progressed to writing anything more exciting. I do want to say that my sappy, whiny writing is thoughtful and worthwhile though... I have a friend who seriously feels like they are the shit and they are just so mean to EVERYONE... they have this attitude like, "I'm a bitch and I know it... and whether you like me or not, I'm way totally cool." Ha. I am nowhere near that arrogant, but I would like to say, "My blog is the shit and I know it... and whether you like it or not, it's better than yours... if you even have the competence to keep one up." LOL.

Seriously though... this is good shit, isn't it? The only thing that could rival it is The Tiger... and lawwwd, that article I wrote last week about those ridiculous bricks... excuse me, "pavers"... that line the ground at the Union has gotten the whole camups in an uproar... See... I have the emotions of the entire school in the palm of my hand!!! MUAH HA HA HA HEE HEE HEE!

::ahem::

Anyway... yesterday I had to get bold with the illustrious Eugene T. Moore School of Education. Yes, they are granting me a degree in May, but yesterday, they gave me a sorry excuse for a teacher, and neither my classmates nor I agreed with it. Our first Read teacher, Asher was one cool bitch. I mean seriously. We used to have SO much fun in that class! And not only did we have fun and the class wasn't like watching paint dry, but we learned a lot. I mean, you just learn a lot more from teachers who not only know what they are talking about, but teachers who have a clue as to how to teach and engage their students. Well, Asher had to leave for her own reasons, and all of us were sad to see her go, but we understood. The School of Education got this ridiculous backwoods Tamassee woman to come and take her place... Excuse me. The fact that she is backwoods and from Tamassee really doesn't mean anything... what the issue is, is she walked into the room (first day of her EVER being there, now) and goes, "My name is Alice, I'm your new Read teacher and from what I hear you didn't do or learn anything with your former teacher. I am assuming that you know nothing about reading and it is because your teacher never taught you anything." First of all... "Blah, blah, blah, the mission of the Eugene T. Moore School of Education is to education Caring, Capable, and Connected educators, blah, blah, blah." YOU DON'T WALK INTO A ROOM OF PRE-SERVICE TEACHERS AND TELL THEM THAT THEIR TEACHER WAS A JOKE AND THEY DON'T KNOW ANYTHING. On top of that, you don't walk in and throw 2 packets chock full of random information ON THE DAY OF A MIDTERM becuase, "Your teacher was supposed to have taught you the things that were in Chapters 1-6 of the book and she didn't. So I am going to do it right now before the exam." That heffer gave us a copy of her PowerPoints... NINE SLIDES ON A PAGE... Poor Ellen... even if she had had designer super contacts in (Ellen is always in something designer), she wouldn't have been able to see the things adequately. She asked Alice if she could make the PowerPoints bigger... and she was like, "I have a certain amount of paper I can use, and I can't make them special just for you." Hmm... Well, Eugene T. Moore School of Education, I can't tell you how many times I have heard someone in your illustrious faculty say, "Teach to the whole child." Oh yes. I have been listening and taking advantage of this education that keeps getting more and more expensive every year.

Anyway, Alice had us write whether or not we thought we learned anything, what we did learn, and whether the midterm was an adequate assessment of what we learned on the back of our midterm. I lit into the woman... telling her that we learned tons in the weeks before she showed up and how unprofessional it was for her to come in and bash our former teacher and tell us, her students and future teachers that we didn't know anything and she was the one to enlighten us. After I so eloquently gave her a figurative smack upside the head, Ellen, Krista and I marched right up to the office of the head of the School of Education and told him everything and how we didn't appreciate her coming in and doing the things she did. He seemed really surprised and taken aback at the whole situation. He told us that she was out of line and that he would try to right the wrong, but apparently he and the rest of the Read department had been told that Asher had never taught us anything and she never showed up for class. Well, we defended Asher and our own intelligence in the only way we knew how... concrete evidence. I took out my PowerPoints that Asher had made for us (which he compared to Alice's microscopic PowerPoints) and he went and made copies of them. He said that that evidence would help a lot and give them a clearer understanding of what Asher DID do.

So... I said all that to say, DON'T F*CK WITH PEOPLE BECAUSE THEY ARE YOUNGER THAN YOU OR IN A LOWER POSITION THAN YOU. They can screw you over and make things very difficult for you. As for Alice... I intend on rocking her world in that class... making As on everything and being just as respectful to her as she was to us. I am a senior... that Read class will be the VERY last undergraduate class I EVER take because next semester will be nothing but student teaching. All of our teachers in the block have told us that we are pretty much teachers... there isn't a lot more that we need to learn... the only thing that stands between us and the title are signed pieces of paper. She can't screw us over like that and disrespect us like we don't know what the hell is going on.

But that basically goes for everyone... I'm sick of people talking down to other people and thinking they are so much better than everyone else. Sure in your mind you can build yourself up and think that you are God's gift to mankind... that's great. It's good to have a little self-esteem. But ESPECIALLY if you are in a position of leadership, use a little humility... and geez, if you are a teacher... POINT BLANK: DON'T BE SUCH AN F-ING DOUCHE.

tehee...

Disclaimer: The title of this entry is in NO reference to the aforementioned teacher. It is about the journal entry I mentioned towards the beginning of this entry.

wait a minute...

...that was so depressing. Too depressing. Why shouldn't I believe. What does it hurt? Besides the fact that it pulls way too hard on the heartstrings, it doesn't kill me...

But I hate holding out and once again like in This Year's Love... I am admitting the fact that I am waiting. Waiting sucks ass. Plain and simple. I think it's made me a bitter person.

It's why I don't believe... no. I don't. I don't care if that is too depressing. That's me and that's real. I don't believe.

drew's birthday

It's late... really late. It's 2 am. I have 2 exams in the morning. I have NOT written in here in a while. So this late night entry is justified.

My friend Drew who I don't see very often at all turned 21 at midnight. He IMed me at about 9:30 to see if I would go downtown with him. I said sure even though I was home sick today and have my exams in the morning. I felt bad... it seemed as if he wasn't going to have anyone to go downtown with. So I went.

Drew and I always have really good, deep conversations. It's ironic seeing how we don't talk much... we are both really busy and when we do talk it's usually online. But when we do get a chance to see each other in person, we always talk about deep philosophical stuff.

Tonight, he asked how I was doing and stuff, and I said I was okay, but no one really understands me. He said he felt the same way, but he thought he could figure me out. Then he asked if I really would want to be understood, because knowing everything about someone is the difference between being a human being and being God. It made me think, but in the end, I answered that I do want someone to know all about me.

Isn't t hat what companionship is? Knowing everything about someone? I think my parents know everything about each other... seriously. Its a kind of relationship that is even closer than that of a parent and child... children are always going to hide things from their parents, but a true loving and honest marriage has no secrets. They know everything about each other.

So yes. I want someone to know all about me. But, once again, I know that person probably doesn't exist.

Since they don't exist, I stopped living by the words of This Year's Love. Yes, I have been waiting on my own too long... and I'm still waiting, obviously. What's the point in reminding myself that I am just waiting. Just today, I have been drawn to song lyrics that talk about believing (all American Idol songs, ironically). I want to believe... and I like these songs. So I'll hold on to these for a while. Whether I really believe or not, I can't tell. Truthfully, I don't believe... but that just sounds so horrible. So... I dunno.

This one song that I am listening to now, Dreams, talks about how we are just made of dreams. I mean, I do dream about it... is that believing enough? I honestly cannot sit here and say that without a shadow of a doubt I believe someone is out there for me. But I can say that I have dreamt and do dream of someone... so is that believing? It's the only hope I have I guess.

It would be so much more relaxing if I could just give up completely and not even think about it... not even dream about it. Then I wouldn't have to even wonder if I did believe.

See... I'm too confusing for someone to understand. No. I don't believe.

10:35 = BEDTIME!!!

It's 10:35 and I am preparing to go to bed. w00t! I haven't written in a while... but I thought I'd catch you and Smouse up on a few things.

1. I wore letters today for the first time since this summer. KKcrap has kinda been at a minimum as of late. Hopefully it will stay that way.

2. Alpha Phi Omega is well underway... so is the controversy...

3. I'm not really crushing anymore... on that individual that sang in my dream... although I think Alanis Morissette said it best when she named her album Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie.

4. This Year's Love is currently the song playing on the soundtrack of my life.

5. I teach my first lesson on Wednesday and I am actually pretty nervous.

6. I'm doing a pretty good job hiding all of my internal ish... as always, no one really understands me...

lets talk about something...

...because it's been a while since I have talked about ANYTHING. Last time I wrote in here, Smouse was the topic of discussion. This time, it's not going to be... We are going to tackle one of the many Ham Rules. Rule Number 9: No Self-Proclaimed Crushes. I tend to break this rule a lot. One may consider me spineless, or passive as some have said, but for some reason, I tend to break this rule a lot... this one which goes alont with Rule Number 4, The Alicia Keys Rule: Don't Fall. Yeah. I suck at these two. But I was thinking this weekend (for some VERY ODD reason, being on away band trips makes me think about things like this), what's so wrong with having a crush. I mean, I'm not saying that I have one or not. What I am saying is, I feel like I have behaved pretty well... Since being 21 and back at school, I haven't let emotional ish really drag me down a lot... I mean, the only thing that is pretty sad is my AIM profile... but it basically just gives a visual representation of a song lyric that I really relate to. Actually, I don't relate to This Year's Love at all. There is once again no love this year. Oh well. I have decided that is probably the way it is going to be.

I remember in 12th grade... like it was yesterday. We were in Teacher Cadets and Mr. T asked how many of us thought we would probably get married. I was the only one that didn't raise my hand. I have this sense... it's weird. Not just about marriage, but everything. If I can't see something in my mind happening, then I can pretty much tell it's not going to happen. Most of the time I usually apply it to taking trips and stuff. If I can't forsee it happening, I don't really look forward to it. Honestly, I never see anyone returning love for me in the way that I give them love. Like, I can see Kate and Deni walking down the aisle... I can even see my 30-something year old Aunt Irene getting married. But I can't see me doing it. Not just that, but I can't see myself even dating anyone. As sad as it sounds... I think it's the truth.

How do I feel about this? Well... it sucks. It sucks really bad. But, nuns and monks never marry. Maybe I am to be in the number with them. But that leads me to another question... Is there really anything wrong with self proclaimed crushes and falling? I mean, I know nothing is ever going to happen. So if I give into the attraction, nothing is harmed right. I have already told myself that I'm going to end up being a loner (a loner in a very posh home wearing really nice clothing, mind you). There really isn't anything wrong with crushing or falling.

But frankly, it's just not very attractive... to see someone swooning over someone else. It becomes annoying and frustrating... not just for onlookers, but for the person crushing. I'm not ever doing that again. I swear from this moment (9:11 pm on Sunday September, 19, 2004). No crushing. As for falling... you can't really help that. It's a bitch, it is... but there are some things about people that just make a spot in your heart tickle when you think about them... Honestly, I had a dream last night about someone... they sang a song. Not to me, but they sang... I feel that singing is one of the most beautiful forms of expression. When I heard this individual sing, it was beautiful... I cry when some people sing... I just do. I can't take it. Some people's singing evokes emotion within me. I woke up and wanted to cry. It was only a dream... the person prolly can't sing at all... but they sang in my dream.

Anyway... call it falling... I'm not going to crush anymore. Or maybe that's backwards... don't fall, but it's okay to crush... because in all seriousness, crushing is pretty innocent. People crush on movie stars. They can't really fall for movie stars. Falling would entail knowing someone and wanting to be with them. Crushing is pretty much just a feeling felt at a distance... you see someone walking on campus and they are cute, so you crush. Yeah. So no FALLING. Crushing... that's what you can't help. As for my particular situation with this singer... is that falling or crushing? Singing, to me, is a big deal. Hellifiknow. Nothing is going to happen. Just another notch on the old oak log. Another crush that won't turn into anything but a grain of sand in my hourglass of life.

i have a clue

...and within 28 minutes, I have a guess as to your identity, Smouse. First of all, I pose this question... is it possible that you were up at 6:53 and are up now at 7:21 like me... and getting ready to go to your practicum school??? ;-)

please notice the post time...

At the bottom of this entry, it says the time that the entry was posted. Smouse, honey... I want you to take a good look at the time at the bottom of it. Yes. 6:53 am. While you were probably enjoying sweet slumber, I am up writing about you. And you know what? I SHOULD be getting ready for school. Technically, I am supposed to be at Central Elementary at 7:30... but no... you are more important to me, Smouse. Actually... your identity or lack thereof is driving me nuts.

I was talking to Erin on Saturday before the game... walking up to where we start the parade (also take not of this, Smouse... shouldn't the performance be on our minds, not the identity of a fabulous person named Smouse?), and Erin asks if I have any clue as to who you are. And I say no. Then she proceeds to tell me about how in high school, she used to get candy grams and stuff from some mysterious person named "C.M." (or something like that). She checked the yearbook for all the guys with those initials, but she came up with nothing. To this day, Erin has no clue who this character was.

Smouse, I don't want to go on living like this! THROW ME A FREAKING BONE, HERE! But I really don't want you to just come out and say it... it would be much cooler if you gave me hints. But I'll go ahead and tell you this. You are a girl, you aren't in band ('cause you posted a comment during band rehearsal), I am probably not the only person you know in band, and (of course) I think you go to Clemson. I have no idea where Smouse came from... whether it is a nickname, or some derivative of your real name, or whether you like mice (which would make me think that you are an AKA... I love them).

Anyway, Smouse, I need to go get ready so I can sit through another day of class at Central. Please take this blog to heart. With every comment you write, you lead me on like a Tri-Dilta leads on a frat pledge (as Sarah would say).

losers

I am surrounded by losers... in every shape form and fashion. I am sorry... and I don't mean to be mean. But when people are mean or just plain old intolerable, they get the title of LOSER. I am just a little upset with several people and groups of people right now. Due to the popularity of this blog and how much of an overnight celebrity I am (I know you liked my rendition earlier today), I am not going to name names and point fingers. Lets just say... George W. Bush wannabe, prehistoric animal, a bunch of retard moo cows, daytime children's programming, Designing Women, the whole R&B community... they all piss me off.

LOSERS

pen and paper

I hope that this writing thing takes me somewhere... I just realized that I am pretty much obsessed... last night in an interview with the entire chapter of Alpha PHI Omega (not Chi... those chicks kinda had it out for me after The Tiger last week), someone asked me what 3 things I would take with me if I were stuck on a desert island. Without hesitation, I said a pen and paper... to document the situation. Wow. I am a writing FIEND.

As for The Tiger, I have gotten a vast assortment of reactions from it... most people LOVED it. Some other people didn't enjoy it so much... you know, those sorors of the lyre... After talking to Cassie and Kate about it, I decided to apologize to the president, because even though I didn't mention her name or Alpha Chi Omega, the entire Greek community knows who it is about. The funny thing is... DAMN... that's a buttload of people. So, nest week in The Tiger, I'm going to talk about how small Clemson really is... and how easy it is to get 150 girls mad at you.

Which leads me to my next observation... Dang a lot of people know me. Not EVEN trying to boast. I mean seriously. There are just an immense amount of people who claim to know me. I was talking to Rachie the other day and she said that being in the band means that you don't have a personal life... Well, along with being in the band, being a drum major, and now being a columnist in The Tiger, everyone seems to know Hamilton. I am beginning to feel the way I felt last year... as Alanis Morrissette says in "Not the Doctor:" "I don't want to be your idol, you see this pedastal is high and I'm afraid of heights." AND NOW BEFORE YOU GO THINKIN' I'M HOT ISH, Jason Grygier told me that that was how I was feeling... I don't think I'm an idol... you little groundling, you...

Anyway, another song comes to mind when I think of living in the limelight... "Overnight Celebrity."

Why don't we...
Write somethin' these ho's will like?
Write shit that's so damn tight
Ham P, you told 'em right?
I can make you a celebrity overnight
Give you ice with the blogs I write
Everybody thinks they know me, right?
Every Saturday I wear white
Holy shit! I'm a celebrity overnight

Seriously... I'm not trying to have a big head. But I just can't get over how many people claimed to know me after my article last week. Ironically though (and this will be addressed in next week's article), at Clemson, everyone is pretty much a celebrity... it just takes you doing something that draws attention to you for you to notice...

sounding off

I am pissed. Why? Well, it is not because of our dear friend Adria, nor is it because I don't know the identity of the wonderful person that is Smouse. I am pissed because I am not black enough? No, don't get me wrong, I am not trying to be as dark as James Hanna... according to some people, he is not black enough either (how in the hell, I have no idea).

The reason James and I are not black enough apparently has nothing to do with the color of our skin. I don't know when black started being defined as a lifestyle, not just a race. But apparently, I deny my blackness. I don't live like a black individual ought. But then again, I guess the whole reason that I don't is because I am ignorant... I don't know HOW a black individual ought.

Now, if one of these utterly tragic people who are telling me that I deny my blackness thinks that because I don't hang out with only black people, talk a certain way, walk a certain way, eat certain foods, or live a certain way, then they are a disgrace to the ever so fabulous color that is their skin. Being black is not about what you do, wear, say, eat, or live. Being black is simply that... being black. Why can't people see that walking around in a diverse community wearing a skin color that is not the majority is a beautiful thing? That is special enough. Why is it that some black people feel that they must make a name for themselves, or (THANK YOU EVER SO MUCH) for EVERYONE. They have to all congregate together because "nobody knows the trouble (we)'ve seen / nobody knows (our) sorrow." My GOD! Grow up and get your mind out of your little afro-centric mind. This is not a black and white world. This is a world of MANY colors and types of people... to shut oneself off to only the people that are like them is ridiculous.

Now, even saying all of this, I guess that I am not the most valid source of opinion. I was raised in a predominantly white community and have always had more white friends than black friends... but you know one thing? Never in my existence, have I ever wanted to be white. What kind of person would I be if I was white? I would not be the person that I am today. I have learned so much about life from being black, and I am proud to say that I am one. I am NOT proud, however, to associate with black individuals that are so shallow to think that ALL black people are supposed to hang out with one another and be the ever so strong backbone for each other because it's such a cruel world and the white man is all about trampling all over us and seeing us fail! Forgive me please, but BULL SHIT!

If ANYONE is prejudice... it is black people. I am quite serious when I say this. In the past, white individuals were people who looked down on blacks and did not like to see us prosper. But thanks to individuals like Martin Luther King, Jr. who not only wanted to see black people succeed, but see blacks and whites live together harmoniously, many white people have learned from the ways of their forfathers and accept blacks and other minorities as fellow human beings. The world is too diverse for them to truly think that they as white people are a superior race. There are so many different races and cultures with wonderful things about them for whites to think that. Of course there are some who are still grand wizards and grand dragons and stuff, but the decent white people FAR outweigh the indecent ones. As for the black community, I am almost certain that there are more of them that are prejudiced against white people than whites that are prejudiced against them. How do I know this? Why is it common to see a couple black people scattered amongst a group of white people, but when there are a few white people in the midst of many black people, people start scratching their heads? Why are there colleges and universities, and then there are historically black colleges and universities? Why do I get looked down on by individuals at South Carolina State, because there are more black people at their entire school than there are at my school? Why is it okay to have BET, when if there was a WET, Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton would raise hell and call a boycott for cable television?

I'm not saying that there needs to be a WET or there need to be schools solely for white individuals. All I'm saying is, the time has passed for segregation. Look at this... George W. Bush, Gen. Colin Powell, and Condoleeza Rice; Simon Cowell, Paula Abdul, and Randy Jackson (they even got a latina up in there!); Jay Leno and Kevin Eubanks. I mean, come on. OPEN YOUR EYES, PEOPLE. THE WORLD IS NOT AS TERRIBLE AS YOU THINK IT IS. IT IS OKAY TO HAVE FRIENDS THAT AREN'T EXACTLY LIKE YOU!

And the next time you think I am denying my blackness, ask yourself, if you are just denying yourself as a human being.