BK is in Texas

I wrote this back in August 2010. 2 months after I first moved to Dallas. Now, as I come up on my 1 year anniversary of moving to Dallas (June 2^nd), I’ve tucked away the GPS (and consequently stopped wasting buckets of gasoline going the longest way possible), have settled in after a few moves, and have gotten accustomed to my home (for now…). I just wanted to share this with my readers, many of whom have relocated to a place that as we all learn upon leaving the city, so drastically different from NY. Enjoy!

It is 2:53am Central Standard Time (3:53am in BK) and I couldn’t sleep so I decided to chronicle the tales of this young dame from ye county of Kings who packed up, with her reliable chariot Candy and moved to Dallas, TX. I don’t know why I thought insomnia would elude me in the south, especially whilst crashing at a friend’s house but here ye chronicles begin…

I guess considering I’ve come to terms with my decision to stay in Dallas after the throws of extreme brokenness almost made me haul ass, I’ll start by laying the smacketh down on the rundown that Texan and New Yorkers keep asking me. ..”Why Texas?” I grew up in BK, Flatbush (Bullet. Bullet. Bull horn and insert all other bashment sound effects here) to be exact and while I will ALWAYS refer to my town as the best place on Earth I had to boogie. I was about to finish grad school in May and after making unemployment work for me since 2009 with a nicely Haitian-decorated apartment with all the trappings - I mean I felt like Empire State of Mind a little bit “if you could make it here you could make it anywhere”…then reality set in as graduation loomed off in the distance 5 months away…(Type A MOST certainly fits me like a glove)

Graduation with a Master’s in tow, in a job sector that doesn’t pay, unemployment drying out, and worst of all things having to store ALL my shit I mean bags, clothes, shoes, dvds, furniture, house décor ALLLLLA that (don’t forget to check the sanity, privacy, and freedom at the storage facility too) and MOVE BACK HOME. “EGADS WOMAN!” I thought to myself way back in December 2009/January 2010 as the thought ruminated over and over in my head. Hell. 2. Tha. Na….Now I’m not saying everyone is in that situation, but having been out of the house since I graduated in 2007 it was just something I knew I had to do…Plus let’s not play around with serious facts.

New York City has about 90% of its residents in a vice grip of hypnotism. The convenience. The party life EVERY. NIGHT. OF. THE. WEEK. The pace. The diversity in NYC NO ONE, I repeat NO ONE is a minority. Did I mention the convenience? --Insert strong arm here.

And while I love NYC for those reasons, the MTA is legitimately trippin –less trains & buses + more mone = no bueno; When you have a car (that never really left Flatbush considering how long I had it) EVERYTHING is convenient.

Imagine if you will life without the following

::obnoxious hood-booger blasting some 1990s unheardofgangstarap music/or some old ass song that was hot years ago from a small telephone’s speakerphone::

::the loudest conversation about Taquita and her baby daddy and ‘em and how someone owed someone money, the kids need mad shit but “that nigga swear I won’t roll up on his shit..” conversation you could very well do without::

::coughing/sneezing/stinking ALLS up in your area and invasion of your personal space::

::people pushing past you because they have to be somewhere that doesn’t matter, and ironically still get the “DING. DING” as the train doors close in there face::

Actually pause right there---that scenario is actually hilarious as hell (until you’re the one on the side of the door watching your perfectly time arrival roll away) and now we’re in play mode again …

::sadiddy bitch at the front of a club who you know has nowhere near an IQ as high as yours because her job is to hold the clipboard and act important controlling your fate and enjoyment for the evening::

From what I could tell and 1 ½ years of looking – I wasn’t going to find a job in NYC and if I did I wouldn’t have been happy doing it. Especially at the rate of pay they’re offering us young folk. So after consistently reading those “Top 10 Cities for Young People,” “Top 10 Cities That Are Growing” etc. Dallas kept coming up. Reading is fundamental kids!

But I also know that coming from NYC I had to be honest with where I could go and make a new life for myself without trying to A) off myself B) drive back to BK feeling defeated (although I was almost there a couple of times…another story, another day maybe) and C) I could find me some Black mens….yeah I said it. I moved for the prospects of the mens…As a single young whippersnapper I had to come where the potential could be met without DTM (doing too much – blog pending).

So I applied to do this teaching alternative certification program and was accepted. 1 TFA denial, 1 Teach New Orleans denial, some cash drop, a 30 hour drive, fast forward almost 2-months and extreme brokeness and here I am. More importantly here’s what I’ve learned about the Big D (as they call it).

Everything is s p r e a d l i k e m u s t a r d. I mean average driving time to any one place is about 20-25 minutes but it could really be more depending on where in Dallas you are, where you’re coming from and all that. There is also about 3-4+ ways to get to one location but since I’m still wasting gas listening to that old GPS talking about “Make a U turn if possible” it’s still a learning curve.

Texas is conservative. Example: sitting in IHOP with my Sorors and using that Sailor’s Language which ebbs and flows… I dropped some hot f-bombs, and the like the po-po rolled up on me and said “Mam, ::raises eyebrows at the thought that such a little PYT such as myself was bringing the rain like desert storm apparently:: I’m gonna need you to stop cussin’ cuz if somebody tells me something I can arrest youu…” I stopped listening after the po-po told me to “stop cussin’”

Example 2: There are dry counties here. I mean the liquor store closes at 9. Dry county. I seen a black dude fully suited flying out of his car, with his jacket flying like Batman’s cape – to buy some wine at 8:55. Dry county. Trucks zooming in the parking lot to get liqs & wasted - dry county. Walmart stops selling wine at 12am dry county….yeah…what’s a lush to do but stock up with $3 wines from Walmart?

Speaking of, Walmart is King! ::Young Jeezy Voice:: “And I love it!” Wine, make-up, food, undies, toothpaste, pads…I mean it’s HEAVEN. I’m convinced that any European that has the privilege of going to a 24-hour Super Walmart will go in with wide-eyed amazement at the plethora of assortment available. Anyhow I digress…

Texas is the land of the truck. So my chariot is very happy here! I mean people have monster trucks from those commercials! On these streets though, they drive WORSE than NYC and are CRAZY tailgaters too

But I’ve come to like it here for many reasons including:

1. Dallas and the surrounding areas are probably just about the only places I’ve been to where you can be shopping at the mall and in 30 minutes passing by some cows and horsing grazing on some bright green grass…Like whaaatt?

2. Although I’m too broke to capitalize on it now, man oh man the shopping is so that any recovering shopaholic (like myself) will just have to avoid even going to these places. There are 2.2 stores for every ONE person (so I’ve heard and living here I believe it) so you can imagine.

3. Happy hour is different in that it’s not the club scene (a-la NYC happy hours on a Wednesday night) but damn so is that BILL! You can get White Boy Gucci Wasted out here for $15. $1 Margaritas, $2 wells, free food (tacos & quesadillas). You just can’t go wrong.

4. Texas is one of the few states where one only pays FEDERAL tax…i.e. taking home MY MONEY ::Kanye runs with the reel voice on Punk’d:: THIS MINE :-D and did I mention how cheap it is to just live here?

5. The people are just friendlier and have a better disposition. You’ll be (kind of) hard pressed to find a screw face at any store or establishment.

6. Last but certainly not least, there are TONS of things to do…I think the misconception is that I moved to some little place. It’s pretty poppin I mean I went to happy hour with a smorgasbord buffet better than endless shrimp @ Red Lobster club with $2 drinks…I’m definitely not mad!

All in all, I’m sticking it out here and happy doing it since stress is hard to come by when your apartment complex has a sparkling pool and you ride to your own tunes. As life goes, things happen but I got Ryders who hold me down and this experience reminds me of that Death March way back in Spring 2006. Marching into Wynn Commons with my face painted up, arms burning but giving it my all – with a gang of my sisters behind me and my loved ones in front cheering me on. Life was beautiful once that hood came off and it’s about to come off again, reaallll soon.

End Proclamation:

BK all day…but now BK is in Texas

Addendum list of what else I’ve learned about TX:

1. Everyone always has to “plan” to chill…..only a select few people I know here can just hang on the fly…definitely one thing I miss

2. Nobody carpools….I mean everyone lives in different places so it does get hairy when you do, but sometimes I actually don’t want to drive

3. People here don’t speak NYC car language i.e. they don’t honk their horns, blast their music real loud, or drive with the windows down

*I refuse to abandon my driver’s roots and break ALL these rules…these Texans have been introduced to Konpa, Dancehall, and ANYTHING I feel like bumping when I drive B-)

4. People here like to floss…Beamer, Benz or Bentley but live in apartment complexes, I mean it’s an oil state but chances are the ones with money are the ones you don’t see

5. There are cowboys here and they are gentlemen…but my quest for the mens only yielded losers, lames, and guys who would stare but not speak

Eternally Single Part Deux

So I do this often and those that are close to me hate when I start my story in the middle....in my mind the connections always make sense but not vocalizing any of it until the part I feel is most important is where I fail in the conversational communications department.

I realized that I created an entire post on being single for 6 years now without giving any real preceding background as to how I ended up this way. So Family Feud Time (love that show & can murder the best of them on Wii)

If you've been single for a long time, what is the #1 most annoying question from a man?

……

C’mon guess

….Alright you can probably see it right underneath this line so I’ll tell you:

"Why are you single?"

I hate the idea that ppl think asking that shit is okay. It's almost like the answer should be some slick shit, like "I'm a crazy bitch who holds all men by the balls so they don't wanna be with me" because that would be the reason I would believe a bitch should be single, but alas, that is not I.

I got asked the question so much so that one day I decided on one of my many solo days of introspection to think about what a valid answer could be....so I reached in the recesses of my mind to think back to the last nigga I was “in like” with. And my being in like has multiple stages and variations. Having been alone for a minute it can range from

A school girl crush: the phone rings, you get a message tone and ::smile:: it's him...Yeah that molasses.sticky.sweet….shit.

A rational//irrational attachment to the qualities and similarities you make yourself believe to make this person likeable.

From my own personal Like Files this has run the gamut from –

“I like that he takes charge and is assertive like a man should be” to

“He’s from the East Coast and lives down here too”

to one of the most basic yet overused reasons

*“We had great conversation”

*(which I’ve learned as much as I talk - could happen with a brick wall)

So I thought back to the last crush I actually had and what I thought I had to do to get it to advance from the stages it was in.

So I did what every school girl does when she has a crush. I told my girlfriends I was really digging this dude and asked for help on how to keep him around. See in my history of male-relations I've become Shonuff at attracting the Houdini niggas. Everyone has encountered Houdini(s).

Houdini: a nigga (and for my Lesies a female DOES qualify) that has been communicating with you on a consistent basis using MORE THAN ONE form of communication over a span of time ranging from 3 weeks-2 months (under 3 weeks is charged to the game). You’re all in it, and while expecting hasn’t been something you’ve done the sheer aspect of routine from this bitchass has taken root in your mind. Everything is flowing and then……

Wait for it…..

**POOF**

Suddenly and without major, just cause this nigga disappears.

Off. The. Radar.

Somehow along the way I just ran the ring with Houdinis ::Who’s the mastuh??:: I had at one point a new Houdini when one fell off the map ::Shonuff!!:: It was a decent run and at the ironic thing about it was that it was winter. Now I don't know about TX but winter in NYC is the hardest time to even shack up with a quickie because men are using up all their CB time until the bitches with poom-poom shorts and fat booties come back out in the summer...

Anyhow because I knew my statistics with dudes, I asked my friends for advice so that I wasn't using my own counsel to proceed to fuck it up, as any honest woman can admit.

Now I don't know when the number was settled but 3 months was what we all agreed upon to be how long you have to hold out to get a crush to commit. Only problem was this dude lived in Maryland and I was in BK. I also already had my exit plan to TX by then so it seemed perfect that the universe made it this way right? I mean I was never one to be too sad because in my mind I just knew I was gonna get some regardless but I still tried to claim I wasn't...even when he said he was coming for one day....

Now I think I have to say that I am principled. Even when it comes to sex...that's why being single this long also becomes mind-boggling after a while. This nigga got on a bus and arrived in NYC at about 10pm only to turn around and go back at like 2 pm the next day. Now if I was a dude I would have made sure I got some if I was buying a ticket and doing all that sitting on a bus. So I felt it only right to let him have some. Shiiitttt I wasn't fronting so I gave it up.

Fast forward to my trip to DC, where I managed to get a quickie in a kitchen from said dude and then...Houdini happened. At this point in the game I've recognized the warning signs of Houdinism-in-the-making because they just stop responding...**POOF**

He disappeared...Like most of them do, and the key is without just cause.

Then I came to TX a short while thereafter. At this point I was just intrigued by this number of 3 months that we had decided would work to changing a nigga's mind and get him to up the ante. So I met OKC (he was from Oklahoma City so it seems a fitting name) on July 29th. I only remember because it was this triflin bitch's birthday [another one of my many TX adventures I can relay in some other post] and we went out.

It went how new nigga business always goes...we spoke on the phone damn near every day, and texted in between. I went to NYC and we still were in communication. The funny thing about Houdini's is that distance aint shit...they make it seem like they're in the lane when they probably have already planned the disappearing act the likes of..well…Houdini.

So it was September and we met up...now I knew the number was 3 but I'm not like most and so I pushed it down to 2. Having had all that communication (which honestly started to fall off a little bit anyhow) I – being the principled young lady that I am......did it.

Truth be told, I loathe wasting time probably as equally as I hate starting over. Seriously. 2 months can amount to a whole lot of shit talking about what "can" happen in the bedroom and shiiiitttt my minutes aren't for free so let's see if you could back it up..........

It.

Was………..

Bad.....that waiting (nd the act itself) just left much to be desired. And because he was my only spade in a hand full of clubs, hearts, and diamonds (and really I don't usually rate guys on their first try since it's unknown territory, bodies need acquainting, etc) I did the baseball adage of 3 strikes. The worst part though was that he tried to pull the Houdini on me full throttle. He was out. He was way fuckin out. When he tried to start up communication sporadically I made sure I told his ass his performance was not to my standards. Since I wasn’t guaranteed another opportunity I had to be forthright (again I’m principled).

I got a rare glimpse of this Houdini preparing for his act so... needless to say, I dismissed him (although I'm sure he'll tell his friends otherwise) in Houdini-had-to-be-gone fashion. I don't take kindly to bad bedroom performances (BBPs). My friend actually saw the texts, it was cold, but again I’m not into wasting time.

Then in my update of my favorite blog The Fooler Iniative, she confirmed what me and my girls have long known:

"What I’m not about, is some arbitrary timeline, we adhere ourselves to, with the ultimate goal of achieving some fictitious relationship ideal."

In the movie Inception they say that an idea is the most powerful thing. There is NO way of making anything come out of an idea that isn't there. Truer words were never spoken. Bitches get all types of ideas from niggas that they just run with and vice versa...but one thing I've found is that

NO man is going to WANT to be YOURS if HE DOESN'T WANT TO ::Shonuff!!::

Holding out wont plant the idea in his head...he'll just fuck the next bitch or his slide that he had and YOU too are not getting ANY (unless you have the glorious line up which has eluded me for quite some years).

Sex has destroyed the best ideas...just look what happened to Charlotte when she got engaged to her doctor man and found out the hard way that it wasn't working....I do not like surprises. And aint enough liking in the world that's gonna make me forgive BBP. Besides, truth is it's hard enough finding someone who can vibe with you on multiple levels. Some ppl are just a great adventure in bed....can't hold a conversation worth a damn, don't do shit with their time but you're convinced they come up with ways to make the next-time-you-have-a-meeting daydream @ work fantasy material...

It is what it is. I've come to accept that in my singledom.

To quote Fooler again: "Our thinking that there is a determined model of how things are supposed to be is not a product of empirical fact as much as it is a general rationalization of something we’ve grown accustomed to seeing."

You know someone who got wifed....not really wifey material but she did it. HOW?!! Everyone wants to know and she says among other things that she didn't put out right away. So now we all think holding out does the trick...see how that works? Never mind the fact that NO ONE asked shorty what her standards are for sex...she might be a dead fish and you listenin to her about having a man who 1. could be gay 2. can't fuck 3. is dumb as rocks or 4. all of the above smh.....getting caught out there...

So with Houdini's (hopefully out the loop) and non-self deprivation of the D in effect, the next time I get asked the most irritating question by some guy who undoubtedly wants to smash "Why are you single?" I will say what I've started saying:

"...Because I haven't met a guy with his lights on, that would consider me as his girlfriend" Knowing that if all else fails, I'm principled and that's a fall back that at least gets me through a month or so ;-)

My Obsession

“You’re a mom & pop/I’m a corporation/I’m the press conference/You a conversation/Oh ohhh oooo/Why you so obsessed with me”

~Mariah Carey, Obsessed

My obsession like the formation of any other obsession I suppose, started without my being aware of it. One minute I was a 20-something posting statuses on Facebook and dropping her name here and there…

my first status about Snooki read: “I just want to be Snooki.....if it was only that easy my life would be made. Like. Right. Now. *Le sigh this pedestrianism is so...............pedestrian”

My second status 2 months later: “I need to get a reality show..because Evelyn swears that "non-factor" is gonna pop off in urban lingo, Snooki knows as much (?) as my 13 year old cousin, and Emily let Fab tell her partying is "not motherly". Smh someone please sign me up...”

and then it became a subject that followed me around, even when I wasn’t seeking it out (#theworst)

It was New Year’s Eve and my only access to the world wide web was my phone. I read in my current events update that Snooki’s grand descent from a helicopter in Times Square would be cancelled because of the snowstorm. And while the pay amount wasn’t disclosed - I used my common sense to deduce that anyone coming from a significant height, in the cold, to greet millions of New Year’s revelers was getting a hefty check – cancellation or not.

Then there was the ENTIRE one hour segment about Snooki’s decorated life and rise from the ranks of a slender cheerleader/self-professed popular girl who people were mean to – to the glorious, stubby-chub size Guidette the world loves. Simply enlightening really… I felt like I used all of half a brain cell to follow the progression of this rags-to-riches story and formation of Snooki’s poof. I mean it virtually is its own persona.

Just a few weeks ago, I was suffering at the hands of another bout of insomnia when I decided to check the current events. As I glossed over the world of doom & gloom that is CNN’s newsfeed, I chanced upon a small blurb in the entertainment section that read: “Snooki to speak at Rutgers University.” Obsession now in full gear I clicked the article and continued to read – knowing that the story would 1. Inflame me so much I would go to sleep in a rage 2. Really put some fire under my ass 3. Debase the sensibilities of the many educated, talented women I know or 4. All three combined. I wasn’t incensed at the thought that she would talk to college students. As per the article – the students wanted to hear her speak… >:-/ Her advice for all the adoring {albeit asinine} fans “work haahd, but party haahdah.” That pearl of wisdom netted Snooki $32,000. More than acclaimed author Toni Morrison when she spoke at the school.

Snooki even came up in a discussion during one of my Americorps orientation sessions….it was a safe space to briefly share my obsession and agreement of the fact that, in a fucked up world where young folks are struggling to do well after drowning in debt, aging their hard earned youngin’ livers to alcohol (ok - I added that one) and studying whatever subject we thought would manifest itself into a job for (at minimum) 4 years it makes no sense that someone with a personable poof, no formative life experiences, and sans sick body could pay off a good chunk of what we probably never will.

All ado about nothing….what has she done? Now I know life isn’t fair – but shit this aint even about that. What do I NEED to do?! Snooki has a commercial, she’s appeared on a number of different television shows, serious and comedic. I mean everytime I hear some new paycheck-generating scheme involving her I feel an overwhelming sense of the FML (fuck my life) sentiment in the pit of my stomach.

Now this should not be mistaken for hateration. As I’m always reminded by one of my friends who is pro the American dream, we all make choices and I shouldn’t complain. I know I could be making a lot more money if I choose another career choice. What I like to remind my friend about though is the fact that with that choice I would probably be miserable because I would hate to do something I deem meaningless. It also would be even more meaningless if I wasn’t working in the field that I studies and is costing me a whopping $80K.

The source of my angst is that mediocrity has become the norm. I was voted “Most likely to have her own reality TV show” in the black yearbook at Penn and I guess enough people saw something genuinely interesting about me to deem me the recipient of such a lucrative career. Not that I think it’s too late, on the contrary that should be the come up I should chase so I can join the upper echelons of mediocre, boring, and banal personalities like Audrina, Lauren Conrad, the Real World cast members, and the slew of others who have turned their 15 minutes into million dollar revenue streams. But what about the ladies I know who busted their ass and tacked on the annoying Sallie Mae collection agents to wheel behind them into every bullshit job interview where they gas you up only to never call again about a job?

It just seems twisted that this is the world we live in. I guess when I have kids, I should push them to go on some show – somewhere to get a fat check out the deal…I know in a lot of ways I’m old school in my thought process. I would love to know that the fruits of my labor and ingenuity will set me free and propel me into “Ballin!” status. And trust I don’t need to be super rich. I don’t want a yacht, I don’t want to marry rich and just be relegated to a house wife (because I love to work), and I don’t even need to fly first class (unless I’m going on a flight that’s more than 5 hours). I just want to be able to pay off my loans, own my car, and work on my own schedule so that I can have mimosas when I please, cut some deals while doing it, and travel whenever the price is right without having to request the time off…

It’s apparent though that in order to get there, and get my many hustles off the ground in a major way I’m going to have to pitch some show to somebody about the crazy antics of That Damn Anne! Which would be the only way to cure the FML symptoms of angst I feel whenever talent is cast aside in favor of the most un-learned people I’ve come to meet through my television set.

And when I do have my own show, me and my girls will be on the come up since that’s just how I roll. I just hope they have their personalities set for those spin-off opportunities and growing business contacts because those seeds are already planted in that crazy head of mine ;-)