i been up since 8:30. got up & went to the gym. i just got back & now i smell like death warmed over. twice. shower time in a minute.
im tired.
went to innanapolis this past weekend to help big brother pack up & get ready to move. i wont go into detail in an effort to keep this entry user friendly for our innanapolis viewing audience, but lemme just say that indianapolis is by far the most depressing place ive ever been to. ever. and this is after seein park hill AND bein stranded in the south side of chicago. what really strikes me is that there are flowers *everywhere* tho. even in the midst of all the gloom & doom. it's almost poetic.
actually it's very poetic.
maybe ill try & write about it one day if i can ever manage to get my literary uzi back. which i dont think will ever happen these days.
speakin of which, i got a funny story to tell. im talkin to gio a couple days ago about my writer's block and he's like 'yo, ima tell u what--check out this cat's music... his name is science fiction... he's originally from nigeria... i guarantee you'll get some good pieces outta his music. u heard of him?'
lol
i was like yeah, i know him. spoke to him the other day, come to think of it. he was like 'wow!!! really?? how!' lol. so i proceeded to tell him bout how i used to chump him for his milk money back in the day.
it was dope to see that folks is listenin to sci fly.
and it was dope to hear that that was sci's response when i told him the story. mark of a good person.
what else...
my speech went well. i read it for dean vetter & dean shannon and that strawberry blonde lady in the chapel, of all places. when i first started reading, the lady was lookin at me with her face all wrinkled up, like she had a real bad taste in her mouth, and i got scared cause i thought that meant she hated it already. and then she stopped me and i was like now i KNOW she hates it. but she just cldn't hear me b/c of the echo in the chapel.
we shld hear who gets it early this week sometime.
graduation is creepin closer and closer, and the closer it gets, the less excited i get cause i still dont have an answer to the 'what's next?' question that i get asked no less than 8 times a week.
i need money.
and human contact. im turnin into a recluse, man. im reverting back to the shell i thought i'd thrown away 4, 5 yrs ago. i sit in my room all the time by myself doin nuthin. i live for late night conversations w/ my baby and honestly that's the most contact i get during the day. seriously. i need to get outta this funk.
i need to get outta this place
but lately evrytime i try, i fuck it up sumthin else fucks it up. normally it's me.
first i fucked up gettin my baby here for graduation. not once, but twice.
then i completely forgot about my meeting w/ the career development office & the lady who was posed to help me w/ my resume and stuff. fucked that all up. now i gotta schedule another one during her busiest time of the year.
im getting really tired of alla this
but i refuse to sit down and get stuck here
so ima keep on the best way i can, which doesnt seem good enuff right now
the klan's gonna march in louisville on derby day. fuckin a.
today was the first day of class. takin 'literature of the american south.' i can take it credit/no credit, but im gonna take it for a grade. see if i can prove myself a bit.
still dont have any idea what ima do when i graduate.
i gotta read for the deans tomorrow. im wearin my pimp hat for confidence.
my computer crashed. hard drive's gone. they managed to save my text and music files tho so im straight. i got my brother's laptop for the time bein.
i still dont feel good, but im feelin better.
talked to my daddy on the horn last nite. this was the product:
TracimusLynnicus: donnie
d j A y 7 8: trace.
TracimusLynnicus: myfather is an idiot.
d j A y 7 8: ?
d j A y 7 8: ha...oookay
TracimusLynnicus: he makes me not want to talk to him.
TracimusLynnicus: he's such a fucking republican.
TracimusLynnicus: ugh i feel like vomitting
d j A y 7 8: you just get off the phone w/ him?
d j A y 7 8: what did he say
TracimusLynnicus: yeah, man
TracimusLynnicus: we were talkin bout me bein an english major
TracimusLynnicus: and somehow he starts talkin bout how most blk ppl do bad in english because they speak 'broken english.'
TracimusLynnicus: before i continue
d j A y 7 8: whoa
TracimusLynnicus: let me point out that my father does NOT speak perfect english
TracimusLynnicus: and he's black.
TracimusLynnicus: what's that u say? sounds like self hate?
TracimusLynnicus: yes. i think so too.
TracimusLynnicus: so i, of course, beg to differ with him.
TracimusLynnicus: i say that u gotta take into account the shitty ass schools blk ppl are forced in to
TracimusLynnicus: bad, outta date books
TracimusLynnicus: bad teachers
TracimusLynnicus: lack of opportunity & whatchacallit
TracimusLynnicus: ummm
TracimusLynnicus: access!
TracimusLynnicus: to better stuff
d j A y 7 8: shoot...bad environment
TracimusLynnicus: and he goes on and on about how blk ppl just dont wanna learn, basically
TracimusLynnicus: yeah!
TracimusLynnicus: and how if u sit down to read a book, it's your job to grasp and comprehend
TracimusLynnicus: and the other stuff has little to do with it.
TracimusLynnicus: hello, nigga, if i sit down here with a quantum physics book
TracimusLynnicus: and read it from cover to cover
TracimusLynnicus: and STILL dont get it
TracimusLynnicus: it's not my fault
TracimusLynnicus: that's what teachers are for
TracimusLynnicus: and if u have a teacher that doesn't give a shit about what u learn
TracimusLynnicus: u're not gonna learn
TracimusLynnicus: and if u're readin from a flawed book
TracimusLynnicus: readin from it is pointless in the first place
d j A y 7 8: either way you end up behind the white kids
TracimusLynnicus: exactly.
TracimusLynnicus: oh and THEN
TracimusLynnicus: i sy
TracimusLynnicus: *say
TracimusLynnicus: 'this is the same sort of argument that ppl use to blame poor ppl for bein poor'
TracimusLynnicus: then he laughs, donnie, and says real smug
TracimusLynnicus: 'so why are poor ppl poor then?'
TracimusLynnicus: sone of a bitch
TracimusLynnicus: i cut the convo short right then.
TracimusLynnicus: *son
TracimusLynnicus: u know
TracimusLynnicus: conversations like this make me glad i didnt grow up with him
TracimusLynnicus: i cant imagine bein fed such bullshit.
TracimusLynnicus: -done-
d j A y 7 8: whoa.
d j A y 7 8: The only thing you can do...
d j A y 7 8: is prove him wrong
d j A y 7 8: I mean..
d j A y 7 8: you already have in a sense
d j A y 7 8: You're a living example of that
TracimusLynnicus: yeah
TracimusLynnicus: and then he was like
TracimusLynnicus: 'these kids learn english in school, but then when they get outta class and come home, they speak the same old slang'
TracimusLynnicus: im like um.... so do u
TracimusLynnicus: *i
TracimusLynnicus: *so do i
TracimusLynnicus: donnie, he degrades me
d j A y 7 8: "these kids"
TracimusLynnicus: evrytime he talks about 'these kids'
TracimusLynnicus: he doesnt seem to know that IM wunna these kids
TracimusLynnicus: he talks bad about the end of town i grew up & lived in
TracimusLynnicus: like he didn't grow up & live there too
d j A y 7 8: What do you think started this?
TracimusLynnicus: i dont know, man
TracimusLynnicus: i dont know enuff about him to know.
TracimusLynnicus: and this sorta bullshit makes me not wanna know anything about him
TracimusLynnicus: sometimes.
d j A y 7 8: He calls you to talk though
d j A y 7 8: right?
TracimusLynnicus: yeah.
TracimusLynnicus: and lord does he talk.
d j A y 7 8: Just to "catch up" with you?
d j A y 7 8: does he? ha ha
TracimusLynnicus: presumably.
TracimusLynnicus: he always does most of the talkin tho
TracimusLynnicus: its hard to get a word in edgewise.
d j A y 7 8: THAT'S HOW I FEEL W/ YOU! Must run in the family!
d j A y 7 8: (jokes)
TracimusLynnicus: i will smack u.
TracimusLynnicus: in the eye.
d j A y 7 8: w/ a hot dog?
TracimusLynnicus: with a foreign object.
and now, im goin to bed. im tryna look cute tomorrow, which means i gotta catch up on my beauty sleep. badly.
last night i dreamt of graduation. all the graduating seniors and their families were in the campus center gym the night before graduation & i was on stage, reading my speech. this was the final try-out before i'd find out it i'd get to read at graduation or not. i was on stage and everyone was watching and listening. i did horribly. hor.rib.ly.
im not looking forward to graduation as much as i have been.
i want him there with me so bad man. im very ashamed of and disappointed in myself. im too tired of thinkin about it to go into details. its been on my mind all day. for the past three days, really; i feel like im stuck between a rock and a hard place, only thing is i cld free myself of the rock if i'd just push hard enuff, but im too big a punk to push.
all this is makin me realize how much growin i still have to do.
its also remindin me of how close im comin to the crossroads. i have to find somethin to do with myself. i have to, and soon.
schoolin in atlanta.
internin in philly.
schoolin in chicago.
workin in louisville.
i dont wanna do any of those 100%. i dont know where to move to, but i dont wanna get stuck in louisville. i wanna leave now, while i have the nerve. but i dont know where to go. but i have to go. but where?
i dont wanna think about it right now. but that's my problem. not thinkin about it. i stop thinking about things when they start stressin me.
they've been stressin me all day.
when i feel bad internally, i feel ugly externally. that contributed to my already anti-social, reclusive mood and i stayed inside, in my room, all day today. it was 70 degrees out. sunny. and i didn't go enjoy any of it. days like this sometimes just remind me of how freakin lonely this place is.
i really gotta bounce up outta here, man.
sometimes i just wanna leave, in the middle of the night with all the shit i can fit into two medium-sized bags and go. start all over again, clean slate. new place, new people. completely new. clean slate.
i was worryin about where ill be in 6 months today, stressin over everything, when i came close to tear. but then, sumthin in me snapped and i started cleaning. cleaning and drinking obscene amounts of water. i guess subconsciously i am tryna clean that slate, to flush my system and start over with a healthier mind state.
*sigh*
i just dont know.
i dont even know what it is that i dont know anymore.
after another nitpicky manpost on okp today, i posted the following this evening:
Trace
Member since Sep-16-02
5899 posts Apr-14-04, 04:45 PM (EST)
"man, i got some cellulite."
**this is a rant ive ranted many times before, inspired by that other post, but its just a rant. its not directed at anybody in particular, i promise.**
------------------------------
so yeah, i got some cellulite.
stretch marks too.
got a little pot in my belly. (c) badu
there are more women who have these 'imperfections' than women who dont.
women are not perfect.
neither are men.
neither is anybody.
when bubba said that none of us will ever date a model, he was fairly accurate.
ppl stay nitpickin about the natural. stretch marks are natural. cellulite is natural--neither means that u're obese or out of shape. lotsa that is in herited from our mothers and mothers and mothers. i think thats what hurts and unnerves me most; it ain't like a bad choice in clothing or a tacky shade of eyeshadow. lotsa this stuff comes with being female and to be told we aint good enuff b/c of that?
yeah, so what, exercise, tighten up the 'lite. holla @ some cocoa butter or lasers or some expensive cream for the marks. why? so u'll like my ass enuff to look at that more than u do the rest of me?
im good enuff to oogle when im done up nice & pretty in some jeans, but undress me, see the real me & u too good. gimmie a break.
im sorry that TV got some ppl thinkin that 'perfection' is more than the 2% of the american population that it is.
and hopefully this goes without sayin, but when bubba said none of us will ever date a model?
he meant men AND women.
sweep around ur own front doors before u go loose-lippin about my dirt.
and im done.
this post may fall @ will.
--------------------------------
later tonite, this happened:
TracimusLynnicus: dude
TracimusLynnicus: u missed the best american idol performance ever
AeonRock: word?
TracimusLynnicus: yeah man
TracimusLynnicus: fantasia ripped it
TracimusLynnicus: and teddy just pissed me off
TracimusLynnicus: sorry bout the delay.
AeonRock: s coo
TracimusLynnicus: goooooooooooood im still on the phone :-(
TracimusLynnicus: off.
TracimusLynnicus: good.
TracimusLynnicus: u gone?
AeonRock: nope
TracimusLynnicus: i sincerely hope he doesnt call back
TracimusLynnicus: im just not gonna answer the phone.
AeonRock: y?
TracimusLynnicus: i dont have the patience
TracimusLynnicus: he has a tendency of sayin ignorant shit just to make me mad
TracimusLynnicus: tonite i called him on it
TracimusLynnicus: like, seriously, for the first time
TracimusLynnicus: now he's actin all innocent & shit
TracimusLynnicus: 'woah, woah, what's wrong?'
TracimusLynnicus: 'all i said was...'
TracimusLynnicus: nigga u know what u said. so i try to let it go
TracimusLynnicus: he keeps bringin it up, tryna redeem himself
TracimusLynnicus: make it seem like im overreactin & put it all on me
AeonRock: sorry
TracimusLynnicus: 's okay
AeonRock: so whatd he say?
AeonRock: or dont wanna repeat?
TracimusLynnicus: nuthin for real
TracimusLynnicus: we was watchin american idol & fantasia was singin
TracimusLynnicus: & he's like 'yeah, shes got a nice voice, she can sing'
TracimusLynnicus: 'but she's got stretch marks, tho.'
TracimusLynnicus: .
TracimusLynnicus: nigga so do i
TracimusLynnicus: and so does yo mama, thanks to yo big ass head
TracimusLynnicus: ordinarily i wldnt care but he says she to get my goat
TracimusLynnicus: & he got it tonite & now he dont know what to make of it.
TracimusLynnicus: as we speak he's prolly demonizin me to his lil friends on the phone right now
TracimusLynnicus: how i blew up over nuthin.
AeonRock: werd
TracimusLynnicus: that's some childish stuff, man
TracimusLynnicus: he's like the only of my friends ive ever yelled at
TracimusLynnicus: ever
TracimusLynnicus: or got close to yellin at
TracimusLynnicus: or at least had a verbal spat with.
AeonRock: :-
---------------
-prologue-
i stood back and watched them babies dance
lil liteskinned girls, all of them
with almost-curly-but-not-quite kinks
did up in ball-balls and barrets
and smiles
lord how them babies gave us smiles
brighter than they skin
cause they were showin us what they had learned
of their mothers and of Africa
bells on they ankles
that used to be shackles
mouths full of ancient gospel
they barely understood
them babies danced
landin light on liteskinned feet and
parting the air with tan hands
they mamas and daddies, some lighter
some darker, they all smiled
cause they babies weren't out in the street
learnin god knows what from god knows who
they wasn't our walkin the path that landed
so many other blklives
where whitefolk expect us to be
--------
we never forget to worry bout
what blkfolk expect us to be.
we must have sumthin in us
we got brighter and browner than new pennies and
soft peanut butter cream for skin
and seas and oceans of waves rooted in our scalps
and names that aint spelled like Saffronia
but sound the same
we ain't all blk, but we still got that ass, tho
we still got that nose and them hips
and that slip in our backbones ttat make us okay
to be wanted and lusted and lovingly fetishized
eroticized beyond recognition/we just a
big blur of foreign Afrikanness
a silent burning haze of
always almost-but-not-quite blakness
we aint all blk & we think we 'all that'
sumthin must be in us
and we must be extra proud of it
the weight of big curly ponytails or
long tractless tresses aint what forces us to
strain to hold our heads high
we must think we're better
fuck that, we know we better &
we got a right to overlook you
bequeathed to us by the motherfuckers
who so graciously fucked our mothers
against their wills
so that we can continue the division
that makes us easier to conquer.
liteskinned girls got vocal cords
sometimes shorned lighter than their flesh
when we try to speak about our frustration
our voices suddenly take the cadences of rich ppl
complainin bout designer shoes
not comin in the right color
when we shout about justice and injustice
and reparations and control of blk bodies
we must be compensating for something
someone told us was missing
when we were young and dancing for Africa
with bells around our ankles
(today they mask the shackles)
and ancient gospel in our mouths
that ppl assume we can't understand
cause the curls and waves clog our ears
and cloud our eyes
(is this why we lock our hair?
to see clearer?)
whether locked or permed or
pressed or curled,
tomorrow seems destined to be filled full of nothing but
hair that dont have to be permed and nails
that dont need acryllic tips
we will get picked first to
take food from our babies mouths
to buy thousand dollar outfits and
shake our asses in somebody's video
and directly after we'll rejoin the welfare lines
we'll go to the section 8 offices
to city hall to bail out our sons and husbands or
to the city morgue to identify our sons and husbands
we'll look for African dance classes
to put our lil liteskinned babies in
in hopes of givin them a shelter of commonality
to shield them in this unsleeping storm of 'other'ness
to keep them outta the street,
learnin god knows what from god knows who
we won't want them on that path
that has put our babies right where whitefolk
expect them to be
but our own roads are strewn with
hazardous self-hatred and
too many poisoned-tipped forks
that force us to choose between ourselves
and ourselves.
----------
-epilogue-
there is somethin in us.
it is that same somethin that was put into our grandmothers
and yours
something they didn't want
and didn't ask for
and now we're all strugglin with the afterbirth
tryin to lick it from our necks and napes
not realizing that we'll be free of the past much quicker
if we forget it long enough to wash
and watch
each other's backs.
Imagine a braid. One big, long, huge braid of three locks of hair or more. One lock decides it doesn’t want to be restricted and held down by the structure and order of the braid anymore. It would rather be loosed, left to bend and sway at will, tastefully unkempt, unruly, but beautiful nonetheless. I suppose that if it wanted to wriggle free on its own, it could do so, but imagine the struggle, the exhaustion and frustration, and the time it would take. Hair is fragile; I reckon the ends of most of them would split along the way, and that split would eventually grow and grow until pieces started breaking off. At the end of the years it would take that strand to wriggle and free itself of the bind, what with being intertwined with the other strands, woven tight, there would be little left.
Braiding is a tradition among black folk.
We do so much braiding, so much weaving. And so much wriggling. We’ve been wriggling since we’ve been here, twisting and turning, bending our backs even after they’ve been broken, squeezing and stretching and slinking through and flattening out and contorting, trying to get out of our boxes and chains in one way or another. We just want the chance and the space to be beautifully unkempt. That’s what any strand of hair in a braid wants. No one is born with braided hair. As beautiful as they are they are forced into our tresses by others, and later by ourselves once we learn the trade.
Our scalps breathe a sigh of relief when we let our braids out. Our fingers scurry and scamper from this lock to that one, freeing and liberating piece after piece after piece and we know from experience that one strand can’t be free without the freeing of another. The liberation of one depends on the liberation of the others.
The liberation of one depends on the liberation of others.
So many black people get angry when others compare the gay rights movement to the Civil Rights Movement of the 60s and 70s. They take it as an insult, arguing that they’re two different things completely, which is absurd. There were once laws telling black folks who they could and could not marry, and unless we’ve been living under rocks or in caves lately, we’re well aware of the effort to ban gay marriage today. For years, black people in the public eye (television, movies, cartoons, etc) took (and still take) the form of stereotypical, offensive caricatures, rivaled today by images like those found in “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.” Blacks and gays are frequent victims of hate crimes and workplace discrimination. The biggest difference I can see between gay and African America is that characteristically, blacks experience more incidences of violent crime and are the more impoverished and unhealthier of the two, which then draws issues of class and elitism. Still, the parallels are too uncanny to ignore. It makes sense that someone oppressed in this country could and would empathize with the plight of other oppressed people. But we get upset. We get angry and make ignorant, homophobic comments. We imitate the mannerisms of the oppressors and color ourselves no better than them. We simply help divide ourselves, making ourselves easier for the one group who is ultimately keeping us all down to conquer. It sometimes seems as if we are all demanding priority in the order of dominations, competing to be the most oppressed in America. We are, as hip hop artist Talib Kweli once said, “like slaves on a ship, talkin’ about who got the flyest chain.”**
You don’t have to be gay to understand the importance of gay liberation. You don’t have to be Asian or Latino or Middle Eastern or Native American or Black to understand the importance of “racial” liberation. You don’t have to be a woman to understand the importance of sexual liberation. You don’t have to be working class to understand the importance of economic class liberation.
All you have to do is recognized the many ways that you are privileged over others in this country—and there is always a way, be it by your race, your class, gender, sexuality, age, etc—because once you allow yourself to see that privilege, you can then see and understand your oppression. And maybe once you see your own oppression, you can see that ultimately we are all tenants of the same braid, all aching and itching and wriggling to be beautifully unkempt.
Tomorrow, Friday, April 9th, we celebrate Liberation Day to commemorate the surrender of General Robert E. Lee to the Union 139 years ago. More than that, we celebrate the attained and pending liberation of all people, gay, straight, black, white, brown, male, female, upper and working class, “eastern” and “western.” The braid will unravel much quicker if we all work proactively towards our universal roots.
That’s liberation, and baby, I want it. –Outkast
*Talib Kweli, “I Try” from the album Beautiful Struggle, Rawkus Records, 2004.
**Talib Kweli, "Africa Dream" from the album Reflection Eternal, Rawkus Records, 2004.
On behalf of the Senior Celebration Committee I would like to thank you for taking the time to prepare a speech for possible inclusion in this year’s commencement program. Each speech was unique and inspiring in its own way and we all enjoyed hearing them! I am pleased to announce that after careful consideration and review, the committee chose Kassandra Barnes, Tracy Clayton and Catherine Ford as student speaker finalists.
Again, thank you for your time and effort in this important project of the Class of 2004. If you have any concerns or suggestions for making it even better in years to come, I would be happy to talk with you. You may reach me in the Alumni Office at 233-8213.
I wish each of you the best of luck in your final days at Transylvania and look forward to seeing you during Senior Celebration events.
even if i'd had a flawless delivery, it wldn't have gotten chosen.
the skinny blonde girl who opened hers with a quote from dave matthews will more than likely get it.
this is why i never admit that i have goals or get excited about going for somethin or claimin an achievement for myself. cause if i dont builld myself up, i wont have too far to fall when it dont happen, then i can just be like 'oh, well, it's whatever.'
that's the speech i wrote to submit to the selection committee in applying to be senior commencement speaker. i thought it was due today. it was due yesterday at 5. i found this out at 3:30. that's the best i could do in editing and revising in that amt of time.
im not confident in it.
everyone else likes it.
i read it for the selection comittee tomorrow at 6:30 pm.
catrice, my first roommate is applyin too. i officially wont be mad if i don't get it--as long as she doesn't get it over me. i cant stand her and she dont deserve it. baldheaded hoe.
so wish me luck yall.
today in lifetime fitness we took out post tests to see how much we've improved over the semester. we hadda run a mile & a half, which i cldn't do at the beginning of the semester b/c of my knees. i did it this time w/ little to no pain, which was great; took me 18:14 to do it, but i did it. and i only had to walk one lap out of the 16 & a half. im proud of me.
and, at the beginning of the semester i cld only do 4 push ups. now?
ELEVEN BAYBEE!
gettin that upperbody on the same level as the lower!
plus i been feelin fat lately, but now i feel like im slimmin up. must be cause im movin again.
