Spike Lee & DJ Spinna
A crowd as far as the eye could see
♥ J'aime Bianca
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Friday, July 31, 2009
All The Single Ladies
"All the single ladies, all the single ladies..." - okay now listen up!
I am a self-professed hater - of technology, that is. Yes, it's great to be able to send a picture almost as soon as you take it. And the ability to have a navigation system at your fingertips when you've mistakenly arrived at 8th avenue, when you're actual destination is 8th street, is heaven sent. However, when it comes to the internet and matters of the heart, I loathe being involuntarily privy to the personal information of those I don't talk to on a regular basis.
How many people do you know that have had to completely remove their page from a social networking site because sorting through their virtual relationship shrine was too painful to do after the break up?
How many potential dates have you lost because of a picture or comment that was posted/tagged on your page? How many arguments have you gotten into with your significant other for the very same reason?
Have you ever been a victim of a G-chat, facebook, or AIM status assault?
Are you simply tired of having to change, or seeing someone change their relationship status online?
If you have answered in the affirmative to any of the previous questions, don't let yourself or someone you love be a victim any longer. I have a few successful tips to help you avoid the aforementioned heinous crimes...or your money back guaranteed (sorry, I couldn't help it).
All helpline/infomercial jokes aside, I live by a few personal page guidelines to avert any potential drama. For instance, I don't befriend anyone online that I have dated or had real feelings for because, 9 times out of 10, we're truly friends offline. The only loophole is a rebound guy whose friendship is determined by the amount of time spent with them. If it lasted for more than 3 months, their desire to possibly reconnect via the internet will forever live on as a mere "Friend Request". I also stay away from posting pictures of myself being overly affectionate with any guy - its gross publicly and equally as gross digitally.
I know as women, when a man has wronged us, we often feel compelled to post an indirect message to him in every online status possible. But please, just refrain. Because when others are able to track your emotional state online you tend to look like someone who is suffering from bipolar disorder, not a woman scorned. It's much more effective to anonymously bash him on dontdatehimgirl.com - I'm only kidding...that's even worse.
You will never see my relationship status posted online, because unless the status is "married to", to me, its not worth posting. Come to think of it, when I'm married my page will be inactive because my real life status will be...busy - I'd rather spend my time with my hands on my husband and NOT on a computer keyboard.
You might be thinking to yourself, "Hey aren't you writing about relationships on your blog?" Technically, I write about singlehood. And the major difference between my blog and the homepage of your favorite social networking site is you; YOU choose to read my blog because it is strictly for your reading pleasure and YOU will never be unwillingly bombarded with relationship madness.
Don't let your love life be as accessible as a google search of Amy Winehouse's tumultuous relationship with her former husband. Take a cue from Mrs. Sean Carter and try considering your personal relationship with a man sacred, something that should only be shared with the special, wise, and important people in your life. Maybe then he'll be more eager to "put a ring on it."
And for you textual harassers and tweeter beaters, don't think you've escaped my tirade; I have a blog on the way especially for you...
♥ J'aime Bianca
I am a self-professed hater - of technology, that is. Yes, it's great to be able to send a picture almost as soon as you take it. And the ability to have a navigation system at your fingertips when you've mistakenly arrived at 8th avenue, when you're actual destination is 8th street, is heaven sent. However, when it comes to the internet and matters of the heart, I loathe being involuntarily privy to the personal information of those I don't talk to on a regular basis.
How many people do you know that have had to completely remove their page from a social networking site because sorting through their virtual relationship shrine was too painful to do after the break up?
How many potential dates have you lost because of a picture or comment that was posted/tagged on your page? How many arguments have you gotten into with your significant other for the very same reason?
Have you ever been a victim of a G-chat, facebook, or AIM status assault?
Are you simply tired of having to change, or seeing someone change their relationship status online?
If you have answered in the affirmative to any of the previous questions, don't let yourself or someone you love be a victim any longer. I have a few successful tips to help you avoid the aforementioned heinous crimes...or your money back guaranteed (sorry, I couldn't help it).
All helpline/infomercial jokes aside, I live by a few personal page guidelines to avert any potential drama. For instance, I don't befriend anyone online that I have dated or had real feelings for because, 9 times out of 10, we're truly friends offline. The only loophole is a rebound guy whose friendship is determined by the amount of time spent with them. If it lasted for more than 3 months, their desire to possibly reconnect via the internet will forever live on as a mere "Friend Request". I also stay away from posting pictures of myself being overly affectionate with any guy - its gross publicly and equally as gross digitally.
I know as women, when a man has wronged us, we often feel compelled to post an indirect message to him in every online status possible. But please, just refrain. Because when others are able to track your emotional state online you tend to look like someone who is suffering from bipolar disorder, not a woman scorned. It's much more effective to anonymously bash him on dontdatehimgirl.com - I'm only kidding...that's even worse.
You will never see my relationship status posted online, because unless the status is "married to", to me, its not worth posting. Come to think of it, when I'm married my page will be inactive because my real life status will be...busy - I'd rather spend my time with my hands on my husband and NOT on a computer keyboard.
You might be thinking to yourself, "Hey aren't you writing about relationships on your blog?" Technically, I write about singlehood. And the major difference between my blog and the homepage of your favorite social networking site is you; YOU choose to read my blog because it is strictly for your reading pleasure and YOU will never be unwillingly bombarded with relationship madness.
Don't let your love life be as accessible as a google search of Amy Winehouse's tumultuous relationship with her former husband. Take a cue from Mrs. Sean Carter and try considering your personal relationship with a man sacred, something that should only be shared with the special, wise, and important people in your life. Maybe then he'll be more eager to "put a ring on it."
And for you textual harassers and tweeter beaters, don't think you've escaped my tirade; I have a blog on the way especially for you...
♥ J'aime Bianca
Friday, July 17, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
A Bite of the Big Apple – NYC Survival Guide
I would like to set the record straight. New Yorkers are not rude; people just fail to follow the rules of the city. For instance, in certain areas of Los Angeles, one must know when it is appropriate to wear red or blue; and in Washington D.C., shouting words or phrases like "bomb", "I love Bin Laden" or "I hate America" will more than likely cause you to be kidnapped in the middle of the night by men dressed in all black. So please, if you're going to visit, if you're thinking about visiting, or if you're simply watching something related to New York life on television, take a minute to read these rules - its essential to your survival in the city.
1. DO NOT stop in the middle of the sidewalk to take a picture of a famous site or
yourselves - most New Yorkers are usually on a mission to get somewhere and YOU
ARE IN THE WAY!
2. DO NOT walk four by four down the sidewalk - again, YOU ARE IN THE WAY!
3. Stay to the right - this is a universal rule in most major cities. If you're walking down the street, walk up or down stairs, or riding on an escalator, stay to the right because it allows people to pass you on the left...otherwise, YOU ARE STILL IN THE WAY!
4. Allow at least one step of space between you and the person in front of you when riding the escalator - no one wants to feel your breath on the back of their neck. This is also great for escape purposes in case of a pile up. Trust me, this alone saved me from a 12 person pile up that occurred when an old man fell at the bottom of the escalator at the 42nd Street AMC Theaters.
5. When entering the subway, move towards the center of the car - doing such allows the flow of traffic, in and out of the subway car, to occur more fluidly. But, if you like profanities being spewed at you or you enjoy being trampled, by all means, stand at the first bar closest to the door.
6. DO NOT stand in front of the car doors on the subway - do I really have to explain that you are in the way yet again.
7. When you go to sit down on the train - especially on an older subway with yellow and orange seats that have been molded to fit a particular body type - please do not do the sumo wrestler squat and assume there is enough space for you to take a seat. Say, "Excuse me," and wait for the non-verbal confirmation; otherwise, it's just rude and uncomfortable for everyone.
8. Be considerate when listening to your iPod, mp3 player, or phone - if you look around the subway, most people are reading and would prefer not to hear Gangster Rap, Heavy Metal, or Reggaeton while doing such.
9. Starring is NEVER appropriate.
10. DO NOT get offended when we New Yorkers roll our eyes when you say you want to go to Time Square. Its not you, we just know 9 times out of 10 there are tourist there breaking the above rules.
I'll be honest, I didn't realize how important these rules were until I moved here. It became even clearer after we had an influx of visitors during the holidays. So, consider yourself warned. And in the event you are here in New York and someone shoots you a crazy look, bumps into you, or shares a few choice words with you, take a minute to think if you've broken one of the rules.
♥ J'aime Bianca
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Harlem's Sorrow - In Honor of Michael Jackson
Apollo Theater
Gain A President, Lose A King
Memorial Wall Outside the Apollo
(Click the images to get a better look)
Gain A President, Lose A King
Memorial Wall Outside the Apollo
(Click the images to get a better look)
♥ J'aime Bianca
Saturday, April 4, 2009
I Am Not "The One"
Riddle Me This? Why is it that practically every man that I have invested more than five minutes of my time - as a friend, girlfriend, or the like - feels as though I am "the one"? I often wonder...
If I have been "the one" on more than one occasion, doesn't that make me another number at this point?
• Men have implicit qualifications for being “the one” that I have
If I have been "the one" on more than one occasion, doesn't that make me another number at this point?
If most men want to make me their wife, does that make me a pseudo-polyandrist (female polygamist)?
Perhaps it's my stretch marks secretly emitting childbearing energy into my aura that only men sense causing them to want to impregnate me.
And finally, if you believe that I am the one for you, but I don't believe you are the one for me, that technically means 1 + -1 = 0, and you have NOTHING!"
There's no way any of this is possible, which leads me to believe that this whole concept of "the one" is as big a myth as monogamy itself.
Allow me to digress. Contrary to what we are taught to believe, it is not human nature to want to be with one person; that's an act we practice because society says its right. There is no undiscovered formula to the reason why the divorce rate is so high or why Cheaters is such a popular television show. Its very simple, we are greedy and our natural instinct leads us to pursue multiple partners.
While we're on the subject, being with multiple partners is not impressive; it's actually effortless because it coincides with the laws of nature. Convincing a woman you have never met to sleep with you is easy; but try convincing a woman to make love to you when she knows you consistently pee on the toilet seat, your morning breath has the ability to reshape eyebrows, and you have a malignant mole growing three quarters of the way between your navel and your left nipple.
So again I ask, if it's our human nature to be with more than one person, where the heck did this obnoxious concept of "the one" come from and why do so many men assign me the title of such? It can only be one of three things:
There's no way any of this is possible, which leads me to believe that this whole concept of "the one" is as big a myth as monogamy itself.
Allow me to digress. Contrary to what we are taught to believe, it is not human nature to want to be with one person; that's an act we practice because society says its right. There is no undiscovered formula to the reason why the divorce rate is so high or why Cheaters is such a popular television show. Its very simple, we are greedy and our natural instinct leads us to pursue multiple partners.
While we're on the subject, being with multiple partners is not impressive; it's actually effortless because it coincides with the laws of nature. Convincing a woman you have never met to sleep with you is easy; but try convincing a woman to make love to you when she knows you consistently pee on the toilet seat, your morning breath has the ability to reshape eyebrows, and you have a malignant mole growing three quarters of the way between your navel and your left nipple.
So again I ask, if it's our human nature to be with more than one person, where the heck did this obnoxious concept of "the one" come from and why do so many men assign me the title of such? It can only be one of three things:
• Men have implicit qualifications for being “the one” that I have
unwillingly embodied
• There is a shortage of women who are smart, witty, understanding, adventurous
• There is a shortage of women who are smart, witty, understanding, adventurous
and challenging – which is not to be confused with combative
Or
• There is no such thing as “the one”I'll let you decide
♥ J'aime Bianca
Sunday, March 22, 2009
"The First Lady Looks Like Me!" (Circa November 4,2008)
Those who were around during the 50's and 60's can recall exactly where they were when Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his "I Have A Dream" speech or the glory years of the JFK era. Sadly, they might also recall when both of these iconic men were assassinated. As a product of the 80's, the only thing I can recall is reading about great leaders and momentous time periods in my History books. But five, ten, or twenty years from now, when someone asks me "Where were you the day Barak Obama was elected president?," I will proudly respond, "Harlem Baby!"
I woke up Election Day with a great sense of excitement...and paranoia. The idea that Obama could become the first Black President made me ecstatic; but the notion that racism was still prevalent and elections had and can be stolen made me nauseous. All day I prayed for my people and my future President. After reports that two skinheads had planned to assassinate Obama surfaced earlier during the week, I was positive the KKK had devised a plan to exterminate anyone who looked like they would vote Democratic or did not pass the paper bag test. However, when I heard that people in Harlem were waiting in line for more than four hours to use one working polling machine at a particular location, my paranoia subsided.
The lines at the local Harlem polling locations were reminiscent of those that formed on the election days that occurred after the Voting Rights Act passed in 1965. And at my particular polling location the machines looked like they were from 1965. "Excuse me Miss, I'm supposed to step behind this curtain, go through the board, switch the buttons for my selections, and pull the lever all the way across to the other side???" My voting experience was one unlike any other voting experience I had ever had. While in the ballot booth, I took a minute to think about how peaceful this day was going. Everyone there exuded an enormous amount of pride, class, and dignity; it truly reflected the entire Obama campaign. Disappointed that I was unable to attain a voter confirmation ticket or an "I Voted" sticker, I called my grandmother to see if she would be able to make it out to vote. She wasted no time telling me, "I'm going to go vote for Obama baby...that's my man. You know I saw him when he came to the church. There were more secret service men there than members."
As the night drew nearer, I prepared to go to my aunt's election party. I stopped by
Make My Cake Bakery to pick up some treats. In less than a minute I had a dozen Obama cupcakes and information on the largest outdoor election viewing party in Harlem. I stopped by the viewing party on 125th street before going to my Aunt's and was amazed by three things: the size of the screen streaming live CNN coverage, the size of the crowd, and the number of Black people selling bootleg Obama paraphernalia. About an hour after I arrived at my aunt's party, they declared Obama the winner. I was the youngest person at the party, yet I cried like a runaway slave that finally made it to freedom.
After some time, I found myself being drawn back towards the 125th street viewing party. The minute I, and a couple of folks from the party, walked out the apartment, I heard the people of Harlem roaring. Harlemites walked down the street congratulating one another and singing newly fabricated Obama songs. Standing in the center of 125th street and Adam Clayton Powell Blvd., I noticed the swarms of people coming from every direction making their way to this prime celebratory location. Eventually, the police gave up directing traffic and buses had to find an alternate route as the people continued to trickle in. I had never seen soooooooo many different races and ages of people joined together to celebrate in the magnitude they did that night. And with the African drummers playing in the background igniting the crowd that surrounded me, I found myself at a stand still thinking about one simple statement a young woman made as I was walking towards the festivities..."Finally, the first lady looks like me!"
I woke up Election Day with a great sense of excitement...and paranoia. The idea that Obama could become the first Black President made me ecstatic; but the notion that racism was still prevalent and elections had and can be stolen made me nauseous. All day I prayed for my people and my future President. After reports that two skinheads had planned to assassinate Obama surfaced earlier during the week, I was positive the KKK had devised a plan to exterminate anyone who looked like they would vote Democratic or did not pass the paper bag test. However, when I heard that people in Harlem were waiting in line for more than four hours to use one working polling machine at a particular location, my paranoia subsided.
The lines at the local Harlem polling locations were reminiscent of those that formed on the election days that occurred after the Voting Rights Act passed in 1965. And at my particular polling location the machines looked like they were from 1965. "Excuse me Miss, I'm supposed to step behind this curtain, go through the board, switch the buttons for my selections, and pull the lever all the way across to the other side???" My voting experience was one unlike any other voting experience I had ever had. While in the ballot booth, I took a minute to think about how peaceful this day was going. Everyone there exuded an enormous amount of pride, class, and dignity; it truly reflected the entire Obama campaign. Disappointed that I was unable to attain a voter confirmation ticket or an "I Voted" sticker, I called my grandmother to see if she would be able to make it out to vote. She wasted no time telling me, "I'm going to go vote for Obama baby...that's my man. You know I saw him when he came to the church. There were more secret service men there than members."
As the night drew nearer, I prepared to go to my aunt's election party. I stopped by
Make My Cake Bakery to pick up some treats. In less than a minute I had a dozen Obama cupcakes and information on the largest outdoor election viewing party in Harlem. I stopped by the viewing party on 125th street before going to my Aunt's and was amazed by three things: the size of the screen streaming live CNN coverage, the size of the crowd, and the number of Black people selling bootleg Obama paraphernalia. About an hour after I arrived at my aunt's party, they declared Obama the winner. I was the youngest person at the party, yet I cried like a runaway slave that finally made it to freedom.
After some time, I found myself being drawn back towards the 125th street viewing party. The minute I, and a couple of folks from the party, walked out the apartment, I heard the people of Harlem roaring. Harlemites walked down the street congratulating one another and singing newly fabricated Obama songs. Standing in the center of 125th street and Adam Clayton Powell Blvd., I noticed the swarms of people coming from every direction making their way to this prime celebratory location. Eventually, the police gave up directing traffic and buses had to find an alternate route as the people continued to trickle in. I had never seen soooooooo many different races and ages of people joined together to celebrate in the magnitude they did that night. And with the African drummers playing in the background igniting the crowd that surrounded me, I found myself at a stand still thinking about one simple statement a young woman made as I was walking towards the festivities..."Finally, the first lady looks like me!"
♥ J'aime Bianca
Back to Blogging
When my three biggest blog fans - my mother and my co-workers Alex and Mr. Mitchell - started asking me why I haven't blogged, it made me wonder, "What have I been doing with my time?" To be honest, I'm not really sure. I know I have a digital camera full of pictures and a notebook full of rough blogs, but I haven't birthed a blog since October - and a distinctively creative blog since the first few. I'm not sure if I am having a muted internal battle or if waking up at 4:30am every weekday has completely drained me creatively. Who knows, but now that I am conscious of others desire to read my work, I have committed myself to blogging again...Lord knows I hate commitments.
P.S. - Despite my absolute hatred of back-blogs, I will be sprinkling in a few blogs that I wrote during my writing sabbatical between November and March (you'll be able to distinguish them by the "Circa" written next to the title).
P.S. - Despite my absolute hatred of back-blogs, I will be sprinkling in a few blogs that I wrote during my writing sabbatical between November and March (you'll be able to distinguish them by the "Circa" written next to the title).
♥ J'aime Bianca
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
