The Human Race

“Look at us. Running around, always rushed, always late. I guess that’s why they call it the human race. What we crave most in this world is connection. For some people it happens at first site. It’s when you know, you know. It’s fate working its magic. And that’s great for them. They get to live in a pop song; ride the express train. But that’s not the way it really works. For the rest of us it’s a bit less romantic. It’s complicated and it’s messy. It’s about horrible timing and fumbled opportunities. And not being able to say what you need to say when you need to say it. At least, that’s the way it was for me.”- The Switch (2010)

 

This quote is from the movie The Switch (2010). “Love at first site” is bullshit! If that were the case I’d be in love with thousands of people around the world. The “L” word is thrown around carelessly. Children/teens are walking around saying they love each other. Why isn’t this word sacred. I hear stories about couples that have been in LOVE and are still in LOVE ’til this day. What happened? Where did we as a people go wrong?

 

I often find myself being hung up on the littlest things. When I’m standing in line and a nice handsome man lets me in front of him. I hear wedding bells. But to him, he was just being nice or waiting on his significant other to come in line so he can check out with her. When I’m in a restaurant and a guy waves or winks at me, I instantly pick out baby names. When he waving or winking at the person behind me. Yep, I’m that girl. I think too much into things. I stress over the little things. That’s me. I never give up on love no matter how much I get hurt, at least I don’t stop trying.

Just yesterday I was on Facebook commenting on a status and some person liked my comment. I went to see who it was and I saw that it was someone I went to high school with. I then began to go into “teenage girl” mode and search him. I went to his profile and clicked on his pictures, his posts, his friends, family members. I even googled him. I found his twitter, his Instagram, and I found his Myspace. I mean I seriously stalked him all from a “like” on my comment.

What has happened to me? Am I the only one that does this? I can even remember breaking up with one of my ex’s and stalking him on every social media to-date! I’m not sure why I do this. It has to be something in my brain that makes me stalk. I’m not ashamed nor proud of my abilities. I consider myself a P.I Investigator. I’ve Google(d)/Bing(ed) many people. Is it so wrong to actually look up and search people? Why would it be wrong? Do you search others?

Just like the quote says, we as humans crave connection. We crave affection, attention, and love. There has got to be something within each and everyone of us that triggers our need for companionship. No matter how you find your partner, whether it be through social media, dating networking sites, etc., we want that word… That L word. LOVE. You can deny it all you want. There are the people who claim the “single life” is best life and that they’re perfectly fine with being alone. We all know someone like this. It could even be you. But deep down inside you want to be wanted, you need to be needed.

 

I’m going to wrap this up! Love is a very special thing. It’s what keeps us going. What motivates us. It’s what makes us… Well. US! You can be the most cynical person on earth, me and you both know, there’s an optimistic person out there for you. It’s only a matter of time.

 

 

 

20140606-215520-78920099.jpg

Black Coffee 2 creams with sugar, Please

“Hi, how may I help you?”

—“Ummm. I’m not quite sure yet.”

“Is this your first time here?”

—“Why yes it is.”

“Okay, well what can I get for you? Anything seem to catch your eye?”

—“Hmmm. I don’t know just yet.”

“Well, when you do. We’ll always be here.”

 

How do you take your coffee? I’m not one to discriminate. There’s just something about a warm coffee to wake you up in the morning and get you on the go. But what’s coffee without your cream and sugar? What’s life without it all? How do you take your coffee? Do you prefer black coffee? Vanilla bean? How about ice cold coffees? Do you like mocha lattes? Frappes? What’s your preference? What does your coffee say about you? Do you drink coffee?

Let me tell you how I like my coffee—

I like my coffee straight out the pot. There’s just something about the hot, steam that inner tangles with your lips and tongue as it slides down your throat warming your body in ways you can’t begin to explain. Your body illuminates as your eyes open wide. This is how I like my coffee. I like my coffee strong. No weaknesses, sugar, or creams needed.

Give it to me straight!

After all what’s the purpose of a weak coffee? It doesn’t wake you up. Make you feel alive inside. It doesn’t carry on for your hardest days. When it’s crunch time I do not want or need weak coffee.

Give it to me strong!

My coffee never lets me down. It’s a pick me up when I feel down. More than a confidant. My coffee takes all my troubles away. That stream of coffee every time I sip takes me on a joy ride.

 

BUT.

They say you’re not living until you’ve had coffee with vanilla cream. And what’s cream without sugar?

What’s life without a little risk? Ha!

 

 

“Hi, how are you this morning?”

—“I’m doing well.”

“That’s great what can I get for you?”

—-Ehhh.

“Decisions. Decisions.”

—“Yes, many decisions. But I think I know what I want.”

“What would that be?

—“Black Coffee. Scratch that, I’ll try the vanilla bean.”

“Sounds good. Anything else?”

—“Yes, I’ll take that with 2 creamers and sugar”

 

 

How do you take your coffee?

20140606-215321-78801147.jpg

Dear Little Black Girl,

It took me awhile to sit here and write this post. I do my best thinking at night. I’ve been through sooooooooo many things in my life for me to only be 20. But I’m appreciative of the mistakes, trials, and tribulations that come with being a young black female. See, I grew up in a middle class home. We were comfortable. We had money in the bank, and the bills were paid. Now, don’t you go judging me. I’m not all high and mighty. I’ve been through “the struggle”. There have been times that the lights or water were off but that never lasted long. I had a family to support me no matter what. You would think that my life would be easy with bumps and bruises here and there. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. See my mom always told me “Jazmin, no matter what you do, how you do it, or when you do it. You’re going to have to do it twice as well, and work twice as hard.” I never knew what she meant. I let her words float to the back of my head.

As a young woman today. I now know what she meant.

Do me a favor, before you continue reading this post, look down at your arms or legs or whatever limbs you have. What do you see? Do you see two arms? Do you see two hands with 5 fingers on each? If not dial 911! Haha. Do you see two legs and two feet with 5 toes on each? Okay. There’s one thing that differs you from the next person. Its your skin. Not just your skin. It’s the pigment of your skin. Do me this one last favor, look down and tell me the color of your skin? What’s your race? Heritage? Background? Ethnicity?

 

You see I’m a product of African American descent. No, I am not black. I am brown. Smooth and creamy mahogany brown. I have the slight- deep dark rose cheeks with a gold undertone. I have silky jet black hair that will mesmerize you ever time I turn my head. My dark brown eyes will melt your heart. My lips do wonders while whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

 

But.. None of that matters. Why? You know why! Don’t act brand new!! I’m black can’t you see. No matter how hard I work, no matter what I do I’ll always be this way. My mind may very well be intelligent but that wont change my skin. I don’t have a problem being African American. I honestly don’t. It’s the working twice as hard as the next person just to get half way there. All of my life I’ve had to work twice as hard; in the classrooms, jobs, internships, leadership positions, etc. The list can go on and on for days but I wont keep you here that long.

I’m now coming to terms that I am who I am and there’s not a thing I can do about it. I do get tired. I do. But I still fight. I still work. I’m still me. When a job is passed to another person of lesser quality because of my color. I don’t get upset. I try again. And I try even harder the next time. I polish and finesse my skill set and give it another go. This is what you should do. So take notes here (little black girl).

It doesn’t bother me that racism is still very well alive in today’s society. Nor should it bother you.

 

 

I am battered and offended when I am done wrong by another person of color. It’s not the opposing race that will break your heart. Its the people that share the same background as you. Can you believe it? Your own people hurting you. Brothers, Sisters, Cousins, Nephews, Friends. I am you. You are me. We.

How can a people that have been through a tremendous amount of suffering still find it in themselves to condemn their own people? This question is still unanswered.

 

 

And this is what hurts me the most.

 

20140606-215850-79130432.jpg