I know this is old, but I want to post a video of the first step show I ever participated in with my sorors. I loved every second of preparing for this show...take a look and you will love it!! Oh yeah, we wond 1st Place :)
Saturday, July 11, 2009
How did I get here?
Although that I feel the chances of people really reading my blog and finding my life the half bit interesting, I cant seem to take my hands away from this laptop and write about the changes that I want to occur in my life so bad. I am a mix between scared, lost and wondering where my life will be and what is so important about me that is going to force people to think ::who is she:: when they see me.
My whole life, I have been the person who was the follower in a group of beautiful girls who I felt had it made. I have severe self conscious issues and I am my biggest critic. There were nights when I was a preteen where I would wear a towel around my head because I dreamed of having long hair. There were days at the dinner table where I stared in space, not touching my food, thinking about the perfect body image, wearing that white bikini and having men stare at me like I was a piece of meat. I yearned to be treated the way that women despise by men, because I was never paid attention to, whistled at, "holla'd at," even had a dude grab my arm in the club. My girls were so used to having this attention because they were beautiful, and I always heard them complain about how they hated it when boys did this and called too much and stared at you some kind of way. Secretly, when a guy did give me that lame line that every girl got, I finally felt pretty and wanted. I was in the society where I at least had something that attracted men to me. Was it my smile? My wit? Or the fact that I had developed huge boobs by the time I was 13? I will never know, but I loved feeling like I was pretty by the disgusting excuses that I called "cute boys" who didnt have a penny to there name and was seeking one thing...getting in between.
The worst feeling in the world for me was hanging out at social event with my friends (i.e. party, bar, high-school dance or even the hallway), and all of my peers are getting the attention that I felt I couldn't have. I wasn't a size 2, 3, 4, 5 or 6 in high school up through college like the rest of my girls, I was 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16. Everyday, I wake up and wonder how I am going to be reminded today that I am not the girl with the sexy, slender awesome body. Yes, I was a cheerleader and played softball, but it's called genes. Their was the occasional drag-of-guy who would attempt to cross me, but never tickled my fancy. Even today, with the amazing boyfriend that I have now, he still cant figure out why my self esteem is so low.
With a degree, a good family, great friends, great boyfriend, I still think back to my teenage years, exiting my adolesence and into this young, aspiring woman phase... and realize that I had a good time, but it was extremely difficult for me. Trying to fit in, find myself, figure out love, battling deaths, emotional disorders, self-mutilation, alcohol, drugs, sex. All of these barriers and battles I have encountered created this person who is typing right now.
So where do I go from here? Should I type out the experiences with men who I felt would take away the stomach aches caused by self-loathing and depression, but instead, they made me feel worse about myself? Or the times where I would lay face down in the bathroom, tears in my eyes with a razor blade in my hand, ready to feel that euphoric high from cutting that no one else could give to me? No. I already wrote about these experiences in my summer diaries and I can't bear to replenish those memories. I am here talking to you all because I want to share with the world that regardless your childhood, background, bad experiences, if you want to pick up, move on and be somebody, go do it. I really believe in myself when it come to reaching my dreams, and as I chuckle, I don't know why.
It's hard to sleep now at nights because I am so ready to move to the city, and begin the next chapter in my life. Waking up at noon everyday to roll over and see your childhood room at 22 isnt the exact life I pictured when I was a teen. I imagined hearing horns honking actually, outside the window. Pigeons flying by, walking up and down the busy street, even waiting for the subway. Being a country girl whose destiny is to be a succesful journalist in the big city isn't the typical career path, but it works for me.
I am patiently waiting on the phone call that tells me that I have the job.
It's killing me. Knowing that I have a meal ticket to get the hell out of dodge, and it might slip away from me. Everyone keeps telling me to keep faith in the Lord, and that if it is in God's will, that it will happen. Patience. (inhale-exhale) I have faith. I am just tired of being broke, laying up in my parents house, waiting on my next move. I can't stop thinking of getting off of work in the city on a Friday, coming home, showering, blogging, then walking to the downtown local cafe', small club, bar... where I could run into a journalist or someone that works at Harpo Productions, the local news stations, actresses, actors, radio personalities, musicians, and simply ask them:
"How does it feel?"
I end this posting today with this: keep the faith. Keep working hard. Keep praying. Never give up. Keep smiling.
My whole life, I have been the person who was the follower in a group of beautiful girls who I felt had it made. I have severe self conscious issues and I am my biggest critic. There were nights when I was a preteen where I would wear a towel around my head because I dreamed of having long hair. There were days at the dinner table where I stared in space, not touching my food, thinking about the perfect body image, wearing that white bikini and having men stare at me like I was a piece of meat. I yearned to be treated the way that women despise by men, because I was never paid attention to, whistled at, "holla'd at," even had a dude grab my arm in the club. My girls were so used to having this attention because they were beautiful, and I always heard them complain about how they hated it when boys did this and called too much and stared at you some kind of way. Secretly, when a guy did give me that lame line that every girl got, I finally felt pretty and wanted. I was in the society where I at least had something that attracted men to me. Was it my smile? My wit? Or the fact that I had developed huge boobs by the time I was 13? I will never know, but I loved feeling like I was pretty by the disgusting excuses that I called "cute boys" who didnt have a penny to there name and was seeking one thing...getting in between.
The worst feeling in the world for me was hanging out at social event with my friends (i.e. party, bar, high-school dance or even the hallway), and all of my peers are getting the attention that I felt I couldn't have. I wasn't a size 2, 3, 4, 5 or 6 in high school up through college like the rest of my girls, I was 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16. Everyday, I wake up and wonder how I am going to be reminded today that I am not the girl with the sexy, slender awesome body. Yes, I was a cheerleader and played softball, but it's called genes. Their was the occasional drag-of-guy who would attempt to cross me, but never tickled my fancy. Even today, with the amazing boyfriend that I have now, he still cant figure out why my self esteem is so low.
With a degree, a good family, great friends, great boyfriend, I still think back to my teenage years, exiting my adolesence and into this young, aspiring woman phase... and realize that I had a good time, but it was extremely difficult for me. Trying to fit in, find myself, figure out love, battling deaths, emotional disorders, self-mutilation, alcohol, drugs, sex. All of these barriers and battles I have encountered created this person who is typing right now.
So where do I go from here? Should I type out the experiences with men who I felt would take away the stomach aches caused by self-loathing and depression, but instead, they made me feel worse about myself? Or the times where I would lay face down in the bathroom, tears in my eyes with a razor blade in my hand, ready to feel that euphoric high from cutting that no one else could give to me? No. I already wrote about these experiences in my summer diaries and I can't bear to replenish those memories. I am here talking to you all because I want to share with the world that regardless your childhood, background, bad experiences, if you want to pick up, move on and be somebody, go do it. I really believe in myself when it come to reaching my dreams, and as I chuckle, I don't know why.
It's hard to sleep now at nights because I am so ready to move to the city, and begin the next chapter in my life. Waking up at noon everyday to roll over and see your childhood room at 22 isnt the exact life I pictured when I was a teen. I imagined hearing horns honking actually, outside the window. Pigeons flying by, walking up and down the busy street, even waiting for the subway. Being a country girl whose destiny is to be a succesful journalist in the big city isn't the typical career path, but it works for me.
I am patiently waiting on the phone call that tells me that I have the job.
It's killing me. Knowing that I have a meal ticket to get the hell out of dodge, and it might slip away from me. Everyone keeps telling me to keep faith in the Lord, and that if it is in God's will, that it will happen. Patience. (inhale-exhale) I have faith. I am just tired of being broke, laying up in my parents house, waiting on my next move. I can't stop thinking of getting off of work in the city on a Friday, coming home, showering, blogging, then walking to the downtown local cafe', small club, bar... where I could run into a journalist or someone that works at Harpo Productions, the local news stations, actresses, actors, radio personalities, musicians, and simply ask them:
"How does it feel?"
I end this posting today with this: keep the faith. Keep working hard. Keep praying. Never give up. Keep smiling.
Realization that this is it...
I am a southern girl finally with the oppritunity to turn my life into the business-oriented woman, seeking to live the life that no one ever seems to talk about in small towns. Its funny how I all of a sudden decide to create my own blog and see what goes from here. This story is real....this is about the turning point in my life where I decide to make a choice.
1. Leave behind a life of almost 22 years to an unknown land where its nothing but time moving by rapidly, sky scrapers, wide open-grass covered parks right next to the lake. Driving past Harpo Corporation, imagining what it would be like to help create the amazing and mind-blowing media/entertainment/hard news that seems to impact the world one story at a time. Working with fast-paced people....those who understand and live everyday assisting a beloved icon who places change in peoples lives for ever.
2.Lexington, Kentucky. Stay here and work. How can a young woman leave behind a group of girls who have been involved in God's creation of a strong, sometimes self conscious individual who isn't afraid to take a challenge? My girlfriends genuinely mean the world to me, and I am a work of a character, so anyone who is willing to put up with my attitude for more than five years definately has my friendship at heart. Although, Chicago in fact does have a pulling effect.
3. How could someone let go of a life that was influenced by the two people who have been my best friends since I could remember. I am talking about my the three star link, me, my mom and dad. Jimmy, Tina and Krista. Its always been us three. From battling, vacationing, to arguing, to crying, to laughing.....countless times where we've walked through Jacobson Park together. The nights where I would sneak back in the house at almost 5:30 in the morning when I was 16....they were there, waiting on me. Pissed. Dissapointed. Worried, confused at how 'there daugher' has the urge to find boys, beer and a party at any time of the night. But never gave up on me. Not once.
4. last, but certainly not least...my boyfriend. Have you ever heard of that love between two people that isn't soppy, isn't based off of what the next person is doing, they both are in this world driven to make it, no matter what struggles are thrown in their way? That's me & him. Unlike myself, which some would categorize as "privledged-" father pays there way through college by working 60 hours a week in a plant and mom is a substitute teacher; his background is completely different. He claims "he has a daddy, but not a father." Tens of Thousands of dollars in debt with full intentions on paying every penny back, is what keeping him in college, not daddy's money. But what makes me feel like he is here with me honestly and doesn't care, and not the fact that I face him and thrive for his personality, eyes and his bravery for not giving up on success, not giving up with school...its the love he has for me that persistantly reminds my conscious that even though he doesn't yap as much as I do, he can look me in my eyes, rub my neck and pull me close in bed, and tell me that if I achieve and dream, I can be that person I genuinely want to be, and that's another reason why I feel the city is where I need to be. Because he knows I need to be there, too. I cry sometimes because I dream of moving so bad, but what about him? How can I claim I am so in love yet so ready to up and go and leave the only person who knows me better than I know myself sometimes...who knows how stubborn and goal oriented people work...I need him. I need my friends. I need my mom & dad. 6 hours away seems extremely intimidating
1. Leave behind a life of almost 22 years to an unknown land where its nothing but time moving by rapidly, sky scrapers, wide open-grass covered parks right next to the lake. Driving past Harpo Corporation, imagining what it would be like to help create the amazing and mind-blowing media/entertainment/hard news that seems to impact the world one story at a time. Working with fast-paced people....those who understand and live everyday assisting a beloved icon who places change in peoples lives for ever.
2.Lexington, Kentucky. Stay here and work. How can a young woman leave behind a group of girls who have been involved in God's creation of a strong, sometimes self conscious individual who isn't afraid to take a challenge? My girlfriends genuinely mean the world to me, and I am a work of a character, so anyone who is willing to put up with my attitude for more than five years definately has my friendship at heart. Although, Chicago in fact does have a pulling effect.
3. How could someone let go of a life that was influenced by the two people who have been my best friends since I could remember. I am talking about my the three star link, me, my mom and dad. Jimmy, Tina and Krista. Its always been us three. From battling, vacationing, to arguing, to crying, to laughing.....countless times where we've walked through Jacobson Park together. The nights where I would sneak back in the house at almost 5:30 in the morning when I was 16....they were there, waiting on me. Pissed. Dissapointed. Worried, confused at how 'there daugher' has the urge to find boys, beer and a party at any time of the night. But never gave up on me. Not once.
4. last, but certainly not least...my boyfriend. Have you ever heard of that love between two people that isn't soppy, isn't based off of what the next person is doing, they both are in this world driven to make it, no matter what struggles are thrown in their way? That's me & him. Unlike myself, which some would categorize as "privledged-" father pays there way through college by working 60 hours a week in a plant and mom is a substitute teacher; his background is completely different. He claims "he has a daddy, but not a father." Tens of Thousands of dollars in debt with full intentions on paying every penny back, is what keeping him in college, not daddy's money. But what makes me feel like he is here with me honestly and doesn't care, and not the fact that I face him and thrive for his personality, eyes and his bravery for not giving up on success, not giving up with school...its the love he has for me that persistantly reminds my conscious that even though he doesn't yap as much as I do, he can look me in my eyes, rub my neck and pull me close in bed, and tell me that if I achieve and dream, I can be that person I genuinely want to be, and that's another reason why I feel the city is where I need to be. Because he knows I need to be there, too. I cry sometimes because I dream of moving so bad, but what about him? How can I claim I am so in love yet so ready to up and go and leave the only person who knows me better than I know myself sometimes...who knows how stubborn and goal oriented people work...I need him. I need my friends. I need my mom & dad. 6 hours away seems extremely intimidating
It's hard to just pick up and leave everything that you have known for one shot to see if your dreams can come true, if I follow the typical American Dream motto.
- Being a Sociology minor, I learned that if you want to live in Corporate America (and you're not born to a family that's rich, has "connections" or isn't gifted-and-talented where oppritunities are layed out infront of you) this society drives off of a "manifest destiny," where America appreciates hard work and belief in an American "mission" to promote and defend democracy throughout the world...this doesn't just continue to have an influence on American political ideology, but the work mind as well-take whats yours. "If you don't work hard for what you want in life, don't expect the world to feel sorry for you," type of thing.
No section 8, no government assistance. A low-income person has no other choice sometimes than to reach out for unemployment checks, its a ticking time bomb, constantly reminding them that they need "us" (the governement) in order to survive everyday. Holding individuals back mentally, from opening those doors that seem blissful and only on TV. Watching family and friends struggle through this hell hole drives me so much more to prove that a young, inspired Black woman from the most republican state in America, isn't just some lazy girl, whose goals pertain to having babies, finding a man to take care of me and my babies and work at the local stores or even get that 'good clerical' job. So, I am investing in starting from the bottom, up...seeking a steady career path in downtown Chicago, honestly, because I have always wanted to live an adventure. I have gazed into the stars in the wide, open sky on an autumn night my whole life, wondering what my life was destined to turn out to be, and I am finally here.I could stay here in Lexington, continuing to apply for local news jobs to report to our small communities about who died in a car crash or who killed who or what's going on in Clark or Hazard County. Trust me, I care about all the people who are involved in horiffic or repetitive news worthy incidences, but come on, there has to be something more to life than that.
So, I figured I would test my theory. Moving to a bigger market in media provides so much more character to life. More challenges to face. More people to get to know just so someone can open that door for you to create good and public news? To tell someone's story.
I just finished a job interview in Downtown Chicago, Illinois. The feeling that you get when you stand in front of the mediocre, tall building right next to the Subway, that's when you realize that those four years of college were really worth it. That moments like these make you want to try harder, even if you find out the job isn't what it seemed like, or you don't get that phone call back. But this job is different. I actually want to work hard and go in early and stay late, do whatever I can do to stay in Chicago and take up a hobby that might help me soar. How do I become apart of the social class that is proven to be worth working that 60-70 hour week. Oh, how I yearn for the fast paced work day that is devoted to help create a show/package/documentary that tells a story that inspires the viewer to say "damn..." or "yes, people like that do exist." Regardless what type of Entertainment/media it is....I want to be there, working-creating.
This is the part in my life where I get to decide where I will be. I am praying that the job I applied for is legit, and calls me back, impressed by my smile and charming ways.... and the way I come across comfortable yet here to work towards change and get things rolling on the ball like we are supposed to. I am terrified. I mentioned that I am eager to begin yet willing to work as many hours as needed to get the job done. Although it isn't where I dream to be, its a start. It has to do with my Broadcast Journalism major, and I can be myself.
Well, here I go. As much as I hate the crampedness of the studio apartment right around the corner from the job, I can't help but gasp at the downtown view and imagine working out on the elyptical while doing my laundry in the shabby basement...or going outside to the 14th floor open patio to stare at the skyline while typing my blog when I am off work. I am used to sitting on my back porch with honeysuckles all around the gate, drinking iced tea and waiting for daddy to get off work. Coming home to eat a cooked meal after class, especially being sick of the dorm or the apartment. Green grass that turns blue when the sun is in the right spot in an open field...clean air and local football and basketball games that are THAT important to put signs up in local buisness windows and get out washable paint pens to write on minivans and teenagers first car. Its hard to imagine leaving a life that you have been used to for so long, and hop over to somewhere else.
This is my prayer:
Dear Lord,
It is often said that sometimes people express feelings better through print than verbal words. I am asking that if I am blessed with this career that has been offered to me, I will work hard to benefit the environment around me and make a difference to impact the nation one person at a time. I know this is entry level, but this at least gives me more oppritunity to showcase to media corporations that I am talented. With this said, Lord Jesus I will seek a home church, which has been an ongoing battle in my life for years. I am ready, to live through this next chapter in my life, and go in head first. I want to work through your hands, Lord. Guide me on the direct path.
Amen.
If I get the job and move into this cramped apartment, let the globbing begin. (That's games + blogging combined) Today is July 11th, 2009. 4:36 am. I have until Tuesday to see if this job calls me back. In the mean time, its back to serving a Cheddars, just incase I need extra cash to prepare for a move to the city....tune in with me for this intimidating, yet adventurous ride.
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