I am on a roll today (i.e. all these blog stories today posted below):

So for some reason unknown to me, I have been on a blog roll, just typing my little heart away this week. Some of the entries reflect how I felt for the past week and so are in no particular order. Some of the entries seem to be of like a tale of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde on certain topics; that was because one day I was literally feeling like Dr. Jekyll and a couple days later back to my Mr. Hyde self. I have been leery about really telling all my friends about being starting a blog or actually putting the live link on said facebook page. I know that some of the stories I write in here, I write with an air of deliberateness, in which I disclose the gist of stories or people of question because for strangers out there that may come across this blog don’t really know what I am talking about but the people who really do know me would exactly know what I was talking about. I have already concerns of this, especially in a couple of blogs already I wrote during Valentine’s Day weekend and the revelation that some of my guy friends who reads this will more than likely figure out who I was talking about. I know it’s a risk to take and a real dicey gamble, but at this point in my life, I could really care less because I feel have to get certain things off my chest that is of personal interest to me because for too long, this recent shell of me (post freshman year) has not been as vocal as expressing the way I feel about people, about situations, about revelations for fear that I just don’t want to hear the drama or the rejection. I am so used to rejection and negativity (basis for my young life thus far) that it has molded me in some ways as a cynical, occasionally bitter and unhappy person at times. Now this is not to say that is who I am all the time, but it is partly who I am some of the time. And I feel that until I get into a new situation in my life and start a new chapter of my life (post school) will I feel the page somewhat turning. But until then, que sera, sera.

Me, J, and M

Who is J and M you may ask? I started college during the fall of 2003. The summer before I started my freshman year, my uncle who raised me had saved enough money to try to get me a car for college. I wanted a dodge neon or something small to get me from place to place but the dealer had pissed my uncle off so then we ended up at a Chrysler dealership and there I ended up with a Sebring (aka Seabiscuit). Now at first, I was not entirely too big of fan of the car, I thought it was a bit big for me and my needs and the car was an automatic. When I got my license, I used my uncle’s pickup truck with a crutch. And I loved driving that truck and just relishing driving a stick. I figured not too many people; especially females knew how to drive with a clutch. Anyways, so you know with car in hand, I started driving it. I don’t think I really appreciated the car too much early on because I was still relatively closed to home but yet stayed on campus. I really didn’t drive it much and when I did, it seemed I ended up taking my homegirls and hitting the clubs on every other weekends or something to that effect. It wasn’t until my uncle had died during the second semester of my freshman year and just going through turmoil that the car literally became all I had ( I know that is a weird concept to think about it is). My car was at my uncle’s house the day he died. So even if my uncle had called for help, I couldn’t get there to save him because I didn’t have a way back home just right away. So anyways, needless to say, after some wrangling with the car company, I managed to somehow to find a way to make the car payments to keep the car. And I tell you that were not always easy to do, and yet I chose to undertake this challenge and keep the car since my uncle really wanted me to have the car. So over time, my car became my moving house on wheels. I practically used my car to move around Houston a lot, go on long road trips to sometimes get away from Texas, to get to work at the jobs I was trying to work at to just scrape by and just all kinds of stories. My car and I ended up in car accidents, pulled over by cops, (I had a very high tendency to speed, a lot, and I mean a lot) and even to be broken into and wheel jacked. (so at this apartment complex that I had been staying at that was not necessarily the best apartment complex to stay at but the rent was cheap, the day I was leaving for a NSBE conference, my friend and I come out of the complex to get ready to pack my car to head towards the school when I came out and said calmly to my friend, I don’t think we are going anywhere today, and I pointed to my car, and someone (or some persons) stole all 4 tires and the factory rims (factory yall, nothing special at all, simply hubcaps) and left my car entirely on cement blocks. Needless to say that was not a good day for me at all nor did I had a good time at the NSBE conference when I finally got out there to it. But I certainly did not stay at that apartment complex very long afterwards, got out of the lease early without being penalized and have never looked back). At this point, me and car have been through so much, and during the summer when I was in Indiana doing this research project, I decided to name my car J upon my lone drive back to Texas. Simply J is the middle initial of my late uncle. Because I have felt that he has somehow this whole watched over me and my car. This will be the 6th year in July since I have had my car, and I hope to get another great 5 to 10 years out of it. I will be really sad when I am forced to have to actually go get another car or truck because it just won’t be the same. Last summer I was able to fully pay the car loan off and after some time and changing the title to my name, was able to get the official title to my seabiscuit showing that I was the rightful owner of it.
M:
Being raised my uncle and grandmother as I was growing up, we were really poor. We barely got by, only living month to month, always 1 bad event away from being in the shithole for a really really long time. So I never really had a home computer. One of my uncle’s brothers told me that I was really going to need a laptop when I started college. Of course we didn’t really have the money for some top of the line stuff so he managed to get me laptop from one of his friend’s who had an extra laptop and sold it to me for about $900 or so. This included getting all of the software, spyware, adware and a bunch other programs installed. Now I am no computer expert, but I presume that the lifespan of a laptop is not really long. But somehow my Dell latitude did not get the memo, because this is going on 6 of me owning this laptop. And at this point, it is really on its last leg. One of the hinges that closes the laptop has completely broken off from the rest of the computer, several keys are missing, the mouse doesn’t work too well, its super duper slower than molasses (it’s a Pentium 3 and I am guessing that is old), I had to buy a 7 port multi USB in order for me to hook up my USB stick, my printer, my wireless internet adapter and camera adapter too. Because the laptop bottom would get hot super easy, I bought this computer fan in which I would sit the laptop on to keep it from getting as hot. I had that fan until it finally wore out this past summer. It takes it about a good 20 minutes to turn on and get started and the CPU usage of it when I open the windows task manager is nearly at 100% all the time. I have to be patient and not open too many programs at once or click on too many things at once or the laptop will freeze. During my first semester of grad school, I was frustrated with my laptop because I couldn’t do my homework on it, so I had to learn how to bus or hoof it to the multiple computer labs here on campus so I could finish my homework. I would a lot of my late nights at the 24 hour undergraduate library using their computers just to get work done and take care of everything else. But despite all of this, and getting some helpful advice when I do get ready to buy my next laptop, I just couldn’t bring myself to buy one right away. I love M (or Methuselah) because its just as part of me as I am apart of it. And I truly do believe me that unless its broke and totally unsalvageable, that I am going to continue to use things until I have to get something new. Call me stubborn, extremely cheap or lazy, but I really appreciate the things that I have or had to fight to get or to keep because stuff that I have, it’s the first I have ever have or owned, and I know how to appreciate stuff. I never had money to just spend on questionable and wasteful things as other college kids I have met along the way have done (i.e. rims, jewelry, and expensive clothes). I truly believe in saving, paying off all debts, and only spending money on things you really do need (i.e. groceries, insurance, bills and so on). And even when I do start making money, (hey I am an engineer and after I decide I am finally through with school), I don’t think I am going to start spending lavishly just because I can. Right now in grad school, even with the limited funds and financial setbacks, I am only focusing on my credit card (and only credit card) completely off, and then to turn my focus onto paying off my student loans in the next 5 years (~$25000) so I can be completely debt free. And at the rate things are going in the global economy, I really want to be as debt free as possible.

Stubborn McGEE:

I am a very stubborn person, period. The heater could break down, my pen dries up, my computer goes out and the window in my office could break and let in wonderful rain and cold biting winds, but I tell you I wouldn’t leave until I finished a homework assignment. I used to think my stubbornness was really a measure of my never die and never quit attitude but I come to realize I was probably just being dumb back in my heyday. And the thing about it is, I rather do things the hard way and my way than change them up or try something different, or at least not right away. Oh well, when will I learn? Beats me but I learned a long time ago that things will never come easy for me, whether its school, life, finances, whatever. And I think this attitude that I have has let me enjoy knowing that I have to work for every single thing that I want for my life and not altering the path that I am trying to use to get there. I had a good talk last night with a good of friend of mine’s as I was telling him how I really felt about being in grad school where I am right now. Its been no secret with good friends of mine’s that I have for the most part very unhappy here since school started. Now I guess most people would quit or give up but see, I just plain refused to, no matter how much I complain, how bitter I become, how angry I can get or how frustrated I can become, its just not in my blood, not in my soul and not in my psyche. Of course depending on what I want to do with my life, I might have to go back to the drawing board but hey, the lofty goals I set for myself got to get achieved somehow. And it means that after I get my first master’s, I have to goto an entirely different school, retake some of the classes I have taken here to get a 2nd master’s in what I really want to do, then so be it. I have not come all the way, this far, to be deterred and not encouraged to go after the dreams I want. So see, I suppose me being a stubborn McGee really can come in handy. Especially to help me to get through the rest of my time here.c

The Clumsy Monster

So for some apparent reason, ever since I have been a little girl, I always, always, always at least once a day, manage to spill something on my shirt, sweatshirt, dress, blouse or something similar. I have even found ways to have food, drink, oil spills land on my pants, shoes and socks (don’t even ask how on the socks). I used to think I was just sloppy because that was my uncle was said I was being. But after a while I grew up, but the mishaps of spills upon my clothing did not go away. So it got me thinking, perhaps, just perhaps I am very clumsy. Me being clumsy-is a very shocking revelation for me, why? I always tried to do everything I cannot be clumsy, but do I succeed, usually only about 75% of the time. Every once in a while, I have my moments where I cannot grip a drinking cup correctly, carry only one thing in my hand, hold books whatsoever, drop my eating forks every single time and so and so forth.
And somehow clumsiness seems to follow me. For instance, this past Friday I was at Krogers looking for harcissa paste for this dish I was preparing and I ended up on the aisle with the spaghetti sauces pre-made and this woman next to me picks up like a couple of big jars of Ragu sauce. Then she proceeds to head down the aisle towards the checkout area of the store. Cool right? I turn back to looking at the items and not even 10 seconds later; I hear this loud crash of glass just shattering all over the place. I look back left, the woman has this utter look of disbelief on her face, I was thinking awww, until I looked down at my shoes and realized there was spaghetti sauce all over my left shoe. Its almost as if my shoe was shot with a bullet. Jeesh. She did apologize profusely and I was like that’s ok, don’t worry about it, but dang, even my shoes couldn’t run for cover.
So I figure the only way for me to avoid such things is to have a talk with myself everyday to control this undesirable condition, to wake up every morning and pray that I don’t waste anything, and finally start wearing fashionable bibs or somehow embroider these bibs into my shirts to create a whole new fashion statement and yet not feel guilty about the state of them by the end of the day. Woo-hoo.

That Day of Pure Frustration

Today, I was into day 4 of trying to finish this homework assignment that was actually due yesterday. But as I have been working on it since Sunday, I have felt so frustrated because it’s like homework in one of the few subjects I could care less about-economics. Now I know that is a wrong attitude, since particularly everything as a way of living as we understand it is in part due to economics. I am lost as to why economics has never caught to me like other subjects I enjoy (math, history, geography, political science, engineering, chemistry). But it’s more than just that, I feel like I am not getting the most currently from my graduate education. Now whether its I feel burned out, or feel there is no direction in terms of my research, or just feeling out of place in the first place, I feel like my time can be better doing something else. I dread when I wake up in the morning and knowing that I either have to go to the lab today or go to classes. I feel the classes I have enrolled leave me feeling a bit lackluster, I feel I am just being stringed along with my research group and I feel as if I have nothing to contribute here. I am constantly questioning my aptitude because of the degree of difficulty and lack of progress I make in some of my classes. For the first time in my life, I feel lost and directionless being here. I thought graduate school was supposed to make you feel more scholarly and worldly. I feel as if I am regressing in the skills I possess and the brain cells to enlarge my think capacity. Oh it makes me feel so depressed day in and day out, like why I am torturing myself? The only thing that keeps me company around here is listening to old school music (at the moment it’s Earth, Wind, and Fire). And even though I have reached out to people(students, staff, faculty), I still feel so isolated and alone, which is crazy because I am used to living in solitude at this point, but to be surrounded by all kinds of people at an institution such as this, just doesn’t make sense to me. And to think I have another of year this to put up with. I wish something would happen, some kind of epiphany that will just turn around how I feel, how I learn, how I do research, and just change the plain way how I feel day in and day out.

The Steroids Era, aka MLB

So to channel my ultimate procrastination tendencies as I listen to Jill Scott, I figured to change up the tone of my recent posts (i.e. about woe is me) to woe of everything else. To get things started, my friends who know me really well know that baseball is my favorite sport to watch, whether on tv or at the baseball stadium itself. I know its a rare thing to meet a black girl who loves baseball as passionately but tis me. Regardless, I believe I must have started watching baseball when I was 2 years old because I remember (for some strange reason) being held my uncle while we watched baseball (and other sports too, but alot of baseball, especially during the hot summers in Houston). Thanks to my late uncle, I think I must know and love a great deal of the aspects of baseball, the good and bad sides of it. The newest bad side baseball to be paraded these past couple of years is the rampant use of steriods and human-performance drugs taken by a quite a bit of the players. Of course, using steroids is a form of cheating. NO IFS AND BUTS ABOUT IT! But I think what trips me out the most is the same people who are crying foul and boo-hooing about the use by players for at least the past 15 years were the same ones who were jumping for joy and praising the likes of Mark McGuire and Sammy Sosa literally reviving America's favorite past time during the late 90's (i.e. mainly sportswriters and sport announcers). This was mainly because after the major baseball strike of 1994 (in which the majority of the season was lost and when the Montreal Expos used to be good, hahaha pulled that one out from you know what...) many experts believed that baseball being America's pastime was gone and lost forever. Alot of fans were turned off because of the impasse between the player's union and the owners and people just did not come to watching and going to baseball games. Attendance at the ball parks had been sharp declines after the season picked back up and people were wondering just how viable baseball would remain as the 21st century approached. Then came that summer in which the great homerun chase was back and forward between the two aformentioned sluggers who were competing to see who would break Roger Maris 1961 single season homerun mark when he was with the Yanks. I remembered when they did a story about Maris about how people threatened him because he was approaching and destine to break the "Babe" record. But I digress. Needless to say, alot of people were excited, fans were returning to the ballparks to see who would break the record and once the record was broken, people kept coming to see how far they could go. I don't recall during that glee anyone questioning with a loud bullhorn if those 2 were on anything. All you heard was constant praises, cheers,and non-ending highlights. Fast forward several years later,and a Mitchell Report,Congressional testimonies, Canseco versions of confessions and pointing fingers down the line, now everyone is upset and questions the integrity of the game. The ones I hear harped the most about the records this and records that is sportswriters. Its pretty funny and a bit hypocritical that so many people want to take the high and moral ground and act as if this was the first time this happened, how could have this happened and how could have this been advocated for so long? Haha, people can be so funny sometimes, especially when they seem to lack common sense.
But needless to say, its been going on awhile, even I could pick up on that last decade and I was not even a full fledged teenager yet. Until all professional sports get really serious about cleaning up their respective leagues (oh you don't just think steroids and HGH is only used in the MLB do you?) by running drug tests as thorough and dish out punishment just as severe(i.e. the IOCC), the problem won't be resolved. But then again its not like this is policy is going to be adapted and instituted just and swiftly. Why you may ask? Because look at all the entities who stand to lose (and I mean $$$$$$) if forced to clean up their respective leagues, and I just don't mean the players either. There alot of people who would not take too keenly to losing money. It just doesn't make $cents to them. And that just means that I would have to continue to listen to media and sports pundits discuss oh the records now the records oh the records and Cooperstown. Aaargh. Well things could be worse, we could be in a recession, 2 wars, possess tremendous amount of national debt, nations hell bent on nuclear weapons and nuclear materials...oh wait...

This is How I feel Day in And day Out

So I am taking a brief respite in order to put down these thoughts that have been constantly racing through my mind today: I am so unhappy where I am right now. At first, when I was struggling in my classes, I thought it had something to do with me just not having the background necessary for the classes I just happened to throw myself in. but then I would go into my research office expecting something that hasn’t quite transpired yet. And then I realize I feel like a ghost at this campus because of my age, too young for most of the constituents in graduate school or too old for the most part for the overall constituency at this campus in general (you know you getting old when kids born in 1990 are now invading college campuses where you attend school at, uh-oh). Needless to say, I feel lost being here, and let me tell you the last time I felt lost and drifting-the day my uncle died. When he died, I felt my whole word stopped moving and begin to move like a fly stuck in molasses. I really believe it took me a year of grieving and a transfer of schools to get back on track. But now I ponder that the energy and enthusiasm for all things scholarly have permanently (or least semi-permanently) taking a back seat. I feel a lot lately that I spent so much time trying to prove to myself (and on a lesser scale to cats who did not think I could do engineering) that I can do engineering, that I am just as capable and bright as the next privileged fellow. I spent countless hours of studying, sacrificed really getting involved in clubs and organizations and literally put myself out in the middle of a cow pasture in order to succeed. I cut ties to family members whether they did or did not have my best interests at heart and pretty much stopped talking to classmates I was relatively cool with and/or close with from high school because I felt they could not relate to the pain I was in every single day my freshman year. And putting all that energy in has awarded me a bachelor’s degree in mechanical engineering, the opportunity to obtain a full ride in environmental engineering in graduate school and the chance to get out of Texas. Sadly, after my uncle and grandmother died (and heck even my mother who played about a 0.000001% role in my upbringing) I felt that there was nothing left for me in Texas. My dream, whether naive knowing my uncle and grandmother delicate health situation since I was a kid was to go to school, graduate, get a great job, make lots of money to take care of them so they wouldn’t have to depend on Social Security and disability checks to get by only month to month and basically take them to Hawaii to spend their relaxing days (especially my uncle who was stationed in Hawaii when he was a marine during Vietnam). But now its 2009, and I feel drained. It’s a struggle every single day for me to wake up, get out of bed, and be productive and sustain in this college town. I have a hard time focusing on studying, and there are even days where I don’t just want to read anything academically related. And that is a scary thought for me because I love to read, read, read. But now its not even fun for me anymore to read academic journals, textbooks, scientific articles or notes; and its like what the hell, this is only my second semester of grad school in a master’s program. And I am thinking to myself, well hell if you feel like this now, why are you still hell bent obtaining a PhD? I hesitated to tell any of my close friends about how I really feel day in and day out because I am pretty sure they would tell me I am being a whiner and I need to suck it up and stop complaining cause I got a full ride to graduate school. And I understand that perfectly clear, but it’s something about this place that just sucks the life out of you. I wish I could pin point what it is but I can’t.
(Classic and current example of how I feel: I have been trying to reread this same paper that summarizes about interpretation of recorded data related to climate change, and this is day 4 of me trying to get through this paper. The content of the paper is not difficult to comprehend, it’s just my mind is doing a hell of a job of blocking the sensors in my brain from absorbing and storing the information that is necessary for this one particular class. Now take that and multiply that by 4 and that is how I feel in all my classes and research. It just makes me want to turn on the faucets in my eyes everyday because I feel inferior day in and day out and a failure because I am not getting the material. Oh well, I guess its back to attempt number 5 of reading this paper. Hopefully I can finally catch up in reading for this class by tomorrow’s lecture, even though I seriously doubt it. I will prolly have to seek refuge in the rec center in a couple of hours from now, at least I won’t be tempted to continue to overeat or consume any vodka tonight.)

Valentine’s Day-the 09 story (part 3)

So someone asked me not too long ago, did I have someone special in my life. I told them, you know it’s the same ole same ole. At times, my heart feels empty; I do think from time to time that I be incapable of loving a man. I used to believe in the fairy tale stories of living happily ever after and the romance stories on the level of Casablanca (wait, Casablanca is not exactly the world’s greatest happily ever after story either, crap!). But the main reason for all these all over the place synopsis of my dating life was to explain why I don’t think I am going to find the right kind of man. When I take a look at myself, I guess you can say I have a pretty good package-brains, sense of humor, witty, personality, that independent streak, great smile, decent teeth (as straight they could be growing up poor and notorious for crashing into stuff and breaking teeth), the spunk, the determination, the pure drive, the somewhat sexy fashion sense I can exude when put into the right clothes and my scorpion tendencies (yo yo yo it pays to be a Scorpio let me tell you). So I meet or come across or talk to quite a few guys, and my perception has been either all the goods I have met are all taken, or they still in the mindset that the girl they have to get has to be the type one views on various media mediums. Despite all those adjectives I just described of myself, one thing that is unique to me is that I am a size 18. I have been told numerous times that when people looked up at me they didn’t think I was that size. You would be amazed what clothes don’t fit you when your chest size is in the F range and you have a big butt. And ladies and gents, that is what I based my generalization on. I really think that if I looked like some of my homegirls, my phone would not stop blowing up. But its cool because I have always struggled with my weight. I realized a little too late the errors of my ways of lifting weights like crazy in high school and then letting my half laziness slip in and not staying in shape. But in 2009, I have made my valiant return to the gym-not because I want to get a man, but because I want to finally get heart healthy again and get in good physical conditioning. I know that I am never going to be a size 10, but its cool because I rather have a healthy heart, very normal blood pressure and low cholesterol than anything else. I realized that I am definitely not getting any younger and given the health problems in the half of the family tree I actually know about, I do not want to start taking pills to control things prematurely (especially since I detest to the exponential raised to the infinite power swallowing pills). So if it happens that I manage to get my body toned, then so be it in 09, I think that would be way more successful than trying to find love on dating services and the likes.
And p.s. how I am spending valentine’s day you ask? Well hitting the library in the morning, buying small amount of groceries and cleaning supplies, getting the eyebrows done up, catching a free movie at the student union hopefully, contemplate how ridiculous my workload is going to be next week, work out for damn near 3 hours, if motivated, spit a letter or two to form this complex of words to post in my next blog. That’s the life I live now (life’s a real “joy” being a graduate student) and trying to “fix” my DVD player. After 5 years, it wants to start acting up on your girl. Grrrrrrrr…

Valentine’s Day-the 09 story (part 2)

I think part of the reason why I have learned to become strong and to get used to being independent when it comes to romancing and palling around with the opposite sex is my track record of rejection. Oh yes, I have lost count, but I suspect from about 1st grade to now, I must have been rejected by like at least 15 guys (and I believe this number is pretty darn conservative too). Not being schooled to reading signs and spitting game, my approach to dudes (up until the first couple of years of college give or take) was after getting to know the guy, and if I decided I like him, I would eventually tell him that I liked him, straight up with no strings pulled or attached. After I told the guy how I felt about him, the usual responses I would get would be a: physical facial feature of disgust; b: silence; c: utter and shockingly surprise. Believe me, I know how to catch people off guard. So after senior year of high school (and literally the day of graduation) I decided that my frank approach was not of wise making. So I decided to never tell a guy I liked him unless he asked me first. So this one guy I liked my freshmen year for some reason seemed to be afraid of me (sure I would check him out often in the couple of classes we were in I tell ya) and I think my homegirls told him for me that I liked him, needless to say for the rest of the year he avoided me like I had the bubonic plague (kinda hilarious when I think about it). This other cat I liked a lot in college after home dude was at my undergrad. I never told him but he claimed that he always knew that I liked him. I guess you can say we have had an up and down friendship. (that’s another blog for another day, damn). And then my final major guy I am actually still really close to this day. When he proceeded to reject me, I expected him to the following facial expressions as I mentioned previously but he didn’t. he just said that he cared for me as a friend and only that, and that he wanted to continue to be my friend. I was shocked; I figured there must have been catch. But needless to say, there wasn’t, even though it took me a long time to get over him and just have feelings for him as a friend. Whenever I would spend time with him, I felt tortured at times because we would do all this stuff together as if we were a couple but we weren’t. but over time, I got over him and I am glad for it because he has been there for all the up and downs I have had since I have been in college (and believe me I had a lot of terrible downs and eventual and hopeful ups) and I don’t think without him being there for me, I may not have gotten to where I am at today. At this point, I feel that if I had to just settle for a guy, I would have to settle for him just because he is the only man who really knows how I think how I tick what makes me happy, what pisses me off and can actually put with me. Go figure.

Valentine’s Day-the 09 story (part 1)

So its technically early Saturday morning out here on the east coast, and I am sipping on my favorite alcoholic drink (cranberry juice and vodka), listening to the The Brothers Johnson and Strawberry Letter 23 (they don’t make music like this anymore, sadly). And of course today is Valentine’s Day; with my given track record when it comes to relationships, its easy to see why I think Valentine’s Day is just plain evil. But enough of that, I came to the realization when I went home for Christmas break that I have no game whatsoever, which I guess is somewhat normal for a female not to have a game whatsoever. But it got me thinking why have been so habitually single? Now don’t get me wrong, for the most part, (I say 85% of the time) I enjoy the freedom I have to roam wherever I like, whenever I like and however I like. There is never any need for me to commit to another human being, (i.e. a Man) because I have gotten so use to be single. But there are times where I have these thoughts that creep up slowly behind me and question my extended single status. To get all technical and stuff, I have never had a real boyfriend. Never have been in a real relationship nor engage in all the warm cuddly relationship type stuff. Perhaps my philosophy when it comes to the opposite sex is different than most: I rather become good friends with a guy, he gets to know me and all my quirks and eccentrics and I get to know him for who he really is (which I found most guys don’t do for some reason). This is one of the reasons why I have so many guy friends in the most place. I grew up as a tomboy, never had a motherly type figure in my life for the longest, so I didn’t get the memo of how to talk to boys, that you was suppose to start shaving your legs at a certain point, and that wearing flannel shirts just wasn’t fashionable. But needless to say, I grew up being me and me only.
Where am I going with this? Hell if I know. But I do know that I used to get rejected all the time from guys. After awhile I began to think there was something was wrong with me. I was never skinny, I wore glasses, I am pretty much a nerd, I had 0 fashion sense and everything else. Then sophomore year, this guy had to put in some real serious work before I agreed to be his girlfriend. Only reason I agreed because he was the first guy in high school to ever show me any kind of attention. But we were only an “item” for a week. I guess when you worked that hard to get the girl she’s just another conquest. And since then, no guy has showed me that kind of attention or to ever make me feel special. So for the longest, I would wear this brave face (or mask) that never let on how much I wanted to get in on the trials and tribulations of romance, first love and teenage-dum. And after awhile, I began to learn how to accept that perhaps there was no such thing as love at first sight and finding a guy who likes me for me. And now that I am approaching 25 this year, I feel now that yeah I wish I had a boyfriend, or even a boy toy from time to time, that I should really begin to accept that it wasn’t meant for me to fall or to ever be in love. Oh well. I guess I just need to focus on making the world a better place somehow.

What Ever Happen to Reporting the news as news?

So I have been on boycott this past week from watching any news or sportscenter. Why or how did this start? Well last Saturday I was working out at the rec center early in the evening at my school. And these rec centers are the types that are decked out with all the latest and newest fitness equipment (cardio, weights, bikes you name it) plus tvs with satellite cable throughout the fitness room. After I got through huffing and puffing on the treadmill on the hills mode (hills ain’t no joke), I saw the breaking news on ESPN moving ticker. A-roid had admitted to using steroids from 2001-2003 when he was playing for the Texas Rangers. ( I will save the baseroids story for another day, since baseball is my favorite sport). And so looking at the ticker (I mean how else am I suppose to know college basketball scores?) it kept repeating nonstick on A-roid. Like that was all I could see. When they went to commercials on the basketball game I had been watching, their top story/breaking news was on him. It was like, gosh jolly so another one was dirty ok move on. But the sports ticker wouldn’t get off, so I got annoyed. Ok here comes Sunday morning. Now I am a self-admitted political junkie. You can ask my close friends what I whether be doing on a Friday night instead of hitting the club. So anyways, I first watch This Week on ABC, then if I can catch it, sometimes Meet the Press. With This Week, they had talked about the “stimulus” bill in the Senate, and in between that, George Stephanolous (I know, misspelled terribly) had interview Michael Steele, and some of the answers that Mr. Steele was providing left my head scratching and a bit less intelligent, but I digress. Next, I tuned the TV to CNN and after watching the news for not even 30 minutes, I was terribly disgusted with the stories being reported, or how terrible the stories seemed to be reported. Later on after that and before I started studying, I read some online newspaper (i.e. Houston Chronicle, New York Times, Washington Post, Chicago Tribune) and the headlines, the stories and the bloggers responses to the stories just made my internal thermometer bubble even more. After this, I declared to myself, I am on strike from the news. It’s the same stories over and over and over and then you listen to the headlines, all negative all negative all the freaking time. And if you watch something repeatedly negative, you begin to become negative or more cynical than usual. And that is what happened to me. And the straw that broke the camel’s back: the breaking news about the whole Chris Brown and Rihanna situation (another blog for another day). So I turned the tv off, stepped away and shut down all news and political websites, and just started doing other stuff. And as the week went by, I realized, hey this is not so bad, not watching the news all the time. Plus with me not watching the news for one week, I am still informed than probably over 90% of Americans anyways.
But I digress, I realized for a very long time (since I was in middle school) that sensation only sells, and be damn the truth. I remember how I wanted to be a journalist for a minute because of my passion and devotion to writing and expressing one’s thoughts. I also thought that being a journalist was an excellent endeavor because of the research, the background information and verification of all sources before you ran with a story. But nowadays, newspapers seem to get their news from entertainment, politically leaning and biased sources and gossip newspapers. And it’s a shame because the artistry that went with journalism in the American medium seems to be all but dead in the 21st century. All news channels seem to be just the plain devil because of the continuous loop of reporting the same stories over and over, and more and more interjections of personal and political opinions instead of just sticking to the facts.
So what is a girl to do once her moratorium ceases to exist on Sunday? I don’t know but heaven help me. It’s getting hard to find any facts and details anymore in a story.

Whispers in the abyss

So I have these whispers of doubts within myself internally and I know I shouldn’t have but I just do. Its in regards to how since I have been in graduate school, I haven’t really passed any tests, quizzes or major assignments with A’s and B’s. It has been mostly on the lines of C’s, D’s, and F’s, and its just so deflating because it makes me feel so deflated, like I don’t belong here or that there is something wrong with me. It’s almost like being back at the first college I went to my first two years of college. I did fine my first semester, and then I had these tragic family incidences that warped and turn my world upside down and I begin down this slippery slope of failing and struggling in a lot of my engineering classes until I finally decided to transfer to another school (where I ultimately got my bachelor’s degree). It’s like déjà vu, except this time around, I don’t really have any tragic incidences that is preventing me from being successful where I am at. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but it makes me doubt my intelligence, my desire to learn, my spirit to be curious. I feel as if there is something about this school that is stifling me. I don’t know what it is, but I wish I knew so I could face it head on and take it out. But until then, I guess I will continue to be disappointed at the grades I earned while in graduate school and continue on this trail of wondering what is internally wrong with me. Its very frustrating because of how I feel being a minority in a program taking classes that had nothing to do with what I did as an undergrad and spending ridiculous amounts of time playing catch-up in classes by going back and researching and surfing and reading up to 4 or 5 subjects at a time per class I take (I average 3 classes a semester thus far) plus seeking a lot of help (especially in one of these classes I took last semester almost every other day with the professor). And I feel the said pattern is on assignments and take-home tests I put my blood, sweat, and tears to I fail worse than on said assignments in which I did not try or just did not care about. Its almost as if by me coming into the program I have came in, I am just simply setting myself up for failure. Now don’t get me wrong, I won't stop nor do I mind doing what I am doing in terms of researching and studying extra materials for classes but its like wow for me. I am also concern that it seems that I was successful at the school I transferred to which is an HBCU, and yet the first school I went to the engineering program was majority institution and now the school I am attending for graduate school is also majority institution. Does this mean that perhaps I am not cut out for these types of schools? That certainly can’t be a fact or a terrible notion to even entertain. So then why I am struggling so much academically, (and heck spiritually, socially, physically, and emotionally) at this school I am at now?Is it the school or is it me?

My actual first blog but I put it elsewhere

As with trying anything that is not in my comfort areas and being influenced by the numerous blogs that I have randomly came across either through by accident or by some kind of divine intervention, I, yours truly, Miss Good Morning here has decided to endeavor into the blogging world. Now this will be trying for me at times because I like to consider myself a bit reserved (not shy, there's a difference) and a bit of a listener/observer than a talker (hey you would be surprised the kind of things people will say when you let them shoot from the hip). And besides, I need a way to vent and say what's on mind on a bunch of stuff whether personal or impersonal to me. Plus I felt at times that I forgot how much I love writing as a form of expression thanks to my decision to go to college for engineering. All technical tends to zap what creative artsy stuff you used to enjoy doing, believe me, I have found that out the hard way. So here goes, it does not matter whether you agree with the viewpoints expressed here, if you don't like what is said, then oh well, I mean there are plenty of other blogs to go read. Well go figure...And at this point and time, there is no point in me getting into the first point considering my eyelids are slowly decreasing as I type this...till next time...

This Whole studying thing

So as another weekend comes and goes, i find myself not studying as usual, which normally wouldn't be any reason to ring the alarms, but i just happen to be in graduate school. I managed to survive my first semester last semester and I thought I was going to stress myself right out. So this semester I DECIDED to do things my way, which is the only way that keep same in the membrane. This includes working out ridiculously at set times during the day. I felt as if I had no energy whatsoever to get through the day. I felt like blah every day I had to wake up and goto classes or go into the lab or anything of that nature. So I had to get through my stubborn mind that I can't be any good if I am always feeling drained and depressed and desolate. Next step, get out more, even if it means I have to goto events/places/locales by myself-especially if those locales were meant to be done with friends. I am going to try to smile more and come off more approachable, I have been told that the impression people have of me when they first meet me is one of being a diabolical "insert expression for female dog". Now I find this quite laughable because I am the opposite of what people's first impressions are of me. What can I say? I guess it means that people prescribe to reading the picture illustrated on the front of the book instead of trying to read the words on the front cover of the book, let alone whats contained inside the book.

I guess the point of all that before the slightest of divergence was that overall I learned during my first semester of graduate school I went about everything the wrong way. Instead of trying to adapt to people that are not like, I should have been doing everything I can to get people to adapt to me. I am not like most people, I knew this since I was about 4 years old. So I will study more this semester, but much more effectively and at much of a satisfied position than before. I will be more social than I was before, even it means I have to hang with undergraduates at the school I goto and with different people at different schools within a 50 mile radius (there is a lot of colleges and universities in the area, let alone in this state). Hey I know I am unique and I have my quirks and whims that does not prescribe to anything mainstream, and I will not waste my time around people or entities who only see people in a box.

The Very First of the Randomness Rumblings of a Rowdy Roo...

ok i don't know what is up with the alliteration just now, but i figured i had some r's that i needed to play with...so this is my first blog/entry/confession/opening myself and business to online larkers...ok well enough of all that...so at first i was going to make my blog related to relationships and experiences on that road, but then i realized that i have so much to offer than that... i have so many words and at times i think not of enough time or space to ink them, whether with a pen or the keystroke...ok so i didn't realize how much of virgin i was when it came to sprucing up your blog page but i am...damn...so its about 1am my time right now, and i am just hoping that this mixture of grape juice and vodka in my system will run its course. i of all people should realize that texting/typing/writing while semi-inebriated is a baaaaaaaaaaaaaaddd idea

so tonight's escapade brought me to texting this guy that i had been interesting for a minute. i like to think we are pretty cool, well i finally worked up the nerve to ask him about his past gf and stuff like that and he was pretty responsive, then he caught me from left field by asking why was so interested to know this stuff about him? now i wasn't sure he was asking cause he really wanted to know and he was being sincere, if he wanted some type of confirmation of some suspicion that i may have liked him or what but needless to say still waiting on that response...go figure...
and thats usually the way it goes when it comes to me and the opposite sex...get to know him, he gets to know me, we become cool, for some reason i start developing feelings for him, try to slyly and subtly work my way in only to be shot down like the tale in mythology of flying to close to sun with the makeshift feathers to hold you together...or something to that affect...hell i think the alcohol is wearing off, time to replenish...