Happy New Year!

I recently turned the ripe young age of 37.

For you obnoxious youngens who have issues with growing older, that is STILL considered young. Your age does not factor into how old you feel, behave or think. In fact, most people would say I have the mindset and sense of humor of a teenage boy lol! I cannot help my mind stays in the gutta 24/7/365 (or in this year’s case 366).

And while I do not have issues with my age as a number, I do indeed have issues with the impending dreaded number that is now three years in front of me.

It never fails. Every New Year since the age of 35, I have had these cry myself to sleep moments where I question my every existence. I wonder if and when I’ll finally get off my lazy ass and do something more than what I am doing currently.

I wonder if I’ll have that house with the dream kitchen I’ve been pinning so furiously about.

I wonder if my daughter will seek me out.

I wonder if I’ll have another child or two. twins or triplets would be great God so i only have to be pregnant once.. thaaaaaanks.

I wonder if I’ll land that dream job I’ve always dreamed of and/or talked about. Sports Illustrated I’m talking to you!

So much pondering yet little to no action behind my endless day dreaming.

This New Year I am not making any resolutions as I don’t usually make good on them in the first place. This year I think I’m just going to take each and every day one at a time. I don’t want to plan my life out anymore. Partly because I continuously set myself up for failure and disappointment. Partly because I don’t know what I want to do with my life anymore.

All I DO know is that life is too short and I feel that my life is wasting away by doing nothing with it. I know how utterly depressing of me to say but I’m in that kind of mood right now.

Anyway… thank you again for following me on this journey called life. I promise to one day get better at this blogging thing!

 

Thanks for reading…

 

the southern yankee

 

Conversations with My Brother: Part Deaux

My brother is probably the most stubborn bullheaded person I know which somewhat says a lot cuz I’m an overly stubborn person.

But sometimes he can be so completely asinine with his stubbornness. I call it the Cartman Complex. Certainly you guys have watched South Park before right? The little fatty who’s so completely rude, self-centered and diabolical to everyone. The one who screams “respect my authoritah.” Is it ringing a bell now? No? Let’s look at exhibit A.

Now?! Thought so.

I love my brother dearly but my brother often tries to make his daughters do and be what he would like them to be. The youngest will be graduating from high school next year. She, my brother and I were on the phone about two weeks ago and she explained to my brother than she’d like to go to a HBCU. I’m thinking oh heeeeey that’s great. She even said she was thinking about being a lawyer which again made me oh so proud. I’d be proud anyway but that is beside the point.

Here I was trying to be supportive and offer advice and whatnot buuuuuuuuut my brother wasn’t having any of that. He even went as far to say that she wasn’t going out-of-state for school. Sigh here we go.

I say let her decide where she wants to go. But my brother doesn’t want the girls to be too far from him which I understand but he’s being unreasonable. Lemme explain.

When I say he is dead set against youngest going anywhere outside of California, I mean he was pitching a damn fit. Every time she mentioned a school outside of Cali he made sure to say no you not going to that school. But why I’d ask. What’s wrong with any of the schools she’d mention? His only answer was they not in California.

The fuck?! That’s not a reasonable excuse. But it was the only one he needed to know and hear. I know I’m not the one paying for her education but I seriously dislike the fact my brother is being such a royal pain about it. It isn’t fair to make your kid live the life you did or wanted to live. The girls don’t have all the same interests as my brother obviously but at the same time I ish he was more open to hear what they have to say about how they live their lives.

Again I’m not paying for their education nor do I have children or understand what go s into raising a child much alone two very head strong young ladies who’d I’m sure would give me a run fa all my little scruples. Nonetheless I do hope my brother comes around a bit and will be open to listening to my niece instead of exercising his Cartman Complex.
Thanks for reading…

the southern yankee 

Know Thyself Challenge: Day 3

Day 3: What’s the BEST writing advice you ever received?
——–
Considering my writer’s mind works in a multidimensional complex and on two separate writing planes, it’s really sorta difficult to determine which piece of writing advice is the absolute BEST.

On one hand, my first love as a writer was journalism. The short, sweet and to the fucking point of the average newspaper sentence or paragraph plays into my laziness. The ability to tell a story in as few words as possible has never been a special talent of mine but I have found it quite helpful when writing emails at my job.

On the other hand, the perpetual English student in me enjoys utilizing every inch of my active almost child like imagination. The fact that I can use words to manipulate thought, trigger various emotions and transport readers to other worlds or at least further into mine is a challenge I’m determined to master.

But with all of this said, I’m still at the fucking beginning with trying to answer what is the BEST advice I’ve ever received. The truth of the matter, the majority of the writing advice I’ve “received” in my life time has come from quotes from writers I’ve found on Pinterest. Don’t look at me like that. I speak truth mayne.

One such quote is:

Write drunk; edit sober ~Ernest Hemingway

I’d all over that if I could afford the amount of boozes needed just to write everyday. What? I drank like a damn fish!

Another is:

There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you. ~Maya Angelou

I’m a shy and most times quiet person but I have more than enough to say. I let my emotions fuel my writing because I do t know how to control them without first writing them down. My head tends to feel heavy and clouded not because I’m stressed or applied too much hair product although that has indeed crossed my mind before but because I think too fucking much. I have so many memories that pop in my head at the most inconvenient times of the day. I am constantly working up plan A B C D E F G and H because I always have a backup for my backups.

I take risks with my writing to see what kind of reaction I might receive.

My blog isn’t one dimensional for a reason. I could never be able to write about one aspect of my life or one of the many concepts and ideals I’ve learned about throughout my lifetime.

Which, I suppose, brings me to the best advice I’ve ever received in my life. A former supervisor of mine would say but four little words when there was really nothing else to say or do. And honestly, I have to say I use it almost daily.

Ready? It’s really simple and can be easily applied to any situation, especially writing.

fuck it, why not? 

Yep that’s it! Short. Sweet. And to the mutha fuckin point!

It isn’t profound or something some great philosopher or psychological prodigy ever muttered to an international leader. But I find that it allows me to not take a situation or whatever it is I’m working on so completely seriously that I become stressed out more than I really should.

Truthfully, I can get pretty wound up for no reason other than because I can which isn’t healthy emotionally or physically. I worry for no reason other than I can and where does it ever get me?

Absolutely no where! So fuck it!

Thanks for reading….

the southern yankee 

Something to Ponder: I’m Not Like Other Girls

My big sis sent this to me the other day and it got me thinking. ha like i need ANYTHING to make me think

Take a gander.

treatment of women

I have to say in my opinion I’m not at all like most girls.

Cliché or not, I pride myself on being different. On not conforming to what religious conservatives deem how my race and gender should behave and look like. For not focusing my life on the media’s portrayal of what a black woman should be.

I’m very much a tomboy who thoroughly enjoys cursing and swearing, watching AND playing sports as well as throwing back a cold brew or a stiff put hair on your chest drank. I talk mad shit wit the boys and make lewd and inappropriate jokes. I’m a car enthusiast and aspiring mechanic. Did I mentioned I fucking HATE dressing like a damn girl? absolutely loathe that shit! You have NO idea!

I have wildly crazy natural hair that seems to have a mind of her own but I don’t nor will I straighten it because someone else tells me to or because society says I’m not pretty. Luquisha is hur to stay bitches!

I have a big ass but I don’t really try to accentuate it to make it seem like my milkshake brings all the boys (or girls) to the yard or even come swarming towards me.

My attitude at times is not because I’m uneducated or don’t got common fucking sense cuz I got a fucking degree from a top notch school mayne but because I like to be funny and adapt to my surroundings and people around me.

Lately, there seems to be a great amount of talk about women and how we should behave, think, feel and exist.

Women are expected dress a certain way otherwise we must be a two dollar hoe just cuz we show some damn skin or boobs or leg.

Women are expected to be more inclined to stay at home, clean house, take care of the churrin stupid grown ass child included, have a hot meal on the table at least twice a day and put out whenever and however the husband pleases.

We can’t be independent and do for ourselves because we’re the weaker sex. We can be sexualized against our will but not sexual on our own accord.

We can’t be President or a coach in the pros.

We cannot possibly be capable of running a successful revenue generating company.

Nope women can’t possibly ever be as omnipresent, professional, deserving of the good life or intelligent as the men who are consistently trying to gain the upper hand by backhandeding their peers. Don’t get it twisted women are just as conniving and ruthless. But unfortunately, women, especially women of color, are under paid significantly compared to a male counterpart in the same position, skill sets and tenure.

Soooooo whachu gettin at Southern Yankee?

This: Women deserve to be treated better. Women deserve to be revered as worthy of anything we put our damn minds too. Young girls like my daughter and nieces should be able to name more than a handful of women who have done something significant in the world’s history.

Women should be afforded the same opportunities as men in everything. Not because we can do everything better because we absolutely can but because the next generation needs to see that. How are we to tell our daughters, nieces, sisters, granddaughters and cousins you can be anything your heart desires if we, the current adults, don’t first set the example? No I’m not saying our sons, brothers, grandsons, etc can’t be whatever they want but in all honesty, boys obviously have it easier unless they’re gay; which then it’s a whole other ball game and certainly a whole other blog post.

Why is it women are good enough to be wives and mothers but not everything else under the sun?

Why are we selfish for wanting a career over family?

Why must we be belittled for having an opinion or fuck even an idea?

Why can’t we be equal citizens under the law instead of being subject to a religiously conservative white male’s opinion of who we are and should be?

Why?

Thanks for reading…
the southern yankee 

A Random Wordy Tuesday

I’d be lying if I said I hardly ever remember the small insignificant little aspects of my life. I’d be lying if I said those insignificant little aspects didn’t still have some sort of affect on me mentally as well as emotionally. I have issues with remembering shit and people at the most inconvenient of times. I have issues trusting and believing in the simplest of concepts.

My life is comprised of people who both inspire me to be the best I can be and those who I have yet to understand their purpose in my life. My heart yearns for the connections that could possibly be severed for life. I indulge in the what ifs and coulda woulda shoulda waaaaaay more than I really should. Not only is it unhealthy but these thoughts of inadequacy, insecurity and uselessness carried over to how I treat people. Which is unfair and unwarranted.

On a day I should be and part of me is happy, I’m reminded of the many opportunities I’m missing out on. On a day when I have a million fucking thangs to do at work, I’m sitting at the dealer protesting the necessity to leave right this second. On a day when I am obviously blessed to see the sun shining and the air against my face, I want nothing more than to be in bed with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s coffee Heath crunch, a slice of genuine New York cheesecake and some mega stuffed Oreos. don’t judge me!

I promise I’m not going through one of my bouts of depression. yeah I know I sound that way tho I just often have waaaaaay too much time to think. Random asinine thoughts flood my brain as if I ain’t got shit else to think about. the randomness of other people’s actions, opinions, personalities, style of dress, etc trigger a multitude of memories and emotions that I really don’t wanna deal with.

As I get older, the more I realize I want more outta life. I want the simple aspects of life. I want the “that would be the least of my problems” aspects of life instead of the “fuck! Not this bullshit again!” Is that asking too much outta life?

Perhaps I am. Perhaps the cliché “good things come to those that wait” is true but as my sis says “I’m getting too old for this shit!”

Thas for reading…

 

the southern yankee