I’m Done Answering Questions About My Hair & Other Things That Irritate Me

***I wrote this post a couple of weeks ago on a turbulence riddled flight from Chicago to New York. At the time, I suppose I was just feeling some type of way, and as usual the page served as my outlet. Since I felt so much better after having said my peace, I really had no desire to actually publish the post to my blog. However, this past weekend (on my birthday), a non-guilty verdict was given with regards to the Trayvon Martin killing. Needless to say I haven't felt much peace since then.  I'm not going to speak much about the fuckery that was displayed before , during and after the trial because many have said it better with much more wisdom and truth than I will ever be able to. Instead, I went to the rally for Trayvon in Harlem, I've signed the petition on the NAACP's website, I've called my best friend and discussed it at length and I've just prayed continuously for Trayvon's family and for the sick people that continue to pollute our beautiful world and massacre our people. I have nothing else constructive to say about the situation so I won't. Instead I will refer you to my rant from a few weeks back on some shit that has been irritating me lately.***

"I would say that in general I’m a fairly even-tempered individual  most of the time. It takes a lot to rile me up and  I tend to avoid confrontation at all cost. If I need to read someone usually my baby sister does it for me. However, there are some things that irritate me and because I’m currently on a turbulence riddled plane after stewing in the airport during a two hour flight delay, I think I shall talk about all the things that really bring out my type A personality." 

Questions About My Hair: I’ve been pretty open about my hair, being natural, letting people  (people that I know) touch it and so forth for the past five years.  I’m over it. Don’t ask me shit, If you don’t know, YouTube it or watch Good Hair or ask another Black person. I’ve paid my dues. (I say this in this nicest way possible)

       Constant Complaining: Everyone has good and bad days. I complain at times (I’m doing so right now). But constantly, and all the time?!!!!  Girl please get your life I don’t have time. That’s what’s therapy is for!! I Can't!! You’re sucking the life out of me.

        Laziness:During undergrad I worked part-time, had a internship, was an RA and still graduated with honors. It’s your life what you put in is what you get out. Grown people please refrain from whining. At a certain point its your life and whatever it is that you're dealing with is quite often a result of your own choices or lack thereof.

        Entitled People Who Haven’t Worked For Shit: I encountered this on a daily basis at my undergrad. I’d just like to inform you types that you won’t go far in life.

       Airports:  I usually get to the gate as my flight is boarding. Sitting in a airport all day irritates me. I suppose this goes with waiting in general. I don’t do well waiting on other people. I think it comes from living by myself. (Some days I’m more patient than others.... mostly when there is food involved :))

       People Whose Lives Are In Shambles And Yet Constantly Try to Advise You: Real life Tyrese Gibsons. Please find a stadium and have a seat. I'll make sure you're the first call I make when I want to be as messy as possible. 

       Slow Moving People: I think this is because I’ve lived in NYC for the past five years. But girl, if you’re gonna move like molasses please slide your ass to one side of the walk way. Why are you taking up the entire sidewalk and  holding people up?!!! (This also goes for people who stand in doorways and at train exits so people getting on and off have to meander around them :/)

       Gut Busters:  Girl…. Now I realize that it is summer and therefore 750 degrees. However, let  it be advised that your cellulite and giggly puffs on display for all those to see are not cute. I shall say I’m not a tiny woman, but I’ve never had  a gut either. Even still when I wear something form fitting best believe I have no shame in putting on spanks to make sure everything is as nice and tight as possible. The atrocities that I see in my neighborhood on a daily basis surely motivate me to get in the gym at least every other day.  

       Know It Alls: You really don’t know much. I hate to burst your bubble but you’re actually rather incompetent.

       Fuck Boys: "Men who act like it's their job to coach woman into being what they want them to be!" ~ Crissles  (Basically all the sexist misogynist assholes who can't even keep a decent job. As usual Crissles says it better than I .) The Read "Say No to Fu*k Boys"  Begin at 54 mins in.

        Ok I feel much better now. I apologize if I’ve offended anyone but I was feeling a bit pressed. Now that the plane has evened out I’m feeling much better."

xoxoxo Choocolate Girl in the City xoxoxox

Why I deteste Going Below 59th Street & Vacating My Position as the Token Black Girl

You would think by now, (after four years at NYU) I was used to being one of the only Black people in various social and sadly academic settings. However, I received a rude awakening about two months ago when I went out for one of my good friends birthdays and I'm pleased to inform everyone that I will be returning my token card. I am no longer here for it, I'm sorry. If you would like to invite me anywhere from now on, I'll ask you to find some poor Negro and invite them along to be my companion because this is just exhausting. Either that or you can come up to 125th street and hang with me. Let's get into the tale shall we. I was really excited to see my friend. I hadn't seen her since her epic holiday party at the beginning of December and honestly I was becoming a hermit due to the "immediate ashyness, frigid death weather" that's been blowing thru NYC. I decided to brave the cold and trek downtown to grab drinks with her for her birthday and that ladies and gentlemen was my first grave mistake. When I finally arrived at the Jane Hotel after walking across some three avenues (of course it was that pungent time of night when there are literally NO CABS available) I was already OVER IT.  I had on a skirt and i didn't even have on my appropriate coat because I called myself being cute (SMH, that was my second grave error). Of course the place was slave ship packed so we all hopped in cabs to make our way over to The Park (another venue close by). Now don't get me wrong its a stunning venue, and I'm sure I would enjoy being bougie in the atmosphere on a warm spring day. However, when it comes to nightlife and club interaction. I will NEVER again be here for it. I should have realized as I was getting my arm stamped that the only people around that looked like me were the bouncers. I probably should have pulled up a stool and sat outside with them smh. Anyways once we all shuffled in (after placing the gentlemen strategically around us so that we all got thru in a timely manner :/... I can't) we all headed over to the coat check. My third grave error of the evening. This is when the "angry black woman" started brewing inside of me. Literally Uncle Ben from the rice box was taking our coats. Now, The Park is a relatively young place (I would estimate that most people are under 30), so why was somebody letting their old as dirt uncle work at this place for these bratty ass NYU grads?!! I was so pressed. What totally set me off even more was the fact that when I FINALLY got up to the front of the line the poor man's tip bucket wasn't even full.

But that isn't was took the cake, NO MA'AM. I am turning in my token card because of last grave and final error of the evening which involved me screaming at the bartender. I'm still cold at this point and I kind of wish I was snuggled up in bed watching Bridesmaids, but alas its my good friends bday so I'm attempting not to have an attitude. I saunter up to the bar to order my drank and the bartender asks to see my stamped wrist. I hold up my hand to him and he tells me he doesn't see anything. I look down, and where everyone else has a loud black stamp I have a faint ashy ass few lines.  I try to explain to the bartender that I am Black and also very chocolate skinned so the ish isn't showin up on me. He proceeds to catch a tude' with me and tells me that I either need to try and get closer so he can try and look at it better or I won't be getting a drink. Now girl...., I'm usually not the one to go off on people but I gave him a smooth piece of my mind. I do recall bellowing out "I'm Black bitch, I suggest next time you get a phuckin pennant marker outside".

Needless to day I've pretty much put myself on punishment since then. There is a reason I chose to leave in Harlem and I'll pretty much be remaining here, with my peeps at least until the weather is tolerable xoxox Chocolate Girl in the City xoxoxox