To do list

I haven't written since my last post/rant; a lot has happened since then. I making a to do list that will hopefully help me stay focused!

• Write Thesis
• Post reading list for the token Asian
• upload my ipod
• study
• purchase some last minute stuff for France
• start sending out my resume
• email CNR folk
• get my hair did
• upload pictures (it will be a miracle if this actually happens)
• continue being fabulous

YEstella

Shit list

After last night, I have to start a shit list. From here on out, those who have been shit listed will be listed here.

J,

I mean, W.T.F. Your behavior last night left me speechless.

I was surprised to see you, a self-proclaimed brooklynite in cambridge.

I said hello and quickly excused myself after our first exchange because I know that you have a tendency to make things super awkward for no reason.

After your lame set, I sat back while everyone gathered around you as if you were a Aime Cesaire and Nikki Giovanni's illegitimate child;

you're not,

you're awfully mediocre at best.

I saw you preparing to exit and waved.

You walked over and we talked for a few minutes.

You gave me a flyer to your next show and asked if I would be attending. I said no because I would be in France.

Your response, "that's not bad at all."

I know it's not bad at all. Shit, it's better than being in Brooklyn and being awfully mediocre*.

all was well until this point.

You excused yourself and said you would be back.

As soon as you left, I started talking to someone else while waiting for the open mic to start and for your return.

Neither happened.

30 minutes later, I realized that you left and didn't care to bid me farewell.

W.T.F.

Yes, I liked you (This was fall 08 after you approached me on some I'm interested in you shit).

I was completely mesmerized.

I couldn't get over how you an educated, accomplished, well spoken, funny, and charismatic being could be interested in me a newbie, struggling student, editor, and wannabe poet. I'm no plain Jane but in comparison to your posse (groupies included), had little to offer as far as you were concerned.

But then I realized you're fucking lame.

You're not articulate, not charismatic, and a bore.

A fucking bore.

You're also INCREDIBLY IMMATURE and intellectually challenged.

And worst of all, you are passive aggressive. I Hate people like you.

Seriously

I admit it. I was a bit too forward.

Once I realized that you weren't interested, I apologized, backed off and tried to be as casual as possible.

You obviously weren't having it since you insisted on making things awkward.

I don't really know why, but you did.

I kept it to a hi and bye with the occasional hug or high five.

I thought you and I, mostly you, had found your antidote.

clearly not.

I guess you think I'm still interested. IDK why but I'm not.

Seriously. in addition to being lame, taken, and a plain bore, you have nothing to offer me.

You are so disrespectful, egotistical, pathetic, unimpressive, lame, and awfully, awfully, mediocre at your best.

You're bitchassness at its best.

smh

YEstella

*mediocre or shitty. Use as you see fit.

I've been robbed. I know the culprits but justice will never be served

I love reading. Books, in my opinion, provide answers to the questions we struggle with on a daily basis. My childhood was filled with books, education, playing, curious, discipline, and being bad (yes, I was the baddest of the pack). I really liked school because I was able to learn, interact with others, and prove just how smart I was (still am). My curiosity lead to a desire to want to know everything and search for these answers in books, among other places.

• Age of 4 -I was able to read on my own. I couldn't write very well or neatly then (or now) but I could read. Reading, besides being a hobby is now an obsession. Books have brought solace, they are exciting, continue to be challenging, and most importantly inspirational.
  fast forward.
• age 11- I still enjoy reading but it's different now. New country,new people, new environment, etc. Culture shock and nostalgia led to isolation as the only way of survival; I've become an introvert. I am bitter. I read a lot, write letters. Integration is a failure. I think about home often and wish I were there instead of here. I am angry. I didn't choose to be here. I would give anything to iron my uniform, rest for an hour after school (if I had morning classes), walk in the hot Yaounde sun and buy a sucette, pay 500 for a bus that's packed to capacity and is going full speed on the main road from behind the post office where I might get kidnapped if I'm not careful, try to convince my dad to let me watch Melrose Place although I have already seen Beverly Hills AND Rosa, prove to my older brother and his posse that because I am equally as good as him and his friends at everything. Therefore, I should be allowed to join them in all their debauchery or else... swoon over one of my older brother's friends because they are so hot to my 10 year old self who wants to marry them and cook for them, convince myself that if my cooking can't get them, surely my sexiness will keep them, learning the dance move to the newest Petit Pays song or any Congolese song, eat suya or roasted maize, and stay up on new years eve, the one time during the year that drunks won't be called drunks or made fun of. They've put me in ESL. I'm pissed the fuck off. It's bad enough that they put me in 6th grade instead of 8th but W.T.F.! I'm really angry. Whatever, I'll suck it up and do whatever they want. SMH-I went from placing in the top of my class to been the last coco. Crying won't do much for me.
• Age 15- full integration. I'm completely American. I don't remember being 11. Age 5 is a long lost memory. I'm still reading. At this stage, primarily literature that I have to read for school and I enjoy most of it. I am also challenged so I'm happy. As far as I'm concerned, this is the only way I can survive and be integrated. This will make me American. I only phone home on holidays. All things Cameroon are bad. I've stopped writing letters. I don't remember my classmates' names. I wonder what everyone is doing and if they think about me. This doesn't happen as often as it did at age 11.
• Age 21- I'm college educated and graduating soon. French 101 Monday and Wednesday changes my life in more ways than I expected. By the end of the semester, I'm a French major thanks to Andre Beauzethier-French professor extraordinaire, brilliant, well read, future advisor, amazingness, etc. Through him and his courses, I am introduced to an obscene amount of literature. African Literature. Senghor, Damas, Ba, Cesaire, Camus, Fanon, Kine, Diop and many others. W.T.F. ugh. I'm pissed that no one, in the past 10 years EVER mentioned any of this to me. Regardless, I. Love.It. Through his courses, I am becoming okay with being African. Africa=intellect, culture, love, peace, hot men, travel, adventure, proverbs, hips, FGM, anthropology. I learn about those who have come before me, those here with me are writing. They are writing about subjects which pertain to the past affecting my future, and are writing on the now. I am in love, mesmerized, proud, African. I have found the 5 year old in me. My memories of my childhood and becoming stronger. Cameroon. Senegal. They are both extremely difficult but I digg it. The loathe has stopped. I'm trying to make sense of this. reconnecting. A rebirth of sorts.
  

This is what I thought about today and it made me angry.
I'm pissed off and I feel as though I've been robbed of my identity and have been taught to feel that my culture is inferior. No one ever told me about Mongo Beti, Ferdinanrd Oyono, Henri Lopes, Kahlida Messaoudi, Chinua Achebe, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, and others in an academic setting. They never hesitated to teach me Emerson, Thoreau, Fitzgerald, Shakespeare, Salinger, Frost, Kerouac, and Orwell. Sure they threw in Angelou, Morrison, Wright, Hansbury and others ( I hardly related to them). Seven years of public school education and no one ever the Africans or referenced critical events such as the Algerian War of Independence, Negritude, or the severe, damaging, and often ignored effects of colonialism on both the identity and psyche of those trying to live in a post colonial world then and now, or the experience of first generation immigrants living in the diaspora.
Needless to say, I am pissed off.

I seriously think that the notion of America as a melting pot works; theoretically. Those of us who are immigrants or whose parents are immigrants are never taught about our culture, history, etc. in school (elementary and high school). It is rare that those writing about issues we care about or can relate to are discussed or even mentioned in the classroom.
smdh!

YEstella

I feel like death

Exactly like the title says. I'm pretty sick; feverish and stuff. If I feel better in a few hours, I will finish my original post...

Fulbright

So I think I'm going to apply for the 2010/2011 year! Research project on talibes in Senegal and Mali. This means my French has to be amazing! good times. Thoughts? I should probably research this and think about it more...

I'm totally ready for these,

nights like this,

and moments like this.

-And the eye candy. I can't believe I almost forgot.

YEstella

More pictures please!

I need to be featured somewhere.

IDK why I like this...haha I'm pretty strange!

Two of my favorites: My Twin and Nels!

I. Love. Boston. (Minus the snow, shoveling, and cold).

I went out to lunch by myself. Prior to this Saturday, I can't remember the last time I did this. While having lunch, an awesome couple came in. She was black (with dreads!!!) and he was asian (maybe vietnamese?) Dope!Y

My token asian. caffeine, books, men, laughing, summer, and being awesomely bad while looking fabulous: Us in a nutchell.

LOL

I can't wait for summer. ugh

View from my window...

Me Me Me is all you think that I care about.

I Y Borders.

I can totally do a show on shoes...

Seriously!

YEstella

Things fall apart

Clearly, I need to write in this more. There isn't a reason why I don't (I don't think being lazy is a good enough reason). Hopefully, March will be an awesome month filled with productivity and maybe a job? Last week, I realized that I have spent the past two months feeling sorry for myself as a result of things not falling into place as I expected/planned. Life post slump will hopefully include the following:

1. Loan(s) to pay for France (This a must). Hopefully, Friday will be the day.
2. Write my French thesis. I've read the book once and seen the movie twice. I should definitely make a schedule so that I can be more productive. I also need to read the novel at least two more times.
3. Read as much as I can. I'm hoping to read Purple Hibiscus, Triste Trophiques, Life of Pi, The Blues Eye, The Audacity of Hope, Dreams of my Father, The Poor Christ of Boomba, Notebook on the Return to the Native Land, Nowhere in Africa, Love in the Time of Cholera, The Little Prince, Antériorité Des Civilisations Nègres, Male Daughters, Female Husbands, Gender and Sex in an African Society, Infidel, The Cairo Trilogy, L'Amour, La Fantasia, Life and Times of Michael K, Ghana: The Autobiography of Kwame Nkrumah, Citizens and Subject: Contemporary Africa and the legacy of late colonialism, La Grève des bàttu ou les déchets humains, and No Future Without Forgiveness. Si se peude!
4. Try to figure out what I'm doing after graduation (internship, work, moving, etc.).
5. Make empanada's (I've wanted to make them since last month).
6. Go to the Museum of Contemporary Art; continue to be more cultured. (I sound like an NYU hipster).
7. Try to find forgiveness in my heart and move on.
8. Figure out French grammar i.e. memorize all these tenses and modes. (BOOOOOOOO)
9. Start researching my independent study. (This should be at the top of the list)
10. Start sending CNR emails since they like fucking with me!

I'm going to go read now...

YEstella

P.S.: I used a lot of parenthesis (sp) in this post...