Millions of people in this country are going through the same struggle. It's such a competitive fight for something that we all deserve, but at the same time only want because it pays our bills. It's something that we all either go to school for or work hard for, but in this economy it's difficult to come by. There are few who rise to the top, but then so much more have fallen from this difficult climb. I've become among part of the fallen.
Last Friday, I had an interview for this internship which is within the industry I have a degree for. It sounded very interesting and I thought I would make a great candidate for their position. The interview went well. The supervisor seemed so excited to call me back on Monday. I was super excited. Finally something turned out to be working well.
But Monday came and went without any phone call. I was anxious and confused as to what was going on. I sent her an email that night about the call. The next day, I woke up to an e-mail response saying they hired someone else. At first, I tried to act cool about it. But bad news with me has no effect at first, but it pummels me like a pile of bricks soon after.
Positivity is hard to achieve when rejection sticks to you like an evil dark shadow or a pestering older brother. It's both scary and annoying. It's frustrating and it won't go away. It's like a disease that I have no cure for. I'm the type of person who thrives on success. So how positive can I be when rejection won't leave me alone?
I put in so much enthusiasm and positivity into a job I hear a reply from. No matter how qualified I believe I am for it, there's always someone better. It's just draining to want something so hard, to work for it, to feel like you've got it, and then to hear someone else dug up your prized possession.
I know I have the skills to do an excellent job. I have great listening skills. I'm very patient. I'm keen on detail. I like being a perfectionist. I like to see things through to the best of their ability. I want so strongly to use my skills to help an organization reach its fullest potential. But my confidence is just shot even more when I get the impression that I'll be able to use my skills and I can't.
The job hunt is killing my spirit gradually with every interview. My degree of which I dedicated four years of hard work to finish feels like crap in the eyes of an employer. I always wonder, what did I do wrong? What can I do right?
In any case, I'll stop my rambling for now. My optimistic attitude will not die completely. I won't give up because something out there is waiting for me no matter how many misleading or very leading responses I get. But that last rejection really brought out the weakness in me today. I'm just telling the tale of a broken spirit.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Writing - Second nature or a challenge?
The art of pushing a pen against paper and creating a magnetic word flow is something of a challenge to most people. Whenever I tell people my major in college, they say how they're terrible at writing and how they could use all the help. Yet, even though I love to write, it doesn't always come so easy for me either.
Ideas of all sorts are always floating around in my head. Passages of literature make their way into my mind frame, but they never catch the ink of my pen. All the time I tell myself to write. When the time comes, the words don't flow as effortlessly as they did when they first crossed my thoughts.
Why is it so difficult to bring back these ideas? They sit in my mind for hours, days, weeks seemingly fading away. Too much of life pulls me away from setting my thoughts to peace. Problems with my parents, job stress, etc keeps my mind pacing for expression. Even good days like spending time with that special someone and sharing laughs with friends keeps me occupied. My thoughts shake with anxiety of my reluctance to free them.
But my thoughts cannot stress any longer. I will try to focus on the importance of expressing myself. It's something that I can't deny any longer. Like this wise pastor in my church said today, "Use your talent or God will take it away from you," I'll use my writing anyway I can. Hopefully, it'll only continue to grow.
Ideas of all sorts are always floating around in my head. Passages of literature make their way into my mind frame, but they never catch the ink of my pen. All the time I tell myself to write. When the time comes, the words don't flow as effortlessly as they did when they first crossed my thoughts.
Why is it so difficult to bring back these ideas? They sit in my mind for hours, days, weeks seemingly fading away. Too much of life pulls me away from setting my thoughts to peace. Problems with my parents, job stress, etc keeps my mind pacing for expression. Even good days like spending time with that special someone and sharing laughs with friends keeps me occupied. My thoughts shake with anxiety of my reluctance to free them.
But my thoughts cannot stress any longer. I will try to focus on the importance of expressing myself. It's something that I can't deny any longer. Like this wise pastor in my church said today, "Use your talent or God will take it away from you," I'll use my writing anyway I can. Hopefully, it'll only continue to grow.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Hair - Not the musical, but the real life dilema
It's crazy how much of an issue hair is for black women. It never used to be for me before. I love how my cute little bob flows with the wind. Every two weeks is my routine visit to the Dominican salon for my wash n' set. I love how my hair shakes, bounces, and waves with any movement my head makes. I love how smooth it feels under my finger tips and the extra shine it gives in the sunlight. I always feel confident when my hair is looking 'fly.' But the act of gaining this little confidence is not so easy.
It burns. It takes what feels like hours to settle into your roots. And it's white. It's called a relaxer as you should already know. It's sounds like something that should be calming to your senses. It really does literally relax your hair, but the process is not relaxing at all. The creamy, chemical substance somewhat painfully pulls your hair from it's natural state. It looks beautiful after the two to three hours of perming, washing, and transforming your kinks. But why go through all this torture?
My mother got me into perming my hair when I was 12. Before this, she used to do my hair herself. It used to HURT. I'd cry from the comb when it would just tickle my tresses. She was never gentle with this job. My hair was her garden and the comb was her rake. I'd have a lot of cute little hairstyles. But my red eyes couldn't really see the beauty of it all.
I would always see these gorgeous, successful, black women in these magazines, tv, and on the streets with straight hair. It would always look so soft, so shiny, and so approachable for others to admire. Whenever I used to go to my junior high school with my au natural, I was always like 'whatever this is my hair and this is how I where it (though it hurts)'. For whatever reason, my mom pressed my hair with a hot comb one day and then eventually upgraded to relaxing. I hated the burning of the perm, but the compliments were nice. I started to feel a little more like the women in the magazines and my confidence grew a little.
And then here I am today. My confidence really grew more after getting rid of braces in high school and growing out of my shyness slowly but surely. Yet, I always felt better when my hair was looking good. As in straight. Only in my college years when I stopped focusing so much on other things is when I finally started looking at what my hair means to me.
Honestly, I hate how much of an issue perming is for black women. White women do it and it's no problem. Black women do it and it's this whole political issue. You're putting chemicals in your hair. You're turning white. You're a self hating black woman.
Ok, no one has ever said this me, but it's a stereotype pinned to women who perm or weave their hair. I love being black. The darker the berry, the sweeter the juice. I love my curves, my mind, and all other assets of being African American. So am I hating? No, I'm just loving being me.
I do see how much power and grace a woman with the natural tresses holds, though. There's so much beauty and character that a bold afro carries within. There's just so much that can be done with these kinky curls. And I've grown to love it soo much. I just wished my red eyes of the past could have seen the beauty sooner.
As of right now, I see the beauty everywhere. We really do have hair that is one of a kind. Rather than hate on one, I choose to love and appreciate all kinds. Both sides have given me pain, but without pain there's no beauty. If everything was easy, it wouldn't mean much right?
So we put ourselves through this trauma because of our own personal reasons. We take the care and time to mold our natural tresses, but also love the silky, smooth feel that a perm can give us. Although, it's easy to argue against the chemical process of a relaxer, I'm tired of feeling guilty and ashamed of how I like my hair to be at this time in my life. Confidence will remain exuberant with me regardless of if my hair is straight or kinky. Both is truly a stunning feature for us all.
Tiffany <3
It burns. It takes what feels like hours to settle into your roots. And it's white. It's called a relaxer as you should already know. It's sounds like something that should be calming to your senses. It really does literally relax your hair, but the process is not relaxing at all. The creamy, chemical substance somewhat painfully pulls your hair from it's natural state. It looks beautiful after the two to three hours of perming, washing, and transforming your kinks. But why go through all this torture?
My mother got me into perming my hair when I was 12. Before this, she used to do my hair herself. It used to HURT. I'd cry from the comb when it would just tickle my tresses. She was never gentle with this job. My hair was her garden and the comb was her rake. I'd have a lot of cute little hairstyles. But my red eyes couldn't really see the beauty of it all.
I would always see these gorgeous, successful, black women in these magazines, tv, and on the streets with straight hair. It would always look so soft, so shiny, and so approachable for others to admire. Whenever I used to go to my junior high school with my au natural, I was always like 'whatever this is my hair and this is how I where it (though it hurts)'. For whatever reason, my mom pressed my hair with a hot comb one day and then eventually upgraded to relaxing. I hated the burning of the perm, but the compliments were nice. I started to feel a little more like the women in the magazines and my confidence grew a little.
And then here I am today. My confidence really grew more after getting rid of braces in high school and growing out of my shyness slowly but surely. Yet, I always felt better when my hair was looking good. As in straight. Only in my college years when I stopped focusing so much on other things is when I finally started looking at what my hair means to me.
Honestly, I hate how much of an issue perming is for black women. White women do it and it's no problem. Black women do it and it's this whole political issue. You're putting chemicals in your hair. You're turning white. You're a self hating black woman.
Ok, no one has ever said this me, but it's a stereotype pinned to women who perm or weave their hair. I love being black. The darker the berry, the sweeter the juice. I love my curves, my mind, and all other assets of being African American. So am I hating? No, I'm just loving being me.
I do see how much power and grace a woman with the natural tresses holds, though. There's so much beauty and character that a bold afro carries within. There's just so much that can be done with these kinky curls. And I've grown to love it soo much. I just wished my red eyes of the past could have seen the beauty sooner.
As of right now, I see the beauty everywhere. We really do have hair that is one of a kind. Rather than hate on one, I choose to love and appreciate all kinds. Both sides have given me pain, but without pain there's no beauty. If everything was easy, it wouldn't mean much right?
So we put ourselves through this trauma because of our own personal reasons. We take the care and time to mold our natural tresses, but also love the silky, smooth feel that a perm can give us. Although, it's easy to argue against the chemical process of a relaxer, I'm tired of feeling guilty and ashamed of how I like my hair to be at this time in my life. Confidence will remain exuberant with me regardless of if my hair is straight or kinky. Both is truly a stunning feature for us all.
Tiffany <3
Friday, August 13, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
My start in the Real World
I've had a lot of ups & downs this year. I must say it was a really good year for me in the beginning. My grades were awesome, I just turned 21 so I could go out more (More specifically the Green Room =)), I realized my love for writing more, and it really was one of the better semesters with all the great times I had with my friends. The scary part though was graduating and leaving it all behind.
I know going through change is a part of life. We're all going to graduate from college one day and have to face the real world. But what I'm facing right now after all the pride and glory of my hard work is anxiety and worry. The real world's cold touch is icy enough to give me hypothermia right now even through this heat. I mean, seriously, there are so many jobs out there that want at least 3 years of job experience. How am supposed to have that if I was in college?
Friends of mine have resumes with nearly 4.0 GPAs, honors, impressive internships and academic performance. Yet, still these employers are shutting their doors to them. I know the economy sucks right now, but when will it get better? One of my biggest fears is that all this unemployment is going to increase crime. I know it's already happening since there was a shooting on my block the other night.
Life is supposed to be a struggle though. Honestly, it would be pretty boring without all the challenges. These are hard times for us all, but God will shed some light on our overcast skies. I know months from now, I will be stronger and wiser than ever before. Good things come with baby steps, but great things come with time. So let the path in front of me be a beautiful lesson into this strange entity we call life.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
One Voice
This is a poem I wrote earlier this year. It's kind of intense from my usual calm attitude. Lol. Take a peak into another side of me.
One Voice
My emotions are rising
Shook up, they've been shook up.
They're bottled in, ready to explode.
The pressure is intense.
My insides are ready to implode.
But all you see is a peaceful day my way.
A calm meadow full of silence.
A bomb is ready to go off
and you don't even know it.
The seconds go by,
tic-toc-tic,
what are you doing?
Standing there like nothing's wrong
Can't you see a problem?
Why won't you help me?
All you see is what you want to see,
all you see is yourself.
Hurry up! Discover what's wrong with me
You don't have much time.
Are you blind?
Are you stupid?
Are you even there?
There's something inside of me.
Ready to burst.
It's always been there,
waiting for you to listen.
But now, I'm messed up.
It's too late, you messed up.
Now, we're not going to survive.
This atrocity could have been saved
If you had just paid attention to
the bundled up chaos in front of you.
All I wanted from you
was to turn off that noise
and listen to the sound
of my aching voice.
My emotions are rising
Shook up, they've been shook up.
They're bottled in, ready to explode.
The pressure is intense.
My insides are ready to implode.
But all you see is a peaceful day my way.
A calm meadow full of silence.
A bomb is ready to go off
and you don't even know it.
The seconds go by,
tic-toc-tic,
what are you doing?
Standing there like nothing's wrong
Can't you see a problem?
Why won't you help me?
All you see is what you want to see,
all you see is yourself.
Hurry up! Discover what's wrong with me
You don't have much time.
Are you blind?
Are you stupid?
Are you even there?
There's something inside of me.
Ready to burst.
It's always been there,
waiting for you to listen.
But now, I'm messed up.
It's too late, you messed up.
Now, we're not going to survive.
This atrocity could have been saved
If you had just paid attention to
the bundled up chaos in front of you.
All I wanted from you
was to turn off that noise
and listen to the sound
of my aching voice.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Frustrations of synthetic noise
I'm a true lover of real, authentic music. The expression of what an artist says in a song should be like a door or maybe even just a peak through the blinds of someones soul. This viewing through words is like a blessing sometimes because it brings me to a comfort zone. It helps many people deal with the stresses that life brings. It helps you feel like there's a presence, a lending hand to make one feel at home.
So I question the authenticity of our music today. Ever since people have been producing music, they do it for commercial reasons and for making money. They generate music that the record company thinks that will sell and in doing that they further corrupt the ears of the generation listening to it. In my opinion, it didn't seem as bad back in the 1990s as it is now. More music of the heart was heard back in the day. Now, it seems like everyone is producing garbage.
I used to just think that the main genre of this was the rap genre. Yet, more and more filth is being poured into the music of various styles. The genuine artists are being washed away by a sea of phonies. Oversexed music has been around for some time, but its hitting a boiling point with me.
I just want the madness to stop and for real music to rebel against the masses. What sells seems like it will always rule in this business though. Maybe one day it won't, I hope. I just felt like ranting after watching this. It just gets annoying after awhile.
Here's some of what I like that prove true to me.
Anthony Hamilton - Life
Luther Vandross - Never Too Much
Jill Scott - Long Walk
Amel Larrieux - For Real
So I question the authenticity of our music today. Ever since people have been producing music, they do it for commercial reasons and for making money. They generate music that the record company thinks that will sell and in doing that they further corrupt the ears of the generation listening to it. In my opinion, it didn't seem as bad back in the 1990s as it is now. More music of the heart was heard back in the day. Now, it seems like everyone is producing garbage.
I used to just think that the main genre of this was the rap genre. Yet, more and more filth is being poured into the music of various styles. The genuine artists are being washed away by a sea of phonies. Oversexed music has been around for some time, but its hitting a boiling point with me.
I just want the madness to stop and for real music to rebel against the masses. What sells seems like it will always rule in this business though. Maybe one day it won't, I hope. I just felt like ranting after watching this. It just gets annoying after awhile.
Here's some of what I like that prove true to me.
Anthony Hamilton - Life
Luther Vandross - Never Too Much
Jill Scott - Long Walk
Amel Larrieux - For Real
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Unthinkable (I'm Ready)
Alicia Keys is an amazing artist. This song matches how I feel in my life in so many ways. I'm just ready to take that extra step into the pool of life and let the memories flow. A new path is forming for me soon once I graduate from college and I'm ready for it. Enjoy her newest song, "Unthinkable (I'm Ready)"
Monday, March 15, 2010
Lovesick
This is a poem I actually wrote maybe a month ago. I hope you all will enjoy especially if it's something you can relate to. I am definitely no Maya Angelou, but I am a person who just wants to express.
Lovesick
Love is all one needs.To feel the breath of life.
To take a step into ecstasy that is hard to escape from.
To fall into an everlasting energy that pulls away from the suffocating clutches of reality.
It's an entity that I can't obtain.
A sickness that I'm healthy from.
It's a disease that catches the hearts of many, but refuses few.
It keeps you away from school.
It keeps you away from struggles.
Most medicines cannot cure.
It's the one illness many desire but cannot have.
Hopes arise in my youthful heart.
The love bug will catch me one day.
And I hope I can stay sick in it.
Escaping the never-ending ache
of life's' harsh truths.
Even if just for a moment.
To take a step into ecstasy that is hard to escape from.
To fall into an everlasting energy that pulls away from the suffocating clutches of reality.
It's an entity that I can't obtain.
A sickness that I'm healthy from.
It's a disease that catches the hearts of many, but refuses few.
It keeps you away from school.
It keeps you away from struggles.
Most medicines cannot cure.
It's the one illness many desire but cannot have.
Hopes arise in my youthful heart.
The love bug will catch me one day.
And I hope I can stay sick in it.
Escaping the never-ending ache
of life's' harsh truths.
Even if just for a moment.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Losing My Way
I feel like I've lost some of my connection with God since coming to college. With every year, it's just gotten worse. Freshman year, I'd go to church almost every Sunday. Sophomore year, maybe every few Sundays. Junior year, I only went a few Sundays during the spring semester. And now as a senior, I've probably gone maybe once or twice during the fall. What's happening to me? Why am I letting college take over my relationship with God? It used to be much stronger. But now it's only gotten weaker.
Vacations at home usually means church time. I go almost every Sunday when I'm home. I love the Beulah Church of Nazarene, my church back home. I always feel closer to God with the insightful sermons and the uplifting melodies. So maybe my reasoning for not going to church up here in Plattsburgh is because I don't feel that same connection with the churches here.
Still, I want to feel that closer connection with him again. I don't want to lose my way. I want to at least feel as close as I did after finishing high school.
I just need to try harder. My bible sits right next to my bed, but its pages never sees the light of day. I usually don't know where to start when it comes to opening my bible, but it doesn't hurt to start somewhere. God is waiting patiently for me, so I need to take the time to come to him. Pray for me. For anyone who's going through anything similar, I hope you will find your way with Christ soon enough as I'm hoping to.
Vacations at home usually means church time. I go almost every Sunday when I'm home. I love the Beulah Church of Nazarene, my church back home. I always feel closer to God with the insightful sermons and the uplifting melodies. So maybe my reasoning for not going to church up here in Plattsburgh is because I don't feel that same connection with the churches here.
Still, I want to feel that closer connection with him again. I don't want to lose my way. I want to at least feel as close as I did after finishing high school.
I just need to try harder. My bible sits right next to my bed, but its pages never sees the light of day. I usually don't know where to start when it comes to opening my bible, but it doesn't hurt to start somewhere. God is waiting patiently for me, so I need to take the time to come to him. Pray for me. For anyone who's going through anything similar, I hope you will find your way with Christ soon enough as I'm hoping to.
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