Sadly lovely
when I was 5 years old
the ocean swallowed me
and I swallowed her .
my uncle pulled my body
out of the ripping tides
and forced her out.
in the moments
of my drowned recollection
i only hoped that I was going
where I was meant to be
and indeed fate intervened.
I hope this is the same.
I hope your leaving
is just life
being forced
back into my lungs.
– sheila c
You know how you just know a thing but you try not to say it to anyone because:
Well, whether you say anything to anyone- the ignorance of certain people will in fact raise it’s bleached blonde head when you’re trying so hard to be good.
And when it happens you should try very hard to be cool. Like this morning when she claimed that she watched your face when someone in the room said something stupid that she just knew was going to annoy you and you responded “I have like 6 weeks left here. There is nothing you or anyone else can do to get a rise out of me. Try harder.”
In that moment you realized what the true image of crestfallen was.
And you realized for the 1,908, 763,219 time that there are people in America who really have no lives outside of trying to make someone else’s more difficult for no other reason than… hell how would you know? Be glad you don’t and keep slaying.
Last night AB took me to the Beyonce Formation concert. Half as an early birthday present. Half as a we need to get out of the house and do something because being business owners, parents, and employees is STRESSFUL as Fuck. At least right now.
So she got us some what would be considered nose bleed section seats. I’ve never blogged about this but I’m pretty much what you would call a bougie black girl. In fact when the concert tickets went on sale I declined to purchase them because good tickets (I need to be close enough to look into the singers eyes while they sing to me. Cause everyone knows that they are singing to me) were not in our budget and I was not willing to take something else out just to be able to afford them. I like Bey but I am not a Stan nor am I a part of the Bey Hive. So when it comes down to bi-weekly cleaning ladies and laundry service vs one night with #Bae at #Bey I declined.
But Bey dropped Lemonade and me being the artist/hopeless romantic that I am, was instantly sucked in . I didn’t just want the tickets. I needed them. And AB being who she is ( a person who SEES me). Knew this. So she purchased them, last minute. Taking the best available at the price that we could afford. This was my first insight into the fact that we’re old. Bougie black girl #1 and Ashley AB Butler do not DO nosebleed seats. EVER. But yesterday, we did.
Insight #2:
I watched people preparing for their night with Bey via Oral Fixation’s Facebook page and quite a few times I was like “Oh hell naw. I’m not wearing heels, or a dress, or putting on make up.” Good thing when I got home and started to get dressed AB was on the same wave length.
“I can guarantee that Beyonce is not thinking about what people are wearing. Even if you got to meet her personally what you’re wearing would not be on her mind.”- AB said as she put on comfortable clothes.
(Whoop Whoop!)
So we didn’t get all dressed up aka I didn’t wear heels: 🙂
Don’t worry we both wore comfortable, reasonable clothes well suited for walking long distances, being at a concert in a stadium, and looking as cute as comfortably possible… Which was quite cute if I do say so myself.
#3 I drank one drink before I left the house and did not purchase a single solitary thing at the concert. Not even popcorn. Partially because I didn’t want to spend a million dollars on drinks but mostly so I wouldn’t have to get up to go to the bathroom and miss anything or keep asking other people to get up so that I could get pass them. See, doesn’t that sound like some old lady stuff?
Lastly I’m currently on a personal site social media hiatus so I didn’t even feel the need to try to share my experience via the internet. I think I might have sent to snaps t o my snap chat out of boredom before the concert started. But once it started my phone stayed in my pocket. My focus was on the show and serenading AB (cause how else would she really enjoy herself if I didn’t sing to her?)
Anyways we had an amazing time. Sitting up that high at a night time concert was AMAZEBALLS we were uber close to the stars while being serenaded by Queen Bey herself. Seriously I couldn’t have planned it better if I tried.
Oh and this blog has no pictures because I was too busy enjoying myself to think about that. (I’ll do better next time. I know you care about seeing my face.)
I’m grateful for so many things. Mostly for the mind to remember to be grateful. For everything for every thing. Today I am most grateful for:
A home that I own. No rent, no weird maintenance people. No co-owned roaches from my neighbor’s apartment.
AB getting to spend the weekend with her Bestie. Which gives us both a weekend to miss each other. When you live, love, and work together having your own lives is imperative.
Random messages from writer friends. If you’re a writer, find your tribe and love them hard. They’re so very necessary for a great Writer’s Life.
Snap Chat- Silliness without the drama.
Tumblr-Where writers go to grow.
My family was here last weekend including my grandmother Nettie. Even though I didn’t get to spend much time with them I feel recharged.
Endings, beginnings, and every thing in between.
For feeling like today I have come in to my own. Maybe tomorrow I won’t know who I am or what I want but today I am so sure.
Owning my own business where every day can be bring your child to work day.
I really wanted to like this book. The premise: a teenager finds out that she’s a grim reaper and learns how to reap souls over her summer vacation, is fresh and interesting. But the execution of the book was pretty flat in areas. I get that writers have some creative license with their stories but things should make sense in some way shape or fashion. I kinda want to read the rest of the series but I’ve place it way at the bottom of my TBR list for when I’m excruciatingly bored.
In June I will be leaving my full time job. I plan to help Ashley make the shops more successful, really work our network marketing business and to take my writing career seriously (in addition to the rest of my slash society jobs). The closer I get to my end date the more nervous I have been becoming.
Last night I had a dream that I went on a polar bear plunge. Something I have absolutely no interest in. There are many crazy things that I would like to try in this world but jumping into a frozen body of water would be something that I would only do if I were given a million dollars to do it.
Anyways during the dream, after I jumped into the frigid water I felt a sense of warmth and calm that I haven’t felt in a long while. 
I woke up full of newfound courage and prepared to tackle, learn, and succeed at all of my new ventures.
Lately I’ve been feeling really overwhelmed with the state of the world. I’ve always been really sensitive about what’s going on in my community and in the world. Like most little girls I planned to change the world by solving some major human problem when I grew up. Fast forward to now and I can honestly say that I am doing the work. On a daily basis I am making strides to help solve issues in my community.
The work of an activist of any kind can often be emotionally tolling. Many activists suffer from burn out, nervous breakdowns, and even suicide. So it’s very important to take time out to relax, treat yourself and get your mind focused. Which I’ve been trying to do since Girl Talk in The Park was completed. The event was a success but very challenging and heavy to pull off.
Except, my social media accounts don’t really allow for mental breaks. I’m constantly bombarded with the ills of the world, America in particular.
I don’t watch the news because it is inundated with the negative aspects of what humans do to each other. For many years this has been my stance and my salvation. Besides most of the news stations don’t really share the news. When’s the last time you heard a real report about global warming?
All of the stations seem to share the same things that humans seem to love, Donald Trump, Kim Kardashian, Kanye West, and Police Brutality. Throw in racism, children being arrested for being children, and any new technology that’s on the horizon and you’ve got yourself a piece guaranteed to bring in the ratings.
For me, That’s what my social media accounts have begun to look like, click bait. High interest topics designed to elicit a reaction. And honestly I’m cool with it. I strongly believe that people should share what they want to share on their accounts. However, It doesn’t work for me. I don’t always want to read about the horrors of the world. In fact I would much rather go back to the days when people filled their pages with pictures of their new babies and their latest vacations. Anything to get me away from the many many social media activists. People who sit behind their computers and thoughtlessly share pictures and videos of people being horrible to each other. Who share news articles about politicians being straight out racists without talking a quick jaunt over to snopes to verify that tmz- anything is a bootleg version of The Onion. All the while being noticeably missing from doing the actual footwork in their community. I.E. Tampa peeps what have you done about the widening of 275?
I’m not judging… just asking
So I’m taking a break. I won’t be back on my personal Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter Accounts until May 1st and prior to that I’m going to go on a massive unfollowing spree. More than likely if you share fight videos or old news about something the KKK did ten years ago claiming it happened last week, we’ll still be friends but I just won’t have your shares clogging up my news feed.
I’m also going to take the time to work on my novel, take lots of naps, work on my house, spend REAL and PRESENT time with my family, go to the beach, and read sooooo many books. If you have my number I hope that you’ll reach out to me and connect with me in the real live world.
In the mean time I wish you peace, love, and loads of laughter.
XO,
Adrien
So I just posted a selfie on IG and when I looked at it I realized how large my lips were. Funny thing: I have never thought that my lips were large. I’ve never paid them any attention except to apply some Chapstick. If you know me you know lipstick is such a rare occasion that I don’t even own any.
Anyways, I never thought of how large my lips were until there was this huge racist uproar on MAC Cosmetics IG. And even then I didn’t say anything. I guess I just sort of absorbed it.
That selfie made me think of all of the parts of my body that I’ve thought were too much. And when exactly that happened, like my breasts… They became too large when it was cooler to have smaller perky breasts. Anything larger than a hand full was too much. That’s what the media has shown us for so long. Until getting larger boobs became a thing. Even then the media loves those perky fake ones over us heavy full breasted girls.
I know I know you’re like Adrien what are you talking about but this is how women especially black women begin to internalize hatred for aspects of themselves. I don’t hate my lips but now I know that they’re large. *shrugs* Now I know they match my Michael Jackson Nose.
Also, I keep seeing my “social media friends” mention how they are so over the talk about racism and this and that and why don’t black people get over things that happened in the past.
Sidebar: Acknowledge your privilege. You can turn it off.
But the reason we can’t just get over it, whatever IT is, is because the past is today. It’s because being a black woman in America means that at any given moment a portion of your body can become unacceptable, too much, and ugly while it is lauded and applauded after someone else purchases it.
edit
.
I rated this book: * * * * *
A Return to Arms is the story of Toya a black lesbian activist trying to navigate her way through both life and the passages of the Black Lives Matter movement. Her life is a daily struggle of a young person trying to convince the rest of America that Black Lives Matter while attempting to convince the Organization, Rise Up of which she is an active member, that ALL Black Lives Matter. That women, queer people, children, men, single, straight, asexual, all of the intersections of Black Lives must Matter.
As Toya navigates her way through the rising tension and societal that arises after the killing of an unarmed teen by a police officer and the subsequent unrest she deals with the uncertainty of her relationship with another activist who believes that the cause must come before anything else, even her love life.
I hate spoilers so I hope you can get the gyst of the story from what I’ve written above but in two sentences: A Return To Arms is a love story, Love of self, love of community. And a story about the measures so many under represented activists go through to demand equality both in their communities and in the world.
I’m a Sheree L Greer stan. I LOVE everything she writes. I’m sharing that with full disclosure mostly because during a conversation with Sheree about why I don’t really like to review books by people I love, I worry that that love will interfere with me giving an honest unbiased review and she advised me to do the review as authentically as I could, “You call yourself Authentically Adrien be authentic.” Or something like that. Anyways, This book is phenomenal. It is her best work. It is the work that I sit back and wait patiently to be dissected by major blogs. It is the book that should land her on the New York Times Bestsellers List. (If it doesn’t you hating)
From the opening paragraph through the last sentence THE LAST SENTENCE I was hooked. I followed Toya’s story like my life depended on it possibly because I am Toya, Black, Queer, Woman, Activist. But also because Toya is so well written. I read somewhere once that an author’s job is to make you feel something and OH did we Feel something. We felt ALL the things. Including the music. I couldn’t quite pinpoint the words to the soundtrack of this book but I could feel the rhythm in the center of my back. I could sense the tempo under my palms as I inhaled this novel from tense movement to sexual moment to heartbreaking earth shattering moment.
I lived through these characters. I understood every single one of them and I even empathized for the characters that I hated. Sheree’s writing makes sure that you understand and relate to both antagonists and protagonists alike. It took me to the different settings and left me with vivid guttural images of the protest scenes. If you have never been to a rally you can officially make that claim after you read this book and I hope that it will help you to understand the importance of the Black Lives Matter movement if you don’t already.
Be prepared to have some interesting dialogue after you read this book and if you know Sheree personally and you text her in the middle of the night to say things like “Seriously? I hate that dude.” or “OH MY GOD.” Let her know that you didn’t get the idea to do so from me.
Purchase A Return to Arms Here.
Read more by/about Sheree L Greer Here.
I received this book to review in exchange for an advanced copy of the book. (Ya’ll know I like books!)
Reasons why you can’t solely depend on the education system (public or private) to educate your children:
People think the Black Panthers were an anti-white, racist, cop killing organization.
People are unaware that there is proof that the government was found guilty in civil court for the murder of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
People still think that Africa is a country.
#Get #In #Formation Google is practically free.
S/N: Black, white, or otherwise do your research and don’t comment craziness on my post.
AuthenticallyAdrien 