A Bad Day

I make it a personal goal not to let the world break me, but I feel damn close to broken right now.

Let's start with the minor things and build up to the coup d'état. So a few months ago, I bought a new computer. It's a real beauty. Dual DVI-D monitors. Dual core processor. Windows Vista Ultimate. DVD burner with LightScribe technology. 500 GB hard drive. Aaaaaand TV Tuner. Well, I love all the features and I use the TV tuner every night. I watch the news or cartoons to go to sleep. That was all well and good until the TV tuner stopped working two days ago. Well, the tuner didn't stop working, but the software which accessed it stopped working and I can't figure outhow to fix it. Minor, but an annoyance nonetheless, particularly given that I paid 2K for the computer.

Next, my job is prone to give me overtime. And lots of it. But luckily I only have 24 hours of overtime in this pay period. And it works out well, because a friend of mine lives near my job and has no problem picking me up at midnight and dropping me off. Also, one of my boys gets off at 10:30 most nights, so he doesn't have a problem with picking me up at midnight either. And most of the time, I treat him to a late night breakfast for his trouble. Great. So last night, I saw him and he told me he was going to pick me up tonight from work. Well, I called him at 11...no answer. 11:10....no answer. 11:30...no answer. 11:40...no answer. And, as we approached midnight, I called with greater frequency, because I KNEW he wouldn't leave me stranded. Well, I knew wrong. As it stands, it's 1:12 and he has still yet to call me. Luckily the first friend I mentioned picked me up. I had to call her 4 times before she picked up, but it's nice to know who's down for you when you're in a jam.

And now the coup d'état , so the great guy I mentioned in the last post...well, tonight he told me why he can't be my boo. He was being super secretive and kept saying that he couldn't even bare to say it, so I assumed it was something related to HIV/AIDS. I was all ready to tell him about how that doesn't matter to me and how that doesn't change what I think about him. And he stopped me. Apparently, I was on the wrong track. So I asked him to clarify. Well, he had said "I'm sorry, but I've become another statistic." Well, apparently, he wasn't referring to national statistics. He was referring to stats very specific to my life. Nearly every man I find who likes me genuinely and who I actually like in return leaves me for his ex. Well, now this guy has joined the crew. Apparently, he and his ex had a rekindling a few weeks ago and thus, I was dropped like a bad habit. Long story short, I cried and I cried hard. Truth be told, I'm still crying. It hurts very deeply, not only because he was an amazing guy, but also because I'm so tired of living the same tragic story over and over again.

Wow, life sucks right now.

I Need a Caribbean!

See, I'm back to the same old shit again. Single than a motherfucker. Now I could write this poetically, but I think I'm just going to vent.

So...I met this guy. He was great. Light-skinned, 6'2, beautiful smile, great conversation, great hugs, kept me smiling, liked to eat, loved Jamba Juice, was easy to please, was eager to please, etc. Then he realized I was boyfriend material and dropped me like a bad habit, because he wasn't prepared to be that for me.

(Now I'm about to make an irrational jump.) This is why I hate American men. I never had these kinds of problems when I dated Caribbean men. They couldn't get enough of me. Hell, my last boyfriend was Jamaican and we've been broken up for a year now, and he STILL calls with occasional sweet nothings so I can know I still mean something to him. The West Indian cats that I've dated have just been different from the American guys. However, this perspective might just be the result of my current anger.

So...What Are You?

"So...what are you?"

That's the first question whenever somebody realizes that I'm a Black man with definite plans for bettering the current state of the race. And then I have to answer, "You mean Greek affiliation? Oh, I'm not Greek." Then they give me the WTF face, as to say "Why would a Black man who is interested in bettering the race and who is supposedly motivated not join a Black Greek Letter Organization?" That shit is tiresome.

I mean, I guess I understand on some level, but it's still a question I'm tired of answering. Indeed it is the case that a great number of well-to-do Black men who have attended college tend to be Greek. Dr. King was a member of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. Both Michael Jordan and Shaq are members of Omega Psi Phi. Stokely Carmichael was a Sigma. Cedric the Entertainer is a member of Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity, Inc. Cornel West is an Alpha (tho he is technically an honorary member of Alpha Phi Alpha rather than a person who actively joined). So, yes, a lot of great, influential, and/or well-known Black men are Greek. Therefore I understand the assumption and surprise, but it just gets kind of annoying after the third or fourth person asks.

Since I started my new job, I've been asked that no less than 10 times by various staff and trainers, only 2 of which were Greek themselves. I think it's done now though. :-D