Wednesday, December 31, 2008

It All Falls Down

New Years Eve is irrelevant in my life. I could care less that when the clock strikes 12 a new year will be here and everybody can supposedly start fresh. I may have been a Thanksgiving Grinch, but I swear I'm not for this holiday.

December 31, 2005 just happens to be the day I woke up...couldn't feel my knees...collapsed...couldn't walk for a few months...temporarily lost my put on a bunch of meds (with crazy side effects) I didn't need...yada yada ya.

This day has a new significance in my life. On January 1st, 2006 I wasn't celebrating the coming of a new year. I was in Atlanta with swollen joints, scared as hell, worried about the future, and in tons of pain. Not much of a holiday is it?

I've been negatively affected by that day for exactly three years. Today I am putting a stop to it. On the day everything started, I am choosing to end it. Instead of waking up as I did January 1st, 2006, I will wake up refreshed and thankful for everything. I will feel optimistic, I'll know God hasn't forgotten about me, and I'm officially closing that chapter of my life. The dark ages are now over.

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Busy Busy Busy!

Good lord I've been busy with this book and my company. There's so much to do and so little time. I think of all types of wonderfully deep and enlightening blog posts to put up, but every time I open my computer...I work!! I've never been happier or felt more fulfilled. I know that I am doing exactly what God intended me to do and it feels great.

This book began as some crazy idea. Hell, I don't even know what I was thinking when I grabbed my 5 Star Lil' Fat Notebook and furiously scribbled random topics having to do with college. I managed to save that notebook for two years until I finally decided to do something with it. Initially, I figured it'd be my hustle. I'd have bragging rights as an author and make some money on the side. It soon turned into a personal mission and is now the final step in my healing.

Once I officially make the book available for sale, my healing will be complete. I will be able to close that chapter of my life and move onto the next. I'm not overwhelmed, but I'm too excited to dedicate my time to just one thing. It's like reading your favorite novel then trying to read as fast as you can once you get to the end. You just want to finish, and you want to see what happens next.

I've been designing a flash website for my company (Noteworthy by Jaz), editing/formatting & promoting the book, and getting ready for my big move back to Atlanta. People tell me they wish they had my drive. I ask them why they feel they don't already have it? I am nothing but a big ol ball of pure passion. My struggle means nothing if I don't pull from it to grow.

I'm going to end this with a short paragraph/story I had to put together durring a training class at my job. I had to use the words: persevere, optimstic, opportunity, curiosity, challenge

"I've been faced wth many life challenges I've had to persevere through. My faith in God keeps me optimistic as I turn setbacks into opportunities. My curiosity keeps m wondering and exploring options of things to come. I am oh so very Flyy!"

Friday, December 26, 2008

Photo Shoot!!!!!

Show your support!!!

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Hello My Name Is: Mr. FukyAfeELiNgS!

I'm not sure if it's because I'm sick and my Aunty Patty is visiting, but this weekend Mr. FukyAFeELiNgS! ran rampant in my life. Without going into details, Mr. FukyAFeELiNgS! possessed three pivotal individuals in my life. Usually I can handle Mr. FukyAFeELiNgS! with style and grace, but this visit is different. The book comes with its fair share of stress, and I've worn my body down. Working 40hrs a week then writing at night is starting to take it's toll.

The funny thing about Mr. FukyAFeELiNgS! is, he only seems to appear when you are trying to make moves in life. He targets whatever area in your life, in whatever way he can, to truly leave you feeling fucked. If you don't identify him early on, he can really do some emotional harm.

Mr. FukyAFeELiNgS! is a sneaky critter, and his tactics are always effective. Even when the damage is undone (or actually harmless), the damage he does on your feelings will last for quite a while. Feelings are fragile, and don't easily heal like wounds. They are complicated and never seem to respond to the messages your brain sends them.

Congratulations Mr. FukyAFeELiNgS!, you've won this round, but I'm not down and out yet. I know I'll be seeing you sooner than later, and I have a feeling you'll actually be in town for a while. Your visits only mean that I'm doing something right in life so I'll holla at you boo!

Saturday, December 20, 2008

And the Rapper Says Thank You...

I'm not the one to cry. I'm not even the one to really get choked up over anything. At times I even think it takes an onion just to remind me that my tear ducts actually work. Don't ask me how it happened, but ya girl actually got a bit choked up on my way to work this morning.

While listening to Jazmine Sullivan sing about falling in love with another man, everything just hit me at once. I could suddenly hear Darwin telling me that I needed to get ready to write my autobiography because I was gonna be somebody important. I suddenly felt a sense that I was on the edge overlooking something big that I was about to walk into with all the confidence in the world.

I stated it first in my Dear Hater letter. I am motivated by haters. They are my fuel. The hater fueling my writing career is the very first hater I ever had. It was the asshole at The Call Newspaper who misquoted me when I almost had a children's book published in elementary school. He flipped my words and quoted me as saying that the writing part was hard but the illustrations were fun and easy. Hell, the illustrations were the hard part! I couldn't draw for shit so I used various types of paper and cut out little shapes to piece my drawings together. It took forever!!!!!

Making matters worse, he said that my early success would most likely not lead to anything. Who the hell was he to announce to the world that there was a slim to none chance I'd actually get anywhere where this writing thing?! If I wasn't so upset at being misquoted, I really could have gotten discouraged by his remark. I still have the newspaper clipping and am hell bent on stalking him and sending him a copy of the article along with other articles I've had published writing BY me in a newspaper 100x bigger than the one he wrote for. I also plan to send it with a copy of the book, and an article about my book.

He popped my Hater Cherry!

The feeling I felt in the car was so much deeper than the satisfaction of showing somebody up that worked against me in life. I felt a sense of purpose. Like everything in my life had built up to this very moment. To this book. If I would have never gone through the things I had gone through....If I had never met the people I had met.....If I had never made the decisions I made (good and bad)....this book would have never come to be.

I just really took time to thank God for everything. I finally understood why so many rappers thank God despite their often unruly lyrics. God truly takes you as you are. The more messed up you are, the more he can do with you. God changes you, but he does not change who YOU are. Those rappers realize that they got where they are because of Him even if the general public doesn't know their full story. The same applies with me. I look back over my life, and realized it was nothing but God.

I feel like I'm sitting on a best seller. I stand behind my book 100% and am fully prepared to throw every resource I have into this to see it through. I know if I put in the hard work, God will carry it to where it needs to be. He's gonna open the doors and I just have to have enough stamina to walk through them. I feel like I am beginning to fulfill the prophecy a man told me after praying for me. I just feel it in the very depths of my soul that I am somebody important at this very moment...

....Even if the world doesn't know it yet.

Friday, December 19, 2008

Disappearing Act

Call me Carmen Sandiego, cuz unless you are a super sleuth, you won't find me! I'm somewhere between Kansas or Missouri taking care of business. Don't bother sending me Facebook event invites. Don't ask me to come visit. Don't expect me to sit on the phone with you. I have shit to do! My book, "The Miseducation of an Urban Nerd" is almost complete. Everything is coming down to the wire, and I'm FOCUSED MAN!! I'm making the announcements in this blog before I pass them on to the rest of the world.

December 23rd & 27th - Photoshoot for the book
January 31st - Book will be available for sale on in both Paperback & Ebook
March 15th - will be live!
March 31st - Book will be availbe for sale on:
  • Bookstores can purchase from Ingram
  • Listed in Bawkers Books in Print
I will also be starting an additional blog! I will be attempting to keep this wonderfly juicy, opinionated, and sexily writen piece of art under wraps for a while. I'm not ashamed of it by any means. Hell, it wouldn't be on the Internet if I was. It's just that the website will be extremely business oriented, and this blog isn't. The second blog will be hosted on WordPress and will be accessable from my website. It will be more motivationally oriented, PG, and will mostly give updates on what's going on with the business and the book.

Make sure and follow that one too, but keep it locked here for all the good stuff! We'll see how long this lasts. Sooner or later, the two blogs will be linked, but I'm not ready for all of that. That blog is work, this blog is play.

If you are on Facebook then join the global group: The Miseducation of an Urban Nerd
Show your support!!!!

Monday, December 15, 2008

A Hustler's Ambition

It's another one of those nights where my brain won't shut off. One idea gives way to the next, which leads to another, until I get no rest. I have A Hustler's Ambition. The nerdy part of me advocates sleep. Sleep is my body's way of resting and resetting. The hustler in me says, "Hell No!" In a state of temporary unconscious rest, I won't be able to brainstorm. I loose 8 hours of thoughts. Who knows what great thoughts I coulda thunk up.

Is my fear unnatural? Possibly. When I told the docs how my brain works, they put me on meds for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I really thought I was messed up til I got to see Diddy in action. If little sleep will turn me into a mogul, I'm with it. I'm down for the cause. I'm creating imaginary picket signs and directing supporters to man the lines surrounding my pillow.

Picket signs may be a tad too extreme, but you get the point.

A true Hustler's Ambition is to be at the top of your game at all times. For me that means being well rested so I can have a successful day at my 9-5. A successful day there gives me the resources to fund my hustle ("The Miseducation of an Urban Nerd").

In actuality, sleep is my hustle. It's nothing to fear. Usually I say, "I can sleep when I'm dead. If a lack of sleep shortens my life, at least you'll know I lived every minute of it!"

I'm still shoutin it, but my employed ass needs to keep it that way. Time to count sheep. I'm sleep.

Friday, December 12, 2008

The Biggest Snitch of Them All

The issue of 'Snitching' is a curious phenomenon. It's like a buncha people took what their mama's told them about Tattle Tellin' and ran with it. See Tattle Tellin' meant you don't go run and tell that your little bro is doing backflips off the bed. It means you don't run and tell your boss that your coworker was on MySpace during company time. Tattle Tellin' is divulging some unnecessary info that doesn't have shit to do with your lil nosy ass! Snitchin' shoulda been the same thing.

Over time, words start to sound dated and get replaced.
  • Solid = I Feel You
  • Groovy = Cool
  • Loose = Hoe
  • Sike! = Gotcha Bitch!
The act of Snitchin' should have been one of these terms. A Tattler Tells, a Snitch Snitches. This should have been an easy transition. I just don't see what went wrong. All of a sudden, telling the police you witnessed a murder is Snitchin'. Family members who saw first hand the death of their loved one are labeled as Snitches if they go to the authorities. That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard of. This whole "Stop Snitchin" movement needs to stop. Hell, this isn't even what I meant to write this post about.
...Now To Expose the Real Snitch!...
Now that I've clearly defined what Snitchin' is...let me inform you of the biggest snitch of them all. Ringtones. Yes, I said it...RINGTONES.

Today at work, I forgot to silence my phone. "Brown Eyes" by Destiny's Child began to play. My business was suddenly all out in the street. My phone snitched on me. Not only was it clear that a man was calling, but also a man who I had some strong feelings for. Slowly my mind drifted onto the other ringtones that could possibly put me on blast. I have reasons for each one, but the world doesn't know the story behind them. Half the time, I don't even want the person to know the meaning.

The list grows weekly, but here's a list of what I have right now & the meanings a stranger could pull from them:
  1. "Brown Eyes" by Destiny's Child - This person loves me
  2. "Cater To You" by Beyonce (ft. Destiny's Child lol) - I want to cater to this person
  3. "Caught Out There" by Kelis - I strongly dislike this person
  4. "Coldest Winter" by Kanye - I'm heartbroken
  5. "Daddy" by Beyonce - I love my daddy
  6. "Hi Hater" by Maino - This person is a hater
  7. "I Kissed a Girl" by Katy Perry - I'm a lesbian/bisexual and have kissed a woman
  8. "Pimp Like Me" by Twista - I feel like a pimp or I am pimpin' this person
  9. "So What" by Pink - Hell if I know....
  10. "Still I Rise" by Nicki Minaj - Hell if I know...
Some of these meanings are true, but others are waaaaay off!!! Not only do ringtones Snitch on you, but they can possibly Snitch and tell the wrong stuff. Nothing is worse than a lyin' Snitch. Fuck it tho...I like to Jam! For now I'll let the biggest Snitch keep Snitchin'. I'm just trying to get the word out.

Ringtones: The Biggest Snitch of Them All

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Prying Eyes

Nothing aggravates me more than a person so bored with their own life that they seek entertainment by closely monitoring yours. One of my good friends has this quote. "If it doesn't stop your paycheck from coming, why are you worried?"

My sentiments exactly.

For my avid blog followers, you know that I don't hold back. My blog is balls-to-the-wall and I allow you to explore my inner most workings as I chronicle my life as a supaflyy lady. If you aren't satisfied with the information I am willing to divulge in my blog, then you are just one nosy, extremely boring, lil' shit wad. I understand your life may be boring, and mine may intrigue you enough to want to know more. Trust me, there's a reason why all facts of my life aren't posted on here.
If your prying ass can't get that through your head & feel you are entitled (for no particular reason) to know every juicy detail about me (such as who I'm sex'N), you need to seek therapy.
  • VH1 has not done a special on me
  • You did not see my face on E!
  • I was not featured on the cover of The National Inquirer
I'm not saying I'm not a big deal, because I am kinda a big deal (haha!'s a joke, lighten up). All I'm saying is, there are people who live way more interesting lives than me. Your nosy ass needs to subscribe to a tabloid magazine and get the hell outta my face.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

The State of the Black Woman pt. 2

I went ahead and posted this piece to You Tube
This is the version I edited for Brittany's time limit & will probably chop on it a bit more
It speaks truth.

Saturday, December 6, 2008

Gotcha Bitch!

I actually thought I found a Perfect Man (PM). His stats were ridiculously amazing. His body was amazing. Hell, he seemed amazing. On the surface, his statistics would have made any human with ovaries cream until they drowned in their own wetness and turned into a pile of horny mush. Once I dug a bit deeper, it seemed like somebody was playing some cruel practical joke on me. Every woman has this list of conflicting characteristics they want their PM to have. Well, this one had nearly all of 'em. I half expected somebody to jump out and say, "Aha! Gotcha Bitch!" This shit was just to good to be true.

Well, "Aha! Gotcha Bitch!"

There is no such thing as a PM. He simply doesn't exist. Everything may seem great, but the deeper you dig, the more likely you are to hit a gas line. Once you realize a gas line is present, you can take precautionary measures and find new land to dig up or you can be a dumb ass and keep digging until shit explodes. I choose to walk away.

I live to dig another day. 

Friday, December 5, 2008

The State of the Black Woman

On account of my Haunted Vagina,
I pretty much quit writing poetry and spoken word pieces
My long time friend (elementary school ya'll) needed help with her talent for the
Miss Black & Gold pageant taking place at the University of Kansas
so I told that ghost to get the hell out!
This is the result...

"The State of Black Women"

Phenomenal like Maya Angelou phenomenal
I'm Phenomenal

Phenomenal like I'm one of those rare women who recognize that I have generations of ingenuity, persistence, determination, and the resilience of those who've gone before me - running through my veins

I'm Phenomenal

I respect that women have already paved the way and all I have to do is walk straight.
I have sense enough not to deviate.

I'm trying to tell ya'll - I'm Phenomenal

Phenomenal women set the standard

We are the standard
We over achieve the standard
We make the mold of the well-rounded woman then break it so that we ourselves can become the upgraded version

We are the prototype of the desired friend, sister, wife, confidant, scholar, athlete, corporate woman, entrepreneur, entertainer, and leader

We are second to none
Surpassed by none
And by the time anyone comes remotely close to outshining us...
Their bulb has already gone dim


But where are we?

I mean,
I'm phenomenal and I know you see me
But ME aint WE
Where have all the phenomenal women gone?

Black women like to complain about Black men not being men

Let's see...
Down Low
Dead before twenty-three

Sounds like an endangered species to me

Do these over analyzing women ever take the time to evaluate their own diminished numbers of phenomenalisim?

I think not.

They strip themselves of the title every time they drop it like it's hot to a jam that refers to them as...Well...I don't need to go there
My message is typical.

But if it's so typical, why is it that there has only been one nationally publicized stand?

It took place when Spelman banned Nelly

Did you even hear about it?
Did you even care?

(We Failed)

By not recognizing our beauty and self-worth, we've allowed outside sources to define it for us.
Instead of building each other up - we knock each other down
Instead of getting love from our sistahs - We choose to self-destruct as we seek to fill voids

We become groupies or waste deep in debt as we search for solace in material possessions.
We ditch our pinstripe suits for outfits so skimpy we make hairless chihuahuas look furry.
All in an attempt to attract a man to fill the void of an absent father.

We've got to do better

We let 'em Raw Dawg and end up with babies.
"It's No Fun If His Friend Can't Have Sum!"
So we end up on Maury
Got five men on stage, convinced the sixth just gotta be it
"Yea, I know he's it."

Baby got the same curve in the pinky toe
And if you squint your right eye
And stand on one leg
And lean to the left
I'd be DAMMED if they don't look the same!

I'm sayin...

Where have all the phenomenal women gone?
Where are the women of the 90s who were so independent, they refused to support a man who couldn't do the same?
When did women stop learning how to be women and think just cuz they got that good good and can throw down on a box of Hamburger Helper, they deserve to be wifey?

What qualified these underqualiied women to insist there are no good men worthy of marrying, when they didn't check themselves in the mirror?

What are you bringing to the table?

What happened to class and elegance?

When did we become so jaded that issues like domestic violence failed to evoke emotions and a deep desire within us to change?

It's not the Black man that's endangered.
It's us.
This is the State of the Black Woman
This is what we have come to be
As for me...
I'm phenomenal

-Jasmine D. Taylor (Jaz)

For my sis Brittany Ersery. Love you girl!

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Find A Way or Make One

I've been knocked on my ass for the last time. As I expected, my body has readjusted its settings to transition into a mindset of a fighter. It's well into the wee hours in the morning and I managed to pull myself off of the computer, only to pick up my phone to write this post. One of Clark Atlanta University's motto is "Find A Way or Make One." I used to live by that. When you need a solid solution to a problem, you'll find yourself digging into the inner depths of you just to figure out every possible option. I remember watching this Whoopi Goldberg movie, where she kept a box of ideas her boss rejected. In a clutch she pulled them out when she was running her own business and didn't need the approval of her boss. I'm in a clutch, and damn right I'm taking it there.

VIA Sister Paterson's request, I'll soon be finding an alternative place to live. I found the perfect studio apartment, but events leading up to the eventual foreclosure of my home have left me with less than desirable credit. I want this place, and I will try hard to get it even if my cosigner doesn't get approved. 

My first taste of making my own way was when I realized that if I could drop $2,000 to pay the lease in full, I wouldn't need a cosigner. I don't know how the hell that's gonna happen, but it got the ball rolling. I immediately updated my craigslist ads selling my stove and advertising my writing/editing services. Then I priced other things to sell. From there, I got proactive and brushed the cobwebs from my Elance profile and submitted proposals for a few projects. Elance limits me to 3 free proposals/mo so I began exploring other options. I checked the "writing gigs" in Kansas City's craigslist. After realizing that I provide virtual services, I moved on to Atlanta's craigslist, then Austin's, and on down the list until I pulled myself off of the computer.

Her Royal Flyyness is back!

I remember when one of my big sisters taught me how to properly fight in school while getting in as little trouble as possible. She told me never hit first. If you hit first then you started the fight, and you would be the one to get in the most trouble. I later learned that if you don't hit first, you run the possibility of getting knocked the fuck out of giving that bitch the upper-hand. You also have to show moxy to be that first hitter. You are officially writing a check that your ass better be able to cash. That takes guts. Hell, even if you loose, at least you had the balls to try.

That's how I'm feeling now. My balls are full grown and I'm hitting life first before it can get me. I've adopted this new game plan and my body knows it. That's why I'm still awake at 4am. If I sleep, I'll dream. I don't feel like dreaming. I already have a dream. Right now it's time to brainstorm and act so I can achieve my dream.

God forbid I don't get this apartment, I'll be fine. I have a plan B, C & D. Yet and still, I have life by the balls...fingernails gripped in...twisting. Life's a bitch. Treat her as such and run that shit!

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

We Wear the Mask

Sister Paterson really went and did it this time. She delivered that final knife in my chest and proceeded to twist it, but I didn't cry out in pain. I've learned to carefully disguise my emotions. She'll see just enough to think something is going on, but will never know the true extent. I won't give her the satisfaction.
As Paul Laurence Dunbar says, I Wear The Mask.

We Wear the Mask
by Paul Laurence Dunbar

We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,­-
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream other-wise,
We wear the mask!