Breaking Up with Facebook

During Mardi Gras break of my junior year of college I was meandering down a street in the French Quater vastly underdressed for the weather and ran into one of my friends from high school. I'm sure we talked for a few minutes or so, but all I remember was her telling me to "facebook" her. I was pretty drunk and hadn't heard of facebook--this was like 6mos to a year after Zuckerberg had his techie aha moment in his dorm and facebook was only available on a few campuses then--so I dismissed what she told me until another friend later that night said the same thing. A few days later I Googled facebook, saw that LSU was indeed on the cool list and made my page. The snarky girl inside of me fell instantly in love with this online gossip mill that connected me to people I knew, kinda knew, wanted to know and had no inclination to get to know. Fast forward a couple of years and that same need to know has me wanting to run screaming from the site.

Just like any relationship, my relationship with facebook started out innocent enough and full of time spent swooning over the pages--and getting mine down to a science--when I should have been paying attention in class. Before high schoolers and randoms with an email address could join, the exclusivity of facebook meant that only my classmates, colleagues and actual friends could friend me. I was swept up in being connected to girls I'd lost touch with since graduating high school--I was living post-Katrina and needed that connection to home-- nd loved that I could make groups for classes, student organizations and my inner circle. It was like someone put together the best parts of AIM and myspace and left out the creepiness. Until it got creepy when some guy who was friends with all of my friends but had never seen me in real life decided to start chatting me up. (I knew that posting an actual picture of myself was a bad idea, which is why to this day I have my privacy on lock and rarely use pictures of myself as my profile picture.) It would have been all good if it stopped there but then this person told friends of friends that he waas in love with me--b*sh I don't know you--and all kinds of other weird stuff. But sadly, that was only the beginning of the creepy.

Eisenberg is a better Zuckerberg than Zuckerberg lol

Facebook grew,  and eventually let everyone and my mom join facebook as long as they had an active email account. My inbox flooded with friend requests from people I didn't know or want to know and my timeline began to fill up with images and topics that made me cringe. I don't care about your religious/political views, I wish you were acquainted with grammer, I don't want to see your baby baking or the meal you cooked, I am not donating to your cause, I don't live in your state to go to your event and in general I don't care...if I did I would call/text/email/write/smoke signal you. The red flags of the dangers of over sharing began to pop up and I stopped accepting friend requests from most people. Relationship turning sour, I began to plan my exit...which is exactly where this finds me. 

On one hand, I'm a blogger who is all over the internets and I love to shameless promote myself which is why I log on to facebook in the first place. On the other hand-- that would be my left hand--I do not like the superficial level of connectedness that it perpetuates. Just because we are fiends on facebook does not mean you know thing the first about my life--unless I'm an over sharer and in that case you know waaaaay too much. Seriously, my relationship status, posted pictures, links and quotes and my likes and dislikes aren't me. If you wanted to know me, and more importantly I wanted to know you, we would actually talk...like on the phone. The connection that you have with me online is not only superficial but contrived by me to sell whatever I'm selling just like you're selling whatever you're selling. Sadly, 80% of my "friends" on facebook are selling things that I would never buy. All of this leaves me feeling both torn and confused, facebook helps contribute to my profile online and my side hustle but it grosses me out...much like a boyfriend that you've outgrown that you love because he's comfy and familiar but since he let himself go and started acting like a major douche you can't bring yourself to kiss him let alone practice making babies with him. 

While I haven't had the "it's not you, it's me" talk with FB just yet, I know its coming. Especially since all those food and fetus pics make me want to gag, and the thought of people that I would avoid at all costs in real life knowing my life bothers the heck out me--that's the reason I rarely post anything personal that and the fact that both of my parents and several aunts, uncles and cousins are my "friends" now and most of them would flip their shit if they knew how I felt about God, politics, music, art, movies, men and pretty much everything else.



 
John Legend - I Used To Love You by mgl_la

Shake It Out

You know I love me some Flo + The Machine but this isn't about her song, it's about me saying a few things that I'm sure 99% of America--well 99% of the people in America that know me--would never know about me in a million years. Getting this stuff out isn't about you feeling sorry for me or anything, I'm too old for your pity give it to Eden Wood, it's about putting what's real and true out there. So here goes....

5 Things You Wouldn't Guess About Me From Looking.

5. I'm a socially awkward snob.

4.  Guys do not ask me out, aside from creepers who ask everyone out. Seriously, my ex was the only non-creepy guy who asked me out in 5 years of living in Atlanta and that scares the hell out of me 95% of the time.

3. I work in fashion so I have a million and one better things I would love to discuss that have nothing to do with fashion...like quantum physics.

2. My spirit animal is a combination of Zooey Deschanel, Witch Baby and a mama wolf.

1. I like my men smarter than I am and just as socially awkward. Maybe I should start hanging out at Tech...

There's a few things I'm leaving out but I'm not ready to go there...yet.

You Look Like You Read Books...

My younger brother is 6 years younger than I am, that means that for 6 years I perfected the art of hanging with solo. I spent hours in my room letting my imagination run wild after throughly nurturing it with every word that I could pronounce on my own in every book that I owned--which was a heck of a lot considering that most children under 10 aren't usually prolific readers. By the time my brother arrived I was starved for a playmate--not that I didn't have friends I was just a little kid and little kids don't ever have tons of friends--but I only wanted a playmate who, like my imaginary friends, also loved to read, paint and play games based on the stories I read. Yeah, I love my brother but we do not share the same passion for the written word.

By the time I entered middle school the characters in my books had become my best and most trusted friends, as evidenced by my bookshelf beginning to sag under the weight of 11+ years of books. I'd added two encyclopedias--that's Wikipedia's grandma for you whipper snappers,The Boxcar Children, Witch Baby--I think I read that so many times the cover fell off--R.L. Stein's Goosebumps, and the ultimate "I was an adolescent girl in the 90's" identifier,  The Babysitter's Club--Claudia and Stacey aka Anastasia McGill were my faves. It was also right around that same time that I my love affair with glossies lik Seventeen, Sassy, YM (Young & Modern), COSMOgirl and Jump began, but that's another blog post. 

 

Things got rocky as I began to transition from childhood to whatever the hell you call being a teenager. My grandma died, my childhood home flooded and my parents got divorced but my books were still there ready to help me escape the hell of being a 12 year old black girl who could quote Clueless verbatim, openly loved Alains Morrisette and Nirvana, had her first celeb crushes on Elijah Wood and Leonardo DiCaprio and wanted to be a VJ/actress/model/writer/slash in New Orleans. (For those of you who don't get how hellish this could be all I have to say is it was not pretty being in a group of people who looked like me but didn't accept me because I wasn't a stereotype. Those girls are now knocked up and/or married, doing God knows what and couldn't dream of squeezing into their prom dresses while I'm still a size 4 with no baby daddy drama and I'm some kind of writer.) What was I saying again? Oh right, my books pretty much got me from 6th grade to high school, where I began to pretty much stick to assigned reading materials and Cosmopolitan. 

After high school life went from cheerleading, homework and boys to partying, homework, boys and more boys--I'm the first to admit that I was a bit boy crazed up until about 21 or so. My books didn't really fit in with my schedule but that doesn't mean I didn't read, it just means I'm not really 100 on what I was reading. I still spent hours in Barnes and Nobles between classes and loved walking into the library just for the smell of it, I just didn't have time to forge many new friendships with Tolkien's characters until I graduated and moved to Atlanta where I didn't know anyone. My first summer here I read the entire Harry Potter series in reverse order and then moved on to Twilight (let down)....Then I fell in love with my very own Edward Cullen who left me in the woods like Bella after almost 3  beautiful years.

Now, post breakup, the books are back again but these aren't the books of my childhood. My new bookshelf houses hardcopies of Harry Potter 1-7, the Twilight Saga, a bunch of chick lit and reference guides and my newest addiction self help/spirituality tomes. Girls, getting broken up with does some strange things to you. I've seen girls become whores, crack addicts, crack addicted whores, lesbians, crack addicted lesbian whores, workaholics and only God knows what else after having their heart really broken, it either brings out the best or the worst in you. I didn't go the crack addicted, workaholic slore route, instead I took a break from writing and became a full on student of now age spirituality, see DharmaAndTheCity.

The point is, my books have been the one security blanket that got me through life. They never bore the hell out of you, whine about anything and always provide the perfect escape when the going gets tough without the lows of alcohol and coming down off of a drug/sex/chocolate binge. So I'm beyond ecstatic that one of my former co-workers took one look at me (and my FBF) and said "You look like you read." I mean what is the alternative, looking like you're illiterate?

Check Out My New Baby!!

So being a complete eff it let's go type of girl, I took a little dream I had for starting a blog dedicated to merging my love of pop culture and awakening my spiritual side and did the dang thang! And guess what? This is the easiest blog I've started, ever! So check out Dharma And The City and tell me what you think. xo

Fashion Meets Music: Marry The Night

*Another MISS exclusive for you, check it and the amazing images as laid out by C_Rocka at Fashion Meets Music: Lady Gaga Marry The Night.


After splitting with her creative director of four years, Laurieann “Boomkat” Gibson, Mama Monster has taken the reigns and delivered a music video wrapped in a 14 minute short film. With less than subtle nods to “Fame,” “Black Swan,” “Desperately Seeking Susan” and a touch of “The Bell Jar,” this somewhat dark trip into the recesses of Gaga’s mind is worth the 14 minutes just to hear her muse on BeDazzlers and next season’s Calvin Klein.


According to the lady herself, “Marry The Night” depicts the worst day in her life. If the worst day in her life included well phrased monologues, custom Giuseppe Zanotti shoes, break downs in Manhattan lofts, mint hair dye and blowing up cars in over the knee Christian Louboutin boots, I’d gladly trade. Of course like she says at the beginning as she’s being wheeled to a room in a psych ward after an undisclosed operation, this is her version of the truth which is more true than the actual truth. Whatever break down that lead to Stefani becoming Gaga was devoid of the sick clothes, amazing choreography, over the top imagery and hard hitting sounds that we see in “Marry The Night,” but it undoubtedly lead to it.

Break down over and done, the beauty in “Marry The Night” is not just the metaphor laden overarching theme but the clothes of course–I mean seriously, it IS Gaga. From the moment we see a barely conscious Mama Monster being wheeled down the hall by two hot nurses in sterile white dresses with sick white heels and mint hair nets, we know this is a Gaga production. Fast forward to a newly released Gaga losing her mind in her studio, bathing in honey nut Cheerios and dying her hair mint green as she sings the opening lines of “Marry the Night” in her bathtub wearing, as we see later, nothing but a pair of sparkly platforms. She has her Madonna moment in BeDazzled denim and a pair of awesome custom shades, and slides into the roof of a car in a black pleather outfit that is equal parts Batgirl and dominatrix. Through the quick flashes of the moments leading up to her break down we get glimpses of a pre-meat dress Gaga circa The Fame. While I loved every outfit from beginning to end the most beautiful, and wearable ones, were worn by the nurses as they wheeled our little “morphine princess” back to reality.


Whatever you think about Gaga, her backstory or her abilities as a director, you have to admit that the girl is smart. I mean only someone with a mind full of references addled by self induced trauma could come up with such a fitting homage to the struggles of fame and reinvention,  and everyone’s favorite city all while wearing heels so high that falling off of them would break a major bone.

Give It to Me...Now!

*This is a MISS exclusive, featuring me tapping into my inner Veruca and demanding asking for some lovely Christmas gifts. View it in its original format at What I Want for the Holidays 2011: Anastasia. 

It’s the holidays again and you know what that means: family is driving you bananas, the mall is crowded as hell and it’s time to get your wish lists in order to ensure that you don’t end up with leaping lords, milking maids and water fowl under your tree on Christmas day. As a “grown up,” my Christmas list usually begins with requests to pay off my student loans, pay off one of my credit cards or a brand new car, and eventually ends with things my parents, friends and boo can buy without taking out loans to do so. This year, after a rocky past few months, I’ve decided to keep it relatively simple and only ask for stuff I’ll actually use and get, not that I wouldn’t be happy with something not on the list that is green and can be used to buy whatever I want. However, I have a few people in my life who are bad gift givers–daddy–and need to use this as a visual aid to find the present that will guarantee I don’t go all Veruca Salt on Christmas day.

1. Carrie’s Lost Choo aka Jimmy Choo’s Marlene Sandal- I’ve always had a thing for shoes, my friends can tell you that in college they watched me work up the shoe ladder from Steve Madden, Nine West and Aldo to Calvin Klein, BCBG and Michael Kors so it was inevitable that Choo would be my next step. While other girls are eying practical red bottom shoes just to say they have a pair of Louboutin’s, I’m embracing my inner Bradshaw and going for Carrie’s iconic Marlene sandal. At $1995 these violet platform sandals with hand-applied feathers and crystals may be more of a shoe dream than a reality, but you can’t knock a girl for asking.

2. Rebecca Minkoff Snake Stamped Metallic Leather Laptop Case- Last Christmas, in addition to boots on boots on boots, I got the most amazing grown up life present ever: a 15″ Macbook Pro. She’s a life saver and my best friend, unfortunately she’s a bit smaller than my old Toshiba and doesn’t have a laptop case to call her own. Sooo…she needs this more than I do. I mean my Mac is a fly chick and deserves a fly place to sleep when she isn’t busy hanging out in coffee shops, on my coffee table or working her tush off.

3. Spiritual Gangster Limited Edition Guru Yoga Mat- On top of being a bomb dot com writer and fashion addict I’m also a huge spiritual gangster and in love with yoga–although I’m just getting back into it after a brief hiatus that has lasted several years. To get back in my yoga groove I need a new mat–I had crawfish and beer on my last one years ago and ruined it–and this one is certified gangster, like listening to Jay Z while reading Deepak Chopra and retweeting @UncleRush kinda gangster.

4. Vitamix Blender- With the call back to my yoga mat finally being answered, my body is now calling out for a break from pizza, tacos, burgers and all the other junk I feed my body. The best way for me to get my body back on track is to blend and the best bet in the blender department is the Vitamix. It blends smoothies, frozen big-girl beverages and juices, which is the real reason I want it since buying fresh juice from Whole Foods is a good way to be healthy and poor.

5. Tiny Devotions Transition Mala- Part two of my spiritual gangster path brings us to my mala, aka prayer beads. This particular set is made with labrodorite and amethyst and is supposed to protect you during vulnerable growth stages and add a little peace and tranquility to your life and outfit. With a big move from the dirty south to the big apple looming on my horizon, I figure I can use all of the protection, peace and tranquility that I can get.

Remember, ’tis the season for giving, gathering, and being grateful so keep your head up and pass those unwanted fruitcakes my way, because I’m strange and I actually like fruitcakes. Happy Holidays y’all! 

Things That Made Me Smile

*Free round at Escorpion!! * Dinner with the gals at Cafe Circa * Running into Valerie...which started out awkward got super cool the awkward the ended well * Working with my fave coworkers * BISTRO FRIES!! * Sparks everywhere * Me time * You time * Time with my gals * Red, red wine * Finally getting paid for my hard work, at the j-o-b and as a freelancer * Hanging with Meg Reggie, Caren West (for 2 minutes), Robanne and of course, Go Kindra, Go Kindra at Escorpion * SuperSoul Sunday brunch * Free pralines * FINALLY FINDING JEZEBEL"S NOVEMBER ISSUE ON NEWSSTANDS (sorry the photo is crooked, tilt your head) *11:11 * Nails did!!! *Getting off of work the day before Thanksgiving....in retail...so I can have more time to write * Synchronicity * Ego Warriors * Pancakes * HUGS!!! *

Can't wait to see what things I'll be grateful for this week!