Haze

I've written this posting at least seven times in my head today. But the haze is so thick round these parts, I think it has contributed to my apathy all day.

Whereas yesterday was mildly productive, today has been a lesson in slothfulness. I was hoping to continue the same pace so I could get some things done. It's not too much of a loss though. I still did manage to get the last couple loads of laundry in. Many blogs remain unwritten and files are still not where I'd like them to be on my computer. No big deal though.

As I was sitting on the porch, doing what people on porches do, my mind started to wander. I recently read an old blog posting post by this underground soul singer about the change in Catholic doctrine about children and limbo. I guess limbo as defined by the church is being in a state of complete contentedness but never having any communion with God. I started to wonder if I was in limbo, like if I'm having true communion with God. I mean He's been answering prayers left and right, but maybe it's to keep me close enough so that I can make that final dive into Him.

So I'm listening to the iPod and I ask God to speak to me through it. The whole uncertainty of where I'll be in the next couple of months is weighing heavier on me since it is actually June. The chill I once embodied is slowly evolving into panic. Here's the deal I made to God: If the next song was DC Talk = Washington, D.C.; Donnie McClurkin = N.Y.C.; Anyone else = Just wait on me idiot. I tried to get in some late Yolanda action in the brief pause between songs but I couldn't decide on another viable answer. The next selection? Take 6 (Take six months maybe? Weeks? Days?!!?). The song: You Don't Have To Be Afraid. That God has a sense of humor. And an ill sense of timing.

Living as the other half lives today, you know lazy Saturday, watching baseball and doing chores around the house, it's nice. This is the first Saturday I began in Massachusetts in over a month so it's nice not to be hustling and bustling. And I've also learned that I want to live like Run's House one day. And even I could not escape rooting for the bloody Red Sox.

Life's good. And being beautiful is hard work. But worth it.

In Limbo

I currently am writing from Brooklyn after returning from DC. But Adam, shouldn't you be getting ready for work in Massachusetts. Alas you are right. But that cryptic post of appreciation yesterday came after a breakthrough, or breakdown, moment after I found out that I didn't have enough money in my account to make it back to Mass. Enough for New York though.

And so I begrudgingly called Mom and asked for help. And like a true Mom she said don't even worry about it, as she heard the strain in my voice she assured me that these things happen and that's why she's here. That's true and all but I hated it so much to even need to ask.

This weekend has been so enlightening on a level I couldn't have expected. Whereas I thought I would be gallivanting and just taking a break, the Lord used the time to help me realize some important things. Over the weekend, I lost the treasured necklace my favorite resident at work gave me, whose been discharged for about 2.5 months now. It was some plastic seashell looking thing with a red string going through it. It got me awkward gazes whenever it was in plain view. But I've worn it every day for so long, even when I didn't work, hence why I lost it when the club got too hot and I took off one of my undershirt. I told myself it was a good luck charm, but I know it's not true. Something of a security blanket I guess.

But it's gone now, probably sailing up the Anacostia River on some trash barge. I've been praying for faith and patience in the midst of having an uncertain future. I've also been praying that He uses me for His will and just lets me stay open to whatever that may be. I think it's time I left my current line of work. It's hard to say it even though I was planning on it. Before I think I looked at it as a necessity to go to law school. Now it is a necessity to preserve my sanity, and not because of the boys.

This weekend I realized how much I want life. I've been drifting this whole time. The only goal I've ever had was a happy family. But now I know I want more out of life. And not because my peers are getting jobs or advancing in their endeavors. I just want it for myself. And not fancy cars and amazing financial security, though they'd be nice. I just want to be productive and happy and contributing. This is the first time I've wanted something so big. Usually I want something and it's okay if it doesn't happen. I'm tired though. I want to move on with life so bad. Whether it be in New York or in Washington or wherever He might want to send me.
But I want it so so bad. I couldn't even tell you. I've been repeating it to myself, Mom, and Posh and it never hits home enough. I want it. Bad.

I'll spare you guys now and actually work on getting it.

When Being On Hold Is Okay

it's rae for me to go for 24 hours without even looking at my e-mail, but due to my extended day out yesterday, that is what happened. So after my parents ambled off to church, I thought I would do a quick check before I got ready myself.

As I opened GMail, one of the more recent messages was from Northwestern Law. I thought it was some message reminding me about some element of my application that I overlooked or some fee due. Wrong. "The admissions committee has completed its review of your application." Wait a minute. Y'all doing this stuff by e-0mail now. I was expecting the envelope, thin or large, in the mail. And so soon. I swear that everything just got complete like last week.

We're at a crossroads here. Open up the address where my decision lies and possibly have Jesus stolen away from me on the Sabbath. Know that it's there, leave it, and get ready like I planned. Now this would have been the sensible thing to do. GOd can take care of stuff. The e-mail would still be there. Even if I checked it after church at least church would have been in my system to help me weather any blow. I rose. I sat. I rose. I sat.

Damn impulses had me click the button. But I needed to find my applicant number, which required a search through older e-mail. FInally Last name punched in. First name punched in. Social in. LSAC number in. Applicant ID number in. And the PDF says.....

"On Hold."

Now for some that's an anti-climactic moment. For me, tears of relief and joy. Why? Well friends, my academic career throws up more question marks than affirmations. Truly, the most attractive part of my application is that I scored in the 90th percentile of the LSAT and black people don't do that too often. But of course that does not make the whole case. So considering how crappy my resume may look, Northwestern still said this guy might be worth a shot. ANd in no way am I under the assumption that I will eventually be offered admittance. Wait list is nowhere near sure. But if the #12 school in the country thought I was worth a look, it makes me feel good. And they all could still reject me (Update: When I came home to Massachusetts. William & Mary went the conventional way and sent me one of those thin envelopes) but there is a weird sense of peace around the whole ordeal.

I keep telling myself, and others, that they could all reject me but that I would move on. And I think I honestly believed it. But in the midst of believing there were unattended scraps of worry that I put under the carpet of my soul and they bothered me more than I realized. That would explain the tears. But God has kept me and keeps on keeping me. I've already played Mary Mary (Thank You) and Hezekiah Walker (Faithful Is Our God) at least three times each.

That mustard seed faith is hard at times but when it comes through, it does with a vengeance

Breakthrough

So I'm listening to Rapper Big Pooh's "My Mind" for the umpteenth time since the sun set on another glorious Sabbath. Now I found the song just before the Sabbath hours descended upon us but whoa. Before I get into the beauty of the song and make this a post for my other blog (Wait, you haven't been?), let me get to the real point.

The dude that sings the hook is Darien Brockington. Now the only way I know him is that he sang some hooks for Little Brother, my current favorite group. He also had an EP that I got my hands on and also he just released an album late last year I haven't been able to touch. Anyway, he's got a couple joints I keep on repeat. His voice is cool. Nice vibe, nice lyrics.

Now listening to him, I'm loving his voice even more. But I'm also realizing that this guy just happened to get on because his college friends happened to be serious about the music thing and he had some talent to lend. Now he has an independently released album. He tours a little bit. Plus he has a bunch of MySpace friends. What is stopping me from living this lifestyle?

I usually have joked that I would love to be a background singer, but honestly could it be so bad? Even just hook singer. If I got to D-Brock's position I would be happy as a clam. What better way to spend youth? Then you take that experience and move on. Or add on to it. Who knows where it could go? So why not get serious about it? How much would it hurt to actually try?

That random call from a former co-worker to sing on her baby daddy's record doesn't sound so ludicrous all of a sudden.

I Need

- a driver's license (and a sweet whip)

- to work out

- read a lot more

- stop noticing when it's 4:20. Man that's just unhealthy.

Yes obvious. But admission is the first step to recovery