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By mmichelle, 2010/02/08 15:52

1. Oh nooooooooooo… The Lion’s computers all sick and junk! *sad face*

2. Two hundred forty pieces of White Ice Mint Nicorette.  I think we’re ready to do this quit thang!

3. Dear Kforce… Why is my check not in my mailbox?  You said pay day is Friday, not you will mail the check on Friday. *eye roll*

4.  Between text and picture messages, social networking site and IM’s, I am barely out of contact with The E-Quad and The Apple Seed.  I love it!

5. Oh wait… In addition to helping control my nicotine cravings, this gum is gonna whiten my teeth too???  Win-win, I’d say.

6. He looks so lost and pitiful.  Let’s see how much it’ll cost to fix his machine.

7. Wonder if it might be more advantageous to just buy a new tower?

8. What do you mean you don’t know whether you want to fix the thing or get a new one? *eye roll*

9. Okay looka here, ninja… I aint gonna beg you to accept my he’p!

10.  Aw yeah!  As of 16:43 Sunday, February 07, 2010, AngelaMichelle Smith is 24 hours smoke free!!!

11. The Lion now has an account on The AMX IV.  Now that’s love.

12. Here’s the ultimate test of my resolve… The STBE is on his drunken fool ish again. *eye roll* I knew it was too good to be true.

13. I passed, yo!  Feeling real good ’bout this quitting thang. *big goofy grin*

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*NOTE: The Baker’s Dozen was developed from a meme for a Vox Group by JustSayKB.  The object is, come up with 12 thoughts/quotes/link/whatever and one photo (it can be one that you take personally or a Net find) that best describes your weekend.  I’ve expanded it to 13 to represent a true baker’s dozen, but that’s just cause I’m anal about stuff like that. *lol*

Blessed Be…

M. Michelle, who is going HAM on this non-smoking thing.

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By mmichelle, 2010/02/01 10:58

1. The Lion in Cleveland and The Goddess in Detroit… What is poor Sheeba gone do?

2. Please, oh please, let this car have a CD player.

3. THE CAR HAS A CD PLAYER! *raise the mf’ing roof*

4.  Mission “Burn all the Music on the AMX IV to a CD for Travel Music” = FAIL!

5. Mission “Buy Five Million CD’s in Search of One Copy of Blueprint III” = OVERKILL!  But I was grooving like a mug on 23 and 75. *lol*

6. Hey… Just because you can’t text and drive don’t side eye me.  That’s what QWERTY’s, dynamic thumbs and over two decades of typing experience are for.

7. OMG!!!  My baby is boob height now, and my second baby is mustachioed!!!  What a difference five months make.

8. The Apple Seed is one of the happiest babies I have ever seen in my life!  He smiles and laughs at er’thang just like his Uncle Pokey did!  I love it!

9. IT’S THE BFF!!!!!  I have so missed her!

10.  That was waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too much wine, yo.  Never again.

11. The STBE and I actually getting along getting matching ink?  And we aren’t drunk?  THE APOCALYPSE IS NOW, PEOPLE!!!

12. I don’t wanna leave, but I really gotta go. *pout* See ya’ll in three weeks, yo!

13. Thirteen bullet points is not nearly enough opportunity to express how wonderful this home going was. *contented sigh*

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*NOTE: The Baker’s Dozen was developed from a meme for a Vox Group by JustSayKB.  The object is, come up with 12 thoughts/quotes/link/whatever and one photo (it can be one that you take personally or a Net find) that best describes your weekend.  I’ve expanded it to 13 to represent a true baker’s dozen, but that’s just cause I’m anal about stuff like that. *lol*

Blessed Be…

M. Michelle, who, for the first time in a VERY long time, enjoyed a trip home.

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By mmichelle, 2010/01/16 12:15

It’s been approximately eleven months since my last quit update, and while I would really love to present you all with a statement that my efforts have been successful… Me and my monkey — unaffectionately named Newport Medium — are still pal’ing around like Gumby and Pokey on any given day of the week.  He’s like one of those annoying people who gets on your nerves and makes you sick, but you continue to keep them around because when they’re not around the house seems too quiet.  Yeah… That’s my monkey, and it seems I’m stuck with him.

My reasons for wanting to quit have taken a new turn since, in the interest of preventing cigarette related fires, the government has approved adding EVA bands to the cigarette paper.  The purpose of these bands is  to make them extinguish if left unintended, but despite the claims that the additive causes no real health problems, I experienced quite the opposite.  While I am all for fire prevention and safety, the foam rubber additive affects the taste of the cigarettes and has diminished my physical desire to smoke.  In addition to that, I’ve been noticing a myriad of adverse physical effects linked to the new FSC cigarettes that not only leaves a bad taste in my mouth (literally and figuratively), but a very real pain in my stomach as well.

Since I haven’t had money to purchase cessation aids that grant the best results, I’ve taken to behaviour mod techniques to manage when and how much I smoked per day.  I started keeping a journal of how often I smoked and noticed that I smoked more when I was “bored” and just sitting, which has become my biggest activity over the past year.  From this log I discovered that on average I lit up approximately every fifteen to twenty minutes, so with that knowledge I made an effort to stretch the time between smokes until I was at thirty minutes.  This worked well for about two packs before I began regressing due to secondary triggers like stress, coffee and the afterglow of sex.  Eventually I was back to my fifteen to twenty minute routine, out of sheer laziness and not wanting to deal with the physical withdrawal symptoms that are more than just mind over matter.  Discouraged, I put off quitting realistically until I could afford to enlist the power of something stronger than my own will had proven to be.

Here recently, I joined the site Become An Ex because I found the commercials so amusing.  The site’s slogan is “relearn life without cigarettes” and its premise is to note each individual triggers like the aforementioned ones, and ride out the cravings to achieve more time between cigarettes.  The site also breaks down the habit itself, each individual triggers, and how nicotine addiction works.  It take smoking on a “one puff at a time” fashion that eases the anxiety of quitting in a way that is compassionate and not at all overbearing.  So after giving the site a good once over, I became an Ex member and set a new quit date of March 5th, which is also my youngest son’s birthday.  I’d originally penned February 1st as Q-Day, but when I realistically considered my circumstances I allowed myself a reasonable amount of leeway so I didn’t set myself up to fail.  Of course The Lion is on board to help keep me encouraged, but because he’s not a smoker I’m presently searching the Ex community for members who are here in Columbus and can provide real time support and inspiration.

I’m really positive about this effort because I’m doing more than just dealing with smoking as a physical activity, I’m working to break the mental and subconscious  factors that make the habit such a hard one to break.  In preparation for my Q-Day I’m doing the legwork of logging in my cigarette use, being mindful of how I spend my idle time, and taking note of my personal triggers.  To date, I have stopped taking my cigarette pack out of the house, so I no longer smoke in the car.  I no longer take my ashtray or cigarettes in the bedroom, so if I’m working in there (which I’m trying to do more and more) I have to physically move in order to smoke because the cigarettes aren’t readily accessible.  Wonderfully, because it’s tax time I’ll soon be able to afford a cessation aid to get me through my first 30 days, in addition to the others steps I’m taking.

And so the countdown begins!  In forty-five days (or sooner if I can swing it) I will be able to label myself as a non-smoker for the first time in a quarter of a century!  I am excited, I am hopeful, and I am ready.

Wish me luck.  Again.

M. Michelle

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By mmichelle, 2010/01/14 14:15

“They” say the third time is the charm.  Well what do “they” say about the fourth?

Despite my dislike for the standard academic model, I have come to a point in life where I realize the importance necessity of a collegiate degree in furthering one’s station in life.  So with that in mind, I have taken the steps to become a CSCC Cougar and get my higher education on for a fourth time in seventeen years.

Why so many stops and starts, you ask?  Well, in about the fifth grade I began to see the redundancy in accepted system of learning as we know it.  It doesn’t take a genius to realize all “learning” is is committing facts to memory and demonstrating your comprehension of those facts via tests and what not.  Being that I do much better working at a pace that is better suited to my learning curve, I often felt stifled spending weeks at a time on lessons I could realistically absorb in one or two days (not counting math, which I suck at *lol*).  In addition to this, I have always been a critical thinker who had to understand why I was being asked to do something a certain way, as well as how I could get the knowledge to work for me in everyday life.  These are not elements which exist in the public school paradigm.  At least not in the Detroit Public School System.  In short, I grew resentful, bored and disenchanted with school and dropped out in my first year of high school.  I did graduate on time though, after taking the state equivalency exam and passing in the top percentile.  And that was essentially with a fifth grade education, because that’s about when I stopped aggressively applying myself.

Because I love learning, and the “importance” of a college education had been drilled into my head by middle school counselors, I enrolled as a freshman at Wayne County Community College a year after receiving my G.E.D.  I was hopeful that I’d entered a system that encouraged self study, discussion and critical thinking, but quickly realized my academic expectations were way too high.  What I thought would be an adult environment turned out to be nothing more than an extension of high school in every way.  I naively assumed I would be “learning” something, or building on the educational foundation I’d developed so far but this was not the case.  Quite possibly because I chose to attend day classes with the “kids” instead of night classes with the more focused students.  Discouraged and disillusioned, I dropped out after one full semester of passing two classes out of my 12 credit schedule: Psychology 101 and *Spades & Socialization 210.

In 2002, a bit more socially mature  and confident I’d be able to get past my prior dissatisfactions, I enrolled as a freshman at Oakland Community College.  The atmosphere at OCC seemed a bit more “cultured” than WC3 in the sense that the campus was more “university-like” and the day students appeared more goal oriented. I was excited, encouraged and ready to take on my 12 credit class load, sure I would  matriculate with ease.  Unfortunately, after only three sessions of trekking across campus to attend multiple class, I discovered I was way too far along in my fourth pregnancy to endure the physical stress daily classes.  I withdrew with incompletes before completing the semester.

Life and financial duties called in the mean and in between time, as well as dealing with the breakdown of my marriage, so I had to put  my educational endeavours were put on hold for awhile.  Then six short years after my last attempt, I moved to Toledo and became a student at Owens Community College in nearby Perrysburg.  It was here that I finally felt academically “on purpose.”  I loved the campus, I loved my professors (especially my Life Span Psychology and English instructors) and I loved inspiring atmosphere.  Again, I took a full course load and was intent on seeing the semester through to its completion.  I did too, although a lot less scholarly than I’d imagined thanks to a few bumps in the road at the end of the term.  I was so proud of myself at having at least seen it through, but that gratification was short lived when after enrolling for my second semester I had to move back to Detroit under emergency circumstances.

Mind you, my distaste for the K – 14 American school model never changed throughout my academic career.  In the time between enrollments, I would question my reasons for wanting to expose myself to a system that insulted my intelligence by demanding I learn according to its formulas.  Additionally, after spending years being taught as a child that I’m prefect just as I am, that I should  trust in my own wisdom and not worry about the opinions of others, it seemed a contradiction that my abilities as an adult would be determined by just that.  The opinions of others in the form of a degree.  But even in the midst of my disfavour I couldn’t argue with the fact that no matter how ridiculous the standard, it is what’s needed to “get ahead” in life, and that even if the experience didn’t necessarily expand my knowledge base much, the networking opportunities alone might be worth it.  So now, here I am in a brand new year at the start of a brand new decade, starting over as a freshman at Columbus State Community College.  Ironically, I’ve technically been a CSCC Cougar since before I started at Owens because I registered when I had plans to move down here in early 2008.  Lucky for me they retained my information despite me never enrolling in a class, which is a glorious step saver.

I’m constantly reminded by life that had I stayed the course when I first started out I’d have had that Psy.D I’ve been lusting after all my life…  Twice if that were possible.  It does not escape me that I could very well have been in Dr. Phil or Dr. Drew’s position, living my dream of being a published author and having the licensed authority to tell people they have issues… And get paid for it.  Sometimes that gets me down, especially when I realize a lot of my friends and acquaintances are touting Master’s degrees and continuing on to receiving Doctorates at half my age.  Graciously, that down time is only short lived because I realize that until the moment I take my last breath, there will always be an opportunity to achieve my academic goals.  I’m only 36 and there have been people way older than me who have done it so there’s no reason why I can’t.  My mother did it, my aunt did it, and so did my younger brother’s mother, so why can’t I?  The only thing that would keep me from educational success is me, and I’m not willing to do that anymore.

Wish Me Luck!

M. Michelle

* This is not a real course.  It was how I spent my time in between classes, or during classes I really didn’t feel like going to.

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By mmichelle, 2010/01/12 00:21

It was two in the morning, and somehow The Lion and I found ourselves watching the rebroadcast of Meet the Press on MSNBC. Well, I can’t say I was “watching” it since clicking back and forth though Twitter and Facebook was occupying most of my attention, but I was aware it was on.

The first guests were the RNC and DNC Chairpersons, who began the segment by sparring on the topic of  statements  made  by Senator Harry Reid in the book “Game Change“, as well as the subsequent apology he offered.  Needless to say, because I live under a rock and miss most of what goes on in the political arena, I was clueless as to what this statement actually was.  Thankfully, MSNBC helped me out by rebroadcasting it for me:

“[Senator Reid] was wowed by Obama’s oratorical gifts and believed that the country was ready to embrace a black presidential candidate, especially one such as Obama–a `light-skinned’ African-American `with no Negro dialect, unless he wanted to have one,’ as he said privately.  Reid was convinced, in fact, that Obama’s race would help him more than hurt him in a bid for the Democratic nomination.”

Governor Kaine stated that although the statement was “insensitive” and “wrong” the incident was a closed case  since Reid apologized to the POTUS, and everything was good between them.  Chairman Steele saw this as a double standard based on party lines, since in 2002 when a GOP member had made an “off colour” statement, President Baby Daddy — then a Senator — called for him to be ousted.  If you’re interested you can read the show transcript here, but you pretty much get the gist, right?

I was personally bewildered, so much so that I had to rewind the entire first part of the segment (it was only six minutes long, approximately) and give all my attention to the dialogue.  Even after a second viewing I was left blank minded on how the statement was even remotely racist, or in the least bit offensive.  I asked The Lion.  He shrugged his shoulders and said that it was probably because of the word Negro.  When I logged on today I posed the question to my Twitter, Facebook and Plurk fam. My buddy Rik mused that to him it didn’t seem racist but it was offensive since “acting black/talking white” are stereotypical judgments with no real base.  My GS Taja agreed with Rik, and the rest of the world was silent which left me at a loss because I really wanted to understand.  What was so racist/offensive about what Reid said?

I guess my bewilderment comes in because I have heard many a Negro common folk say pretty much the same thing when it came to Obama winning the presidency.  Of course they all believe he was qualified for the job or were, in the very least, simply hopeful for a literal change, but let’s be real… A lot of us said to ourselves, if not other people, that Obama was selected, primed and endorsed seriously as the first Black candidate because he was a stereotypically “safe” African-American male (ie. not too dark, spoke proper English, etc. etc.).  And realistically, with the history of this country when it comes to race relations, that is probably not far from the truth.  That’s not racist or offensive, that’s just calling a spade a spade.  No pun intended.  So it began to become clear to me that the only reason Reid’s statement was seen as racist, offensive, insensitive or whatever you wish to call it is… Wait for it… Waaaaaait for it…

Because it was uttered by a non-Black person!

*DING DING DING*

What kind of crap is that?  Are we back in the days of racial hypocrisy?  What’s that you say?  We never left? Oh, well I guess that clears it all up then.  It’s okay for “us” to say those things because it’s about one of “us”, but put the words in the mouth of one of “them” and it’s time to call Al and Jesse?  C’mon, son.  You can’t be serious with this.  Get the f*uck outta here with that.

It kills me the multitude of Black Americans who complain about there still being colour lines in the country today without realizing it is us who are setting up many of the precedents for some of those lines to still exist.  The ugly truth that a lot of us don’t want to accept is, people treat you according to the example of how you treat yourself. And since we are in the habit of constantly throwing our ethnicity up as our identifiers, allowing them to keep us separate from “the others”, then eventually those identifiers are going to be used against us.  Not saying it’s right, not saying it’s wrong, just saying what is.

Just my buck fiddy.

M.Michelle

Image Credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/coxao/ / CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

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By mmichelle, 2010/01/11 20:17

So, as usual, I was minding my own business when all of the sudden I was assaulted by a sea of colour via Facebook statuses.  Since it seemed an in-joke I hadn’t been privy to, being the nosey investigative journalist type of person that I am, I decided to Google the terms to see what the “fad” was about.  It only took me point nineteen seconds to receive a result to my query, and point twenty-two to become irritated about it all.  Why irritated?  Well, initially, after researching the root source of the status meme (a Internet prank devised some months ago to confuse men) and comparing it to the reasons people thought they were participating (to “spread the wings of breast cancer awareness”), I was awestruck at how quickly it seems people are willing to jump on bandwagons without doing the leg work to understand the reasons/purpose powering the vehicle.

NOTE: I was lucky enough to discover the source of the meme on the day the incident broke, but since then all links claiming to explain it have disappeared.  Must be Shawn Carter and his Illuminati peeps. *shrug*

NOTE RELOADED: For the record, this crap did not start in Detroit, as some misinformed sources [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]  are claiming.  A Freep BLOG by Brian Todd was the first to make sense of the trend, stating that “women across metro Detroit (and likely reaching farther regions) are using their Facebook status updates for a cause.”  Learn to read, get your journalistic weight up and quit Jayson Blair‘ing it, people!

Secondly I was irritated that someone would employ a serious ailment and worthy cause for purposes of furthering a viral chain-status.  Had it been “just a game” I probably would have just resigned to my first impression (that it was stupid) and went on about my merry way. But being that breast cancer is not in the least bit fun or funny I found it hard to see this as little more than a prank that played on people’s gullibility good intentions.  Especially when you consider less than half the participants bothered to look up information on the fad for themselves, and even fewer followed their postings up with a self exam as suggested.  That really bothered me.

At any rate, a few days passed, the colour statuses are replaced with something else (The Lion and I tried to get a “vegetable” fad going, but it failed miserably), and I got over my irritation.  While some may argue that the prank did little to raise awareness, there are reports that the Susan G. Komen Foundation (who did not start the viral trend, mind you) benefited by gaining a boost in Facebook fans as well as a surge of donations. [1] [2]  So all’s well that ends well, right?  Sure, why not.  It was all “in fun” if that’s what you perceived it to be.  But then I realized that this all took place during the month of January, three months after Breast Cancer Awareness Month and smack dab in the middle of Cervical Health Awareness Month.  What?  Yeah, I had no clue either, which isn’t saying much since the campaign is less than a decade old and poorly promoted (thank you Ms. Jacqueline Greely for the heads up).  Nevertheless, with the spirit of the “spreading the wings of awareness” in mind,  armed with my enlightenment I enlisted the help of Facebook and Twitter to spread the news, hoping it would catch like wildfire.  So far, I got one “like” and two “comments” on Facebook and absosmurfly NO reTweets.  Not a ONE.  On THREE accounts.  What am I missing?

Why is it that a networking communication tool (the Internet) that was awash with hues of black, pink, nude, none (which isn’t a colour, by the way), pink with green polka dots,  and paisley (again, not a colour) in the name of awareness just a few day ago, lays painfully silent when it comes to promotion of awareness now?  Maybe because breasts are sexy and commonplace  while cervixes are less “in your face” and attached to a feminine organ that has been shrouded shame since the days of yore.  Possibly the cause has been overlooked because posting the colour of your panties is a little bit too TMI and personal, while bras are seen as less offensive.   Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because  there’s no made up drama or fabricated mystery angle and none of our friends are doing it so *shrug* what’s the purpose?  Nobody wants to be on a bandwagon by themselves, right?

Just my buck fiddy.

M. Michelle

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By mmichelle, 2010/01/01 18:41

“Forget all rules, forget all restrictions, as to taste, as to what ought to be said, write for the pleasure of it — whether slowly or fast — every form of resistance to a complete release should be abandoned.”

- William Carlos Williams

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By mmichelle, 2009/11/23 21:48

It was an ultra warm, end of spring type day in Central Ohio and The Lion and I were simultaneously tuned into the 2009 NFL draft coverage.  Actually, he was watching in between being frustrated because his beloved Browns kept passing their pick.  I, on the other hand, was simply passing the time while Plurking my thoughts on the whole shabang, hoping the Browns would quit lollygagging so we could go outside.  It’s not that I wasn’t interested, because I really do like football.  It’s just I had no clue who the draftees were because I don’t follow college players (I should have been following that fine a** Michael Crabtree though… Mmm mmm mmm!  Seems I’m going to need to be a 49ers fan this year. *lol*).  But because it was on and I was in the room, the coverage held my attention marginally.  I even found myself getting excited when the Lions netted Matthew Stafford even though I could not tell you why.  As far as I was concerned no matter who they got, they still were gonna suck.

NOTE: As of this post, the Lions are 2 – 8, which is markedly better than last season but still… damn sucky.  Better than the Browns though.  Sorry, TL.

Anywho, as I was watching and making my comments, I couldn’t help but notice Michael Oher.  Not simply because he’s six foot five, three hundred nine pounds and strikingly chocolate.  I couldn’t help but notice him because in addition to him being six foot five, three hundred nine pounds and strikingly chocolate, when it was announced that he’d been picked by Baltimore, he was immediately surrounded in celebration by a group of Caucasian-Americans.  Now, because I have extended family members who are white this didn’t really strike me as  wholly odd.  But I couldn’t help but to wonder out loud why there wasn’t at least one African-American family member sharing in the moment.  A cousin, an aunt, an uncle twice removed… Something!  Don’t act like you didn’t think it too, provided you were watching. *lol*   And then they told Michael’s story, and I was touched.  Given his early life’s circumstances it was heartwarming to know that the Tuohy family (the white people who were congratulating him) had seen fit to step in and offer Michael stability in a time when he could have fallen through the cracks.  At that moment, it didn’t matter to me that the Tuohys were white.  It mattered that they did what so many other families fail to do when faced with a similar situation, and the result of their action had brought Michael to that very moment in time.  Being a first round NFL draft pick, which is an opportunity that many aspire to but few ever achieve.

Now here we are five months later.  The third month of football season is well underway and Mr. Oher is proudly donning a Raven’s jersey and working to carve his niche on their offensive line.  Since I’m not a B-More fan (sorry ’bout that, Honey *lol*) I really don’t know what the season has been like for Michael thus far.  But to me, even if he sucks as bad as the entire Lion’s team and sees more sideline than time on the field, the fact that he “made it” there against the odds he faced is a testament to faith and hard work.  He is to be commended.

With all that being said… Can someone, anyone, tell me why this story was made into a major motion picture?  Furthermore, can somebody tell me why this story has been made into a major motion picture that people believe I should pay money to see?  While it has all of the “feel good” elements of a legitimate blockbuster hit, isn’t the story behind the story played out like cassettes and compact discs at this point?  Do we really need another “White Shadow” themed movie that seems to support the belief that in order for disenfranchised black youth to succeed, a white/light family/social worker/teacher/hero needs to swoop in and play the support (is this not an element in the “Precious” and “Invictus” movies as well?). In reality, the fact that the Tuohy family is white is purely a coincidental element. They were simply a compassionate couple  who were in the position to help Michael in his time of need, and it just so happens they were born Caucasian-American.  However, I’m sure there are many other children — black, white and otherwise — who faced similar circumstances and were aided in a similar fashion by families of other ethnicities.  Maybe they didn’t make it to the NFL but they beat the odds just the same, making it somewhere other than where they would have ended up had someone not intervened.  Where is their movie?  Where is their book?  Where is the attention and acclaim that should rightfully be given to them, as well as Michael Oher, because they rose above and made it through?  Or am I expecting too much as usual?

From a humanistic point of view, I truly applaud the Tuohy family for stepping up, and wholeheartedly believe they would not have done any different had  they or Michael been any other race than what they all are.  Theirs is a beautiful story that should be noted as an inspiration, and stands out in this day and age of gloom and doom stories that plague our media streams day in and day out.    But I am sick and tired of this story continuously being pushed on us by the entertainment industry, while other stories go unnoticed because they don’t contain the “white knight” message that can be perpetuated through stores like “The Blind Side.”

Just my buck fiddy.

M. Michelle

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By mmichelle, 2009/11/10 20:15

There was nothing that I loved more than when I was able to “collect a paycheck” from the comforts of my own home.  Being that I am a freedom loving Archer who works best independent of supervision, being a VA worked best not just for my personality, but for my lifestyle as a SAHM.  Great at multi-tasking I was more efficient when working at my own pace than I ever was when I was with larger, established employers, and that offered me quality time to spend as Mommy.

While freelancing from home full-time is a feasible vocation for some, many must remain within the ranks of Corporate American in order to maintain their standard of living.  For most, the ability to clock out at a certain time and leave the job behind is a G_d-send that creates a much needed boundary between work and home life.  But for many more employees out there, taking work home in order to complete it by a proposed deadline, is a reality that blurs those boundaries lines often.

One day while watching television, I happened upon an ATT commercial (I think that was the company) where a man spoke about the bus sometimes being his office, and how glad he was to have this device (I think it was a Blackberry product) that allowed him to get documents to his boss even when he was away from the physical office.  Because of this advertisement I found myself contemplating just how commercially blurred the lines between work and every other facet of life have become in the last couple of decades.  Thanks to the Internet and a bevy of “smart” devices which keep us connected to mediums of professional productivity, it’s almost second nature for most to let work consume every other aspect of their lives.  Or at least pour over into them.  And even in cases where one is not able to take work home with them, the urge to stay late is oftentimes more than a notion.

We’ seem to have developed into a nation where we are always supposed to be doing something, and more often than not that something has more to do with proving our economic worth, remaining competitive and one step ahead of others.  We seem to have become and “on call” society, no longer personable individuals but extensions of out vocations.  And with this transition, we seem to have transformed into a nation that no longer knows how to turn itself off, or at least go into sleep mode when need be.

Is there any question as to why there has been a rise in prescriptions to handle stress and depression and many of us stand on the brink of burnout?

Just my buck fiddy.

M. Michelle

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By mmichelle, 2009/10/20 14:42

The other night I was fortunate to catch “National Geographic Presents Tribal Secrets: The Wodaabe“.  The Wodaabe, also known the Bororo, are a nomadic group of cattle-herders who “live” along the outer edges of the western Sahara whose lifestyle and traditions have maintained unchanged for centuries, and are rooted in behavioural systems based on tenets we’d liken to chivalry. Tribal members follow a strict code of modesty, humility and honour which dictates all of their interactions; direct eye contact is limited to glances out of respect, the first born child is not mentioned or spoken to by his/her parents, and even married couples practice reserved communications during daylight hours, speaking to one another casually until they are in bed together.  Compared to our standards of living here in America the Wodaabe way of life may seem odd and dissociative, but being that it works in to keep things between members more civil than most of us have ever experienced in our own family, the practices were no doubt fascinating.

Throughout the program, while many aspects of general life as a Wodaabe tribe member were briefly highlighted, the main focus of the broadcast was undoubtedly their marriage and sexual customs (the Wodaabe practice polygamy and open sexuality… even for the women) , and The Guérewol.   The Guérewol is a annual courtship festival held at the end of the rainy season in September,  during which , male members of the tribe meticulously adorn themselves colourfully with makeup and costumes (as demonstrated in the accompanying image) and compete in a “dance-off” for the affections of single and married female tribe members.  To see the competition is to witness an activity of both awe and beauty.  Because white teeth and shiny eyes are considered to be among the most attractive attributes, competitors smile wide and roll their eyes during the dance known as the Yaake, while simultaneously emitting a melodic chant that is almost hypnotic.  As the men dance, interested Wodaabe women take notice, and make their choices known with subtle glances and eye movements.  Once chosen, then men and women pair up for one night trysts or marriage… whichever purpose the woman has in mind.  The competitive dance part of The Guérewol can last up to seven days, testing the stamina of each contestant who chooses to go the distance.

As I watched the program, I was amused at how closely this ritual mimicked the way things happen in the animal kingdom.  Typically, males of a species is the brightest and most ornamented for purposes of competing with other males for the “love” of their female counterparts.  In addition to their markings, the males of a species perform feats of endurance (sometimes by dancing, ironically) to prove their genes are the fittest, ensuring that his offspring will stand a better chance of survival.  So, it seems nature draws parallel lines at times between most human mating practices and those of the animal world, with the female being in control of who gets the cookies (or becomes the husband) and who doesn’t.  Sadly, here in western culture, the roles have been reversed and as a result, a lot of our relationships suffer woefully.

Somewhere in the time line there was a switch in societal standards that favoured  the patriarchal bloodline over matriarchal, negating  the importance of the feminine principle.  Since that time, women have been pitted against one another for men’s affection.  We compete through our manner of dress, speaking, and just what we will allow when dealing with men.  In addition to that, a lot of us are willing to compromise our values by reproducing behaviours outside of our character just to keep “a piece of man” around.   And gone are the days where women expect a man to show himself worthy before she goes out on a limb to cater to him.  Nope.  All most men have to do now is be “sensitive” and show the potential to aspire to something greater and a woman on him like white on rice, daring anyone to come and mess with “her man.”  This is not to say that all men do work to prove they are worthy mates in the way nature has dictated, but because there are so many more women willing to throw themselves on the altar, many feel there is no longer a need to put in the work.  Remember the Frisbee joke Eddie Murphy used in “Delirious“?  Why chase it if you know it’s going to be thrown at you?

This is a trend that has been going on for multiple centuries, and one that I have seen increase in my lifetime and it saddens me.   While I do not attempt to speak for/about the whole of the human species or for/about all females, it is should be extremely disturbing that this behaviour is recognized as typical instead of abnormal.  Why should it not be considered typical?  Because when it comes to reproductive matters, women stand more to lose when her right to choose is compromised.  When a man is not “made” to prove his worth, what ensures that future offspring will inherit attributes that allow it to survive in its environment?  We are the most physically vulnerable of the pair, so when a man is not “made” to prove he is the best choice, how can we be sure that we will not contract something that can render us sterile or cause death to us and our children?  When men aren’t “made” to prove themselves, how are we to know who will be the best provider and protector? And emotionally speaking, when men are not “made” to prove themselves, how can we possibly know who is best suited to support us, treat us respectfully and will loyally stand by us in effort to make a life that benefits us, and out children, both?

Barring emotional attachment, when it all boils down to it, though we are a mentally evolved species, a lot of our practices follow biologically sound logic, based in internal drives that ensure our DNA will continue to thrive.  While there are other reasons a woman should be the one to choose that deal with emotions, at the core of the debate it’s all about reproductive factors, and providing our children the best biological foundation to be created in is what matters most.

Just my buck fiddy.

M. Michelle