“Grab a Piece of Paper. Write down all the things you want in your women. From the car she drives to the personality she has. EVERY. SINGLE. THING. You want her to be confident, funny, all those things. And then you have to ask yourself the following question: ‘Is That Woman On This Paper Going To Date Me?’ ” Read More
I want to start this “rant” if you will with a very clear disclaimer: I am not here to care about nor coddle your feelings on the topic. This work will be served regardless. Let’s continue.
Mercury Retrograde Got Me. I’m well aware not everyone believes in that sort of thing, but let’s just say between Tuesday night and Wednesday morning, things weren’t working in my favor.
I first left my iPhone charger & wall connector on the main campus of the school I work at, and was forced to buy a new one on the way home (S/O to my local 7 Eleven for having $5 iPhone 5 chargers). Apparently, Apple had a new update with features I probably won’t even use, but because I hate notifications on my phone, I set it up to take place overnight.
1 problem: I didn’t have the wall plug for the cord.
So I plugged my phone into my laptop, kept my laptop on and went to sleep. Simple enough. Right?
While in the process of updating, my laptop decided it wanted to go to sleep. This led to a few things taking place, and Mercury Retrograde whispering to me “Gotcha Bitch”.
First , My iPhone died after my laptop went to sleep, because charging from a laptop is always a longer process than from a direct outlet. Secondly, because my phone died in the middle of the process of updating, the iPhone basically had a factory reset. It didn’t even have knowledge of previous backups. Basically, I lost everything overnight except my contacts (because luckily it got those from iCloud, due to lack of space on my cloud, I ain’t updated my photos in literally over a year).
So basically, at 6:40 am, I woke up looking like this the photo to the right. I spent about a half hour, trying to recover everything, complete the update, etc. Alas, nothing worked.
And that was literally the best thing that could have happened to me.
4 of my last 5 phones have been iPhones, so the amount of apps, pictures, data, etc. I gained over that time was substantial. I’m not the person who goes to delete text messages. I rarely delete photos, and I actually participate in real life Spring cleaning more than I actually clean up the apps on my phone and get rid of those I don’t really use.
This purge of remnants of my past was a mishap that was supposed to take place. I started to realize how subtly the weight of holding on to so many things from the past on your phone could be. How something as little as a picture of that one time you and your ex/ old friends/ family members you fell out with/ etc. could hinder moving forward with life, stirring up thoughts and memories that while you may never forget, aren’t necessary to dwell on. I figured every picture worth keeping was something I probably shared on social media. Every text message from the past can remain in the past. And as far as the apps? Well, just like in life, why hoard things you don’t need?
So, I went and downloaded the apps that I do use week-to-week, and actually had a relatively clear-minded day, with far fewer push notifications than usual. I ain’t saying to reset your phone, just advocating to include your phone on your Spring Cleaning list. It may not be that deep for you, but it may help Restore your sanity.
~ Mr. PrICE
(I also published this article here)
I recently became the member of a Black Greek Letter Organization. As I read through our history book, I came across the point in my organization’s past where they defined the only distinction that should matter when it comes to members of Greek organizations. Active Or Inactive (no, not Paper or Pledging).
The distinction to this day SHOULD be the only one that matters when discussing members of the organization, are you a member who is about the business of building and defending the brand of the organizations. Not just financially, but in how we discuss the work of the organizations, paying attention to the details of each one and making sure that the organization we became a part of has fallen to the wayside. If you ask some members of BGLOs how do you recognize an Inactive member or “Shirt wearer”, many will tell you they are the ones who talk the most about the stereotypical parts of being Greek, own the most paraphernalia, and possibly the ones who do a lot to damage to the image of their organization.
I know some of y’all are wondering what this has to do with HBCUs. Well…
A Large Percentage of HBCU Graduates are “Shirt wearers” of their institutions.
A good friend of mine, co-alum (and now Frat brother) posed a question on Facebook recently asking “What Are Some Things Unique to the HBCU Experience?” Let me start by saying the majority of the responses were great, meaningful and lighthearted. But the following responses prompted this piece:
Dealing With Financial Aid
Student Loan acceptance
Well, let’s break this down. I’ve attended 2 HBCUs as well as been employed by 2 PWIs. Financial Aid problems occur everywhere, and you can’t blame the school for not doing your FAFSA correctly. Same goes for Student Loan issues overall. And finally, closed mouths don’t get fed. “Guidance” doesn’t seek out those who need it, those who need it should have sought guidance. But moreover:
If you are the graduate of an HBCU and when asked about what made your experience unique and the first thing you utter out of your mouth is negative in fashion, I think it is fair at this point to refer to you as a “Shirt wearer” of your alma mater.
Historically Black Colleges & Universities already deal with enough false narratives about their purpose, influence, and ability to prepare students, it’s quite amazing to see people that verbally defecate on their university they received their degree from. What’s more? The people whom often do the most slandering of their university own and wear clothing showing they are alumni, and most likely have not donated a dime to their institution since departing the campus.
These Shirt wearers only use their alma mater’s identity as an HBCU when it’s convenient: using their degree to get a job, using their former school as a reason to attend CIAA weekend or the Battle of the Bands, etc. They literally do nothing to protect the brand or add any meaningful progressive commentary, or invest in the program they received their degree from.
I wrote an article for HBCU Gameday on BET’s The Quad about a month ago, where I state that the show has the responsibility to show both what is similar between HBCUs and PWIs, in addition to highlighting the differences that make them unique. There is plenty to celebrate about HBCUs that doesn’t involve the Band, The Yard, and Homecoming in the unique ways HBCUs do them. More importantly those of us who do care and are active in the caring and reputation and brand of our schools should call out those who offer negative comments about out institutions but don’t do anything to deserve the right to offer an opinion (see: donate back to their program/major, create scholarships, etc.)
I started this off by showing a parallel between BGLO shirt wearers and flippant HBCU alums. My Regional Convention is coming up next week, and only those of us who paid our dues are allowed to attend, to vote, fellowship, and receive the full benefit of being a member. I like this model; it requires us to put our money where our mouths are.
I only wish something similar could be done to those who only are around for Homecoming.
February 21, 2015. I was single. I was unavailable. I was in North Carolina.
It was Saturday; the day prior to I moved on campus to start as an RA 6 weeks into the semester. On this day, I had to interview for the RA job for the Fall semester & I met this girl, let’s call her Emme. Read More
Social Media has been a blessing and a curse. Social Media has led to is not only people with the ability to express a multitude of opinions (no matter how intelligent or ignorant), but also seeing how people respond to those opinion. Sure, when you’re sharing your opinion in an open forum – be it Facebook Status, Tweet, GroupMe conversation, or even a blog – you open yourself to any form of responses. Just comes with the territory.
But This Blog Post Ain’t About The Posters, It’s about the Respondents. Read More
Hello all reading this. So I’m about to start a new blog. It will most likely also be here on WordPress. So if you’re so willing, could you answer the following question:
In What Ways Are Black Men Not Given Equal Social, Political, Or Economic Rights?
The year was 2015. I was Single*, and working over the summer at my alma mater as a Resident Adviser, because it was something easy to do, and it allowed me to use my off campus apartment as a place to rent out for kickbacks and illegal activities. I wasn’t taking any classes, and was getting paid unemployment from back home and pocketing money like it was nothing. Makings of a chill ass summer. I was more known than I thought, a fairly likable person, though anyone who got the change to speak to me knew I was an asshole. Overly opinionated and shared exactly how I felt, especially if I felt justified.
NC on a college campus at night is dry as fuck. Everywhere on campus to eat or do anything enjoyable, like workout, go to the library, etc. Shut down at 7 pm. With the small amount of students on campus this made sense, but to tell you to the truth, it was a struggle. Which means one of a few things were going to take place: Watching TV, Ordering and Eating Food. Drinking, Smoking, and of course Fucking. We’re talking College Students between the ages of 19 and 28 (yes 28, and no I wasn’t the oldest there).
I met one girl there, never met her before, but recalled her face from some online date/quick lay app I had on my phone. She was aight. Not hard to look at, but not breaking any necks. She made it clear she wanted to fuck like the first week we were on campus for the summer session. Sex was something to do, therefore, she was just something to do. SO I did, until she became annoying (I’ll write a post on the difference between Fuck buddies and FWB another day). But that ain’t the point of this story.
Fast forward to the Fall Semester. I was an RA again. She lived in my building, just not on my floor. And I was horny. I didn’t feel like putting in work to fuck anyone new, and I was feeling myself enough that I knew I could hit her up. Just for head, because she acted too clingy when she got dick. The conversation went like so:
Clearly wasn’t feeling myself not too much because it worked. But then it didn’t.
She started to spread rumors on campus that I was a “bad guy”, that she and I were talking but stopped when I asked to fuck one of her friends (only 1/3 of that is true, I did ask to fuck one of her friends – why be stingy with good dick?). This was after I messaged her “S.A.N.D.O.S.” 2-3 more times to get some when I wanted. Each time, she obliged.
Moral of the Story: In the Age of Smartphones, Screenshots are visual contracts. Screenshots save reputations and expose liars. I sent her screenshots of all conversations we had prior and told her chill with the lies before I have to expose the truth.
(Single* – references No in a relationship, but not emotionally available)
She’s Got These Eyes That
Look Deep Into My Soul &
Calls For The Real Me
If only all that’s right with the world could have a single appearance.
That single appearance would be the whiteness of her smile, roundness of the cheeks on her face, ebony of her skin and the depth in her eyes.
The once in a lifetime walking essence of a God-smile,
As beautiful as a rare butterfly, something you hope to hold in your hands; fearful of crushing, expecting to fly away but hoping that day never comes.
She is as close to everything I hoped to have, but hardly what I deserve,
expecting to fly from me when she too realized my unworthiness of her.
And yet, still hope, that If one day all the right in the world
Could be what’s right with me, in this world.