Sunday, January 29, 2012

"My girl loves to sabotage."

You know, I just love self-diagnosing myself. With all the time I spend awake at night, it’s only natural that I over-analyze my every move. And of course I was a psychologist in my former life, so there you have it. Anyhow, one of my favorite diagnoses (only because it’s so spot-on) is that I’m a habitual self-saboteur. Trust me on this one. If you know me, or have read enough of my sad little blog entries, you know it’s true.
I have single handedly ruined numerous opportunities, dreams, relationships, you name it. Something about seeing a glimmer of hope in something or someone pushes my self-destruct button. And unfortunately, I’ve learned that it’s not just me.
 Hmmm, I guess I’m not always alone. Cue violins.
Being an observant (read nosey) individual, I’ve noticed some of my friends, family, and associates unwillingly participating in the grand act of self-sabotage as well. It’s a terrible site to see. Like a train wreck. You see it coming, but there’s no way you can stop it, so you just sit in the car and scream. And it’s always at the most predictable times.
For instance, I was dating a guy and right after I realized I was falling in love with the poor bastard I started doing the dumbest things to piss him off.  Mind you, none of it was intentional. I just found myself becoming the exact opposite of the girl any guy would like. I’ll spare you the scandalous details, but it ended in us never speaking again.
And it really is the worst with relationships. Many people tend to set themselves up from the beginning. We expert self-saboteurs like to end the party before it begins. Once the communication, flirtation, etc. starts, we put ourselves into categories based off of our own judgments of ourselves.
Make that make sense real quick.
The other party involved isn’t even allowed to form their own opinion about us, they can’t decide for themselves where they want to take things, because we’ve already done it for them. Because I see myself in a certain light, I assume that men see me in a certain light so I just stand in whatever box I figure they’ll file me in. And if they look at me and see that I’ve already graciously stood there, what are they to do but accept it?
Crazy how hope leads to hopelessness, huh?
You know, I really wish I had some awesome conclusion. A moral or lesson would fit so perfectly within this last paragraph. Unfortunately, I’m not as smart as I look. These glasses really are prescription. Honestly, this is a terrible habit I have. I second guess myself, I lose faith, and I give up. Only thing I can say to that is, “Stop it Sharde!” Well, the fact that I’ve acknowledged that I have a problem is half the battle, right? Hopefully I’ll catch myself before it happens again.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Monday, January 9, 2012

Apes, Cocoa Butter, and Jedi Mind Tricks

So, the other night, I went with a couple of friends to a comedy show. I won't bore you with too many descriptive details, I'll just say that I could count the number of Black people on one hand....if I was born with an extra finger. Anywho, the headliner was a friend of ours. A Black guy...shocker right. But in his routine he made a joke about cocoa butter and due to the lack of pigmentation in the crowd, he had to explain it a bit.

For those of you who are confused, cocoa butter is a mosturizing lotion that Black people use. In fact the only white people I ever see use it are those with stretch marks.

So anyway the joke was made, the crowd laughed, he finished up and the show was over. Following the show, they played some improv games on stage. The first game was like Jeopardy. Someone from the audience would call out a noun (the answer) and the comedians would ask the question (the joke basically.) So we hung around a bit to listen and of course someone in the crowd (a white woman) yelled out "cocoa butter." Everyone at our table tensed a bit. I felt the temperature drop by about 10 degrees. We were on standby.

It may not have seemed like a big deal and really it wasn't. However, because of the joke my friend told and the explanation behind it that linked cocoa butter to Black people, it was kind of a low blow. But of course we weren't supposed to care. So we waited, we listened to a few of the comedians make a few lame, awkward jokes, and then (as we all knew it would) it happened. One of the comedians came up to the mic and said "What is the scientific term for ape semen?"

*vigorously rubs temples*

Now I could look at that as an innocent and highly corny joke. But I've spent almost a week trying to dissect it without it having any racist connotations to it. I can't. There is no way to make sense of that "joke" in relation to the word "cocoa butter" without linking it to Black people and I really don't think I need to explain the oh so epic connection between apes and racist ass white people who are secretly jealous of the size of Black men's penises. No wait, that's not what I meant, but you get what I was saying.

This guy just makes a racist joke and we're all supposed to just laugh at it and shrug it off. And sadly that's basically what happened. We've been so brainwashed to think that racism doesn't exist that when we witness it first hand, we get stuck. White people and their Jedi mind tricks. *waves hand* "Racism doesn't exist anymore, nigger."

In retrospect, I'm actually really disappointed in myself for not reacting differently. For not standing up and cussing his lilly white ass out, for not stomping out of the room and writing a bad review on the venue's website (wait that's my white side kicking in.) But seriously my lack of reaction baffles me. I guess we've just become that used to backhanded racism that it just doesn't phase me anymore.

And yet when a Black woman makes a video about her actual experiences in dealing with white women and the stupid things they say to Black women, its an outrage and all of a sudden Black people are the most racist people on the planet. Damn, after all white people did for us, bringing us to America, renaming us, teaching us English, impregnating us with their babies, housing us in sheds and feeding us their scraps, you think we'd be a little more appreciative.

I digress.

But anyway. I just had to share that experience with you all because I've been dwelling on it for days. Oh and be forewarned, its almost Black history month. If you know me, you know to expect many of these racially fueled rants. :-)