A World of Spinning Lights….

She walked down the block slowly, placing one small step in front of one small step, gently rubbing her tummy with one hand. ‘Why does it hurt so much this month,’ she thought as she tried to soothe the cramps. She arrived at the Chinese place to pick up her order of chicken wings and fried rice. She stepped into the small restaurant, hoping for a slightly cooler atmosphere—it wasn't. She watched absentmindedly as some butch chick and her equally butch boyfriend (?) ordered eight chicken wings and large fries. They finally moved aside and she made eye contact with the Chinese woman behind the glass window.

She opened her mouth to tell the woman that she'd ordered over the phone. Instead she said, "Ah oberred ovah da pone". ‘Why does it sound like I'm slurring my words a bit', she thought as the Chinese woman held up her order and asked if she wanted ketchup. She shook her head 'no', took a step forward and the world became an orb of spinning lights. She managed to make it to the counter, pay for her order and walk gingerly outside--all the while, chanting in her head, 'oh god, please. Just let me get home. Please'.

She stopped and leaned against the window of the Laundromat next door. She placed one hand against her mouth to push back the nausea, the other she placed against her closed eyes and prayed for the world to stop playing dress-up as a spinning kaleidoscope of lights. Slowly and a bit afraid, she opened her eyes. 'Better. Thank god.'

She continued down the block and a half home. 'Just need to get home. It'll be alright if I just get home'. She made it across the street, down the eight stairs leading into her building, through the suddenly heavy front door and into the steel elevator; she managed to press the button for the 6th floor as the spinning began anew. “Almost there”, she muttered, just as the world lurched violently and her head hit the elevator panel. A voice seemingly far away was barely heard.

"....you....kay...?"

She shook her head softly to clear it, so she could understand what was being said.

"Are you okay?"

She brought a trembling hand to the bridge of her nose and squeezed, before responding, "I'm just... a lil... dizzy". She took a deep breath, put a hand against the elevator wall to both hold her up and push off so that she could stand straighter. Everything lurched again before she could completely balance herself, her hand against the wall the only thing keeping her standing.

"What apartment are you?" she heard, or thought she heard.

"Six....twen...ty...three" she replied to the faraway voice, trying with everything in her, not to throw up. She was led out of the elevator. Holding onto a strong forearm, she slowly and blindly followed the stranger, trying not to be overwhelmed with thoughts of fear, confusion, wonder embarrassment and fantasy, each vying to be uppermost in mind.

What the hell is wrong with me anyway? A brain tumor? Cancer? Yeah right, probably just a combo of not eating anything, getting my period and the heat--it is fuckin 97 degrees. How would I have gotten home by myself? Who is this guy anyway? I guess not all ghetto black dudes are without manners. Does this make him my knight in shining armor? Wonder if he's cute? Right now, he's just a mess of color and light. I would probably crush on him if I could see his face and it was appealing enough. Doesn't every girl dream of being rescued--and here I thought I was immune to such girly sentiments. God, this is so fuckin embarrassing, I'm like a blind handicapped old woman. Good thing, I don't know what he looks like. Oh fuck...are we there yet? I really gotta throw up...

They finally arrive at apartment 623 and she breathes a shaky sigh of relief. "You gonna be okay?" the knight, I mean stranger asks. "Y-yes. Thank you so much," she says and rings the bell. She'd just needed to get home and now she had....everything would be just fine.

 

So….you’ve probably guessed it, but this is what actually happened to me today. It was so damn scary. I’m hardly sick. I only get a cold twice a year. That’s it. So, when things like this happen, it really frightens me, making me feel really vulnerable. To sort of lessen that fear, I decided to write it as a story, one with a bit of humor in it.

Did anything like this happen to anyone else? Was it just as scary and/or embarrassing? Tell me about it in the comments.

Until next time,

Tuma

Life is Funny,

Except when it’s not and your world suddenly becomes a spinning ball of light!

Big Sister Pranks!

I was puttering away on my brand new Asus Eee Pad Transformer tablet when my young sister slammed into my room. “Fatuma! Fatuma! The c-c-comp-p-pu…,” she struggled to say as her stutter became worse than usual. My hands had already paused on the tablet’s keyboard as I struggled to contain a smirk before finally looking up—a seemingly bored façade in place. “What is it? Slow down and spit it out.”

“The- the c-c-computer is fr-freaking out! Come look,” she yelled frantically, pulling on my arm.

“Okay, okay. I’m coming,” I grumbled as I followed her to the living room and stood before the family desktop computer. “What’s wrong with it?” I asked after a minute of nothing actually happening.

“It was moving by itself,” she replied.

“Alright, try what you was doing before,” I suggested as I sat on the nearby couch and resumed puttering on the tablet I’d bought along.

“Fatuma! Fatuma! Look...it’s doing it again! It’s controlling itself!” I looked up struggling to hide my amusement. “Now, it’s typing,” she screeched loudly, just as Microsoft Word was opened and the following words appeared on the screen in bolded, red, Calibra, size 14 font:

WHO ARE YOU?

WHO AM I?

WHERE AM I?

“What’s going on”, little sister continued to freak out as I began to laugh hysterically. “Try- try closing it”, I stuttered trying to catch my breath.

“O-okay,” she said reluctantly as she edged towards the computer to close the screen. “No, I don’t want to save you,” she muttered anxiously as she clicked “no”. A few seconds later, Microsoft word re-opened and these words appeared in a larger font size:

WHY DID YOU CLOSE ME?

HOW DARE YOU?!

My sister worked herself into a frenzy. “Fatuma! I closed the window and now it’s asking me why I closed it. I’m freaking out! I’m freaking out”, she yelled as she did just that and ran for the phone sitting next to the monitor, just as these words appeared:

SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN…

“Faaatuuumaaaa!!!!” she cried. “It said to sleep with one eye open. I’m gonna die”. She was nearly hyperventilating as she hysterically dialed my dad’s number.

‘No, I’m gonna die,’ I thought as I fell to the ground, holding my stomach in uncontrollable laughter.

“Daddy! The computer’s freaking out…But, it’s important…O-okay…bye”.

‘Hahahaha’ I cackled manically as I laughed even harder. ‘R.E.—J.E.—C.T.E.D. Rejected’, I sang amusingly in my head imitating an old Zoey 101 episode. This was just getting funnier and funnier. ‘Who knew it would work out so well?’ I thought gleefully.

Meanwhile, dear little sister mine continued to freak and panic. I finally took pity on her before her little heart gave out. “C-calm down. It- it was me. It was me,” I choked out in between bouts of laughter.

“Whaaa?”

I explained about a new android app I discovered called Splashtop Remote Desktop. I explained how it allowed me to be able to take control of a computer. I explained how I was playing a prank. I explained how it was all me being the typical evil older sis.

After I finished, she glared at me for a long time without speaking. Then she said just one thing with as much menace as she could muster, “YOU sleep with one eye open,” and returned to using the not-really-haunted-computer.

And that my friends was the story of the time I played a prank on my little sister.

 

Interested in the android app that allowed me to do this? Here are the links:

Splashtop Remote Desktop App - $4.99

Splashtop Remote Desktop App - HD Version - $8.99

Splashtop Remote DEsktop - PC/MAC Software

 

What pranks have you played on your siblings? I want to know, so leave your story in the comments!

Until next time,

Tuma

Life is Funny,

Especially when you’re a sinister-prank-playing-older-sister-with-a-lovable-but-gullible-younger-sis.

KONY2012 - Help Stop the Atrocities of the Joseph Kony and the LRA in Uganda and Central Africa

I don't want to do my usual rants, because this is too important and the video speaks for itself.
So, just three words:

WATCH THIS NOW! 
Then Click Read more below to for a quick overview of the conflict, 
which is just as new to me, as it may be to you).

KONY 2012 from INVISIBLE CHILDREN on Vimeo.


WHAT YOU CAN DO?

• LIKE THIS VIDEO
• SHARE THIS VIDEO
• Go to Invisible Children and KONY2012 to learn more and Donate.

African American Firsts: Published Poet

Miss Phillis Wheatley had been considered the first African American published poet before that title was snatched away from her in the 20^th century. Poor Philly. =(

It was discovered that Jupiter Hammon was actually the first, as his poem “An Evening Thought. Salvation by Christ with Penitential Cries” had been published in New York in 1761.

Wheatley’s was published in England in 1773, but being female gives her serious brownie points in my book.

Phillis Wheatley was born in what would most likely be present day Gambia (where my family is from! What a coincidence?!). She was bought over as a slave when she was about 7 or 8 and sold to a rich tailor in Boston by the name of John Wheatley. This was 1761. Johnny and his wife Susannah treated Philly with kindness (as much kindness that could be treated to a slave) and allowed her to learn how to read. Philly was one smart cookie! She learned English in 16 months and without any formal education was easily reading the Bible and other classical works of literature—sometimes in Latin!

In 1773, she took a trip to England with her master’s son Nathanial. During her visit she published her book of poetry titled, “Poems on Various Subjects: Religious and Moral”. Soon after she returned, both her master and mistress died! Oh, the sorrow.

Freed after the death of the Wheatleys, she tried earning a living on her own to no avail. And what do many women do when they can’t take care of themselves? Find a man to do it for them! She marries John Peters, a free black man in 1778. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a happy marriage. Cheater? Wife beater? Lazy SOB? The sources don’t say. Though, he does end up in prison for debt—so a Gambler? Her story gets even sadder! During her marriage, two of her three children die as little babes. After the death of her husband, Philly is forced to work at a boarding house. In 1784, she dies at the age of 31, alone and poor, with her third child buried in her arms.

Doesn’t Philly deserve to be remembered just a little? Below is a sample of her poetry.

To a Lady on the Death of her Husband.

GRIM monarch! see, depriv'd of vital breath,

A young physician in the dust of death:

Dost thou go on incessant to destroy,

Our griefs to double, and lay waste our joy?

Enough thou never yet wast known to say,

Though millions die, the vassals of thy sway:

Nor youth, nor science, not the ties of love,

Nor ought on earth thy flinty heart can move.

The friend, the spouse from his dire dart to save,

In vain we ask the sovereign of the grave.

Fair mourner, there see thy lov'd Leonard laid,

And o'er him spread the deep impervious shade.

Clos'd are his eyes, and heavy fetters keep

His senses bound in never-waking sleep,

Till time shall cease, till many a starry world

Shall fall from heav'n, in dire confusion hurl'd

Till nature in her final wreck shall lie,

And her last groan shall rend the azure sky:

Not, not till then his active soul shall claim

His body, a divine immortal frame.

But see the softly-stealing tears apace

Pursue each other down the mourner's face;

But cease thy tears, bid ev'ry sigh depart,

And cast the load of anguish from thine heart:

From the cold shell of his great soul arise,

And look beyond, thou native of the skies;

There fix thy view, where fleeter than the wind

Thy Leonard mounts, and leaves the earth behind.

Thyself prepare to pass the vale of night

To join for ever on the hills of light:

To thine embrace this joyful spirit moves

To thee, the partner of his earthly loves;

He welcomes thee to pleasures more refin'd,

And better suited to th' immortal mind.

Are you completely hooked? Want to read her entire published book?

Go here: http://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/409/pg409.html

There’s little to be known about Jupiter Hammon, on the other hand. He was born a slave around 1720 (exact d.o.b unknown) and owed by Henry Lloyd of Long Island. The Lloyds allowed Hammon to attend school and so he learned to read and write. With their help, he also published his first work in New York—“An Evening Thought.”—in 1761, the same year that Wheatley was bought to the states. As the Lloyds were fervent Christians, so became he and his poetry drips with religious doctrine and admonishment. He continued to write various poems, even including one addressed to Wheatley acknowledging her skill as a writer (or rubbing salt in her wounds about no longer being the first published poet? Just kidding, that happens years later, remember?). His most notable work, published in 1787, is a prose piece titled, “An Address to the Negroes of the State of New York,” urging blacks to be true to their masters. At the same time, he disapproved of the institution of slavery and argued for the freedom of younger slaves. He was last heard about in 1790 and thought to have died before the early 1800s.

Below are the first few lines of “An Evening Thought”.

AN Evening THOUGHT. Salvation by CHRIST, WITH PENETENTIAL CRIES:

Composed by Jupiter Hammon, a Negro belonging to Mr Lloyd, of Queen's-Village, on Long-Island, the 25th of December, 1760.

Salvation comes by Jesus Christ alone,

The only Son of God;

Redemption now to every one,

That love his holy Word.

Dear Jesus we would fly to Thee,

And leave off every Sin,

Thy tender Mercy well agree;

Salvation from our King.

Salvation comes now from the Lord,

Our victorious King;

His holy Name be well ador'd,

Salvation surely bring.

Dear Jesus give thy Spirit now,

Thy Grace to every Nation,

You can read the rest here: http://xtf.lib.virginia.edu/xtf/view?docId=chadwyck_aap/uvaGenText/tei/chaap_D046.xml&chunk.id=d3&toc.id=d3&brand=default

His extoling of Philly’s poetic talents are below in the first few lines of “An Address to Miss Phillis Wheatly”.

I

O come you pious youth! adore

The wisdom of thy God,

In bringing thee from distant shore,

To learn His holy word.

II

Thou mightst been left behind

Amidst a dark abode;

God’s tender mercy still combin’d

Thou hast the holy word.

III

Fair wisdom’s ways are paths of peace,

And they that walk therein,

Shall reap the joys that never cease

And Christ shall be their king.

Are you loving this stuff and simply must have more? Go here: http://poetry.about.com/library/weekly/blhammontowheatley.htm

So, today’s African American firsts are published poets, Phillis Wheatley and Jupiter Hammon.

 

Have requests about next African American firsts post. Leave your suggestion in the comments and I’ll see what I can do!

 

Until next time,

Tuma

Life is funny.

References:

"Wheatley, Phillis." American Authors, 1600-1900 (1938): Biography Reference Bank (H.W. Wilson). Web. 1 Feb. 2012.

"Hammon, Jupiter." American Authors, 1600-1900 (1938): Biography Reference Bank (H.W. Wilson). Web. 1 Feb. 2012.

James A. Rawley. “The World of Phillis Wheatley.” The New England Quarterly , Vol. 50, No. 4 (Dec., 1977), pp. 666-677. Web. 1 Feb. 2012.

“Phillis Wheatley”. Wikipedia. Wikimedia. N.d. Web. 1 Feb. 2012

“Jupiter Hammon”. Wikipedia. Wikimedia. N.d. Web. 1 Feb. 2012

African American Firsts – Celebrating Black History Month

Black history or the history of any racial and ethnic group should always be celebrated year around by those who are a part of that culture.
Regardless, like many of the bazillion other blogs out there, I’m going to celebrate Black History Month by creating a series of daily posts dedicated to African American firsts. This first post will serve as an archive.
Click the links below to see the individual posts and learn about the first African Americans to do everything and anything!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

First African American Published Poet

My 20th Year of Existence (2011)–April to August

Part two of my 20th year, the months of April to August were both anticlimactic and significant. Anticlimactic because I spent a lot of it being a total waste of human life, and significant because of a few key events.

To start, after coming back from my trip to the motherland, I did a lot of bumming around. As I wrote in my journal on April 24th,

“I have never—in my 19 years of life on this earth—felt as useless as I do now. I feel like such a waste of air. My days have no real purpose. No school. No work. No Religion. No saving the planet, or feeding the hungry. Basically, I suck”.

In those first few months before I eventually got a job, I spent my days playing on my new sewing machine (on better, more constructive days), or on my computer spending hours reading manga, and watching anime and Asian dramas. If you interested in some of the series I’d watched during that time, visit my review blog at: Looney Express Reviews.

I needed structure, a schedule, which I didn’t have, so I started to slowly wither with idleness. My sleep schedule was totally screwed up with me staying up all night and sleeping all day, like a damn vampire, except without the sexiness! I would lucky to eat one proper meal, so I was too damn lazy to get up and make something, so I relied on the instant gratification of chocolate and gummi worms.

^{Lestat over Edward Cullen ANY day!}

When I wasn’t being a total waste of human flesh, I was doing a bit of soul searching. I realized that I was becoming a little bitter about my life and the diminishing of my childhood dreams. I’ve always wanted to experience the world and life to the fullest. I fantasized of traveling the world and taking photographs of the world’s treasures and awe-inspiring sights. I wanted to become a linguist and study several languages. I wanted to become cultured—attend concerts, festivals, see plays and musicals. But so many things continue to stand in my way—religion, family responsibility and my own fears and insecurities. I soon got past all of that. Thankfully, I’m too damn cheerful and determined to remain depressed and sullen for long.

In May, I finally got a job as a sales associate at Macys in White Plains. The job was exhausting and a pain in the ass, but it was nice to see money going into my checking account every week, but by the end of the summer, I don’t know where the HELL the majority of my money went! You don’t realize how much money you’re spending, until it’s all spent!

New York is Number One, err…Six!

I was so damn proud when NY became the sixth state to allow for Gay Marriage in the end of June. As excited as I was though, I was also greatly conflicted. As I was watching the news with my dad, I had to hide my excitement and pride and disgust towards my dad as he sprouted his right-wing religious doctrine rants. And I start to feel guilty for not condemning gays like other Muslims. But being who I am, that lasted about 30 seconds and I was like Fuck this, religion is a personal thing, so who cares what anybody else believes. It only matters how I interpret my own religion and if I’m okay with my feelings, then the world is an okay place!

Rye Playland Outing with Little Sis!

In July, and little sister and I went to Rye Playland for the first time. It was a lot of fun. We got on the Metro North and had a total blast. My little sis said it was “the best day of her life”, but she says that every time I take her out! lol

   

Officially an Adult – First Credit Card

You’re not an adult when you turn 18, not even at 21 when you can legally get wasted, it’s when you start acquiring debt via Credit Card! Got the Capital One Journey Card with just a $500 limit, which was nearly maxed out because of textbooks! Arg! I’m still paying it back! Not. Cool.

First Hurricane of NY! Cool!

Yes, I was actually excited about the hurricane warning in NYC on the 27th of August. I mean, we’ve never had a major natural disaster in my lifetime, so it was kind of cool. Of course, I was extremely disappointed that it was just like a regular rainstorm. *pout*

That’s it for now. Next is the last part of my year, Sept. to Dec. God, going back to school after 6 months was such a pain!

Hasta La Vista,

Tuma

Life is Funny

My 20th Year of Existence (2011) – January to March

The months of January-March were all about firsts. First time flying. First time visiting my native country—The Gambia. First time meeting my grandmother and the rest of my extended family.

My parents came to the USA 21 years ago as immigrants. My dad has been a citizen for a few years and has visited back home a few times over the years, but my mother has not. In 2010 she was finally granted permanent resident status and we immediately began planning a trip. I cannot believe how it must feel to not see your family for more than 20 years, especially considering how young my mom was when she came to this country, barely 19. It was a truly emotional experience for my mother and for me as well.

Everything was just so different from what I’m use to. The second the plane began its descend, I knew. “Uh, no, looks like we’re not in Kansas anymore”.

The first words out of my mouth were “This is the airport?!” In my thoughts— ‘What the hell?! Figures they’re going to land the plane in the damn bushes!’ My only defense for that slightly ignorant and offensive line was that we’d been flying for nearly 2 days. We had left NYC’s JFK airport around 1pm on the 12th of January and had arrived in Banjul (the capital) at 2pm the next day (with a 6 hours layover in Brussels, Belgium)!

My uncle came to pick us up and we went over to my dad’s compound (where we would stay with my uncle who lives there and helps maintain the place). We spent about 3 weeks in Serekunda (area near the capital), getting clothes sewn, visiting with my younger brother who’s been living and going to school there for a few years. After, we made our trip to my mom and dad’s villages—Dingiri and Missira, respectfully (or aka Bumfuck 1 & 2). Took us nearly 10 hours to drive there and believe me when I say it was not in luxury  or comfort. We were crammed into a van with 10 people total, there was an African man from Spain who was a little too friendly and wouldn’t shut up, I had to pee in a hole in the ground, my baby sis got sick and threw up—It was not a fun ride.

Well, at least now, I can say that I’ve gone cross-country before. So, what if it was a reallly teeny country!

We went to my father’s home town, Missira first, technically since my mom got married, it’s her official hometown too (small African village politics! lol). We spent about 4 days there, until we learned that someone from my mom’s village had come to visit and had a car (cars are not to be taken for granted there).

Dingiri is only about a 45 minute drive from Missira and once there… I finally met my last living grandparent, my mom’s mom. It was… I can’t even truly describe the various emotions I went through watching my grandmother finally lay eyes on her daughter, seeing the joy, and the relief that she lived long enough to see her third daughter, the same emotions as her eyes shifted to us, her three grand-daughters, It was powerful, important and something to be forever remembered.

I won’t go on to list the dozens of family members I met during my trip (hell, I couldn’t even keep track of them). I’ll just say, with multiple wives and 3-4 generations…it makes for a lot of people. However, that was the most important aspect of my trip. Despite, the lack of plumbing, internet, plentiful food, and comfort, I got to meet family, people who will always care no matter what, simply because the same blood runs through their veins as through mine. Two months of literally being constantly surrounded  by people, I realized that living in the States with only my immediate family is a little bit lonely. Major lesson learned from this trip? Family truly is the most important thing someone can have.

Top Row: My cousins in Serekunda and my younger sisters, Cousins in Missira with my younger sisters, My grandfather (mom’s dad) who passed about 2 years ago,

Bottom Left: My mom’s eldest sister and her family and me and my sister

Center: My grandmother, her sister (my great-aunt?) and my mom and baby sis.

Bottom Center: My mom’s second eldest sister and her kids.

Bottom Right: My lil sisters and my uncle.

Other lessons Learned?

• Don’t follow your cousins when they go out at night to steal mangoes from an old man’s property….You end up running in the dark!
• Don’t then eat said mangoes before they have completely ripened, because while their African intestines are used to it, your delicate American ones will have you running to the bathroom..in the dark…with the sheep and goats scarring the crap of you and near death by sheer EMBARASSMENT, cause you made your little sis come with you and stand guard against the things that go bump in the dark and made her cover her ears as your body noisily rejected the mangoes. And despite her solemn promise never to mention the event again…it still comes up! Grrr…
• There must be something in the water over there. Because the usually tomboyish me, became utterly girly. It was actually kind of disgusting. I mean, pretty African clothes, heels, make-up and hair all done!  HA HA
• There’s no such thing as adolescence. There are few young unmarried girls. And I was older than all of them! When I told them I was 19, still unmarried and without a fiancée or prospect in sight..they were shocked! Girls marry so young, at 14, 15, 16 years of age. But then again without any formal schooling in the villages, it’s like they may as well get married and serve some sort of purpose other than being an extra mouth to feed. lol
• The amount of freedom given to little kids is not good for my heart. As a city kid from the Big Apple, I could not take my baby sis (who was 2 at the time) just roaming all over the compound on her own. Compounds are like several building built near one another holding an extended family. Think a gated community, without the giant gate and a two-year-old going whenever she pleases….yea, I was having near heart attacks too.
• All of the sand in the world somehow ended up in the Gambia. There are no roads basically. Maybe like only 5% (Dunno, number pulled outta my bum, but it’s not a lot from what I’ve seen) of the country is paved and cemented. The capital, Banjul definitely has sidewalks and paved roads. Cities and Town near the capital, like Serekunda, have major/main roads paved. However, side roads or anywhere in the villages…is just sand. It’s nearly IMPOSSIBLE to get used to walking in sand when you’re lived your own life on concrete! Sand between toes, in shoes, on hems of clothes..everywhere! God, I’m never going to a beach for as long as I live, I’m so sick of sand. (Take that, Sand!)
• Taking a semester off from school to travel sounds great in theory, but sucks when you return and have nothing to do. More on that next post.

That’s how I spent the first two months of the year 2011. Next is the months of April to August.

Until next time,

Tuma,

Life is Funny, except when it’s not.