Stuck

finding memo

There were so great cat memes on being stuck, but because I despise cats so much I bypassed ALL THE CAT MEMES for this Finding Nemo meme, which I aptly named in my pictures folder as “finding memo” ๐Ÿ™‚

I’m baaaaccckkkk.

I don’t know why I made a dramatic introduction. It’s not like I have a bunch of followers on this blog ATM. Shoutout to whoever is reading this post right now, though. *tips hat*

Full disclosure: I’m sitting on the couch in my apartment about to take some Tostino’s pepperoni pizza rolls out of the microwave. I ate better as a child, y’know, during the ages when it was more appropriate to eat pizza rolls. Anyway, I digress.

So here I am on a rainy Tuesday evening. It’s been raining/storming on and off for several days. As a result I was without internet for a gut-wrenching 2 days, and I’m already at over 75% of my allotted data. For the month. I listen to a lot of Spotify…

In a stunning series of events/challenges I’ve done some self-assessment. I’ve taken a look at my life, and looked at it for what it is. Structure. Regimen. M-F/9-5/Weekend. Chores, exercise, an obscene amount of grooming, binge-watching shows (although it still takes me forever to actually finish an entire series) and YouTube videos. Sprinkle in some time throughout the week for quiet time (but never enough time) with Jesus, spending quality time with my boyfriend (&& the homies), and with girlfriends who I “have to do this more often” with. Boring. Kind of sad, really.

I took a more-than-brief pause to clean up the pizza rolls plate, and was distracted by Buzzfeed via Facebook aaaaand now I feel like I have an attention disorder. Hmmmm.

Earlier this year I decided that I wanted to transition out of my current job, out of finance, into something more interesting and meaningful to me. If I’m being honest with myself I’ve had short spurts of motivation, and longer spurts of complacency where I haven’t done much digging/applying/networking. I grumble about work and come back the next day, the next month, this fall it’ll be the next year. Why? Because I feel stuck.

I’m toting the line between comfort and progress. Progress requires discomfort – not all the time, but a good bit of the time. I’m so exhausted from this job, that is now increasingly more stimulating in the wrong ways, that I just want to come home and sit. I want to comfort myself from the woes of the day, and in doing so I don’t really accomplish anything for myself.

Over the past couple of weeks a loved one of mine pointed out the monotony of my life, and asked me what I look forward to doing when I get home from work (that doesn’t involve sitting).

— Mind you, I recognize that I’ve mentioned sitting an alarming number of times, but in an effort to minimize whatever judgment is coming my way from whatever random reader(s) I’d like to mention that I’m in Zumba/the gym several times weekly in an effort to still be able to eat ice cream and not look like a blob. So there. —

I didn’t have much to say. I mentioned that I enjoy spending time with my friends and family. I didn’t have any activities or hobbies explicitly my own (outside of activities with the people I care about) to look forward to. That bothered me. A lot.

When I was in college I was constantly stimulated (in the positive ways, as long as I wasn’t procrastinating). With my school work, involvement in student organizations, and such easy access to all my friends, I hardly had enough time left in the day/night for sleep. My life was full ALL THE TIME. It was exhausting, but everything was so well defined and purposeful. I studied what I wanted, had money to do what I wanted (which I’m now paying off to the Federal gov’t and Navient), and had a well-defined path. Take these classes, become involved in these things, graduate, get a job doing the thing, etc.

And you know what happened? I graduated. I moved back home for two years. I started working in a restaurant, feeling inadequate because I didn’t go to college to end up in a job I could have worked…before college. So I took the first legitimate full-time job opportunity to feel a certain amount of pride and worthiness. It was exciting for a brief period of time, and then miserable. I left. Worked a crappy job, worked what I thought was a dream job (but actually a poor fit), left, and now I’m here.

So what now? I have bills and responsibilities. There’s stuff I want to do – nothing fancy. Maybe go to the beach with my boyfriend. Watch the sunset. Eat some tacos. Go to the beach and watch the sunset while eating some tacos with my boyfriend.

I’m older so I know better than I did at 22. People work corporate jobs for the benefits. I like having health insurance. Not sure what my options are going to look like under the current administration. (I’m looking at you human-rights stripping, immorally scary GOP).

Something that I have now that I won’t have as much of in the future is time. Time to practice my violin, to learn tagalog, to work on this blog and make it cool – not just so I feel comfortable making it “public” but so that I’m proud of the platform housing this content.

I’m already frustrated about not having all the time I want to to run through scales and old sheet music, to create and study flash cards for Tagalog, to learn how to edit websites so that I can have a cool-looking blog.

This is a good frustrated, and I’m proud of it.

For the sake of time I’m going to call it quits on this blog post. I had a lot to say, and I’m not quite sure how to tie this all up in a neat bow. Hopefully I’ll be back on here sooner rather than later

Cheers,

J.

Streams of Consciousness

If you’re one of the few people who have decided to follow my blog then buckle your seat belts folks because you’re in for a bumpy ride.

I’ve been in a blog post drought for roughly 3 weeks now? Possibly longer?

Anywho – I’m baaaccckkkk ๐Ÿ™‚

There are lots of things I’ve thought about writing about, but I couldn’t decide on one topic.

This blog post may read similar to a diary of sorts. *shrug*

Let’s talk about microaggressions. Microaggressions are the sort of actions that make me say that I’m tired of white people. That’s not to say that minorities aren’t guilty of microaggressions too because we certainly are. I’ve been the victim of microaggressions from both.

I’m not sure who is following my blog at this point so I’ll be brief here. One of my co-workers tried me recently. Let me say that again. Some dude at work that I have to work with and pretend to like on a regular basis tried me. At work. The place where I make money so that I can afford my bills and pay for food. I wanted to emphasize that for the people in the back.

We use a chat feature at work so that we can blast everyone with useful information. Given that for the most part we’re a bunch of 20 somethings, and that I work with primarily grown-ass men children, the chat is usually full of crack, memes, and bad jokes (often perpetuated by myself).

This dude at work takes a picture of The Donald, and uses it as his chat profile icon. He makes a point to tell me to take a look at it, and asks if I like this new photo. It was irritating. Inappropriate. Targeted. This, ladies and gentlemen, is a prime example of a microaggression – an intentional act used to challenge or mock a characteristic or identity of a person. Oftentimes this characteristic or identity is something that a person cannot change about themselves (or at least not easily) such as race, sexual orientation, physical ability, hair texture, etc. As a socially conscious, unashamedly liberal, woman of color, The Donald literally stands for everything that I don’t. The personal is political.

Grumble. Next topic.

Adulthood is hard. I read what is technically considered a self-help book when I first got out of college called Adulting by Kelly Williams Brown, a then late 20-something herself. The book explored a variety of topics, including relationships, cooking, careers, etc. It was hilarious, and full of actually good advice. I’d like to read this book again now that I’m deeper into my adulthood than I was a few years back.

What I’ve found interesting about adulthood is that I looked at this season of life looking forward to being independent, self-sufficient, and having the answers to things. The reality is that the independence is stressful and costly, most of my home-cooked meals still come from the home I actually grew up in, and I’m learning that I don’t have the answers to most things. I’ve been humbled by recognizing how little I know of the things that I couldn’t wait to “know” about as a child. Does that make sense? I mean, does that sentence make sense? Hopefully my sentiment makes sense.

Another great humbling thing about adulthood is that no ones cares. No one cares that I went to a highly-ranked public university. No one cares that I work a job that requires a degree from some highly-ranked public university, and that I earn a salary with benefits. No one cares that I live in a one bedroom apartment that I (praise the Lord) don’t have to share with any other humans. No. One. Cares.

On the flip side no one cares (or notices that much!) if I fail at something. No one cares if I happen to be really great (or think that I’m really great) at something. These days I’ve found myself jaded. I used to think of myself too highly, and now I struggle to recognize that I’m still smart, accomplished, and capable. I’m not where I want to be, but I am doing well. I’m not in the career that I want to retire from, but I do have a career that allows me the independence that I was looking forward to so much as a child/adolescent/young adult.

What I’m certain of present-day is that I don’t really know much of anything, and that I have so much left to learn about people, the world, etc. I’m making peace with this on the day-to-day. I’m learning to forgive myself for not having access to the people and experiences that could have taught me more lessons and truths earlier in my life. I’m grateful to have people in my life who are understanding of me and my quirks, and (sometimes) my denseness on the basic topics of life.

I’m also grateful for this tasty Mediterranean restaurant 2 minutes away from my apartment. On the flip side I’m also grateful that this zumba class is also 2 minutes away from my apartment on the days/weeks that I consume more calories than I should.

And on that note I’m reminded that I’m trying to drink a gallon of water a day in an effort to offset any junk that I don’t have the self-control not to eat on any given day. In case you were wondering 1 gallon = 16 cups = 128 fl. oz. That’s a lot of water, folks. So I’m going to refill this water bottle (again) and log these 3 additional cups into today’s water intake.

Cheers,

J.

Representation Matters

So I’m watching the Oscars red carpet show – y’know, the show on ABC that precedes the actual Oscars awards show.

I’m not a particularly movie-savvy person. My boyfriend and I JUST saw Hidden Figures. It was fantastic, empowering, and depressing all at the same time. Fantastic because YAAASSSS black girl magic. Empowering because it served as a reminder that black girls are smart, valuable, and can do anything. Depressing because these women had to jump through ridiculous hoops to be recognized. They were all brilliant and diligent. Despite their hard work at NASA they faced all sorts of unnecessary challenges because of their sex and skin color – two things that literally have nothing to do with their intellect or ability.

These challenges still persist today. Many images we see and hear of black people in the media are caricatures and stereotypes. Black men are often depicted as violent and dangerous. Black women are often depicted as loud, bossy, and purely [exoticized] sexual objects (which is not specific to just black women, but nearly all women [of color]). Black men and women are typically depicted as genearlly inferior: less smart, less prosperous, less capable of attaining more respectable roles and privileges in today’s society.

In the age of Oprah and Obama they are still not the “rule,” they are the exception. It sucks. Racism is as alive and well today as it was 40 years ago. Institutional racism exists. Intersectionality matters. Issues of access and equity that have existed since the inception of the United States continue to affect the same marginalized groups, and, therefore, still matter.

Now I could pull out some scholarly articles to serve as “proof” for my rant in this blog post. I can dig through my notes from Black Women in America, Health and Human Rights, Sex and Gender in Society, Justice in Public Policy, etc. If you’re seeking hard evidence for the reality of my existence, and the existence of anyone who is part of a marginalized group then you’re missing the point of this blog post.

The Oscars have officially started, and I’d like to pay attention to this awards show, so I’ll wrap this up shortly.

Today I am still a minority in any place of privilege. I have been very lucky and blessed to have had relatively easy access to healthy food, shelter, and a decent public education in both grade school and college. I work a full-time job that pays a salary with benefits. I am now my own means (via my company) of health, vision, and dental insurance; a 401k to save for my retirement, sick days, and actual paid time off. These things are not entitlements, they are blessings. These blessings grant me a great deal of mobility inaccessible to a lot of others who work harder than I do to earn less money because perhaps the work they do is inaccurately regarded as lesser.

I am one of 3 black women in my office. I’m tired of being the token black girl. In the future I want the Janelle Monaes, the Taraji P. Hensons, the Viola Davises, the Mahershala Alis, the Barack Obamas, the Michelle Obamas, and all of the incredibly noteworthy people of color I’ve neglected to name to be the norm, and not the exception. I want honorable and prestigious roles and awards to feel possible to both my peers and my [future] babies.

And it would just be really freaking great for there to be a bunch more black women and women of color in an office space that hang out with an equally diverse group of men and it NOT be such a strange, rare occurrence.

I’m super happy and grateful for all the people who have helped paved the way for my peers, my family, and myself. In the future I’d like for all my peers to be equally considered and praised, not patronized or overlooked because of characteristics that do not define our intellect, ability, or creativity.

The Oscars is about halfway over, and I’ve been profoundly distracted throughout the course of this blog post. I believe I’m going to call this one quits for the night.

Until next time folks.

-J

Great for all hair types: a lie and some personal woes.

I’ve watched a plethora of make up/beauty-related videos on YouTube over the last month. And since my last post was blatantly a political post I decided to go for a more “friendly” topic for this week’s blog post.

Let’s get started!

Products that indicate that they’re great for all hair types. It’s a lie. It’s always a lie. I really think sometimes that certain products will be well-suited for my type 3C black girl magical curls, but alas! I am mistaken.

And since I’m in the early stages of my blog, and (as of today) I haven’t quite made it public yet I’m not going to shy away from putting any particular lines or products on blast.

Here we go!

For starters, I have what I think would be classified as type 3C s-shaped curls. I’m actually quite proud of my curl pattern, and wish I would have gone natural much earlier in my life. Transitioning to natural made me so much more in tune and proud of my blackness.

As a half-black, half-filipino self-proclaimed (wow lots of hyphens) awkward black girl my racial identity has been a pain point for much of my life (and sometimes continues to be a pain point now). I grew up in a not-so-diverse small-ish town in North Carolina, where I was not only a minority generally speaking, but also a minority within a minority. I listened to indie rock and watched anime, and hung out with the nerdy kids in middle and high school. I figured that since I felt like I couldn’t fit in anywhere I’d kind of sort of fit in with the misfit/outcast crew. Other black girls were sometimes unfriendly, and the vast majority of white kids didn’t consider me black given that I didn’t fit the stereotype of what they would consider your typical black person to look/act/sound like. As a result they’d sometimes demonstrate what I now recognize as racist jokes and commentary assuming that I’d be “cool” with it since I’m not “really” black. Eye roll.

I could write an entire scholarly article about racial identity issues, but the *point* of this specific post is to discuss inclusivity (or lack thereof) in the beauty world. Also – #shoutout to YouTuber Jackie Aina who regularly addresses the lack of inclusivity in the beauty industry, makes some bomb tutorials, and is just really funny and entertaining to watch. I’m waving at you as a fan girl from afar.

For months and months and months and MONTHS I was using a widely available drugstore knockoff of the Wen cleansing conditioner – RenPure cleansing conditioner. Now I really really really REALLY liked the rosemary mint scent – it was really refreshing and helped my scalp actually feel clean. The conditioner itself did have some decent slip. This conditioner (and possibly the remainder of this line) advertises that it’s great for ALL hair types. Now perhaps some products would work better for me than the cleansing conditioner claims to have worked, but I can’t speak for any additional products in the RenPure line since I haven’t tried them personally.

About a month ago I was running low on this product, and was having a harder time than usual finding it at my local Targets, so I chatted with one of my Zumba friends about the As I Am coconut co-wash product.

As I Am is a line of products intentionally made for people with curly hair, and advertises heavily towards people of color. She said that she really likes it (and her hair smells really awesome when she co-washes before class) so I decided to try it. The next morning I co-wash my hair in the LEAST optimal state possible – bent over at the side of my tub (since I had actually taken a shower the previous day but didn’t co-wash since I was about to go to sleep – more on that later). This product was super rich and creamy, and had incredible slip. It was noticeably MUCH easier to detangle my hair (which is a HUGE time saver in the shower), and left my hair super bouncy and more moisturized throughout the day. I’ve been using the coconut co-wash for about a month now, and I feel like my hair is in better shape. My ends are less gross, and Jannine is more happy ๐Ÿ™‚

I do want to follow up on a point I put in parentheses in the previous paragraph – co-washing my hair at the edge of my bath tub instead of taking a conventional shower.

Wash day. Let me tell y’all about wash day. Jesus help me. A full wash day for me looks like this:

In the shower:
-clean my body
-shampoo my hair
-apply deep conditioner and de-tangle my hair

Outside of the shower:
-sit under my portable table-top dryer for 20+ minutes with a conditioning cap over my soaking wet head.
-rinse out the remaining conditioner at the edge of my bath tub
-style my hair with leave-in conditioner and my trusty Curls goddess curls botanical gelle

Additional (not hair related):
-moisturize
-apply face moisturizer and topical acne medication
-put my WHOLE FACE ON (a.k.a. apply make-up)
-put clothes on

The entire process I’ve outlined above takes hours. Literally, hours. As a result I haven’t gone through a formal wash day in about a month. This is actually pretty bad. Oops. :/

Despite the unseasonably warm 70 degree weather here in Raleigh for today and the next several days (climate change is real y’all), it’s still TECHNICALLY the winter. So TECHNICALLY a diligent naturalista (which I strive to be) would deep condition as part of a formal wash day on a weekly basis. But your girl J over here…not exactly about that life.

Sometimes I have stuff to do on a Saturday, like go to a march or a Korean festival. Shrug. And then on Sundays I volunteer in the nursery at my church, and then go to worship, so I’m not super inclined to get up as early as I do for work on a Sunday just to accomplish wash day. Also – Sundays are traditionally the sabbath, so OBVIOUSLY wash day can’t occur on a Sunday ๐Ÿ™‚

I feel like this post has been long. I’ve been working on this on-and-off for the past couple of hours due to various distractions. I’m gonna go ahead and wrap this up here. Kudos to you if you came across my blog, and actually decided to stick around for the entirety of this post.

Until next time, folks.

-J

Feeling myself: a political post

Feelin myself. I’m feelin myself. I’m feelin my – feelin myself. I’m feelin myself.

I may or may not have been listening to Nicki Minaj and Beyonce a few minutes ago.

Additionally, I may or may not have participated in a march yesterday.

The NCNAACP hosted a moral march in Raleigh to defend liberty and justice for all, and not just for a privileged few.

We marched for human rights. We marched for health care access, women’s rights, black lives, climate change, voting rights, LGBTQ rights, public education, the injustices currently faced by immigrants and refugees, and a slew of other causes that I would probably forget to mention in their entirety.

SN: I’m currently watching the Grammy’s so I am EXTREMELY distracted but will try to stay true to the title of this post. The operative word here is try.

First and foremost it was super encouraging and empowering to march with other like-minded people who are disgusted with U.S. government and politics, and want to –

SN II: YES CHANCE THE RAPPER FOR BEST NEW ARTIST

do something about it. People who want to stand up for marginalized groups and the underdog, and who want to ensure that tomorrow is better than today.

I’m pretty profoundly annoyed at the current political climate here in the U.S. I feel especially bad for people like my father who fought for this country in the 70s, lived during segregation, saw incredible progress, and are now living to see that progress threatened by an extremist right-wing government [insert enormous eye roll here].

Sigh. Now’s not the time to back down. Now’s the time to organize and prioritize, and figure out a strategic way to resist and persist. And that’s that.

There’s so much more that I have and want to say on this topic. I’ll bookmark this and follow up later. Expect some other topics in between this political post and future ones.

Cheers.

-J

Blogpost?

I decided to re-launch my blog this evening while sitting at H&R Block looking at an old white man with an unfortunate comb-over.

Hi, I’m Jannine. I’m 25. I live in Raleigh. I work in finance. If you’re reading this apparently you’ve come across my blog one way or another.

Several months ago during one of my rants my boyfriend suggested that I create a blog.

“J! You have so much to say! You should start a blog or a YouTube Channel.”

“Eh babe idk how I feel about that. We’ll see.”

He’s right. I do have a lot to say. And I don’t believe he wasย justย saying that because he’s tired of my rants (though I’m sure that’s certainly part of it).

It’s 2017 and America is nuts. I’m not sure what direction I’d like to take this blog going forward. I’m sure it will contain some political rants, some discussion about my being a self-proclaimed awkward black girl (#shoutout to Issa Rae), some thoughts on rappers/ artists and other happenings in black/urban media.

Perhaps I’ll share some funny stories on my interactions with people in my life and strangers I come across in the streets. Makeup and hair products will likely make an appearance given that I’ve disappointed my middle school self and become interested in such things.

And since I’ve resorted to pulling on several of my thinking curls (more on that in another blog post), I’m going to call this one quits.

Good night, folks!

-J

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