pearldrops

For The Record

2012-01-15T07:12:00.000-08:00

I loved being a student at San Diego State. I loved my whole college experience.

People often ask me, "Don't you wish you could go back?" or "Don't you wish we could do it all over again?" or "Why didn't you stay?" or "Would you live in San Diego again?"

My answers? No, no, no and no.

Let me explain.

I went to San Diego with one singular purpose-- get my degree and move on. Yes, I could have stayed. But by the end of my first year, I was pretty sure that that would not be the case. The city was beautiful. Nice weather, beautiful beaches, decent people, but it wasn't for me to live in beyond my college years. I'm generally a forward thinker*, so for me to linger in the past with hypotheticals such as the above is just not an option; hence, my sharp and final, "No's" to those kind of questions.

There is so much I miss about San Diego/SDSU though..(in no particular order)

The people I met. I met so many amazing people here. I know for sure that some of them will be in my life forever.
My Apartment! The Wood. The Row. 70th St. Apt (Nicole's old place. I basically lived there too, lol). Downtown Studio (Yinka's). The MAC house. Sangamon.
Taco Tuesdays. Downtown, PB, the MAC house, my house, On the Border. Everywhere.
Parties. House parties. Broken up house parties (N.B.). Thirsty for parties (the early years). Greek parties. UCSD parties. Porter's Pub Birthday party.
Student Orgs.
SDSU Capulli Center (Health Services). For when I was sick, when I wasn't ready for an exam (yep). For the fact that I never had to go find a Dr. in SD. (I'm currently in San Jose about to have my 1st ever real Dr.'s visit since my pediatrician days. Sigh.)
SDSU 24hr Library (So necessary sometimes. Yes, even now!). This place saw me through so many sleepless nights.
The (proximity to) Beaches. I didn't go often, but when I did...
My roommate. She killed spiders for me! My other roommate, Sy.
Memories for days..

Ahh, I loved it. I miss it.**

But most of all, I look forward to what comes next.

* My kryptonite at times.
**I'm thinking I might recount my experiences by year before I forget them. Maybe.

I should..

2011-12-13T00:15:00.000-08:00

blog more often.

Hola to the 3 people that read this. LOL.

By Myself

2011-07-10T03:21:00.000-07:00

Lately, I've been trying to make more conscious efforts to do things by myself. I've found that it is so easy to rely on being around the comfort of others. Now, I'm taking the time to learn how to rely on the comfort of myself.

I had success with doing so a few weeks ago. I went to a restaurant with the intentions of getting my food to-go, which I did, but I, instead, chose to stay and eat my food in. The restaurant was neither a fast-fast food joint nor a sit-down. It was somewhere in between; somewhere where people usual eat in two's or more if they decide to dine in. Anyway, I sat down, ate my food and read my book. It was nice.

Today, I decided to go to the beach alone. And it was great!

I sat, wet my feet, read my book, watched the sunset and blasted Biggie's Read to Die in my free pink Virgin America headphones.* I was so nice to be away from my computer/internet/tv.

I had a ball! All by myself. (:

* I let someone borrow my headphones months ago. Never got them back.

Interview

2011-07-01T16:54:00.000-07:00

And few months ago I had a job interview and after a conversation I had today with someone who I will now call a mentor, I can't say for sure that I got the position.

At my internship when I'm sitting and waiting for my boss to come in or when I'm just sitting around after the day is over, I often come across someone new. Well, at least people I have yet to come across. These meetings are pretty much always random. People usually just want to inquire about what this young lady (me) is doing at this place of business. A convo usually strikes from there.

Today I met Mr. H. Initially it was an awkward meeting. I was sitting in the corner doing my Spanish homework as I sat around a to wait for my boss (who is still not here as I write this..lol) to come in. He walks in to speak to Ms. J and I remain quiet in the corner. He is an older gentleman and probably expected me to speak first--something I would normally do, but I didn't feel like detaching myself from the work I was doing. (BTW, just found out that my boss is coming in this afternoon. I guess I'll miss her today.) As he walks out of the office, he stops just outside of the door frame, turns around and says, "Hello young lady." I poke my head around my cubicle and say, "Hello," in return. Aww sh*t!! I probably should have said something first (this is a black owned establishment.. if that means anything to anyone).

I leave to go to the restroom and when I return he's back in the office on his computer. I now introduce myself and apologize. I apologize for nothing specific, but we both knew why I did, as he goes on to say, "Oh, its not a problem. It's never too late to get acquainted," with a smile. I smile back.

I go to sit in the corner where I was previously sitting, but this time I'm facing him, as I know the usual follow up questions are coming: So, what is it that you do here? I'm a student intern from state. I work for S. Major? Public Health. What do you want to do with that? blerg*#$@!, etc. I'm used to these questions, so they don't bother me.

After his battery of questions, he went on to tell me about how he spoke to SAAB (student org., not the car) on campus, and I don't know how, but we got on the topic of interviews. Other than last week, I have never been on an interview that I didn't already know I was going to get. So as you can imagine, I've never really worried about my interview skills. I mean, I'm able to answer questions and present myself well, but I can't say I've ever done an excellent interview.

Mr. H was going on about good interview skills, so in my efforts to stay as attentive as possible, I listened, nodded and agreed to everything what he was saying. I'd heard this all before, but what I didn't know was that he was going to give me a mini mock interview! He was talking, talking, talking and then asks, "What qualities can you bring to the table?" Then he pauses. You know when old people talk and pause, then continue talking? Well, he didn't continue, so I say, "Ohhh, you want me to answer?" I was sooo not ready for this.

I prefaced the question with an explanation about how I have such a difficult time describing myself and qualities about myself. He thanked me for being honest, then paused again to wait for my answer. Aww, sh*t. I thought that was my cop out to end the conversation. It was not.

He went on to ask me a series of questions along the lines of : What qualities do you have? Tell me about yourself. Describe your strengths and weaknesses. All of which I stumbled on and answered horribly. Each time I floundered, he came back with an answer that he would give. His answers were impeccable! They all flowed so well. No stuttering, no looking around, etc. He represented himself well.

He ended our conversation because he has to leave. I thanked him and told him that I have a lot to think about, and a lot to learn. He told me the next time we meet, I should be prepared for another round of questions. I laugh and say ok, and he leaves.

Upon his departure I realize, Oh shit, That was a horrible interview I gave last week. I thought I had the ish, but upon my post Mr. H interview reflection, I see that I may not have it at all.* And even if I do have it, I probably shouldn't based on that interview.

As I was walk out to the parking lot Mr. H is there. He leaves me with this: "It's all about you. Just remember that all the answers they're looking for are between the crown of you head and the sole of your feet. Just don't let them get stuck in your throat. "

I have a lot to work on and a lot to think about. All thanks to a random conversation with Mr. H.

*I was worried because I didn't get a call back. So I called. Turns out my boss missed me while he was doing call backs. I got the job.

My Sister's Visit to San Diego

2011-04-04T20:26:00.000-07:00

My sister came to visit me in San Diego last September. We took a LOT of pictures on her SLR. Here are a few.

We had a lot of fun that weekend.

Paris 2009

2011-02-18T04:50:00.000-08:00

I finally decided to upload pictures from my Euro trip (2 years later). I'm going to post by city.

This is Paris:

Notre Dame

The beds in our hotel were extremely close! (right)

Random fight outside of our hotel

The Pont Neuf Bridge

King Henry IV (left) Police Headquarters. (right)

The Louvre

The Louvre and Pyramids

The Palais Royal metro station

Joan of Arc statue (bottom)

Avenue des Champs-Élysées/ Arc de Triomphe

The Obelisk of Luxor at the center of the Place de la Concorde (left). The Eiffel Tower (Right)

Champs Elysees

The Eternal Flame (left) under the Arc de Triomphe (right)

Views from the top of the Eiffel Tower

?? San Diegans

2011-01-28T03:39:00.000-08:00

I wrote this back in October. Please excuse the blatant and extreme generalizations made in this entry. I only left them in because they were part of a real conversation.

Do not take everything you read as fact. There are exceptions to every rule.. or theory in my case.

Thank you.

My friend Yinka and I decided to go out for a walk/drinks in downtown the other night. Towards the end of the night, we ended up at TGIFriday's (which happens to be situated between two nightclubs-- I'm sure you can image the type of traffic this brings in) for happy hour. We sat, ordered appetizers and talked about a lot of random ish as we usually do when we're together.

Our conversation drifted, but it eventually got to the topic of black males on the east coast and black males the west coast, particularly those in San Diego. We both agreed that the few young black men we've met from the east coast have carried themselves with an air that differed completely from that of their west coast counterparts, though we couldn't put our finger on what it was exactly. I continued to further compare black males in San Diego. I expressed how I believed that black males in San Diego were even still completely different from those of Los Angeles or the Bay Area. She agreed, and again, we couldn't pinpoint exactly why.

We began to throw out ideas. Was it drive? Was it demeanor? Was it their swag? Was it the communities they happened to be raised in? Was it the lack of black community there is in San Diego (I mean, there is a large white supremacist community here)?

Ehh, we shrug if off and are on the the next conversation.

A few minutes later, three young San Diegan (it was obvious) black men walk in to the restaurant. I don't really take note of them until I realize one is walking towards us. He gets to our table and invites himself to a seat. Oookaay. Yinka and I exchange quick WTF glances to each other. I turn around to check to see where his friends went. Oh, The restroom, I realize, as they are walking directly to the back of the restaurant.

"Uhh, Hello," I say. My focus is back on the dude at our table.

"Hi. What are your names?" He asks us.

"Pearl," I say as I extend my arm to introduce myself.

"And yours?" He turns to Yinka.

"Yinka," she says.

"Huh? Inka?"

"Yinka."

"Nika?"

"Yinka," She replies again. She's used to this.

"Ohh, Yinka." He finally gets it. "What kind of name is that?"

"She's Nigerian--," I interject, mostly because I'm half annoyed by all of the repetition. "We're Nigerian," I
correct myself.

"Ooohhhhh, that's beautiful," he says in legitimate awe. "African Queens!"

Really? I thought, and couldn't help but to chuckle under my breath a little bit.

"Whats your name?" Yinka asks.

"Rome," he says definitively.

"What's your real name?" She asks again.

"Awhh, you know I can't tell you that. That's my government name. That's like giving you my social security number or something," he answers.

*blank stare*

By this time, his friends were making their way back to our table where they spotted their friend, "Rome."

They looked as confused as we were initially, so again, I began with introductions.

“Hi, what’s your name?” I asked them as I extended my arm and introduced myself. Yinka did the same. And again, as with Rome, there ensued the expected butchery of her name.

"Inka?"

"Yinka."

"Ninka?"

"No, Yinka," she responds firmly, but politely.

“Ohhhh, Yinka?? What is that Chinese or something?” Friend #1* asks. #2 is a little more reserved. “You do got them Asian eyes...”

Sigh.

“NO,” I speak up. She’s- we’re Nigerian.”

“Ooohhhh,” he says. “African Queens!...What tribe are you from? You speak Swahili?!”

Yinka and I exchanged are-they-seriously-asking-this glances.

“No, we don’t speak Swahili,” I answer. “I’m Igbo and she’s Yoruba,” I add in attempt to answer their question, but I’m cut off.

“I know a little bit,” he says as he proceeds to say something in Swahili in complete disregard to my response.

“You do realize that Swahili is spoken in eastern Africa, right? Nigeria is in western Africa,” I tell him.

“Oh, you don’t all speak it?”

“No,” I reply. “There are a lot of countries in Africa, and a lot of different languages too...” This is my attempt to educate them as much as I can, but again, I’m cut off.

“You know we love us some African Queens!” Friend #1 exclaims.

“Ohh, I had an African Queen on my necklace, but she came off. She was always near my heart. I’m looking for her,” Friend #2 says finally speaking up. He reaches for his cell phone and proceeds to show us the golden Nefertiti charm that fell off.

“Oh,” Yinka and I nod in unison.

Finally one of them asks the others if they’re ready to go. We all exchange farewell pleasantries, and they leave. Yinka and I sit there in silence for a few moments.

They were everything we were just discussing regarding the San Diego black male. Everything we couldn’t pinpoint, they embodied. They were nice, they were pleasant, but they were the San Diego black male we were previously discussing. I understand that this conversation could have happened anywhere and on any coast, but the untimely fashion in which they came confirmed my theory even further. :/ **

*I forgot their names.
**I normally do not generalize because I believe there are ALWAYS exceptions to every rule, but for the purposes of this story, I do.

The Hater Epidemic

2010-10-08T05:12:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I signed onto facebook and the first status I see is this:

If you're grown I'm [going to] need you to take the term "hater" out of your serious vocab. Joking with friends is cool, but if you're serious and every other status has "hater" in it you need to grow up and focus on more important things, like what YOU are doing with your adult life.

If you aren't grown, disregard this message ...and continue with your day. Lol

I couldn't agree any more. It's like she took the thoughts right out of my head. I really thought I was the only who felt that way.

For a while now I've been wondering why the use of the term "hater" has been so prevalent. Seriously, why are people so concerned about their "haters?" And why are they a topic of discussion if they're hating on you? The whole topic just seems so elementary to me.

One of my biggest issues with the use of the word hater comes more so by the use of it in music. One or two lines of a song? OK, pass. But a whole entire song dedicated to people who supposedly hate you?? That baffles me.

Kelly Rowland is my prime example. She is an artist who we can (kinda..( I'm stretching)) say is still looking to be taken seriously as solo artist.* Earlier this year she put out a song called "Shake the Haters Off." Some of the lyrics:

Wake up in the morning
Turn off my alarm and
Get a stretch and yawn in
Start shaking haters off
Start shaking haters off
Yeah

Go and brush my teeth and
Get something to eat get
Fly as I can be and
Start shaking haters off
Start shaking haters off

No, Kelly, I will not begin my morning thinking about shaking my haters off. I WILL shake my head at you for thinking this song is OK. sigh. I could barely get past the first few bars of the song and I can't take her seriously with a song like that.

Oh, and do you remember that song by Maino called "Hi, Hater?" And Rihanna's "Dem Haters," Jay-Z's "Hate" featuring Kanye West**, and the list goes on.

I DO understand that these songs are intended to be motivational or uplifting or whatever, but I still can't get down with them. You will never catch me bumping a song about anyone's "hater," and I sure won't be talking about my own.

Can we leave the hater talk to the youngins?? Like, say, Willow Smith?

Hop up out the bed turn my swag on
Pay no attention to them haters 'cause we whip em off
...
Don't let haters keep me off my grind
Keep my head up and I know I'll be fine..

She can talk about and whip off all the haters she wants to without bothering me. She's 9 and has the right to.

*I say this only because her first two album didn't do well. I still like her!!! I'm not hating! HA!
** Two artists I love!

One Way Ticket

2010-08-14T00:05:00.000-07:00

Alright, I started the first half of this entry the day after I had this convo, but didn't finish it until 2 weeks or so later, so please excuse the choppiness.

My friend, MIH, texts me and asks, “Hey Pearl, can you take me to the airport after you get off work?”

“Sure,” I reply.

After I get off work, I drive over to where he is, pick him up, then make a pit stop to my place, where more of his stuff is stored. I’m tired after my 8 hour shift at work. It’s a little past midnight. I sit and watch as he repacks/reorganizes and we talk.

“MIH, how much was your ticket,” I ask.

“Uhh, $150*. I actually just bought it while I was at ____’s house just now,” he answers.

“WTF? $150? Only? How? No fair,” I say in jealousy.

“Umm, yeah, I bought a one-way ticket.”

I’m wide awake now. “What? A one-way ticket? Why? How are you getting home? When are you coming home?” I’m bewildered. I’ve never known anyone to seriously buy a one-way ticket-- a cross country, 3000 mile, west to east coast one-way ticket.

“I’m staying with homeboy we met on New Years Eve, you know, InPhamy. I don’t know how I’m getting home yet. I’ll figure it out.”

“What?” I’m mostly shocked because I knew none of this. “MIH, you never tell me anything!”

“I don’t tell people things unless they ask. You never asked.”

“Does your mom know you’re going?” I continue.

“Umm, no.” he scoffs.

“Why not?”

He gives me a does-she-need-to-know type of shrug.

“Ugh, man, that’s not fair! I want to be able to just buy a one-way ticket and leave without worrying about being at work, paying rent—without worrying about anything! No questions asked…” I imagine myself packing up and going to the east coast with no worries or restraints. Then I’m cut off…

“First off,” he begins (he usually says this when he’s about to get buck with me… or anyone for that matter), “Do you think I like not knowing where I’m going to sleep at night? Do you think I like not having a home to go home to?** You’re lucky you have a family and a home to go home to whenever you want to. I don’t like being a Nomad***. I do it because I have to.”

I try to think of a rebuttal, but nothing comes to mind. “Well, where do you go for the holidays?” I know, stupid question.

“I’ve spent every holiday since middle school with a friend and their family.”

“Oh,” I respond as I sink back into my seat a little. “When was the last time you talked to your mom?” I ask, more lovingly this time.

“Mmm, I don’t know. I called her last week. She said she would call me back but she never did,” he says nonchalantly.

“Oh,” I respond again as I sink a little further into my seat because I know at this very moment in time, my mom is at home worried and waiting for me to call her back. (I was sick).

He looks up, and see’s me pondering what he just said. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my mom, and I know she loves me. She provided everything I ever needed when I was younger. Yes, we were always moving and I’ve never lived in a place for more than five years, [but I was never unhappy].” He continues on about his schooling, family dynamics and so on. I sit and listen.

My point?

He slapped me back into reality. I needed it. I needed to realize how very fortunate I am. Yes, I know I am fortunate, but every now and then everyone needs a reality check that puts things back into perspective right? This was mine.

I have a family who is ever supportive of me in whatever I do. I have a mother who has always been there to step in when I falter financially (as I do more often than I would like), but still loves me unconditionally. I have two older sisters whom I adore and who only want the best for me. I have a JOB, though I probably complain about it everyday, I’m always grateful for it, especially when I get that check! I’m in school, just one year short of my degree. What more do I need?

I was complaining because I have stability and wanted to “be free” from it. Umm, what? So many people want what I was asking not to have for themselves and their families, but can never attain it.

I'm blessed.

Thanks, MIH... but I'm still mad at you (you know why). <3 Oh, and btw, I started this entry over 2 weeks ago.. MIH? Still not back yet. Come home lil' homie!

* He later told me the ticket was $250, but I swear I heard him say $150.

** There’s obviously more to our conversation that I purposely left out. It’s not my story to tell. Sorry if there is any confusion.

***A nickname I gave to him because he’s always on the move!

My First.. Blog

2010-07-26T21:04:00.000-07:00

I’ve been meaning to start my blog for months. So, today, amidst a lazy summer day and the sudden urge not to go to my summer class, I began to write.

This is a mere intro for what I hope is to come.

Enjoy :)

This is my last year of college before life starts-- I mean really starts. Not to say that I haven’t been living. I’ve had a good run here in San Diego— but I say life is starting to mean there will be no more protection from the institution that is the university, no more buffer to put a wedge between college and the real world, no more splashing in the kiddie pool—it’ll be a full on dive into the deep end. *gulp*

I’m scared (more like terrified), but hopeful.

I’m looking forward to what the other side has to offer, the obstacles I will have to overcome, and the decisions (soooo many decisions) I will make that will continue to shape my life. I’m interested in seeing which friends—of whom I hold so dear— will still be in my life. And I can’t wait to see where my family—whom I hold dear-er— will be.

All that said, this is also the first times in my life where there is no one map, no one plan.* There are many variations of what could be (this is where the terror comes in), but that’s just too many what ifs for my liking (this is where the stress comes in).

Talk about stressful!!

This past year has been tough or extremely stressful, if you will. It was probably one of the toughest years in my 22 years of life. Nothing detrimental happened to me, family or friends—this, I thank God and am grateful for. This past year I’ve been dealing with a struggle/resistance that is internal (things I may discuss in later entries). These things put so much weight upon me that it translated over to my school work, my social life, and to my overall being. I was falling fast and hard.

Slowly, but surely, I’m getting up. Overcoming these things won’t be easy, because that, in turn, equates to working on and changing myself for the better—something I’m continually working on.

Whew! **

Alright, enough of that.

I’m looking forward to what the future has to hold, but until then I will be living this last year of the said “pre life” that is college!

Cue Music: J Cole – Can I live

*Hence Robert Frost’s, 'The Road Not Taken' poem as the background of my twitter page. I was going through! Lol

** I rarely talk about me. Some of my closest friends didn’t even know that.

...

2010-04-19T17:25:00.000-07:00

under construction.