7 sinners

I’m dying, I am poisoned! … Hmm you’re lost? Understandable… Let me tell you what has happened. Today I saw this yellow pudding like thing in the kitchen, so I assumed it was just vanilla pudding. I took a spoon, plunged in it and started licking it. At that moment I realized it was no pudding at all but gross avocado liquor. I drank almost a full bottle of water to get rid of that horrible taste in my mouth but it just didn’t want to go away. Puke! Absolutely gross!

I once made a promise that I would not talk about black men and how much adoration I had towards them because some say it made me look like I loved every guy as long as he was black. Because that was not true and because I also wanted to prove it was not true, I decided to minimize the share of black men in my blog entries. I already broke that promise last time with the part of The Nude Book, and today I am going to break that some promise yet again. But understand that there is a difference: I do not like every black man on this planet, only very few actually, but I do like watching a fine black man. Does that make it a sin? Lust can be a sin, but there is no lust involved in this. Lust is when you desire the body you see, tempted to touch it and do certain things with it. That is not what I am about, when I see a picture of a gorgeous looking man, I look at it with the idea in mind that he looks beautiful, but never with the idea that I like him over his body or over the fact he is black. This is probably something very difficult, or almost impossible to understand for many men because they often have a different look at beauty and beautiful things. So screw all the preconceptions people might have when they read this but I like watching beautiful things and that includes gorgeous men but also young horse playing in the spring sun or cute little puppies!

Where was I? Oh yes breaking the promise! Well I found this one blog that gave me some serious inspiration about certain things! Get your mind out of the gutter Lolu, I am a good girl and I’ve always been. But what I was thinking was that I should make this “hunk of the month” competition! Everyone knows that, to me, the stereotype of the perfect male (just the looks, not based on personality) is Tyson Beckford. Because I don’t want to fall into stereotypes nor do I want to be predictable, I will not nominate Mr. Beckford for hunk of the month, but instead I will go for … Mathieu Edward. He is a French singer who was the runner up in Star Academy 7 and released his first album last year that was a nice mixture of up-tempo R&B and more soulful ballads. What I like about this guy are, beside the voice, his eyes. They got a special shape that makes them both rare and mysterious.

In exactly one month, I turn 21. Geez, am I getting that old already? It seemed only yesterday that I was rocking my diapers and now I am already getting my first wrinkles and grey hair. Sniff sniff, cry cry. I don’t want to get older anymore. I hope they soon find a spell for eternal youth. Joking, or not…

Monday 2009/02/23

I hate winter for sure. The lack of sun is taking up all my energy that is left in my body. So just to fool my mind a little bit, I decided to make one of my favorite summer dishes, being home made sun dried tomatoes with fresh basil bread, it tastes the best when it is still a bit warm, with a mozzarella topping. So I started looking for fresh basil, but I never imagined it would be this hard to find some! The supermarkets didn’t have it fresh, only packed in plastic and that just doesn’t taste the same. After some more store hopping I finally found fresh basil and also the sun dried tomatoes. So I got home, chopped the tomatoes and basil in smaller pieces, mixed it through the bread paste and put it in the oven… After two hours the whole house smelled like a southern casa… After cooling down for a few hours, the bread was ready to be eaten. I opened the mozzarella and topped it on the bread together with Italian Parma ham. Tricking my mind into believing it is summer didn’t work but it tasted damn good!

I’ve been listening to Grandmaster Flash’ new album yesterday. For those who do not know him, please just keep living in denial that 50 Cent is the best rapper and did not contribute a large part to killing true hip-hop. The album was ok but nothing more than ok. I mean I am still stuck in the days when Grandmaster Flash & the Furious 5, Eric B. & Rakim, Afrika Bambaataa, … ruled the world of hip-hop. This album makes an effort to go back to those days, but yet I feel they did not dare to turn back the time completely because many younger listeners might not like the raw and edgy music hip-hop used to be… Talking about those younger listeners who never got to live the hip-hop golden years (to me it was the late 80s and early 90s), I saw this one poll that almost caused a heart attack. It was about classic hip-hop and there was a question about who is the most influential rapper. Tupac Amaru Shakur was voted the most influential rapper. This I can still understand because he had some very deep lyrics that portrayed social awareness, even though I still believe that his death has something to do with his status because he is not the best rapper when it comes to his flow, that is hands down Rakim, but the way he died made him an icon. Personally, I doubt he would have been this famous if he were still alive. Though I am happy his legacy lives on and that I am a proud owner of all his CDs. But back to the poll, some 13-year-old girls found it necessary to vote for Soulja Boy as most influential rapper ever because he was rated higher than Rakim. For Christ sake! What did that kid prove? One thing for certain: how to make a crappy hit single about a ridiculous dance that 13 year old boys and girls like dancing to. Everyone knows I am a Rakim fan and for a reason. Ask any true hip-hop fan or do your own research about the development of hip-hop and you will see how everyone was amazed by this totally new flow he introduced to the game… Many rappers follow his lead (or just roughly copy his stile), for example Nasir Jones in One Mic (considered as one of the best hip-hop songs). So if Soulja Boy is considered a great influence on hip hop and its development, then I prefer to be stuck in the early days of hip hop and never take a leap to the present.

Something totally different and controversial, or not if you know me. A black man’s body is just superior to any other race. Well not only the body, also the mind, soul and history, but that I will save for a later entry if you allow me. Today I prefer to focus on the body. I was reading one of the blogs I follow and it had an entry about The Nude Book, a book that focuses on portraying the black body in a very artistic way, even as a tribute to the beauty God created. The author slash photographer Ogundiran says he wants to make the physiques of his models "look glorious and desirable" and for the book to "bring together all shades of black, different body types, diverse attitudes and the originality of what a beautiful black man is." I’ve seen some previews from the book and I must say he succeeded in his goal. Some men are the most handsome ones I have ever seen, not in a sexual manner, but in a creative and artistic way.

Update

It has been a long while since I posted something on here. It is not that I did not have time, it is just that I had no idea what to write. I think you could say that I have some sort of writer’s block and nothing really exciting happened to me…

I do want to let out some frustration though. I am sick and tired of living at home, and this for a very simple reason, the only reason actually: my mother! Last Friday she hit me a black eye because I didn’t want to get out of ‘her’ sofa, Thursday she forced me to sit on the train for hours just to go get my exam results (she just couldn’t stand the fact that I was home 5 whole days and she had to work) and today she put this hideous closet in my bedroom while she damn well knows I hate closets in my bedroom. I’m just sick and tired of her. All she needs to do is back off, but no, she wants everything her way. I already threw the closet out of the room again and I received the threat that if it isn’t in my room again very soon, she’ll kick me out of the house. That would actually be a blessing!

Valentine’s Day is just the worst day of the year for multiple reasons! First reason is that it is just too commercial. Everywhere you go, you see roses, hearts and everything that goes with it. Second, it is too smooch! Why does someone need a day to show that they love that person? Every day should be memorable and special. Fine, I admit, I shed a small tear when I received this one Valentine’s wish… But that was it!

Some days ago TMZ released pictures of a beaten up Rihanna. No man should ever lay his hands on a woman. I really hope she doesn’t go back to him because Chris needs serious help with his anger! And with this one are his CD’s deleted from my iTunes library!

And oh, Lolu, thanks for the preaching. Let’s just hope it works out. Deep down I think I still hope it works out, even though I know I should not hope on it… We’ll discuss that some day over the phone or chat.

The voyage of life

After all the misery I had the past week, I needed time to think, time to renew my energy. This was the main reason I fled to Paris. A friend of mines bought an apartment building over there, but that was only an excuse I used to escape my emotions and environment. Apartment isn't the right word though, it is more like a ruins. I would have taken a picture of it if my camera's battery didn't bail out on me. Anyway, with a lot of work, those apartments can turn into beauties.

Paris has always had a special place in my heart. It is only a four hours drive from my home, but most of all, it is the town that largely contributed to make me the woman I am today. Many important changes have happened in that town and those changes have had a large impact on my life. Those who know me personally might know what I am talking about, for those who don’t, never mind, it is not that important.

I will try to show you why Paris has been this important in my life and maybe then you might understand why I always flee to this city when I have something in mind.

Eiffel Tower - Early forenoon

I believe it was the early 90s, 1990 or 1991 I think. This was my first contact with Paris. Because there was no Belgian surgeon that could help me, my parents ended up in France, looking for one that could help me. It wasn’t a life threatening illness or anything; it was just a little something. So as a little kid, I ended up in this large Paris hospital for a surgery that would change my life drastically. It has brought change in my life, positive change, but it often also made me the centre of derision. So from a young age, I’ve learnt to just let people talk and don’t pay attention to it. It hasn’t always been easy because people can be cruel. But in the end, I should praise myself very lucky because even though I don’t remember much of those months I’ve spend there, I do remember one of the other patients. I believe it was this young Indian girl and she had pins in her head attached to this device so the neck/back didn’t have to carry the weight. It was so much worse than what I had to deal with and yet she was always smiling and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her cry. So if she can be happy with her disabilities, then why couldn’t I?

Eiffel Tower @ night - Apartment (or should I say ruins?) view

Over the years I had to go back at least six to seven times a year for a regular check-up. But the last years, we had found someone closer to home so we didn’t have to drive all the way up to Paris. So that was the end of my relationship with Paris, or so I thought.

As a child, you look at things differently than as a grown-up. I don’t remember much from the early years, only some events/things. The first thing I think about is the reflecting glass before entering Paris capital itself. I still don’t know what the wall was for, but it was made of reflecting mirrors in flashy yellow, green and red. My mom always had to wake me up when we passed the wall because I was totally fascinated by it. Another thing I remember was this snack bar close to the hospital. It really had the best Croque Monsieur’s I ever ate. We always went to eat at that place after our consultation with the surgeon and I don’t think I ever ordered something else than a Croque. My last vague memory was this tower I could overlook from my hospital bed. It had all these colorful designs on it. I do remember there was a tower, but I cannot remember how it really looked like. One thing I do remember vividly. I was around three and a half years old and mom, granddad and I went to the hospital for a check-up. Granddad was outside parking the car and mom and I already went in. Because I still had trouble walking, mom had a buggy for me. She told me to get in the elevator already so she could close the buddy so it would fit in the elevator with us. But when she was closing it, an old couple entered the elevator and instead of holding the door open, they closed it and we went up. Mom was still outside the elevator and I was in it, going up to an unknown destination. My granddad had entered the building and saw it happening. He ran up the stairs and he arrived almost at the same time as I did with the elevator at the ninth floor. I was crying, mom was crying and ever since, I never went into an elevator before the buggy was closed.

When growing up, things you loved as a kid loose their charms. When I saw the glass wall again last Friday, I smiled because it made me think about how much I adored it as a kid, but I didn’t feel the same admiration anymore. Sunday I decided it was time for a Croque Monsieur, but I was so disappointed when I noticed that the snack bar was no longer there and now served as what I think looked like an illegal drug pawn. That tower looked kind of grey and not so colorful, or maybe they just cleaned up the graffiti. This Paris wasn’t the same anymore as when I last left it. I wasn’t the same anymore neither. Paris watched me grow from a little kid to a young teenager, and now it witnessed me as a young woman. It feels like the circle as complete.

We both changed and I think I was somewhat disappointed at first because I had surrealistic expectations. But now I am happy I returned to the wonderful town with its Eifel Tower, Louvre and Champs Elysées. It made me realize that everything changes; feelings, towns and people. Too much change at once is never pleasant, but we all need change. I think I put a step in the right direction this weekend. Accepting that change is happening and that you cannot fight change, no matter how hard you try is a big accomplishment…

Inspirational

This is some video I found. It is really inspirational. Listen to it, I'm sure it doesn't need any more explaining.



PS: happy birthday Lolu