I. Write. Period.

One of my favorite places.

 

If I have something bothering me, I usually write it out. If I have SOMETHING to say to someone, I write it out first.  When I really need to talk to God, I write Him a letter. I work out all of the jumbled thoughts in my head by writing them down. That is when they start to make sense. When my pen hits paper, I enter my happy place.

People (read: various opinionated family members and close friends) always comment on how much I don’t communicate. I started telling myself that I need to start talking more and writing less. I said that I would practice, and eventually I wouldn’t need so many notebooks. I started trying, and it has not worked at all. I’ve been frustrated and confused. Oh, and I haven’t been talking. I’ve been spending too much time trying to work my thought out in my head for fear of saying the wrong thing. Nothing has come out right, at least I don’t feel that it has. I’ve been second guessing decisions and harboring doubt. I never feel this way when I write.

Today I picked up the journal that I bought with the intention of jotting down lists and started penning everything that came to mind. I felt better with every word. Then I picked up the journal that I bought for the sole purpose of writing to God and let the words fly. What started as one of the most ratchet letters of frustration that I ever did wrote, ended a something so much more than anything that I’ve been attempting to say with my mouth. And now I’m back here where I started. Writing. Writing about how I tried to ruin one of the “perfect” things about myself.

I write. If I don’t write, I”m lost. I don’t need to make a living from it; don’t need anyone’s approval. I need a pen and paper to communicate with myself, my emotions, my God and my dreams, my goals and the people who I love. I do not want to change that. Ever.

Music City? Hey, I Gots A Question

I live in Nashville, internationally known as Music City. I have a friend who was able to attend the SouthxSouthwest festival in Austin, TX this past week. I was on the receiving end of texts about how dope this artist’s set was and how swagged that artist was, and yes I was a major hater full of salt.

See, I had previously spent time calculating the cost of making the trip the Texas and concluded that I had to be out of my mind to attempt the trip at this time in my life. My brokeness looked at me and laughed. After spending the week experiencing bouts of extreme jealousy, I started to think.

Why in the good name of all things dealing with a rhythm and instruments does Nashville not have a music festival like SXSW?

I don’t want to hear a thing about the CMA Fest and country music fanfare either. That is restricted to one genre. Although the city may be primarily highlighted for country music, that is not what earned the nickname and is not all that we have to offer.

Now would be the perfect time for a festival in Music City. Our hip-hop scene is growing at a crazy pace, with artists who are travelling to festivals like SXSW and even Sundance to win over new ears and enlarge their fan base. And I’m not even going the mention the amount artists with national fame that the city has produced who most people don’t even know are from Nashville. There are so many artists that have Nashville as a tour stop just because we are Music City.

And think about the amount of revenue that a music festival would bring to the city. It is not like there are a shortage of venues for shows. Off the top of my head, I made a list of 10 and that does not include the large venues such as The Ryman Auditorium, Schermerhorn etc. I don’t think that getting people to attend would be a problem. Just look at the amount that travel in droves every year to The Middle Of Nowhere, TN to camp out at Bonnaroo year after year.

So Nashville, I need answers. Can somebody remedy this for me? I’d be forever grateful.

Hair ADD: It’s Real and I’m Suffering

I want this cut!!

 

 

 

 

 

Hi, my name is Bethany and I have a problem. *lowers eyes* *finds comfort in the monotone “Hi Bethany” from the “group”* I have natural hair ADD.

 

Every other day I want to change my hair. I don’t even have that much hair on my head!! It all started when I cut my perm off. You know, the Big Chop. Mine wasn’t that big.  I wanted to grow my natural hair out and experiment with every style out there. Then I realized that my hair does not grow at the speed of light, and I began to miss the carefree days of waking up and brushing. No prep. No untwisting. No styling.

No, I want This hair! Now!! Grow hair! GROW!!!

 

Now that my hair is once again the masterpiece of my barber, I have an urge to grow it all over again. Why? Because of the pictures I see every day. Twitter, Pinterest and blogs like curlynikki.com show these women with glorious coils and curls and their crown. They look amazing! I want that. But I don’t have any hair!!! Why? Because I decided that it would be a great idea to cut it all of again.

 

To add one more insult to all of my nappy-headed misery, I have decided on a new spring/summer style. I am going to get braids. Yes. Braids. Like these:

 

You can't tell me that those braids aren't amazeballs.

Why? Because they are dopeness in extension form. If I didn’t have a job with a dress code and strict rules on appearance I would get these:

I would do this in a heartbeat. Eff work *kicks rocks*

 

The braids will likely be temporary. I’ll keep them until I feel that my ‘fro is at a length worth showing  off to the world. My real challenge will be patience. I have to grow my hair long enough for braids. I already hate this process. I am about to look something like a dusty farm child. This is the phase where I have th hardest time fighting the urge to walk into the closest establishment with clippers.

I bow to stick to it. No cutting my hair. It’s ok if I look a little shabby for a while. I’ll have to turn this into shabby chic. Stay tuned.

I Will Be Careful With My Steps

I have had a habit in the past of making decisions on a whim and immediately carrying them out without a second thought. This seemed to work for me quite well, mainly because I wasn’t concerned with consequences. Whatever happened in the future was not happening in the present, thus not at the forefront of my thoughts. I was in the moment, the decision and seeing that it was carried out in grande fashion.

Those days are no more. I have much more time to think on my hands. I contemplate my future more often than one would think. I ponder over the domino effect of various decisions. I weigh the options of stepping out on a random hunch or waiting for opportunity to fall into my lap. I have not completely abandoned my gut feelings and instincts, though. Those feelings are what landed me in Nashville again in the first place. That is a decision that I am still reminded, sometimes on a daily basis, was the right one to make. When it comes to my future, I am careful with my steps.  am not going to up and decide that I am supposed to follow Option A or start pursuing Idea B. Everything about a decision will be well analyzed and prayed over. I will not place a time limit on making decisions. However long it takes for me know received answers and approval/disapproval from the man upstairs will be how long it takes me to take my next step. This is, after all, my life and I have to make sure that I’m doing everything that is right for ME.

Tattoos

I think body art is one of the most interesting forms of self-expression. I have tattoos. I went under the gun for the first time on my 18th birthday for no other reason than to defy my father’s forbidding. I still remember going to his job and lifting the back of my shirt to reveal the Chines characters covered by Saran wrap. He was not happy at all. I’ve been on the receiving end of the tattoo gun five more times since July, 16 six years ago. I’m not finished. Although every piece has a very different meaning to me, what I love the most about my body are is the placement. None of my tattoos are visible unless I want them showing.

There seems to be a set of universal tattoo stereotypes. I don’t know where or when they originated, but most people follow the same code of what certain body placement means. More specifically, everyone believes that there are a few areas on a woman’s body that define they as a “bird” (hoodrat, hooch, project b*&ch) when covered with a tattoo.

Pelvic Area:

 

Breast:

 

Thigh

 

Neck

 I don’t have tattoos in any of those places, not because I’m afraid to  be labeled a bird, because those aren’t areas that I want inked. I don’t make it a point to judge people on where and what they’ve decided to get tattoos. I do, however, have one huge pet peeve. I can’t stand when people flap their lips about others with tattoos that they deem to be in unprofessional or “bird” areas when they are the owner of body are in an equally unprofessional area. I hear colorful commentary from my peers, mostly women, who are at full-time professional jobs all the time.

 ”I would never get a tattoo on my neck, shoulder or upper back. That’s so unprofessional. I won’t able to wear certain kinds of gowns to dinners and galas.” 

“A tattoo on my wrist? I can’t hide that every day at work!” 

These same women leave out of your neighborhood tattoo parlor with some huge piece of art going down the inside of their arm, along the top of their shoulder, or on their ankle when they wear skirts every day to work. All these are places that aren’t very easy to hide every single day in every single season. Men have arm sleeves that stop right above their wrists, and I’m assuming that they aren’t going to spend the rest of their lives wearing long-sleeved shirts to work every day.

I say everyone get body are wherever they would like on their body. I could decide one day that I want to sleeve my entire arm, an idea that may become a reality when I reach the point where I never have to work a job in Corporate America ever again. So what. It will not change the way that I conduct myself in a professional setting. And what in the world is a “professional” tattoo anyway?

 

 

 

 

The Year Of The 30 Day Challenge

I am almost done with my first 30 Day Challenge of the year. I’ve never done a challenge before, and didn’t enter 2012 with intentions to start. That was until I stumbled on a Letter Writing Challenge. There’s a different person for every day. It could be as simple as writing to the last person you’ve kissed, or a little more difficult. The other day I had to write to the person who I wish I could be. Overall, I’ve enjoyed myself and my thoughts.

Now that the challenge is almost over, I want to continue. I think that every 30 days should be accompanied by a new challenge. I’m convinced that this will help me improve different areas of my life, depending on the challenge. My only issue is conjuring up ideas. I don’t any good ideas!

There is always the option of taking the lazy way out and spend the next month only drinking water. I drink water more than any other beverage. That would be a piece of cake. Or I could do something that I already planned on like reading every day. I can’t come up with anything creative.

I need help. February is right around the corner. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Shouldn’t there be a tumblr for this? There must be! *goes to google*

Have You Missed Me?

I haven’t been producing any content for my corner of wordpress for the past few weeks. I wish I could say that it’s because I’ve been so busy doing all types of great things. Truthfully, I’ve been doing the same things as usual. It seems that I haven’t been able to churn out any material that I’d deem quality. I’ve scribbled over more words in the past month than I’ve written in the past six. I don’t feel like I’m exploring my ideas enough. I’m not even trying to become some profound blogger. I just don’t publish crap. I’ve been writing crap. I’m going to try to write myself through this drought, and will be back over in this neck of the woods when I start producing B.Renee gold. In the meantime, I’ve started a tumblr and discontinued A Song For Saturday. All (most) things music related can be found HERE.

I’ll be back soon with my opinion on some random topic. I promise

3 Months’ Salary On One Ring?

I would never wear that

There is a rule that most people are aware of which states, an engagement ring is supposed to be of equal value to 3 months’ salary. Why? Where did this rule come from? I know that it has been around forever, but I want to know who made it up and why. Since I’m pretty sure that I’m not going to receive those answers, I’ll just share exactly why I think that it is one of the dumbest rules that ever did exist.

First things first. I’m not into big clusterfucks of diamonds, and would never wear them on my fingers or anywhere else for that matter. I know for a fact would like to think men save all of this money so that they can buy some huge showpiece because that’s what women like. No. Not I. Come to me on bended knee with a small boulder in a ring box and your question will not be answered with a yes. I will promptly drag you back to the jeweler where we would trade that mess in for something much smaller and more practical. I’ll say yes as we deposit all of that extra money back into your account.

This? Nope

I’m going to out on a limb here and say that if I agree to marry someone, I love him with all of my heart. I’m also going to take the risk of assuming that, since he’s asking me to be his wife, he loves me just as much. Something about this 3 months’ salary rule screams “You’re saving the money to buy a big ring. The bigger the ring, the more you love her. Duh!” No. I know that I’m going to fall in love with a smart man. A smart man who will know that I’d be much happier if that 3 months’ salary was spent on our reception and honeymoon. In the grand scheme of things, the ring doesn’t mean a thing. (excuse me while i jig to that horrible Kim Z song in my head. It is kind of catchy) The love and the marriage mean everything, and the wedding bands are the symbols of that love. Not the engagement ring.

I don't need all of this mess to symbolize love.

One last point of irritation and I’m done. Man dates woman. Man falls in love with woman. Man decides he wants to marry woman. Man begins the task of saving 3 months salary so that he can properly proposed to woman. Man has bills to pay. It takes man forever to save the proper amount for ring. Many finally proposes with “acceptable ring’. Couple starts marriage counseling, during which woman can’t wear ring or show it off to people. Isn’t that one of the selling point of spending so much money on the ring? This point may only make sense to me because I know that my engagement will be traditional. And that is all that matters.

So future husband, to you I say keep your 3 months’ salary. I’m fine with a nice dainty engagement ring and a wedding band to compliment.

A Song For Saturday

I’ve mulling over what song to choose for this week since last week. Right now as I’m typing, I have no idea what song will be at the end of this paragraph. This week has been up, down and all around. I’ve been frustrated to the point of wanting to say fuck it all. I’ve been on cloud nine for my friends and their accomplishments. I’ve been bubbling with ideas and nervous about taking steps to make them reality. A complete rollercoaster. What song out there in the world describes a rollercoaster? I don’t know. I’m not about the rollercoaster life though. I’m learning how to chill out and take things as they come, but never stop planning and preparing for the future. 

I’ve finally decided on a feel good song, which is appropriate since I can say that as of this moment, that’s exactly how I feel. And I’m going to try to keep this feeling. I’m alive and in good health. My little family unit has a roof over our heads and food to eat. And we’ll be welcoming another member any day now. I’m happy.

Happy Face. Enjoy, it’s a throwback.  Sidenote: I had floor seats at this concert, and had a ball.

 

I Want A Job…

I want to put these on and zone out.

 

Is it possible to get paid to listen to music? That’s it. Sit at home and listen to music. Go to shows and listen to music. I’m not a writer, and I’m as politically incorrect and rude as they come, so I wouldn’t want to be responsible for writing reviews. I don’t want to be an A&R or any sort of head hunter because pitching artists to others is not my thing. If I like something /someone, I like them. I can’t be bothered with convincing others to like them too. I want to listen. Enjoy. Dissect for myself. Listen again with a better understanding.

Can I get paid to sit in my living room in sweats – size extra large - with my macbook hooked up to surround sound speakers; iTunes on an overflowing ‘Recently Added’ playlist, and vibe all day? Can I pick out what I love and put them on repeat? All day. I mean, I can tweet lyrics so it won’t seem like I’m getting paid for nothing. Can I receive a salary to dress up and go to all the new venues that I’ve discovered to witness all of the talent coming from my city? Can my employment package include me being front row center for my favorite artists when they stop through on tour?

 

Can I get paid to go somewhere like this?

Who would hire me for such a position? Seriously. I need answers. Suggestions. Someone point me in the right direction. I’ll put on my best suit and give and amazing interview. I’ll show how diverse of a musical palette I possess. I’d create charts and diagrams relating artists and songs that only I would think to connect; put together my ideal concert line-ups and set lists. I’d so so so get that job.

To sit and listen to music all day, how glorious!!