Friday, January 29, 2010

Who gonna check me, boo?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vHGiOeMbDRI

Credit goes to Professor Eve Dunbar for reminding me of this phrase's existence.

Who gonna check me, boo?

At first glance, it seems like just another saying to cop out of a fight like "Whateva, whateva!" or "Whatcha gonna do about it?" But I think there's more to it than that. Ultimately, it's something of a power-struggle along the lines of "Try me."

And I've been thinking of the fact that fairly few people actually ever 'check' or 'try' me. I find it almost funny and almost sad. It's humorous because I'm actually a sensitive person and also a pacifist. I'm not about to hit somebody, please. But I could use some criticism every now and then. Not only in an academic setting, but all of the time, criticism is essential to our growth. If no one has the tenacity to say, "Hold up, boo, I think you're getting ahead of yourself." or "Come again? I think you need a breather." how are we to acknowledge our own faults?

Passion is wonderful. I don't know how I'd live if everything were just okay. But sometimes I can be overemotional. Sometimes I can be a pain in the ass. But I don't want to be that obnoxious son of a bitch that errybody wants to kick in the face (but to whom no one says shit).

Gah. Here's hoping that my introspection in this situation is, in fact, one of my overthinkin's. Because that's my life: once my brain starts, it does not stop for nobody.

Until it does, I'm stuck. And I'm not all about Jewel and worrying about who will save my soul. That's mostly inconsequential. Nah. I'm worrying about who gonna check me! Boo.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Part of yo' motha fuckin' world, bitch!

Apparently, I still know all of the lyrics to "Part of Your/That World." (Did you realize it had two titles? Part of your world and part of that world. Seriously. I looked it up. Because I have a wiki-binging problem. Or a binging problem in general. But let's just stick with wiki.) I have to admit that this was maybe the highlight of my day. And I don't find that pathetic at all! I love it when I have eureka moments like that. Especially when they have to do with cheesy songs. It brings me back, whole nostalgia thing.

Which brings me to my next point. (Did I have a point earlier? Didn't think so. But I don't give a fuck.) I recently turned twenty. I am no longer a teenager. And I don't know how to react to it. I typically don't pay my birthdays much regard. They're so strange anyway. But this year is a little different. I've officially lived two decades and I feel as if I've lived about four-and-a-half. I'm practically an adult. Oh, I know...I'm a young adult, but that's only appropriate in a library. Fuck if I've even ever read young adult fiction.

So the moral of the story is that I'm fucking old!!! And it's actually okay. I think I'm going to be just fine. And either way, I don't give a fuck. Imma have me a drank, belt some shitty or super amazing music, and read me some Audre Lorde. Truth.