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BLACK_COTILLIONToday is a random Friday post. There isn’t going to be a lot of rhyme or reason; all the pieces will not fit together, so before you wonder what the heck a ball, work, and whatever randomness I think of along the way all fit together, I will save you some time and tell you they don’t.

I am not going to the Ball this year. My sorority’s undergraduate chapter here has a ball every year, and I’ve been to the past two they’ve had since I’ve been in the area. Tonight, however, I am staying my black behind at home…or going out, just not to that ball.

I love my sorority. When I pledged, I didn’t have any regrets. I didn’t want to be something else. I read up on other orgs., but I always knew where I belonged. The women who had so influenced my life, that I had modeled myself after, when I was in an auxillary org. made the sorority such a part of their identity at times I couldn’t separate their  inherent qualities from qualities that developed from being part of the organization. I couldn’t wait to be a member, to volunteer and get up and introduce keynote speakers, to hold fundraisers, and to grow into this cultured, refined woman of distinction and sophistication. I can’t stroll, can’t really step, don’t get along too well with girls as a general rule, but I was joining an organization of women united by common goals and initiatives set in place long before me.

Only people can get in the way of ideals. When I came here, I felt that I didn’t receive the kind of welcome any member of any organization should receive from other members, but I tried to reason it all away. Then I got angry. I pledged just like anybody else, I earned my letters, and I wanted to continue to be a part of an organization I took great pride in. In a temper I let my frustrations with them be known via facebook. They seemed a bit taken aback, acknowledged a misunderstanding, and some tried to move on. But I cannot go to another ball, no, another undergraduate event. I have put out the hand of fellowship and had it spit in a little too much by them.

The last event I went to really left no doubt in my mind it was time to stop the madness and move out of the scene entirely, at least at an undergraduate level here.  Maybe even a grad level, as most of the people who tend to cause the problem have since graduated and joined grad chapter. I was greeted by most, some took their time about it and a few didn’t speak as per usual. Then we sat. Sat. Sat some more. Only one soror actually engaged me in a conversation, and she’s moving to another state soon. It doesn’t take many public shunnings and dismissals for me to make my exit. I have enough self-esteem issues and issues with women. I won’t willingly walk into this high school ish again. I still love my org., but for now, I have to love it from afar. There is just no connecting with some people.

I am starting to take better care of my body. I went on a walk/jog yesterday, and yoga is on the agenda for today. I have cut caffeine out of my diet (again…and if you can call my food intake a diet), and already I feel the difference–more natural energy to get through the day, the ability to fall asleep at night. I’m remembering how exercising, particularly walking, jogging, and yoga, clear my mind and stop all of those racing thoughts in my head. It feels like a return to peace and serenity. Namasté!

I think people think it’s strange that I like eating lunch by myself. I like to read, write in my journal, Think, at a little table by the window. I like being quiet. There was a time when I used to be able to be quiet when people were around, and maybe I will get back there. I love being quiet at work. People think I am quiet at work, they don’t think I talk much at all. I love coming home and being able to be quiet, to not feel the need to comment on everything, or fill awkward lapses in conversation with random things.

My job is boring, but I like it. Mr. Perfect’s eyes glaze over most of the time when I talk about my workday, and most of the time he only asks to get it out of the way and jump into the lastest chapter in the saga of his own more interesting working life, but I like to talk about my job. Right now, I am backfiling accounting documents for all of the companies my company owns and operates. Numbers aren’t my thing, but everything has its own story to tell. Perhaps I will tell you more of mine sometime. When you’re ready.

I am rediscovering my music collection through loading songs to my iPod. I have a lot more CDs to go, but I’m loving every minute of it. I rediscover songs everyday that I forgot I had or forgot how much I liked them.

Denise Austin is calling my fat buns to Yoga Buns.

Sun Salutations and Ribalds,



P.S. Picture came from this blog, about Toronto’s Black Community. Check it out if you want to know about Black events in Toronto…it appears to be still in use.