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esskay
Digital storyteller, Photographic narrator, Hogwarts alum. In real life, I write things. I speak fluent sarcasm. I'm unintentionally funny. My favorite thing is food. Guac is life. I'm a fountain of the most random information. I'm pretty, only because it's weird to call oneself beautiful. I'm weird in all the good ways. I live in the greatest city on Earth. I was Sasha before Beyonce was schizophrenic. My life is stranger than fiction. But please, don't take my word for it. My pen is mightier than my sword. Instagram
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Tuesday, July 18, 2017 || 5:01 PM
I used to think I was the master of grudge holding. Like, if it's fuck you now, it's fuck you forever. I don't know if it's that I've grown as a person or that I really just don't have the energy to give that much to other people anymore. Maybe it's a little bit of both. But there's this Maya Angelou quote that always comes to me when I think about forgiveness.I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.They say everyone is in your life for a reason and a season. There have been people in my life who at the time, I thought would be here forever. And when they showed me who they really were, then I thought it would be fuck them forever. And now that I think about it, I realize I don't think about those people at all. I don't wish them well, I don't wish them bad, I just don't care. Then there are other people who I thought would be in my life for the long haul and it's funny how when you form these bonds, it always feels like it's for forever. It never enters your mind that things won't turn out the way you thought until they don't. But there are people who I've been close to and we've stopped being close for one reason for another. Those people, I think about quite often. Because even if I feel like the way we fell apart isn't on me, I still know that they're good people. I wish them well and even though we may not talk anymore, I'm still quietly rooting for them. Here's the thing. Maya Angelou wasn't wrong. But I'm starting to think that maybe I'm the exception and not the rule. I can forgive, I can move on, I can wish you well but I will never, ever forget exactly what you said or exactly what you did to cause us to be on the outs. And in my mind, what you did becomes who you are. It doesn't erase the friend you were before but it's a lot like mourning them because until you change what happened (i.e. apologize, explain, something!) you'll always be this new asshole in my mind. The asshole who stopped speaking to me for no reason, or the asshole who wanted to point fingers at me to mask your own shortcomings. Or the asshole who thought some guy or girl was more important than our lifelong friendship. And even though I can forgive these things, until you personally take the steps to change it, I can't see it any other way. Nobody is perfect. And because we're imperfect people, we have imperfect relationships. I'd like to think I've grown into a person who can recognize and admit when they're wrong. And I'd like to think that the people in my life are the same. But I also know that the longer a silence goes on, the less likely it is to end. So for now, I'll try to fill the silence with something beautiful. And know I'll still be here, quietly rooting for you, asshole that you may be. Because with the exception of the people who have made it all too easy to forget them, we're friends. We may not speak, we may not have spoken for some time, but some people just can't be shaken from your life so easily. Labels: babble and rant, friends and fam, in real life, personals Friday, January 20, 2017 || 4:53 PM
There are certain things I don't like talking about on the internet. For starters, I tend to keep my opinions on politics and religion to myself because people get brave behind a keyboard and talk reckless and also because I can't deal with the internet trolls. I'm always up for a healthy exchange of ideas and I know the select few people I can have that with. But the internet has pissed me off, as I knew it would, mere hours after the swearing in of Tangerine Voldemort and I find I can't hold my tongue any longer.I keep seeing this all over social media: You notice how Bernie lost and he's still out here fighting for us and Hillary lost and she disappeared into the night?This is annoying for a few reasons. First, Bernie Sanders is still a senator. His obligation is to the people. It's literally his job to still be fighting for you. As an ordinary citizen, Hillary Clinton has no such obligation. Do I necessarily agree with her silence at this time? No. But I do understand it. Second, most of the people posting this are the same Bernie or Bust fucktards that decided not to vote in the general election because "Hillary's just as bad as Trump." Likely the same ones that cost her the election and definitely the same ones who were the first to voice their outrage at the election results. Hillary was never a perfect candidate and she is many things. But here's what she isn't: an openly racist, misogynistic, homophobic, rapey as fuck demagogue. I'd take her over Persimmon Hitler any day. And third, this woman worked her entire career to be the most qualified (if not overly qualified) candidate for the job and got this far just to lose to a reality tv star. Just to have her name continually dragged through the mud and still concede the election with grace and dignity. Let me ask you, perfect candidate or not, would you be in a hurry to stand up and fight for the same people who turned their backs on you? Especially when it's not even your job anymore? Y'all have a lot of GOTdamned nerve. Because NOW, now that Apricot Satan has wormed is way into the White House, now that, mere hours after he was sworn in, all traces of climate change, LGBTQ rights, financial disclosures, petitions and who knows what else has disappeared from the White House website, NOW y'all want her to save you? Get the whole entire fuck outta here! I hope Hillary Clinton never says another word in defense of this shitshow called America ever again. I hope she retires and goes back to her big ass mansion upstate New York and plays with her grandchildren and her dogs and does happy rich white people shit and enjoys her life. I think, if nothing else, she's earned that much. Labels: babble and rant, in real life, pop of culture Thursday, January 19, 2017 || 4:41 PM
It's been a while since I've done this but 2016 was shit. Let's just put that out there. So now that it's a new year, I thought I'd get back to this writing thing. If I'm remembering correctly, there was an abundance of black girl magic in the beginning of 2016. And though we're not too far into the new year yet, I can't help but notice all of the black women out here flourishing. Needless to say, it's hella inspiring.Now I'll be the first to admit that I suck at keeping up with people. I'm not what you'd call a social butterfly. But to all of my friends from all walks of life, I just want to tell you that when life gets crazy, don't be discouraged. We may not talk everyday but just know that I see you and I'm over here, quietly rooting for you. I just want us all to win. So on that note, here are three beautiful young black women who are dope as hell. I have known these woman at one time or another in my life and every time I see them, they inspire me. I hope their black girl magic will have the same effect on you. Ti Nika Shenika and I grew up together in church and her style has evolved into something beautiful and all her own. I've admired the way she puts pieces together and just knew it was something she could share with others. And though I wasn't sure if she'd ever do it, you could say I waited for it like a Beyonce´ stan waits for an album to drop. There's no promo, no single. But sometimes, you just have to wait with blind faith. And like Bey, she delivered. Find her awesome lookbooks here. Alex Labels: friends and fam, in real life, listy, pop of culture Sunday, June 19, 2016 || 9:03 AM
There's an unbreakable bond between a girl and her father. As close as we are to our mothers, there are just some things that moms don't get. My mother is a superhero. But even superheroes need to hang up the cape and be ordinary people sometimes, and that's where dads come in.
Funnily enough, it was when I was listing all the ways that mother knows best that I discovered just how much my father has taught me. It might not seem like much but it's so, so important.
My father taught me basic first aid. How to clean and bandage a cut. There were times when I would come limping home, crying over a particularly gruesome injury. A fall off my bike, a bloodied up knee or elbow. And when that would happen, my dad would chuckle and say "well, it's gonna feel worse before it feels better" and I would grit my teeth and cry as the burning sensation of rubbing alcohol washed over my wound. But then relief would come. And my dad was always right about that. Things would suck. But they would always get better.
My dad taught me how to use a camera. It's easy to look at and see things on the surface but he taught me that I should have a unique view of the world. Try to see beyond what's in front of you. Look past the obvious. Look at it from another angle. My pictures aren't quite as good as his but I'm still learning.
My dad taught me how to decorate a Christmas tree. That may not seem like a big deal, especially not in the middle of June. But it's meticulous work and he taught me that if you're going to do something, do it right. Take your time. Show pride in your work. Lights first. Beads/tinsel/ribbon second. Ornaments last. Make it look good.
My dad taught me the difference between a phillips and a flat head screwdriver. He taught me how to use a wrench, what I might need pliers for. If something is broken, fix it. Don't wait for someone bigger or stronger. There may not always be someone around and you're just as capable. Have faith in yourself. He taught me that if I'm hanging something, I should always use a level. Things might look straight up close but it's not until you take a step back that you'll realize what a mess you've made. Do the work the first time around so you don't have to do it twice.
But one of the first and most memorable things my dad taught me was how to ride a bike. He taught me to keep my head up, let go of my fear and just keep moving. There's always a chance you might fall. But getting back up shows character. It shows that you're not willing to let fear control your life. So no matter how many times you fall, keep getting back up.
My father taught me five things. I'm sure there are others that I'm not remembering at the moment but he taught me five things that have stayed with me throughout my life. They don't seem like much but they are the reason I am who I am.
Another father figure, someone who was a father to me before he ever really became a father and before life took him away from me too soon, was my brother Sean. His life lessons were a little more literal though. He taught me to never beg for friendship. Anyone worth having in your life, you won't have to beg them to be there. He taught me to stay away from people who make me feel like I'm hard to love because the right person will get it. He taught me how to tell the difference between something worth fighting for and an unnecessary headache. He taught me how to make pancakes and brownies. He taught me how to be a decent human being, how to be there for others even when I can't figure my own shit out.
It's so unfair that he was this role model for so many people and his son will never get to experience the kind of example he was to all of us. As much as I remember him, I can't replace him in his son's life, nor do I think anyone should. But a boy needs a father and no matter how much moms may do and how hard they work for us, they will never be able to fill the place of a father. So I'm glad my father is around to teach him the same five things he taught my brothers and I. Those little life lessons shaped us. And as small as they may seem, I don't know where or who I would be without them.
 Labels: friends and fam, in real life, personals Monday, April 18, 2016 || 10:13 PM
I've been wanting to say something and I haven't known quite how to say it. I'm still not sure, but on the eve of New York's primary election, I figured what better time to give it a try.Let me just put this out there: I do not talk about politics. Much the same way I don't talk about religion but even more so. I feel like my views are mine and it's not my place to try to shove them down other peoples throats. That said, why don't people understand that it's not their place to push their views, political or otherwise, off on others? I feel like this is common fucking sense, people. And it's true, common sense is not so common as of late but this is pretty basic stuff. I enjoy a nice, intelligent conversation as much as the next person. We don't always have to see eye to eye but I'm down for a healthy exchange of ideas. We can have different opinions and still respect each other. So if you want to ask me about my views and why I vote the way I do, that's fine. But why do people feel like it's ok to tell you who you better be voting for? If I'm voting for one candidate and you're voting for another, it's not because you're smart and I'm dumb (unless it's Trump, there's no excuse for that.) It could be for any number of reasons. Maybe we grew up in different places and under different circumstances, experienced different things. The things that matter to me may not matter as much to you and vice versa. One candidate's agenda is more in line with my interests. We have different priorities. Any one of those things can change the way a person votes and it's not your place to tell someone what issues should or should not matter to them. It's your place to do your civic duty and make sure your voice is heard. Every person gets one vote. I'm sorry but you can't have mine. So whatever you do, make sure you make yours count. Labels: babble and rant, in real life, pop of culture Friday, March 4, 2016 || 8:24 PM
On the heels of the most lit Black History Month in my memory and only days into Women's History Month, I had an interesting thought. I say interesting because I can't quite put my finger on the word that would properly describe it. But here's the thought: At one point in every little black girl's life, she wishes she were white. Now maybe this doesn't hold true for every young black girl. Maybe there are black girls out there who have been woke since birth and I envy them because the vast majority of black girls, myself included, aren't lucky enough to be born knowing just how beautiful our blackness is. Now obviously, this is a direct result of the lack of representation in the media. Little black girls aren't used to seeing beautiful black women on tv. The black girl doesn't get the guy. She isn't the head cheerleader or the most popular girl in school. Nine times out of ten, she doesn't even get to be the geek in the endearing coming of age story who gets a makeover and turns out to be hot. She's just that girl in the corner that the camera rolls past. An extra. An "other." Or worse, she's the angry black girl. Just another stereotype. But I'm not here to talk about what we already know. I'm just making an observation. I remember when it happened to me. I remember watching Lizzie McGuire with her cool clothes and her great friends and her straight blonde hair and wondering why that couldn't be me. And that year, I dyed my hair blonde(ish), cut a bang and wore a scarf as a belt. I'm not proud of it. Trust me, it's pretty embarrassing to admit. But necessary to make my point. Because after all that, I still wasn't happy. And not only that, I felt like people didn't get me. Just thinking about it makes me glad I'm not a kid anymore. The angst and being SO misunderstood? The drama that wasn't really drama? Junior High School? Lord knows I don't miss any of it. But it's easy to forget the struggles that young girls go through. I was 13 when it happened to me. And by the time I got to high school, I was over it. But to hear someone as young as my five year old niece say "I wish I was white" is heartbreaking. It's so easy for young girls to be swayed into thinking that their blackness is something they need to cast aside to be trendy or cool. Because dark skin isn't cool and curly hair isn't cool. It isn't the norm. Here's the thing though. Being black, especially being a black girl, is everything. I really believe black girl magic is a thing. We continue to accomplish so much because of, not in spite of the obstacles in our way and I think that makes all the difference.Labels: babble and rant, personals, pop of culture Monday, February 1, 2016 || 7:39 AM
It's been a while since I've done this. For whatever reason, the beginning of the year always sucks for me. So come February, I usually try to hit the reset button and start over. It hasn't all been sucky, though. Last week, there was this crazy ass blizzard that took over NYC. You know, in case you missed it. But before that, my friend Joel and I went on what I am sure is the first of many random shenanigans in 2016.During the month of January, There was an art exhibit in the Knockdown Center called Suspended Forest. Aptly named, as it is a forest that hangs from the ceiling and consisting of discarded Christmas trees. I thought it was a pretty dope concept so I called the only person I know who is always down for whatever random ideas I come up with and dragged him out there to see what it was all about. And let me just say, my pictures do not do it justice.  
Joel, lurking
  I feel like I didn't really capture the full beauty of it but it was more than just a room full of old Christmas trees. It's hard to explain. I think, for me, it highlighted the beauty in death. Death is something that has touched my life and touched it often in recent years. Just last week, I lost someone who was like an aunt to me and I'm not gonna lie; losing someone in a way so final is the hardest thing I've ever done. But walking through that room was an entirely different perspective on death. A hanging forest is cool, sure. But imagine walking on a concrete floor covered in pine needles with their fragrance surrounding you. The closer the tree gets to dying, the more it dries out, the more beautiful it becomes. And even though you're sad to see it go, you enjoyed it while it lasted. Maybe it's just me, but it definitely gave me something to think about. Last year was a weird one for me. I'm not entirely sure that's a bad thing but it was different, for sure. There were things I experienced, old friends that became new again and vice versa. It was a very reflective year for me and I'm just hoping that I can take what I've learned and put it into making 2016 awesome. I hope that everyone had an awesome holiday (even though I'm a whole month late) but more importantly, I hope you're all having an amazing new year. Labels: anomaly, fun times, in real life, personals, pop of culture |