Monthly Archives: November 2012

Fell asleep, woke up on top of the world.

Growing up, I was always the girl who went right if you told me to go left. Modestly I enjoyed watching the world squirm with aggravation over my manipulated confusion of a structured environment with a form of North Korean dictatorship.  Naturally, this desire to revoke any means of conformity landed me on Santa’s naughty list more frequently then my parents would like to admit.

I detest the idea of being labeled a rebellious “black sheep”. Subjectively, I was the vibrant pink unicorn with a golden razor-sharp glitter horn on a path of destruction, and I loved every minute of it. While I might have been popular amongst my peers, I was relatively loathed by any means of authority, thus adding to the excitement. Dually noted, my term of destruction should not be confused with tangible destruction; I wasn’t killing hamsters and blogging about it, but I thoroughly enjoyed creating a ruse of external chaos before I dotted my i’s and crossed my t’s.  I was simply high off life, and saw rule abiding behaviors as a piercing cry of mediocrity.

When I was 18 years old and fresh out of high school, I impulsively made the bold choice to move out of the safety net of my parent’s house and get an apartment with my boyfriend. We had known each other for a few years, and had casually dated in the past. Our rekindled romance grew with the fierce intensity of an Arizona wildfire. Naturally, this didn’t thrill my parents, but my confidence overshadowed any negative commentary. Adapting to the dynamics of independence was similar to learning how to swim by jumping in the deep end of the pool.  The first six months of rent payments, grocery store dashes, and Ikea trips nearly drowned me in 10 feet of stress. I had no clue how much financial responsibility I had invited into my young adult life. With failure not being an option, I quickly reformed my teenage persona from lazy sleep-in Sundays into a bargain shopping, breakfast-lunch-dinner cooking, 45 hour a week working, happy homemaker. I learned more about myself in the five years that followed the relationship then I could of ever dreamed possible.

Today, I know more then I did yesterday, yet I wouldn’t change anything about my past, if I was given a second chance. This cognitive decision making process is our ability to uniquely identify ourselves, and ultimately make our mark in the warm pavement of history. Your actions, words, movement, and efforts are permanently inscribed into your personal little black book of life. Some people choose to be mild participators in the society, and follow cookie-cutter regulations for what they think they should do, instead of what they actually want to do.

I cherish every vivid tearful moment, as much as I do the uncontrollable fits of pure happiness, because without the ying, there is no yang. You can never learn to appreciate the highest of the highs, without the lowest of the lows. Personally, I would rather suffer the consequences of a million mistakes due to cause & effect of creating my own destiny, then dwell in the dreary abbess of bland, lethargic, robotic actions. I’ve had an amazing experience thus far, crafting the blueprint to my unique roller coaster life. I’m proud to say I’ve made mistakes; yet equally grateful to hold no regrets. Moments spent drinking champagne under the Eiffel tower in Paris, racing jet skis in crystal blue water in Puerto Rico, or dancing on the tables of  every nightclub in the Meatpacking District are things ill always recollect with a smile; but knowing I singlehandedly created my destiny is superior to the rolodex of excitement I have stored in my memory.

I’ve learned that the spontaneous moments are usually the best, negativity is contagious, love is eternal, and karma is real. Always hold yourself in the highest regards; the world will only value you as high as you value yourself.

“An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy of being called an idea at all.” – Oscar Wilde

I could be a lot of things …

I’m way too tall for a girl I’ve been told

I’m way too skinny for society I’ve been told

I’m way too loud, I sweat too much, my feet are too big, my face is too young….

“You can’t buy a lottery ticket, you aren’t a day over sixteen!”

“You can’t play basketball? What are you, at least 7 feet?”

You dress too much like a boy, you wear too much pink, you look so mean …

“You live in Brooklyn? I feel sorry for you …”

“You’re a dancer? What do they do?”

These sorts of judgements, these silly one dimensional observations. I love them … they keep me young

“Girls don’t know anything about basketball, so how can your favorite team be the Celtics?”

“Why are you 20 and a freshman?”

Why are you always on the phone?”

Why don’t you have a job?”

“I like your hair … is it fake?”

I mean I thought I was pretty average but all these questions make me wonder. To me I am just a tall basketball loving tomboy with an obsession for pink and a sailors mouth. Sounds complicated but really being a 20 year old that looks like a gigantic 12 year old has its pros and cons.

“Why are you worried about voting? Your vote doesn’t even count …”

“I bet you are voting for Obama right?”

You see the excitement? The never ending thrust of questions.

Like I said earlier, they keep me young. Stereotype or not …

I could be a lot of these things, but you know something…you people with the questions, do you know who you are?

– Mandisa Nickerson 🙂

Hi 🙂

           Not the most interesting picture, I know. Serena Vishala Sooklall. My mother once read a book in which the main characters name was Serena. She thought it was a beautiful name, originating from the word Serenity meaning peace or tranquility. I’d like to think she named me accordingly but once you get to know me, you’d realize it simply isn’t true. No, I’m not obnoxiously loud but I’m not one to hold my breath if I have something to say. I was born on October 15th, 1994 making me a Libra which is represented by the scale of justice or simply “the balance.” This holds to be true in my eyes seeing as I’m generally the tie breaker or the one to make decisions, generally what I feel are just ones.

          Jamaica, Queens has always been and always will be my home. I love New York City, the concrete Jungle, the city that never sleeps. I love telling people where I come from because I always have a sense of pride when I talk about my city, everyone wants to know all about the Big Apple. I love the diversity of the people, the different cultures food and experiences to be found. I love the music and sound of general city life. I love my friends, almost as much as I love my family. Dancing, is my passion. I generally have a positive outlook on things. I like surrounding myself with happy people and good auras. I’m not a whiner and even if I don’t like it, I generally get the job done, whatever the job may be. I believe in few things but the things that I do believe in I keep close to me. I strongly dislike  people who don’t practice what they preach, then again who am I to judge?

I like to think I’m a simple girl, with a simple life who makes simple decisions in a simple world with other simple people. This, simply isn’t true. I’m a complex human being just like everyone else. I have irrational thoughts and I make irrational decisions. I like ears, specifically cold ones. I hate oatmeal. I cry every single time I see Titanic and change the channel every time an ASPCA commercial comes on because it’s too sad. I have a hard time saying no to people. I believe in giving people second chances, even third and fourth ones. I don’t care for religion or politics. I know the world is a corrupt place but I choose to have faith in people in an unjust world. I don’t believe in resorting to violence I’m more of a increase the peace type of woman. Hippie style, minus the clothing and drugs. I tell people things for their own good despite the fact that they may not like to hear it. I tend to hurt peoples feelings, but with good intentions in mind. I love to give, more than I love to take. I love to share. I love to love. All in all, I live and let live. 

BLOG POST NO.2 – MONOLOGUE

My name is Robert. I was born in Harlem, but have lived most of my life in the Bronx. I have also attended private school for much of my life (at a Lutheran school) where class sizes were very small in comparison. So of course in preparing for college, I was not sure how well I would integrate with the larger environment. However, I enjoy going to school in the city.

I am the youngest of three children and have two siblings—one brother and one sister. I was raised in a Baptist household and my parents are very religious, particularly my mother. I love watching sports, specifically basketball; and I’m really hoping the Knicks can finally get their stuff together this season, but at the same time, I won’t hold my breath for them.

I abhor waking up early in the morning (around 5:30) and having to take what I consider to be a long commute to the city just to go to class (which is about 1 ½ hours on a good day). With college, there always seems one paper after another or an important exam to take. I was never much of a studier, but now I find myself having to apply much more attention to studying in order to keep up. Fortunately though, we classes only from Mons-Thurs and thus have three-day weekends to prepare ourselves for following week.

Lastly, I think that the biggest pressure that I face right now probably is finishing college and earning a degree. This is because all my immediate family members have gone to college but unfortunately withered and never finished, or rather never earned a degree. The farthest one of them being my brother, who completed about three years but then fell off. So of course, there’s a lot of pressure and expectation there for me to succeed.

Hi, it’s me, Dickon.  I’ll make it short.  I’m the sixth kid of nine.  I had the best parents, great childhood in western Pennsylvania.  That’s not Philadelphia.  Think deer-huntin’, truck-drivin’, wood-splittin’, in-grown, conservative, back-in-the-holler country.  By the way, that’s the place to grow up.  Lazy summer afternoons, the sound of leaves rustling overhead, water rippling, fishing with a friend.  Long walks through a still, silent, snow-covered evening, just Dad ‘n me.  No worries.

The big world was there when I needed it.  That was 2008, junior high school.  Barack Obama was my hero.  I saw him as the solution to every problem.  That’s right, naïve.  On election day, with two freshman friends, we walked down to the county Obama Campaign Headquarters.  (A county is like a borough, but with less people, more hunters.)  We canvassed the entire town, walking down all three streets, knocking on doors.  We asked people to vote.  We changed the world.

Today I’m a Tolkein fan (see picture).  I am passionate about the Pittsburg Steelers and fighting climate change.  Corporations own President Obama, but he’s better than Mitt.  I guess we were wrong four years ago.  We can’t hire someone to change the world.  It is up to us.