I LOVE the 90s!!

I LOVE the 90s

Oh the good times, from the Biggie to Lil Kim to Puff Daddy to J. Lo to N'sync to En Vogue to Salt N' Pepa to TLC. You just couldn't go wrong with music back that. Songs I loved the most, dance moves and all the wild clothes and colors. It was a era of creativity and uncensored expression. People were free to mix match and sing about almost anything. I'm a 90s girl at heart, though it was mostly spent watching Gargoyles, Power Rangers and Conan the Barbarian (I was a bit of a tomboy), I thoroughly enjoyed that childhood.

This year for my bday I celebrated it in great 90s style with a good old fashioned 90s themed house party!! Hip hop hooray! Featuring beats by Dj such & such aka Dreds aka Ass aka David aka Isaac aka my boyfriend lol! The party was small but celebrated with close family and friends and I danced the whole night away. This year I spent my birthday with people who mattered most and really through all other worries aside. I partied like it was 1999 and tootsie rolled for a good min. I miss my good natured 90s but I relived it for a night on my birthday.

Money well spent, and then celebrated the rest of my bday wknd relaxing and exercising with my bf at this gorgeous bed and breakfast...wish I could steal credit for it but he found it all by himself! He's a keeper! Definitely the best birthday I've had in a while and I'm glad it all came together in the end :) Shake a groove thing and get in touch with your 90s style.

I did NOT ask for this...my hood.

I wore my hoodie today,
hoping to hide my face
concealing my race
this nigga black I did not ask for.
I walked just down the street
just minutes from my own home
my hoodie failed me
my black was revealed.
This hood did not erase
this skin I did not ask for.
These stereotypes I've become.
This connotation my pigment carries.
My hood was not low enough
Red and rounded my hood outed my nigga-ness
Surrounded by white pointed hoods
my embarassment shown all around
nervous with bated breath
I walked cautiously through my OWN neighborhood
to go get a bottle of juice.
I walked down the pale faced streets
just to quench a thirst I should not have satisfied.
My hoodie was suppose to be my safe haven.
With eyes low to the ground I walked, did not run
back to where I was suppose to be safe.
My sanctuary within my own domain
not bothering any other soul
I was followed by a terrified white pointed hood
I was taunted by the fears of this pale faced conservative
I was haunted by the history of demeaning eyes
Darting in my direction I knew to keep a steady pace
I kept my hoodie over my face
to hide this nigga I did not choose to be.
I was just a black boy, not yet facing my own manhood.
I was not judged by my character,
by my life
by my choices
but by my hood
by my skin
considered a nigga
I was killed like one.
Attacked, demeaned, beaten and shot.
This hood was suppose to keep me safe
this hood was suppose to hide my face
conceal this race, my NIGGA BLACK THAT I DIDN'T ASK FOR.
I was not yet a man.
I was not yet legal to cast my own vote for freedom, peace and justice.
Who will seek mine now that I'm gone?
He wore a white pointed hood, and shot me
because my hood was not the same
I'm from a different hood,
In my OWN neighborhood I was slane.
I did not have to have been from the hood.
I wore a hoodie that was different from his.
Concealing my only difference, nigga black.
I did not ask for this death, I did not ask for this race.
But I am yet a dead black man who use to live in a white America.


RIP Trayvon Martin