Illmatic: The Genesis

I have a strange idea. It's either gonna be incredible or incredibly lame, but since I committed to posting everyday this month, let's give it a try. If it doesn't work, then I can always just stop right? Anyway, my idea is to take my blog title posts from the songs on one of my favorite albums ever: Illmatic by Nas. I'll write the post based on the song title. It will not be matching up with the song lyrics, because my life is so much different than the stuff Nas was rapping about, but it should at least spark some ideas to write about. Track # 1 is called "The Genesis." This may be esoteric and only make sense to me, but here we go anyway...

Track 1: The Genesis

The Genesis of this blogging thing happened in December of 2005. That's when I started my first blog. I had no idea what I was doing. I had no idea what I was going to write about (much like today.) I just knew that I had recently discovered the whole world of blogging and liked the idea. I don't remember the first blog I read, but I do know it was a girl from NY that was writing about her experiences dating. The idea was novel and fresh to me that I just had to be a part of it.

So, I sat there on December 3rd, and put key to keyboard. The first post was sort of an introduction. I entitled it "Who I'm Is" after a quote from T.I.'s song "Rubberband Man." At the time, he was blowing up in Atlanta and you couldn't go an hour without hearing that song on one of our various urban radio stations. I just sat down and wrote. I realized that my niche in the blog world was to be Mr. Hip Hop. All of my blog post titles were quotes from hip hop lyrics. I knew nobody was reading, but I didn't really care. I started out just writing in the hopes that someone would feel what I was saying, or at the very least care enough to leave a comment. It took about a month before I realized that in order to have people read my shit, I had to read theirs. So I did. I read and commented and next thing I knew, I became pretty popular. Mad comments every day. My work life consisted mainly of reading blog posts and responding to my comments, not to mention obsessing over my site meter. Trying to figure out who was reading my blog.

A funny thing happened along the way. I started getting invites to have IM conversations and later invites to real life hanging out. It was cool. Anti Social Rashan was breaking out of his shell. This all started out from just a boring guy trying to pass the time. I became part of the in crowd and started meeting more and more bloggers. It started out with her, then later I met her and her, Even later I met her, and she came and crashed at my apartment when she was in town. I went through the whole gamut from blog crushes to blog beef to blog cliques etc. Blog life and real life were pretty much overlapping.

Then it all came crashing down. The people I was cool with no longer wanted me around. I don't blame them. Some ill shit went down, and I just kept quiet about it. The thing about sharing so much about yourself is that people feel entitled to know every aspect of your life. That's my fault. I'm sure they expected me to talk about it like I did with everything else. But it was too personal to me. Slowly but surely, these same bloggers stopped visiting, stopped calling, stopped IM'ing me. And I stopped blogging. For an entire month, I thought nothing about my blog or anyone else's blog. When the time was right, I came back in a new spot. I linked from the old blog to the new, you see. I wasn't hiding out, I just needed a change. The blog colors changed from dark to light. It was symbolic of what I was trying to accomplish. I was trying to get rid of the negative energy that surrounded my old blog. Let's just say it didn't work. It took a few months, but I finally realized it wasn't the blog that had the negative energy, it was me. I had to reevaluate my life and get my shit together.

And now here I sit. I like blogging, but I'm not obsessed with it. I write my innermost thoughts, but not everything. I'm candid, yet reserved. I read blogs but not so much that it takes over my whole day. I've not met any more bloggers in person (not that I'm philosophically opposed to the idea.) I've learned how to share just what I want to share, and not every little thought I have. I mean what I say in my tag line.. This time I'm gonna try to do things differently. I think for the most part I have.

The Genesis was an insomnia laden December night in 2005. I wrote some damn good blog posts (like this one), had some damn crazy blog ideas (like the damn 8 part Blog Real World series, da hell was I thinking with that one?), and met some cool people. But you know what? I wouldn't trade it for the peace of mind I have now. Only time will tell what will happen next.

Tomorrow: Track 2: NY State of Mind

I Promise No More Posts About Work This Week

After this one of course... Share in the craziness that surrounds me. Overheard at work on a Sunday Night...

"Ooh, I got tingles when you called me baby!" - Possible stalker chick # 1 (When the hell did I call you baby?)

"I watched Mr. Brooks yesterday. I could really relate to that movie" - The Suspected Pedophile (now suspected serial killer)

"Why do you keep trying to push me away?"- Possible stalker chick #2 (Cuz you won't go away on your own.)

"Uh-uh, go the other way. I just farted." - The new young girl from NY

"Maybe you should just go sit on the toilet for awhile and see what happens" - The new young girl from NY's friend.

"That fart was hot. It's burning my ass. Damn hot wings" - The new young girl from NY

"(Our manager) isn't here again. When are you taking his job?"- Random co worker.

"Do you think I can get the day before Thanksgiving off?" - Unrealistic girl that just started this week.

"You really aren't gonna try some of my potato salad? I made this for you." - The white girl that tells me I remind her of her ex boyfriend.

"Sorry, I don't eat other peoples food. It's nothing personal, but you may be nasty." - Me

"You really do have a split personality, Rashan." - The white girl that tells me I remind her of her ex boyfriend.

"Why does that girl sitting next to you sound like a midget?" - Me

"Okay, give me your number and I'll plan something for your birthday" - Possible stalker chick # 2

"Nah, that's all right, I already got plans. Thanks though." - Me

"If you guys need anything, just ask Rashan. He's your assistant manager." - Shady manager who didn't want to do any work

"Ewww.. What is that on the floor? It looks like dead skin. Who is exfoliating at work?" - Pregnant girl that doesn't look pregnant

"C'mon stay with us until we get off. It's only an extra hour. You did it the other day." - Random co-worker.

"You gonna walk me to my car so I don't get snatched." - Possible stalker chick #1

"Who would snatch you? Oops, did I say that out loud. I meant you're like 6 feet tall. You probably can fight them off better than I can." - Me

"I was just asking what you did this weekend so I know whether I have to beat some girl up. Just kidding" - Possible stalker chick #1

"If only you were kidding. I actually believe you meant that shit" - Me

"You are so mean, Rashan. It's almost like you don't want me to like you." - Possible stalker chick #1

"Almost?" - Me

"Fine, then be that way. I'm not gonna call you anymore. You never answer anyway." - Possible stalker chick #1

"Okay, great! Have a good night!" - Me

Those are some of the conversations I heard and was a part of at work last night. I may have actually gotten rid of one potential stalker (this is the one I was telling you about a couple of weeks ago.) This posting everyday thing is tapping my creativity. I may need some help. If you have any questions that you want me to answer, or ideas for blog topics, leave them in the comments or email me at visionz74@yahoo.com. I'll try to answer any reasonable questions from verifiable sources. That means no crazy anonymous questions. The questions can be crazy, but not anonymous. Let me know who you are. Aiight, I'm out. Peace!

Burning Down The House pt 2

Click Here for Part One or just scroll down one post.

I was gonna make this Monday's post, but I finished it so I might as well post it....

"Hey, man. Come get me. My house burned down!"

I admit, I didn't believe Kareem when he said that. He and I have that strange sense of humor where we would just say the craziest thing that came to mind. Usually, we were in sync and I could tell when he was joking and vice versa. This time however, I thought he was just bullshitting.

"Man, what's up! I just got home. I'll hit you up later."

"Nah, man! I'm serious. My house burned down."

"Fuckouttahere, man! It's too early for this shit."

"Seriously, Rashan! My shit burned down. I had to hop out the window butt ass naked"

"Damn, you serious... You all right? Where's Chandra?"

"She left a little bit after you guys did."

Then I heard the garbled transmissions from the fire trucks in the background. This nigga wasn't playing at all.

"I'll be there in 10 minutes."

I got up and threw on some clothes, and grabbed an extra set for Kareem. I hopped in the VW Fox and sped out to Kareem's mama's crib in Georgetown. When I got there, I couldn't believe what I saw. The condo was gone. Other than the foundation, there was nothing left to indicate that people once lived there. Kareem was sitting in the back of an ambulance. Thankfully, someone had already given him some clothes. I wasn't trying to know that much about my homeboy. When he saw me pull up, he came over to the car and got in.

"Shit, man. You straight? Did you get burned or something?"

"Just got some smoke inhalation. I couldn't get out the door so I had to break a window, so I got cut a little."

"What happened?"

"Between me and you... were those candles still burning when you left?"

"Damn, I don't know. Did you call Chandra yet?"

"No, you know how she panics. I just want to get outta here."

"You sure it's okay to leave?"

"If anyone asks...there were no candles. Let's ride out."

So we did. I continued to question him and we worked on getting our story straight just in case anyone asked. We sat in front of my grandmother's house for awhile until we were confident that our stories aligned. In between hacking coughs, a result of the smoke inhalation, we decided that if anyone asked I was with Lisa and he was with Chandra the previous night, but he went home alone. We decided to skip the whole candlelight dinner portion of the evening, just in case that was what caused the fire.

We went inside and told everyone what happened. My mother cried a little. My grandmother prayed over us. And then he had to call his mom. I couldn't bear to hear that conversation so I went in another room and watched TV. Tupac and Dr. Dre's California Love video premiered that day and they were showing it every hour on MTV. It's totally unrelated to the story, except for the fact that I think of the fire whenever I hear that song. Kareem stayed with us for about a week, wearing my clothes and even hanging out while I went to school and work.

We talked to Lisa and Chandra, and neither of them could remember definitively if the candles were still burning when we left. For all we knew it wasn't our fault that the house burned down. It could have been faulty wiring, or the lights on the Christmas tree could have shorted out. Shit, Kareem might have left the oven on after cooking our dinner. We honestly didn't know. But in our hearts, we really thought it was those damn candles. The same candles that set the mood and added to the ambiance of our perfect evening were more than likely responsible for the destruction of their home.

Months later, the official insurance report blamed faulty wiring for the blaze. Due to the extent of the fire, they really couldn't tell what caused it, so they paid the settlement. Kareem's mom got a bigger house, but we still lived with the guilt that we may have been responsible for setting the blaze. I don't think Kareem's mom trusted him for years after that. If she suspected anything, she never said anything to me about it, but I could just tell in the way she interacted with Kareem that something was different. Along with the fire, all trust went up in flames too. We tried to do something nice for our girlfriends and ended up with a burnt down condo.

Burning Down The House pt 1

Here's another one of my reminiscing ass stories. I'll try to wrap this one up in two parts. It still counts as posting every day. Let's set the scene..

New Years Eve - Savannah, Georgia 1995

My homeboy Kareem and I decided that we would do something special for our ladies on New Years. I was 21 at the time and was dating Lisa. Kareem was with Chandra. We both were in pretty much committed relationships and feeling pretty grown up. The only problem was although we felt grown up, we both were poor college students living at home. This year, however, the problem was solved as Kareem's mother was in Atlanta visiting family. This meant that for pretty much the entire Christmas break, we had the crib to ourselves. We didn't get wild with it, but daily Madden tournaments and loud rap music were on the menu everyday. During one of our games, we came up with the idea of candlelight dinner, champagne and slow music for our sweethearts. Kareem was the chef, and I was working so I bought the food and liquor.

On this night, I got off of work at 7:30, and went home and showered and put on some grown man clothes. Well, what passed for grown man clothes for a 21 year old hip hop head who didn't go to church so had no ties. I threw on some creased slacks and a nice conservative sweater that didn't say FUBU or Karl Kani on it. I was looking clean if I say so myself. I drove across town to pick up Lisa, who had no idea what we had in store for the evening. I purposely withheld the details, and yet somehow managed to convince her to skip church that night, even though her mom wanted her to go. When we got to Kareem's crib, Chandra was already there and it was time to start our evening.

It was a real cool scene. Kareem had decked the place out with candles, scented ones he "borrowed" from his mother, and others just for dramatic lighting effect. One of our patented mixtape collaborations was playing on the stereo. Dinner was served and we had good conversation and sipped some cheap bubbly (well except for Lisa, who couldn't drink because of her anti seizure medicine. That's another story I need to tell one day.) Other than a minor mishap with the cork, (we never drank that kind of liquor) everything was lovely. After dinner, we headed downtown to watch the Peach drop on River Street. We walked hand in hand, and even had some out of the ordinary public displays of affection happening. Everything about that night exuded love and romance.

After the festivities downtown, we went back to Kareem's house. We had some more conversation and champagne, and after awhile Kareem and Chandra excused themselves and went in the back. Lisa and I went to Kareem's room to umm.. "sleep" on the water bed. It was some of the best "sleep" that we had. After we "slept" we fell asleep and woke up around 8 in the morning. We got dressed and I took Lisa back to her sister's house, then went home to crash. I took a shower and was sleep for about 30 minutes when the phone call came. I remember it like it was yesterday. At 9:42 AM on January 1st, 2006, the phone startled me out of my REM sleep. It was Kareem.

"Hey, man. Come get me. My house burned down!"

Keep Your Apology

"Don't ever fix your lips like collagen/ and say somethin' when you gon end up apology'n"

Kanye West "Can't Tell Me Nothing" 2007

One thing I can't stand is a fake apology. Whenever someone gets caught doing some dumb shit, they apologize like that's gonna make things better. I could care less about your apology because it's insincere. You can't just apologize for some shit that you meant to do. Just gets on my nerves. Like this "Dog" Chapman dude. The bounty hunter says "nigger" a whole bunch and then apologizes? Get the fuck outta here. You meant that shit. It's only because you got caught on tape that you are trying to apologize. By the way is anybody actually surprised that he would use that word? I watched his show one time and dismissed him as a backwoods racist. Maybe that was just me being racist, but he looked like a racist to me. Its like that in real life too. People just come up with insincere apologies all the time. Like if a man gets caught cheating, they'll say they are sorry when in actuality the only thing they are sorry about is getting caught. It just makes no sense to me. Do you actually believe that apology?

Maybe that's why I don't apologize very easily. At work, I have to give insincere apologies all the time. That's just part of the game, but in my real life, I just don't do it unless I mean it. Sometimes the sarcastic stuff I say hurts (sensitive) peoples feelings. I could apologize, but I don't, because I meant to do that. I fully intended to say some smart shit out of my mouth and I was fully aware of the possible consequences. Likewise, I don't like when people are all apologetic because they think it will appease me. I can see through that mess. If you don't really mean it, and if you are just saying it because you got caught doing whatever, please do me a favor. Keep your damn apology!

You Can't Mean Mug In A Lavender Shirt

Today was a strange day at work. My manager took a vacation day and basically left me in charge. It wasn't explicitly stated that I was in charge, but everybody seemed to think I was. I'm not going to lie, I loved every minute of it. I loved people coming to me for every little thing. I loved being able to handle all kinds of issues. It reminded me of last year when I was the man, instead of a peon. It was cool for a day, but I wouldn't want the responsibility full time again. Here's where the problem came.

About halfway through the day, there was damn near a mutiny. Apparently, everything that I was doing right, my co workers felt our manager was doing wrong. A spontaneous griping session broke out. I didn't like being caught in the middle of it. I pride myself on staying out of the whole office politics scene. I do my job and I go home. I don't want to hear about how he never responds to your emails, or how your computer has been broken for 2 weeks and I got it fixed in 2 minutes. I sure don't want to hear about how he has been ignoring your vacation requests, and I got it taken care of. This is just temporary. Tomorrow, I go back to being regular Joe.

I heard at least 6 times today "Rashan, you should be our manager." Maybe it's true. But I don't want it. If I go that route again, I know that I'll get comfortable and not work towards my career goal. I don't want to be a mid management stooge again. I've been there, and although I was good at what I did, it took over my life. I couldn't go out on a Friday night without getting a phone call about some so called emergency. I couldn't relax on a Saturday without checking my work email from home. The thought of doing that again made me tense. I wear my thoughts on my face alot of the time, so I involuntarily started mean mugging. It looked a little like this... minus the 5 o clock shadow.

At that very moment, sexy green shirt girl (I don't know her name) walked by and said... "You can't mean mug in a lavender shirt. It just doesn't work!" For some reason that was the funniest thing to me. I immediately let those unpleasant thoughts go. I haven't even applied for the job, so why was I worried about it? Yes, I'm being groomed, but they can't make me do something I don't want to do. And hell, maybe I do want to do it. Regardless, there was no need to be looking hard, especially while I was looking resplendent in my lavender shirt. LOL. I replaced the mean mug with a smile, something like this...minus the 5 O'clock shadow.

Post Script

I was reading Jameil's blog and she mentioned something about posting every day in November for National Blog Writing Month. I'm not usually a follower, but I'm gonna give it a try. Be forewarned: This may mean lots of cliffhanger 3 part stories and tags/memes, but I think I'm up for the challenge. I've made it through 2 days, just 28 to go. Everybody have a good weekend, and if you aren't doing anything check back on Saturday to see if I actually wrote something.

Peace and Blessings from the guy in the lavender shirt.

If You Were Looking For A Real Post...

Instead you get a tag. Everybody say thanks to Diva! I'm kidding, if she didn't tag me, I probably wouldn't have written anything.

The rules of the game are:
A). Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog
B). Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself
C). Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs
D). Let each person know that they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

I was tagged by the Opinionated Diva. What can I say about myself that I haven't shared already? Not sure if any of these are repeats or not, but here goes:

1. In college I wrote a concept album called "The Relationship" (copyright. Rashan Jamal W. 1997) in Philosophy class. I always used to write rhymes, but that class was so remedial that I didn't even bother to pretend like I was listening. The Relationship was an album that tracked a couple from when they first met, got together, had drama, to the end of the relationship. It consisted of 12 songs; 3 dedicated to different aspects of the relationship. (Meeting, Dating, Shacking, Possible Marriage.) It was pretty good too. I just didn't have anybody to do my beats for me.

2. I am deathly afraid of guns. I've had at least 3 occasions where I've had a gun pulled on me, not to mention being in the wrong time at wrong place/innocent bystander stuff. I refuse to hold a gun because I always feel like I would accidentally shoot myself, no matter how careful I was. And given the number of times I've cheated death, I got to watch out for the whole "Final Destination" thing, so no guns for me.

3. I almost got suspended for high school for refusing to say the Pledge of Allegiance. I could go into a long explanation of that, but I may need to write that story in the future when I can't think of anything else to write. Long story short, Rashan X didn't back down and eventually prevailed.

4. I was in the chorus in high school and always sang background. My senior year they asked/forced me to do a solo. I didn't want to do it, but eventually got over myself and represented. I was even on TV on this Christmas special. The song: Sleigh Ride (The California Raisins Version). I tried to find a link, but I couldn't. It was crazy, hip hop Rashan X, singing and dancing in a tuxedo shirt with a bow tie and cummerbund. I'm such a walking contradiction.

5. It's almost impossible to make me mad, which is a good thing sometimes but also a bad thing. I let people get away with stuff without getting angry about it. Someone told me that I was gonna snap one day; all the anger I've been holding inside is gonna make me shoot up a building or something.

6. I'm obsessed with finding creative ways to kill people. Let me clarify, I would never do it, but I think about ways to do it. For some reason I can put myself in the shoes of a murderer or a terrorist and say, "this would be an effective way to kill a whole buncha muhfuckas." It's not even a morality issue, but more of a creative exercise. Did I mention that I would never kill anyone? Hell, I haven't even been in a fight since elementary school. I blame my macabre "talent" on the writer in me. I fully expect to get the the cut eye for this one. For the sake of not totally repulsing you, I wont include any examples of ways I've come up with to kill people.

7. I've been influenced by one movie more than any other: New Jersey Drive. Let me explain, I didn't go out and start stealing cars like they did, and I usually can separate the movies from real life. But when I saw this movie, (like 20 times) I actually started unintentionally mimicking their speech patterns. I started talking like I was from up North again. Now like 13 years later, I still will tell you "aiight son', or tell you "fuckouttahere, yo!" (leaving off the "get the") in a NY/NJ accent or throw in "worrrd???" or "nahmean?" in everyday speech patterns. Have I mentioned I haven't been to NY/NJ since 1992? I think its all from watching that movie so many times.

Okay, I'm not gonna tag anyone because I don't follow rules (you can make that #8.) If you just can't get enough of me talking about myself, feel free to check out my 101 things about me list from the old blog, conveniently linked for your perusing pleasure. One!