CISPA passed… Great!

So here’s what…

I’m by no means ashamed of who I am and what I represent, however; other people (mostly bigots, racist, and prejudice people) who don’t agree with my views and don’t want everyone to be great will do their best to use things that I believe are perfectly fine against me. I work a job that I am very grateful for but that over works me and doesn’t pay enough. I work with mostly small town old southern cacausian women, whom of which would be the first to judge me if they knew how I grew up or how I felt about certain people and politics. I wouldn’t put it past them to try to have me fired because I don’t believe the same things they do. I know how to be professional and I believe I do a pretty good job at being an adult at work most days. But if they were to see my any of my social networks other than FB, they would see the unprofessional, raw, un-sugarcoated me. Then they would judge, they would judge harshly and make me out to be some sort of unworthy heathen because I live my life the way I see fit. Because I’ve seen them do it. They don’t agree with homosexuality, Muslims, any religion besides Christianity, “Yankees”, Jews, etc. Which is fine because they have fist amendment rights that protect their freedoms, however; so do I. I don’t judge them, they shouldn’t be given help judging me. Therefore, I think that CISPA passing is a bad idea and I hope it doesn’t go down the route I see it going, or I may be a poor Grad student in ridiculous debt because I’m unemployed due to another stupid law made by out of touch representatives that up hold the US dollar more than they do the US constitution. *steps off soapbox*

Awesome engagement photos

Awesome engagement photos

I was scrolling down my tumblr and saw this and I was so intrigued! They are both very attractive people, they have a nice classic sense of style, they’re an interracial couple., they photograph really well! I looked at these photographs in awe. I mean I didn’t really feel like they were in love except in a few pics, but they do have a certain chemistry that is hard to miss. When they time comes for me to be betrothed, hopefully the beau and I can take pics just as nice… and then of course a ridiculous photo shoot because I’d be kidding myself if I tried to deny how silly and goofy I am.

I hate small talk

I abhor, loathe, can’t stand, detest, despise, execrate, small talk. Yes I am aware that it is not polite or of good taste to walk up to someone you don’t know and tell them intimate details of your life, or ask deep rooted “inappropriate questions”  but why not? I hate having to discuss the weather and today’s top hits. Why is it so wrong that I want to walk up and start a conversation with someone about the intricacies of the how our education system is failing us? Why can I not discuss with a comrade on the bus stop that I am writing a science fiction novel that isn’t science fiction at all and is really a love story about a Robot and cheese so I should be able to deem it science fiction. Why can’t I discuss with the mailman why an unpopular is based in some truth but because of our failing education system no one believes it because we’re breast fed propaganda from the time we’re infants and can push the power button on the television? It’s not fair, that my conversations are reduced to mindless thoughtless concepts like “nice weather” and gossip, so why should I be forced into the corner of polite conversation when it makes my soul itch? Eaux, because I don’t want to embarrass or make others uncomfortable… fck that. No one cares about my sensitivities to mundane acts, so I shouldn’t have to care about them being uncomfortable. HMPH!

Have you ever…

Have you ever just not been a fan of someone’s face? Not that they’re ugly or uncute, just you don’t like it? I just saw this boy and he by “traditional American standards” would be cute, but I was just not a fan. Now I do have my personal biases, but this one was different. He was plain, forgettable, but I remembered him because of how much I was not here for his face. This is weird…

Adventures in pettiness

Most people know what being petty is. I would say it’s dwelling on the unimportant trivial things. Most of the time I don’t concern myself with such matter; however… from time to time I feel the need to stoop to the level of the plebeians who insist on concerning themselves with my life. This happens from time to time and it happened for the first time this year last night. Here’s the particulars.

Last year in my senior year of college some of my friends and I decided to entertain an invitation to participate in the 1st Annual Shimmy Like a Nupe contest (A Nupe is a elevated member of the D9 fraternity Kappa Alpha Psi who are known for canes and shimmying). As much as I love individual members of this chapter and organization this event wasn’t that well organized, (understandably so being that it was the first year, but still) so we got creative with our performance. Now from my understanding we were just supposed to do a stroll (performing a dance in line format with 2 or more people), but since they told us we could do whatever we wanted to in 4 minutes we decided to do a show of some sort and opted out of having a member of the organization as a coach (mostly because I am a member of a sorority that shimmy’s so we didn’t need their help). We spent about 3 weeks or so coming up with a routine, practicing, and critiquing ourselves. The day of the show, as expected, was chaotic. The event did not start on time, which we expected, and none of the members of the organization had arrived until the show was supposed to be about 15 minutes in. As I sat in the back hallway guzzling rum and chasing it with blackberry Merlot, my CL4B came and asked me if we would mind going first because the other teams were either scared or didn’t want to go first. I looked at him with half glazed eyes and said, “Sure, we ain’t scared.” He laughed and replied, “That’s why you my club!”, I nodded and went to tell my group even though I wanted to say “No I’m your number because we stood in the same place on our respective lines” but I figured that was neither here nor there so I refrained.

The lights dimmed and we jigged onto the dance floor to do our performance. Which included a a few kicks, a couple leans, a 3 slow shimmies, 6 fast shimmies, and chair dance to Beyonce’s Dance for you, and of course a seductive Trey Song’s number. The crowd had gone ape sh*t three times by the time we strolled off the stage to Kirko bangz Drink in my Cup (an Ode to the Omicron Phi chapter of KAPsi who always have cups of adult beverages lol). When our performance was over, all of our hair was sweated out.

The other teams performances were, in the crowd’s opinion, less than mediocre. Looks of confusion, disgust, and boredom fill the room and eventually anger when one team completely disregarded the one rule we were actually given. DO NOT THROW UP THE KAPPA’s HAND SIGN. They were disqualified and didn’t even know it.

Moment of truth:

As the host asked the crowd which group they enjoyed the most, the crowd bellowed: Group ONE!!! To be fair, they let us stand up one by one and let the crowd vote in applause. We won by a landslide. But true to the nature of sore losers the other groups were mad. The took to several social networking sites with how the show was rigged, and how we “didn’t even do that great” and my personal favorite “How they win and the SGRho can’t even shimmy?” All the hate made me giggle (I was also still a little inebriated). Because I know how pressed they were about the entire situation, I decided to take to the same social networks and address them. On Twitter I replied to her tweet about winning with a snide remark about how if they wanted the wristband that bad they could have them because we already get into parties free and the one about me no being able to shimmy, I simply responded by saying: “Her opinion didn’t matter because she doesn’t know what it means to shimmy anyway”. Both comments were confrontational, but I entertained them. Neither of my replies received responses, although they received many retweets from instigators.

Now we are coming up on the 2nd annual Shimmy like a Nupe contest. As I scrolled up my Instagram TL last night I saw the advertisement for it, and in the comments I read a conversation between two young ladies:

Girl 1: LMAOO @girl2 yu gonna do it again? (I hate people who type like that)

Girl 2: Nope! They cheated us last year, I’m still salty @girl1

I decided to comment as well

Me: Y’all should be good @girl2 I heard the team from last year all graduated and moved on with their lives

(Oblivious to the shade I had just thrown)

Girl 2: lol they do favoritsim doesn’t matter. I’ll be in the audience this time though @me. What do you think @Coach

Coach: @girl2 I think because the first group went first it came out like that. (wrong). All the moves was gone be the same. But I’m proud of my team soooo.. Y’all was better than my line brother’s group for sure though hahaa

and @me you funny haha

I didn’t respond because the girl wasn’t in no way shape or form knowledgeable of who I was nor that I was throwing Nimbus cloud shade at her.

Needless to say I had a great laugh while being petty, but I had a nice plum daiquiri and got back to business as usual (helping people be great). I wish the videographer of the show would post the videos so we could prove once if for all if the other teams should have one or if they are just being Dead Sea Salty. But until that happens… We won, we won, we shot the bbgun, yall lost yall lost, yall ate tomato sauce!



(noun) \sə-ˈfis-tə-ˈra-chət\:

a person with the an inherent ability to identify with sophisticated culture and understand standings as well as urban culture and terminiology

(adjective) describing a person who has the superior knowledge of being able to combine cultures of seemingly opposite constructs.


Other definitions: from


1: a woman of highly educated pedigree (academically, socially, and otherwise) and worldly breeding; fluent in various forms of public etiquette yet is equally knowledgeable of the latest strip club songs, updated on most prime-time ratchet cable programs and conversant in the tongue of hoochie mama.

2: a high-class individual who is open to incorporating low-brow tendencies in to her persona for momentary enjoyment.

3: an otherwise brilliant woman but, for some reason, is a Blackberry owner who, at times, is puzzled by touch screen mobile technology.

4: she is a “Vision of Love” and can (Nicki Minaj voice) “raah, raah!” like a “Dungeon Dragon.”

5: she is multilingual, speaking several UN-recognized languages; she is an expert in a tongue that will never be heard at a General Assembly: rachatese.

How I understand sophistirachet

Somewhere in my junior year of college I realized that there were many different types of people (specifically women). I knew this before of course, but now I could see clear cut where the divisions lay. I found myself surrounded by women whom I would describe as sophisticated. They were well behaved (in public), well dressed, stylish, smart, progressive, leaders, business minded, and steadfast; they were like me. I didn’t know some of them personally, but we were well acquainted and ran in most of the same circles. The end of my junior year I had gotten into closer acquaintances with these girls, as we were beginning to plan our University’s Annual Women’s Empowerment Conference. Through 10 long months of planning, re-planning, promoting, coercing, decorating, etc, I got to know these young women. I got to see the ratchet side of them come out.

We worked hard planning the conference, and being undergrads at a party school we played hard as well. We would work 2-5 hours discussing adversities women go through and when we were done we would go have a few glasses of wine/spirits and twerked something basic at the club and/or house party we saw fit.

After the huge success of the conference, I sat with myself and recalled the last 10 months. the sophistication of women from different backgrounds coming together to make a phenomenal conference exceed expectations and the rachetness we needed to have as a de-stressing protocol. It was a duality in which I had seen nothing else like. It was beautiful.

I don’t think I’ve coined the term “sophistirachet” however I do feel as though myself and several others came about the terminology around the same time. While sitting with several of the ladies I had planned the conference with and several young gentleman on campus the term was brought into fruition as we knew it. Meant first to be a joke, it began to stick. It became a running joke, and then by some feat a reality. My alma mater is/was the epitome of sophistirachet. We are well dressed, well versed, well educated and our humor is impeccable. All of these abilities span from the classroom, to the club, to the beach, to home life. After all, who doesn’t enjoy looking like a model cooking gourmet meals while taking shots of grain alcohol and studying physics simultaneously?