#31WriteNow Day 1 - Allow me to reintroduce myself...

So, the homie, Luvvie, came up with this blog challenge for the month of August.  Everyday, I am to post something to my blog.  I couldn't quite come up with a theme.  I was thinking of writing a short story...but I'm Sweet Brown to it.

In other words, I don't have time for that.

*ba dum tss*

Since the title of my blog is Fantastical Randomocity, I think it's OK for me to be random for these next 31 days.  Just think of these posts for the next 31 days as me updating my Facebook status.

So for today, I'm going to start with 10 random facts about me.

I put this here because it wouldn't align correctly for number 5.  Ain't I cute, though?  OK, continue reading.

1. I rarely introduced myself as "K.D."...and it still sounds weird when I hear folk introduce me as such.  Not that there's anything wrong with it.
2. 10 Myths About Introverts.  Yep...me.
3. I haven't been on a real date since "Ted" was in theaters last summer.  And I am OK with this.
4. I told my father to "get off my ovaries" when he asked me about kids last year.  Hasn't asked me about them since.
5. When my hair gets longer, I am going to recreate that pic above from when I was about 3 years old. Ponytails and all, since folk think I still look the same.
6. I am the oldest of two girls, but the youngest amongst my close friends.  Balance.
7. I've learned to not tell my crushes when I'm crushing on them. It's always lead to embarrassment in the past...from high school to adulthood.  So, I just shut up.
8. I think people who included lyrics in their liner notes are angels. Sometimes, my ears don't hear what these artists say.
9. Eye shadow and lip gloss...all the make-up I need in this life of sin.
10. I hope I can keep this challenge going.

K to the...

Basketball Chronicles: My Name is My Name

*Word to Marlo Stansfield*

I don't know what it is about Sunday morning hoop sessions that test my baby gangster...but it was tested once again this past Sunday.

It was the last or second-to-last game of the hoop session.  A guy comes in to replace one of my teammates.  One of my teammates points out everyone on our team:

Jerk:  It's me, [name], [name], [name], and "the girl"
One of the NAMED fellas:  Why does she have to be "the girl"?
Me:  I have a name.  It's Kenya.
Jerk:  It's easier to say "the girl".
Me:  No, it's easier to say "Kenya."
Jerk:  He might not know who "Kenya" is.
Me:  Everybody in here knows who I am. I'm the only lady in here on Sundays.

After the game, he tries to explain why he said "the girl."

Jerk:  I said "the girl" because he may not have known who "Kenya" is.
Me:  But my name is, usually, for a female.  If he heard the name, he would think "Oh, the lady on the court."
Jerk:  I wasn't thinking like that.

Obviously.

There is no logical explanation for referring to me as anything except "Kenya".  Especially since I've been a Sunday regular the past year and a half.

Stupid ish like this is why I stopped hooping on Sundays, for about 3 months.  I felt like my time was being wasted (If certain folk aren't on maugs' team, they don't want to play right) and my game wasn't being respected.  Not only do I have to be strong, physically; I have to be mentally strong, as well.

K to the...

P.S.  Young Money still has no post moves and still can't score on me.  More proof that height and lifting weights don't mean ish if you don't know how to use it.

Swank!

Rambling - 7.15.13

Didn't realized it had been 2 months since I posted.  Well, it's summertime...'nough said.  So, no theme for today's post...just rambling.

• My grandmother has officially been diagnosed with Alzheimer's.  It's not the inevitable that bothers me...it's the changes before the inevitable occurs.  Watching the changes hurts like hell, at times.  But, she's still my Mei-Mei...and she is still putting on heels every day.
• I still don't like my place of employment.  But, I know my worth well enough to not just apply for any job just to get away.  I don't need a repeat of the current situation I'm in.  
• Fawk George Zimmerman.
• Was on vacation for a week with some dope people.  Ate good, drank good, laughed good...TANNED good. It was a much needed break from reality.
• It wasn't until the trip that I SAW how yoga has sculpted my body, in addition to the strength and poise I've obtained from the practice.
• No, really.



My fave beach pose.  "To di world!"

• I am an introvert...who can be socially awkward at times.  Yet, I showed up at Posh Entertainment day party solo dolo, sipped and jammed!  I had so many random conversations with strangers...even met a soror.  Maybe it was the Avion tequila.  It definitely wasn't that extra-regular-tasting Ace of Spades poured in my glass by some "baller." -__-
• The only reason I can remember the date I became single is because Amy Winehouse died on the same day.  The date is approaching.  I miss Amy.
• I got stood up for dinner last Wednesday.  I've yet to receive a phone call explaining what happened.  If that ain't some "Ain't sh!t-ness" for ya...
• I said it before and I'll say it again.  I love love and love seeing my peeps in love.  I just don't see it for myself, at this point in time.  
• I might be one of the most respectful, inebriated folk on Earth.  Before chatting up with a few fellas on Saturday, I would ask if they were single.  If so, then I'd keep the convo short.  If no, then they may have gotten juked on and we chatted a bit longer.  Drama: Ish I don't have time for.
• A while back, I was at a house party for a friend's birthday.  The boyfriend of the homeowner (who I didn't know was her boyfriend) looked familiar and I was trying to get his attention to see from where I knew him.  I really hope she didn't think I was trying to disrespectful.  Again, Drama: Ish I don't have time for.
• FAWK GEORGE ZIMMERMAN!!!
• Am I really supposed to believe that Taco Bell uses real steak?
• Beyonce concert this week...Jay-Z and JT next week.  I'm at both them maugs like a [insert some witty metaphor here]
• I feel like I should have more thoughts to type.
• Summer 2013 is winning like Summer 2012.  Let's keep this good energy going, Universe.

K to the...

Basketball Chronicles: Ego

I am 5' 5 1/2" (Doctor claims I'm not 5'6". Hmph)...125 lbs...and I play basketball with men weighing 150 lbs and more on a weekly basis.  Yess...everyone is bigger than me.  Keep this tidbit in mind as the blogpost continues. 

Lately, I've noticed lately how funny the male ego is on the basketball court.  I've heard the dumbest arguments.  But I find comedy in the male ego in regards to me.  Now, I've told you my size...which leads to guys getting offended when I play D on them.  I've heard a guy go "Are you serious?"  In his eyes, if I'm playing defense on him, it means that I think I can take him...which means I don't think he's that good.

This is when my ego kicks in.  Now, because you don't think I "deserve" to play D on you, I gotta 1) Prove to myself that I can stick you; 2) Light that auss up when I get the ball.

You'd be amazed by all the ish talked to me on the court.  But when I say something back, it's "Oh, you're talking ish?"  You damn right I am...and I'm gonna try my damnedest to back it up, too.

Ego...such a funny thing.

K to the...

Hair

I think all 4 of my regular readers are my friends on Facebook or Instagram.  So, it's not quite news to you that I started my locs back in March.

For those who aren't my friend on any social networks: I STARTED MY LOCS ON MARCH 21, 2013!

With any type of transitioning with hair, there is a phase when you are looking a hot mess.  I have reached that stage, in between my retwists.  But you know what...

I love it!

And I've actually posted pics of it.  

Yikes!

This is a lot coming from someone who wasn't always satisfied with her hair.  It wasn't long enough...it wasn't thick enough...it wasn't enough.  My lil sis and I have different fathers; so naturally, her genetic makeup is different than mine.  She has long, thick, curly hair past her shoulders...while I was blessed (or cursed) with soft hair that barely came to my shoulder.  Hearing that a friend of the family basically said her hair was prettier than mine just...hurt.

It wasn't until I got to college and started wearing my hair down that I noticed that I, too, had length (to the shoulder!) thanks to that good ole wrap.  And because of this lengh I wasn't used to, I tried to hold on to it for dear life.  I graduated from college and found a scissor happy beautician I'd go to every two weeks.  Imagine how irritated I'd be when I say I need my ends clipped and get out the chair with hair so short, I can barely wrap it.  This continued while getting a relaxer and as I became natural.

After one last "clip ends" session, I stopped going to get my hair pressed and rocked my curls.  Length wasn't important anymore, but it was definitely growing.  I was actually close to cutting my hair and having a teeny weeny afro.  Weird.  But I decided against it.

Now here I am, just letting my hair to do its own thing.  And my grey strands (Thanks, Dad!) are outcheah flourishing.

But I love it.

Now if I can just find the right remedy for my dry scalp...

K to the...

Rambling 3.15.13

*This was something was on my heart when I woke up this morning.*

Earlier this week, I told a dear friend in G-Chat that the breakup I experienced in 2011 was the best and worst thing to happen to me.   I made plans.  I knew I had found The One.  Sorority Life took a backseat after going hard for 2008 - 2010 because I was focused on us growing together because the inevitable was going to happen:  Marriage and kids.

Then the breakup.

I didn't know how to deal...what to do to deal.  And my tweets (per my Twitter archive)  reflected that.

So I took a break...from everything.  Less than a week afterwards, I resigned form my position as Sergeant-At-Arms for my chapter and didn't bother paying dues for the 2011-2012 sorority year.  I, purposely, missed different social events because I didn't want to be bothered with anyone except my family and close friends...the ones who never left my side.  I had to get Kenya back in order.

I didn't want to use liquor to cope, so I continued working out and hooping.  I was in the gym on plenty of Fridays nights taking my frustrations out on weights.  Anything but drinking, because drinking brought out emotions.

I despised coming home because of the reason I moved in this apartment.

Shambles, son.

Then, I got an email about yoga class.  One of the benefits was relieving stress.  Say no more.  Sign me up.

Then I turned 29...last year of the 20s.  A "new year"...fresh start.

I got the bullshit out my life.  I forgave.  I grew.  I overcame.  I lived.  The best year of my 20s, yo.

Now, here I am.

I saw a post on Instagram the same day as the g-chat convo mentioned earlier that was so on time.

"Sometimes the bad things that happen in our lives put us directly on the path to the best thing that will ever happen to us."

Bring it on, Life.  Bring it on.

K to the...

Dear 2013/Year 30:

I know I stated in 30 for the Dirty 30 that I didn't know what to expect...but come, on son!  You're effing with me and my friends.  Get your sh!t together!

K to the...