Dating Tip 101: If you have to ask, then you already know the answer...

Last week over our favorite meal, my best friend confessed that she didn't read my blog.  She told me she felt excluded because she wasn't mixed.  In my head I thought "But my blog is about so many other things!"  So, for you dear bestie I present "Dating Tips":
Ladies, far too often I see us getting lost in conversations and sometimes arguments about "what ARE we?"  The truth is simple.  If you have to ask, then you already know the answer.  Don't play yourself by asking, instead pull up your big girl panties and make your own decision.  "Am I comfortable with what we are doing, or do I want more?"   

GABI.

I HAD THE HONOR OF WORKING WITH MY DC SISDA GABI.THIS GIRL AND HER HAIR ARE A FORCE TO BE RECKONED WITH.

copyright abbie sue studios

DITCH THE COMB!!

Truth is, growing up my hair looked AWFUL.  No matter how many times I ran the brush through, no matter the parent (my step-dad tried too) my hair would end up looking like cotton candy.  I was teased with all the usual jokes.  (pubic hair on my head etc).
One day, I decided "NO MORE"!  Everyone deserves to have amazing curls.  And the truth is it's fairly simple.

Step One:  Throw out all of your combs and brushes.  Okay, okay, maybe you can just put them in the drawer, but take them out of your daily styling routine.  They break up the natural curl pattern, making your hair look frizzy and dry.  Seriously.  Just stop using them.  I have been comb and brush free for over 10 years now and you couldn't pay me to use one.

Step Two:  I don't care what color your skin or hair is.  Stop using the comb on curly hair.  STOP.

Step Three:  Evaluate your products.  If you're willing to read the label on your food, then read the label on your conditioner and shampoo.    Most shampoos have the same ingredients to get your hair clean as DISHSOAP.  Don't believe me? Then compare the two that you have in your home.  Check your curl type (see my earlier post) and ditch any products that contain mineral oil.  Pantene is the ENEMY.  If you need more help- contact me and I will work with you.

Step Four:  Detangle your hair with your fingers.  Disclaimer:  Your hair may not look it's awesomest the first day.  If you've been using heat and brushes, you may have damaged your natural curl pattern with all the styling.  It may take a week or so before clearing out the knots becomes easy.  Be patient.  Good hair comes to those who practice healthy techniques.  Use LOTS of conditioner when detangling.  My process in the shower looks like this:

• Shampoo if necessary ( once a week for me)
• Completely coat my hair with conditioner and let it soak in while I wash myself.
• Once my body's clean, I carefully section out my hair, and detangle and smooth from the tips up to the roots.
• Rinse with COLD water.  It keeps the shine and the moisture in tact

Step Five:  Style with your fingers.  Ouidad shows exactly how I rake my fingers through my hair.  She is a good resource for styling tips.  Personally, I use a natural oil first, and then smooth down with a shea butter moisturizer.

I LIKE THIS.

Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get.
But if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen.
- Conan O'Brien

http://blacknconfused.tumblr.com/

Check out this blog, a black hipster chick doin her thing!

Calvin Harris - Bounce feat. Kelis

I love Calvin Harris! I love this video.

The song itself has a cool laid back groove that's prefect for summer dance parties by the pool, all you need is a cold drink in your hand and your set.

Beyoncé - Run The World (Girls)

This is gold!

Freaking Out!!!

More drooling... Idea Shop...

Some Etsy Finds

Okay, just a quick blog to show everyone the kind of things that I usually drool over on Etsy.

Let's begin with the Lamixx Shop. The Indie, earthy, simplistic bohemian in me wants EVERYTHING in this shop. Take a gander.

Yum.

Second is the Ley Collection Shop in which the inner hippie, shabby chic wannabe is screaming for most of the things in this shop.

Fantabulous.

And finally we have the Moxie Apparel Boutique (dude, they have the word "moxie" in their title, it's like guaranteed goodness, son!) in which my inner 80's, hipster, dork to the max finds most of this shiznat to be ballin'.

Yes, with a capital PB and R in hand...

So, go look at those things. Mostly because I told you to, partially because they're all amazing.

Peace. Love. And Magic Sauce.

It's All In The Painting...

Okay, so they're not ALL paintings, but my girl Emilie is an artist and a half. I especially love showing off what my friends can do since I'm surrounded by such gifted and inspiring people that it just feels like my duty. :-)

Please take a hot minute to check out her Awesome Blog as well as her Amazing Flickr.


If the links don't intrigue you...perhaps a sneak peak?



Peace, love, and goodnight.

Because Everyone's Doing It!

Yes, I am talking about YOGA.  Here is a quick intro set to take the mystery out of some basic yoga poses.

10 Essential Yoga Poses: How-To + Video with Rodney Yee

 I am OFFICIALLY a registered 200hr yoga instructor, so if you have any questions, message me and we can set up a Skype meeting!

The Indie Scene

My fabulous brother attracts fabulous people. His one friend Tessa introduced me to the fantasticness that is "Watch, Listen, Tell," a youtube Channel. It focuses mostly on little known bands but has also grabbed some big names like the newly popular Young The Giant and the long standing kings of viral video OKGO.

As I've noticed through most of the video intro's a lot of the film work seems to take place in different parts of London. Bands find acoustic friendly corners, parks, and even graveyards and have it. The sound is extraordinary for the middle of nowhere and the filming is divine to the photographic eye. I've discovered a number of awesome bands on there that I don't think I'd have necessarily found elsewhere. Check it out, kids!

Watch, Listen, Tell

...And my favorite so far...



Enjoy!

Kimbra - Settle Down (Official Music Video HD)

I like this. I hope you do too. Simplistic colors, sweet tap dance rhythm, along with a dash of fiery irony.

More from the Awkward Girl...

I'm pretty sure I NEED one. How about you, ladies?

Natural Beauty

For those of you who know me, you know that I am OBSESSED with hair.   I stumbled upon this hair clarification system that helped me make decisions about what kind of products my hair need.  Intrigued?  Try it out and let me know your type!  I am a 3C.
Hair Type Classification System

OMIGOD Did you see?

For the awkward girls out there ;)

This is absolutely HILARIOUS!  Her viewpoint is refreshing, and trust me, I can relate!  Check out the web series The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl

Heidi Durrow and "The Girl Who Fell From the Sky"

I recently passed the book the Girl Who Fell From the Sky onto Gabrielle. In it, Heidi Durrow weaves a raw tale of human tragedy and eventual triumph. I had to know more about the author after reading this.  Other than writing, Ms. Durrow cohosts Mixed Chicks Chat.  Check it out.  :)

A Page Worth Actually "Like"ing On Facebook

Amongst many of the recent shocking and fatal events in Philly, January 19th was a bit of a shocker. A gas break in the middle of attempted repair caused a massive explosion killing 19 year old Mark Keeley who was just rounding his 5th month on the job. It was a mess. Watching the news that night was heart breaking.

Recently, while driving home from work, I spotted a car with the words "Mumford and Sons For Mark's Birthday/ find us on facebook" written on the back of it. Yes. Of course I looked it up.

As I searched the interwebs for the story behind this car graffiti, I discovered some more sad news. Mark was a hardcore fan of the band and planned on traveling to the South over the summer of 2011 to see them.

In memory of this great loss, family and friends of Mark have started a petition on facebook to try to get the band to come to Philly in honor of the young life that was lost so devastatingly. The page has received almost 18,000 hits since it's start date on April 9th and continues to spread like wildfire...they're even getting hits in other countries.

So! Not to lay any sad notes on anyone as it was a pretty heart wrenching event but this is kind of neat. This isn't just another "like this if you hate when your girlfriend chews gum too loud" kinda page. This is a pretty cool thing and I can only hope that the band gives in and joins in. I urge peoples to give it a glance. Or two. Three, even. It won't hurt.


Mumford For Mark

Fish Eye & Fire and Ice.

My pal Miriam left this note on my laptop,
I found it when I got home tonight.




I drank this wine...





This was on a table @work.

Robert Frost

Fire and Ice

Some say the world will end in Fire
and others say in Ice
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor Fire
But from what I've learned of hate
I know that for destruction
Ice is also great
and would suffice.

ABIGAIL S. BEACHY

This is me.
I keep forgetting to buy toilet paper for my house... my roommates may want to kill me.
While I'm out I should pick up some coffee filters, WARNING without one your coffee may have grounds in it. Like mine did this morning, yum. I LOVE COFFEE.

I need to take a shower.

Epidemic Averted

In attempt to shrug off the serious topic of the introductory post with something laughable I've decided to post our first video.

Anyone who follows viral videos these days is having a laugh at the epidemic that is Friday by Rebecca Black. For those of you who need a different version of the song to take over your brain (and a good laugh)...here are just a few of the GOOD things that have come out of that gosh awful song...






Enjoy.

Writer's Block...(A Look Inside The Mind Of One Dirty Chai-er)

It's an unfortunately common disease that spreads amongst those of us who enjoy putting pen to paper. Whether you're one of the greatest writers of all time or an angst ridden teenager who journals emotional poetry about the woes of the long and painful march through high school-isms. We all face it. Which would probably explain why I've been putting off writing something of substance in this blog.

Something I've allowed to take hold of me over many many years is that my writings are not worthy of public notice. "Gabi, it's just not something people care to read about." A familiar voice in the back of my head repeats this ditty every time I happen upon an idea or a story I want to share.

Today, as The Dirty Chai wipes clean of "re-posts" and starts down the road of fresh, original thought and idea, I would like to start off my portion by giving you a little insight into me, writer's block free. Today I've chosen a specific topic in writing: poetry.

Growing up in an emotionally wrecked home can cause one's mindset to lean towards various ways of coping with the cracks in the floor. Everyone handles these situations differently. In our household, sharing your feelings was an unheard of experience and, if such an event were to take place, it was often ill received. My way of handling things was to force myself not to speak. This specific type of adaptation, I've learned, can often cause what is known as the "soda bottle effect." Shake up a bottle of any carbonated substance long enough and the pressure will cause quite the eruption. Knowing myself well enough to know that this particular effect would probably cause me more pain and heartache than relief, I wrote my feelings down.

When I was hurt, frustrated, or depressed, writing poetry became my scape goat. It wasn't for anyone in particular. Just for me. The words written out were the part of my voice that was locked up; my heart bled on scraps of paper through any writing utensil I could get my hand on. I was never one to speak up because the words would always come out wrong or misleading. I wasn't taught to be comfortable with sharing. Today, although I am learning more and more how to open up, I laughably refer to my lack of good communication skills as "word vomit" or "verbal diarrhea." I can do that now. Laugh about it.

Throughout my adolescence and into my teen years my parents encouraged my gift of words though I'm not entirely sure there was any realization as to why I was so practiced at the time. My very first literature teacher, whom my parents bragged to often about my writing prior to my taking her course at the age of thirteen, confessed to me once that she thought my parents were just "talking me up." That she didn't realize what an amazing gift I had until I began writing essays for her class. I think that growing up filled with all kinds of different and sometimes more mature emotions, my words were a little more personal and it started to show even in my home work assignments.

As high school dragged on and incidents at home piled onto each other like heavy bricks, tension thickened and my words not only began to cut a little deeper but they also became muffed. Sometimes all I could manage to do was scribble out all of the hateful and angry words I felt trapped in my throat. Afterward, I would look at them as if it were something dirty. A self exorcism of sorts; a purging of the ugly part of myself that I had bottled up. Now as I find the crumbled and somewhat eligible bits of papers from my youth, I see more. I see yet another lost teenager crying out for someone to listen to them.

Matchbox Twenty's Singer/Songwriter Rob Thomas was once asked in an interview why his songs were so sad and deep. Thomas blatantly replied that no one writes when they're happy. When they're happy, they're out being happy and enjoying life. When you're sad you have a powerful emotion to write about. I remember this because it applied. It made sense. No great writings ever came from innate happiness. They came from feelings. All kinds of intense and meaningful feelings. Something I actually didn't consider until much further down the "path to self discovery."

Today, now that I'm further along the "path," things have changed. As I've pushed forward and slowly learned to let go and really begin to heal, a new corner in my heart has been exposed to the light. My tongue has loosened. The girl I was back then is not the same girl my reflection shows today. Sometimes I think I share almost TOO much which is a humorous concept for someone with my kind of past. There are still scars, of course, as there will always be but like any wound, time and patience (and a lot of forgiveness) will eventually allow me to heal. I still continue to write when I feel sad or depressed but even my writing is vastly different. Ideas are clearer and more defined. Words have become like lacework weaving in and out of each other. I'm finding my line of best fit.

Poetry is different for everyone, I think. In a film I watched recently called Leaves Of Grass, respectively titled after a collection of poems by Walt Whitman, two characters discuss what makes a real poet stand out amongst the self proclaimed poets and in the end they agree to disagree. In other words, we all have our ideas and opinions about what makes a legit writer. Something I've always wondered myself. What is it that makes you a legit poet? What is it that sets you apart?

I still muse at the thought of building up my collection of poems and attempting publication. The idea is still festering into something despite the nagging voice that still flicks me in the ear every once in a while. Are you legit? Are you worthy? As I grow, so does my understanding of poetry's affect and the volume with which these nagging voices have adopted has lessened greatly.

In conclusion to this long winded mini glimpse into my brain, I would like to leave you readers with this. Know thyself. Find your inner voice and allow it to sing.

Mine:

Untitled

Our hearts coincide,
Tiny vessels, interlaced spider webs cradling the deepest of our souls.
Entwined, like veins; thick...

...Thumping, a beat in tune,
Like the ticking tock of a grandfather clock.
A symphony that embraces a single word on the tip of your tongue, sweet, yet still hinged in the center.

Two souls, raveled around each other.
A distant angst, a far away cry, for a name, unknown, for the sake of having someone to hold onto.

But where are you, my true love, like a dull ache in the root of my bones, I wait.
I wait...


Favorite:

I Carry Your Heart
E. E. Cummings

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

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