* Please note the following changes to blackandbipolar.blogspot.com

* Please note: As of July 31st, 2012, I have suspended the self-publishing and promotion of original written content (in consideration of violating personal cyber space with unsolicited postings and over concern for intellectual property rights). However, I will continue to create similar writings on my own as frequently as the opportunity to do so presents itself.

For access to these works simply contact blackandbipolar@blackandbipolar.com without concern for compensation. Also, should you require anything written or otherwise, that you may think is even tangentially aligned with the intent of and identities explored in the blog or my life mission (as outlined in a blog post below of the same name) that you may need for your own personal use and/or reasons, again simply contact blackandbipolar@blackandbipolar.com without concern for compensation.

Be well, my friends.

Gathering Thoughts on the Merits of Hard Work and School.

In the past I'll be the first to admit, I have been the proud owner of a pitiful work ethic whenever it has come to punch-in, punch-out fixed income gigs. I'm talking, a work ethic, or lack thereof, that would make a  tool-breakin', illness-feignin' son of kunta kinte proud. I was never able to see the value of exerting maximum (or even moderate) effort at a job that was nine times out of ten, temporary, or seasonal or had a set end point, at which point I would resume whatever else I had going on in the occupational foreground (typically this was school). Let me hip you to a brief glimpse of my early work history, and some job description/details that you won't see on the old resume.


My first independent contractor job: Caddy, upscale country club. 1996/1997ish. I just remember walking a "loop", 4+ hours for which I was compensated $20 and was forced to endure the brutally racist undertones/history that would have made Bagger Vance cringe. One loop, and I was done.


My first paycheck job: Glorified office monkey, the summer of 1997 after my freshman year of high school (age 15). My grandfather's old friend at the public works commission hooked me up with this job. I made a whopping $5.25 an hour. While the people were friendly, they were much older. Besides, I was young, so I remember being terribly bored out of my mind especially since I was away from the "action."  When I wasn't clockwatching on my way to $100 paychecks each week (which was actually nothing to sneeze at for me at the time), I actually devised a way to make myself pass out in those standard office chairs with the pneumatic height adjustments. I have never been able to do it consistently since, but essentially I remember I would do a seated dip, and hunch my head/neck so my arterry was compressed against on of those clavicle type bones and voila. Instant entertainment, and potential brain damage. In retrospect this wasn't the best way to kill time as it could have killed me, but it helped pass the time.


Second job: Bagger/courtesy clerk, fall of 1997-spring 2008 (age 15-16). Though I thought I made decent money, $8.00/hr + time and a half on Sundays and holidays, for the time, I always did just enough to get by and collect a check. Wasn't rocket science and only required a few hours of my time after school. Still can't ever recall wanting to go in.


Third Job : Retail Clerk, discount department clothing store. Folded and hung clothes. All day. every day. Didn't last more than 4-5 months.


Fourth Job: Movie Theater Usher, summer 2000: When I wasn't getting paid to watch movies, eating unhealthy amounts of "damaged" concessions, and skimming off the top of the charity cup that was passed around (Imma make a charitable contribution to the same foundation one day to make up for the shitty karma) I guess I found time to do some work


fifth Job: Office monkey part deux for the local transit authority. Luckily I worked for a real cool boss and his son was my co-worker. He let us install old nintendo games on an emulator on our office PC's. Zelda (the original was pretty much the extent of my workday).


This list takes me  through my freshman year of USC. Though I'm stopping here to get the meat of the post, you probably see my point. If I were i n HR, I would have never hired me. Fast forward 12 years or so to fall of 2011. Back is against the wall and eviction is being threatened. In the clutch, I landed an interview making a whopping $7.30 an hour at the local grocery store (Kroger, which keep in mind is paying me less than I made 15 years ago, half a lifetime ago). Got the job, and while I put forth some effort, it wasn't exactly what I had promised when I interviewed.


As the inventory specialist it was my job to direct customers to their desired items throughout a massive renovation and remodel. This allowed me the freedom and flexibility to do as I pleased without being micromanaged. This included doing everything from going on smoke breaks as I saw fit, going to Starbucks when I saw fit, walking aimlessly up and down the aisles thinking about what I was gonna buy for dinner as I saw fit, ogling fine customers as I saw fit, and generally ducking mgmt., and anyone else who looked like they could ask me to do something as I saw fit.


I kept my social distance from my co-workers, and while friendly, I'll admit their was some very presumptive and uncharacteristic arrogance probably stemming from externalized frustrations on my part. I figured I was somewhat unique in that I felt like I was working there because I wanted to be, while everyone else had limited options. i didn't want to get brought down by these menial wage earners, so I consciously avoided certain interactions, and wouldn't even set foot in the store on my day off. I can't lie though, they got to me and grew on me. Everyone has a story, and damn near all of my co-workers are ridiculously friendly, polite, and helpful in terms of extending themselves on and off the clock. Even the customers are cool and polite, and I developed relationships with the regulars, to the point where like them, they made choices to spend at Kroger, while they could have gotten better deals financially at a Walmart let's' say. They come back for the relationships. While I believe my time is worth more than $7.35 an hour, Kroger represented stability, financial, social, and otherwise, during a period of great turbulence. I appreciate the investment they made in me, and the chance they gave me, so I decided to actually put forth some effort to reciprocate.


Miraculously, an urgency was created when they cut my hours recently and my "ask me" inventory job was soon to expire. Faced with a decision I talked to all of the decision makers in person about taking more initiative and seeking advancement. I wrote all mgrs. a letter with my resume attached, basically letting it be known that I was hungry and humble and hard-working. Low and behold, they looked out, and gave me 40 hours the next week, albeit on the cleaning crew (if you've never detailed a 78,000 sq. ft. store, with an OCD attention-to-detail having micromanager on your back, I suggest trying it). The next week I was appointed to my current position where I got a extra nickel an hour for a raise, and now that's it's almost been eight months, my PT benefits are about to kick in. I really stepped my effort up and am now friendly with store mgmt, and even a few district execs. Besides, by not pulling my weight, I was doing a disservice to everyone else, my friends/co-workers by making them have to work that much harder to pick up my slack. Hard work. There is no substitute, and it speaks volumes to the character of those who exert themselves everyday. If you're not working hard, you're not working smart. Besides, sometimes, it's not about what you earn, but what you learn.


However, I understand that my ultimate goals are not served nor my strengths served by working at a grocery store. Sad to say, but for the sake of collectingmy thoughts, I have done my best to recreate a cost/benefit analysis that I can refer to, that will motivate me to create and pursue other options ASAP, despite some admittedly strong emotional ties to the store.


Pros of Working at Kroger
1) friends, social network, belonging, identity, almost second home, kick-it/hang out spot
2) stability
3) financial stability
4) blog material
5) huge spike in once atrophied social skills/sociability given the nature of my job
6) gave me a chance to cultivate discipline and practice going hard whereever, increase in work ethic
7) assortment of client-base and co-workers, hugely diverse range across a number of criteria


Cons of Working at Kroger
1) could be doing something else, more far more aligned with my interests and abilities for 25+ hrs a week
2) grossly undercompensated (could make more begging for change)
3) doing disservice to co-workers since i'm always partially preoccupied with things I have to do outside of work. also to mgmt, by having one foot out the door, they could be in tough position to have to retrain someone at my new post.


Pros of not Working at Kroger
1) free to lessen disconnect between goals and actions
2) start developing "SeeFergWrite" writing services program
3) just being grateful for having job for the "time being" can turn into "time passing" (8 months and counting)
4) free up time to create own schedule.


Cons of not working at Kroger
1) no constant contact with friends
2) must create own stability and support
3) find new blog material
4) create own structure


I forgot how exactly to weigh the criteria for the final analysis, something about a four square arrangement, but due to formatting constrictions, I can eyeball this  list and see that the Pros can all be covered by myself regardless of how I go about earning income. Just because I'm not working at the store for 20-30 hrs a week, doesn't mean the relationships would disappear. And if they did, were they really worth much in the first place? Can take those positives from Kroger and pay it forward and invest in myself.


Ideally there should be a minimal/non-existent disconnect b/w who you are at your core and what you do. I've seen such seamless entrepreneurship in action at my first job out of college. It works beautifully, and while I can't think of a viable/feasible way go from A to C, from Kroger to doing something "black and bipolar" related full time, or at least if I can, I can't think of a good way to tweak it and make that transition, I have to look at an intermediate step, which is ok for my purposes, as long as it gets me one step closer to my goal.


SeeFergWrite / Academic and Employment Writing Services is in the making. I can build clientele with the existing co-workers who are students in high school and college as well as at the local CC. .. To be continued as it comes to me.


On goal orientation and execution:


eliminate proxies and get as directly to the end goal as quickly, swiftly as possible. For example, the Master's/Ph.D. in Black Studies  was only a proxy through which I could explore issues that mattered to me. Look at the extraneous steps and procedures as listed below that I would have had to complete just to get to explore my interests via the dissertation and beyond.


The structure, shelter, and security of school is something I once needed to an extent and feared going without. However, as my life coach/guru/friend pointed out you're going to have to graduate and be without that shelter at some point, so if you don't think it's for you, why pretend like it even might be. To resume would add undue pressure to finish under normative time "deadlines" which would realistically be another five years in. During this time, I'd have to worry about the ridiculous reading load/writing output, and financial issues around funding and debt. Then an only then could I be considered for the doctorate, which is a process in and of itself. To be approved (read: ran through a number of hoops by  sadistic superiors in some intellectual hazing ritual of the most twisted order) requires passion, patience, perseverance, and stress tolerance that I don't care to test. In short, this long, circuitous route does not suit my needs or interest in efficiency temporally or financially or in terms of reach/impact. The overly specialized esoterica that is often required, has little practical value for my intents and purposes. 


Publish or perish? Well there is this orange "publish" button on my screen that I'm about to click, pretty much bypassing the dying dinosaur that is the print industry. Guttenberg, we thank ye, but times they have a changed and while you can resist it all you wish, you can't stop progress. How much longer will brick and mortar degrees, not matter how advanced, hold their weight given the meteoric rise of free online education from world-class schools, who offer a the same content just without the same nominal conferment. Other independent sites like khanacamedy.com and iTunes U, for example, pose similar threats to a dated, educational model by democratizing the process. While I truly admire the drive of those whom it suits, as my dear friend reminded me during a particularly poignant conversation during a discussion of my pending and dreaded oral exam, "If they want you to hop on one foot and recite shakespeare backwards, and that's not who you are, what you do, what you are about, or what you see value in, then ... deuces."

Life Mission Defined

I.                 "Off the Rack"

a.       to “be a gift to the world,” as a friend (whom I would credit here, but I am uncertain of her desire to acknowledged in this space) so eloquently reminded me recently.

II.                Slim-fitting

a.       to help as many people as significantly as possible for the rest of my life.

III.             Tailored

a.       to help as many people as significantly as possible for the rest of my life who may be having issues related to minority-ness and/or mental wellness

IV.             Custom

a.       to help as many people as significantly as possible for the rest of my life who may be having issues related to black(male)ness and/or bipolar disorder.

Blog Mission Further Defined

Most simply, the goal of the blog is to share my experiences and any insight gained from them, in hopes that they may help someone else. Most ideally I hope readers irrespective of background (be they of a similar racial and/or mental disposition, indirectly affected by someone who is, or simply curious) find a sense of identification and understanding as well as a source of education and entertainment regarding certain issues. Though my particular collection of experiences is as unique as the next person’s, certain overarching themes are decidedly universal. It is only through an embrace of this universality that myths, misconceptions, misunderstandings, and misery can end as dialogue and healing can begin.

The opportunity to represent this intersection of personhood strikes me as a special privilege. While it is not burdensome by any stretch, it does, as it stands now, entail considerations that I’d like to address so that they may be resolved as quickly and as completely as possible. Certain prevailing stereotypes may be reinforced in the posts below, depending on the perceptive leanings of whomever may be reading while others may just as easily be debunked and discredited. It is not my objective or intention to misrepresent myself or my stories or tilt their presentation in any fashion to either undermine or undergird the politics of representation and/or identity. If those reading these disclosures find them to be half as therapeutic as I do writing them, then my expectations will have been exceeded.

The language will run the gamut including unashamed infusions of ebonics to mildly academic undertones or a combination the two at any given time. The only consistency in my voice/tone lies in its unpredictability as it can be equal parts vulgarity and verbosity or it may favor whichever extreme I feel inclined to employ.

On Womanfriends and Such.

Love is apparently very much in the air. As of this weekend I have now attended two weddings of two dear friends in as many months. Going to back to back weddings helped restore my faith in and desire for a relationship/romance in my own life. Besides the typical fun of seeing old friends and faces at these types of celebrations, it’s hard even for the coldest of hearts, not to be inspired, struck, or at the very least thawed by romantic hope.

However, this was just the tip of the iceberg. In the week leading up to the wedding this past weekend, I heard through the negro gossip network, that my dearest lady, very recently divorced and very far removed from any semblance of intimacy unexpectedly got her groove back in a way that would have made that Stella character batshit jealous.

And just like that, out of the blue, she is back in the game after a decade plus – long drought (I’m being very conservative in my estimation). At first I was shocked, then delighted, and finally inspired to as I have been somewhat resistive, probably abnormally so, towards relationships for what will be three full years come August.

Allow me to explain the layered reasoning, as faulty as it may have been, behind my stubborn resistance, however. For the better part of my late adolescence to early adulthood (from ages 19-27) I was continuously in and out (more time in) of rollercoaster, merry-go-round, revolving door, relationships stemming from the overlapping loves of yesterday. Now we all know how incredibly intense, and typically unhealthily so, young love can be (in fact, studies have shown that the same parts of the brain active during amphetamine use are active during the early stages of such love).

That said for the longest time I associated feelings of true love with a certain type of off-the-bat intensity and dismissed, to a certain extent, anything that did not match up to it as somehow being inauthentic. I figured, instead of wasting a prospect’s time with anything less than head-over-heels infatuation/affection, I would better serve her by allowing her to keep it moving and by doing the same myself. I thought I would have been doing her a disservice by getting involved without feeling a certain way about her, not fully understanding that just because I wasn’t that into her on day one, doesn’t mean that such necessary affection can’t be developed through the course of sustained contact by the end of month one for instance. It’s been my observation though, that while less intense admittedly, the sustained growth and development of a subdued love and affection is more conducive to long-term relational stability. That was roadblock one, the subdued, “this isn’t the real thing.”

Two was the “timing” issue, which upon further inspection was the label I used to mask yet another intrapersonal hang-up. A little while back I heard something like the following: when a woman finds the right man, it’s the right time, and when a man finds the right time, he’ll find the right woman. For the longest, I swore up and down it wasn’t the right time for me, because of x,y, or z. While certainly when reflecting on it issues surrounding instability across the board (financial, mental, geographic, professional, mental, etc.) posed concerns insofar as potential relationships are concerned, the opportunity to meet that special someone can arise, and has arisen, wherever and whenever, even in hospital settings. It was more my preoccupation with and insecurities behind my own desirability, suitability, and what I had (or didn’t have) to offer someone at any given time.

However, my brief stint on okcupid last year was further highlighted this point that there is interest in and those who are willing to work with certain circumstance so long as they are offset and outweighed by other positives, which apparently, I possessed.

I was very open and honest on my cupid profile about everything I didn’t have going on at the time. (No place of my own – I was living at home with my mother and sister and the time, no ride – hello bus pass, no income/money – unless you counted my $200 worth of EBT as assets, I was pretty much flat broke). I also let them know about the manic episode/hospitalization that led me to that circumstance. Yes, before I delved into anything remotely positive about myself, I let them know off the bat about any potential deal-breakers.

I know I would rather be over informed than under, and to err, even on the side of gross initial over disclosure, was to give these women as much possible information so that they could make the most well-informed decision for themselves.

I must admit, another part of it was self-serving as well. My situation as described, and accurately so, was almost a test of their disposition. Another quote, “sometimes we put up walls, just to see who will climb over them.” While I’m no sadist, and would myself much rather have someone open the door for me, than have me toss a grappling hook over a wall to scale it, it was almost like a defense mechanism to an extent. I didn’t want to get involved under false pretenses, or even less than very forthcoming ones only to have a woman, find out a non-negotiable dealbreaker down the line and bounce suddenly and unexpectedly. I didn’t think that would have been cool to have to deal with for either of us.

Even with all of that out in the open, however, I found other reasons to resist. “Oh, I’m living at home and don’t want to commit to someone in the Boston area, because this isn’t where I see myself in the future.”

Through it all, however, I really feel like I made the best decision for myself in waiting so long, as I felt it necessary to detox, and let all of the toxic attachments and energies dissipate fully, before making them someone else’s problem. And despite being single, celibate, and not looking to date, I was almost always qualifying silently, and developing a composite sketch if you will, of my ideal partner. There was a long time in my life where I felt like I needed to be in a relationship, and similarly now, I’m just exiting a season where I felt I needed to be alone. In any case, either extreme need probably isn’t healthy, but I feel more moderately where I can entertain hope for a relationship while remaining entirely comfortable and content without one.

Just like there are the four C’s of diamond buying (cut, color, clarity, and carat for the uninitiated), there are three such C’s I require for the diamond of a woman I desire. In order of importance: 1) character 2) compatibility 3) cute. While I will break down the relative weight and definition of these criteria further at a later time, I understand that this is what I’m looking for, and I will not settle for anything less than what I want. Always choose, never settle.

Doing so would only be doing a disservice to all parties involved, as I learned the hard way. One of the worst things a fellow can do, is waste a woman’s time. Especially a young woman dealing with irreversible, biological time frames.  If you are the least bit uncertain or unsure about your ability and/or desire to commit under the terms you have proposed or implied, then be a fucking gentleman, give her the gift of goodbye (to borrow from late 90’s Oprah speak) and let the lady find someone who isn’t. Very simple. Or at the very least, be open and honest about these doubts, so they she may either work through them with you. If you conceal your any of these uncertainties the truth will 1) reveal itself to both you and her eventually and 2) make you feel even worse than you would have for wasting your time and hers, that is if you have any sense of decency.

And finally there was the physical self-sabotage that kept me off the market. After engorging myself like a gluttonous POS for a solid year at home, I blew up to forty pounds over what I consider my ideal weight range. Besides not looking like myself, I didn’t feel like it. My confidence, appearance-wise, was at an all-time low, so my head was down. When your head is down, women don’t look at you, and even if they had been, I wouldn’t have recognized it. When women don’t look at you your head drops down even further, so the cycle of despair feeds on and exacerbates itself.

Thankfully, however, I pulled it together and am now back on top my game physically, and am again, for the first time in a very long time, putting effort into my appearance (e.g., grooming, dress, self-care etc.) to the point where my head is up and the ladies are showing love (and even though one of my front teeth looks chipped (due to sugar, caffeine, and nicotine dependences that have been all since been addressed) in a Fabolous/mid 90’s Nas type way, it’s almost become part of the look at this point, so I’ve become comfortable with it as opposed to self-conscious about it.

This makes me feel happy and normal again to the point where I do want a woman friend. And even though, I’m notoriously picky and OCDish in my selectivity/criteria, I now realize the self-defeating nature of it all. These once rigid guidelines can be slightly bent if not overridden for the right woman. Again, it feels good to be able to acknowledge that simple desire/need for companionship. Oh and for fucking, too.

Quick digression. As I look at my calendar, it’s now been three years and two months of celibacy. This strikes me as just a tad abnormal. Though I’m no ladies man / Don Juan Demarco by any stretch I have, during the course of this time frame, been lucky enough to have my fair share of opportunities having had women offer passively as well as very boldly as well. It got to the point where I was just happy to look, fantasize, and fuck ‘em with the eyes as the late, great Patrice O’Neal alluded to doing (great clip to come at a later date, if I can ever find it).

Recreational sex has never been appealing to me as I’m someone who prefers committed monogamy to the casual thing. If a meaningless nut is something I crave that badly, I can always, um, take matters into my own hands. Sex without feeling a certain way about the woman involved was never for me, though I’m not knocking those who enjoy it. To each his own. When you’re dealing with potential procreation as a consequence, I’d rather not pretend our actions in the bedroom aren’t without meaning outside of it because if you don’t feel a certain way about her now, you very well could nine months from now.  (Besides, it’s 2012, STD’s are rampant, especially in ATL, and as Uncle Snoop said in ’93: “Ain’t no pussy good enough to get burnt, while I’m up in it.”). It’s crazy to me even, it’s to the point where I’m even over porn. While as recently as a couple of months ago, I specialized in the auto erotic arts and regularly drained comcast’s bandwidth via routine visits to “the hub,” at some undetermined point, the mechanicalness and predictability of it all ruined the appeal.

Guess when you’re 30 as opposed to 13, you’ve pretty much seen all you can see porn-wise. In fact, as of right now I don’t even know if my man parts are in working order, but then again, I have no reason to stress it as I have no means to test them. Hopefully I’ll rise to the occasion and will cross that bridge when I come to it. Hardy har har.

Back to this relationship avoidance thing, though. There was the whole eliminate (sexual) dependence issue. Back in the day, at times, if I didn’t get my, “healing” as prescribed/expected, it sometimes was an issue (this was especially true when doing the long distance thing, when damn near  expected the panties to drop on siht). To avoid all of this, and keep someone from even potentially using sex as a weapon/leverage/bargaining chip (which irritated me to no end), I avoided it all together. Again though, I took it to the extreme, and did so without even realizing it. Case in point, my homegirl at work gave me a hug for the first time a few months ago. Even the physicality of a hug jarred me, as it was very foreign. If the growing field of positive psychology is any indicator, this strangeness was not good since touch is a pro-social behavior amongst all living creatures.

Getting back to it the relationship though. I’m all for it if and only if it’s an excellent, hand-in-glove type fit and it presents an additive, mutual benefit, the likes of which neither of us could have achieved individually. Not forcing a damn thing. While I’m busier than ever these days, you can always, always, always, make time for what’s truly important to you. Though I’m old school, and would prefer to meet someone in person (most likely at work – which is the perfect place for many a reason to be enumerated later) or in the gym or elsewhere, for the time-being, I’ll try my luck on the cupid for one mo’ go round. Why not maximize the odds for success, right?

I’m done with the walls up, the hang-ups, and the excuses. There’s no sense in denying myself a woman friend. If they’re cool with the situation as it stands there’s no sense in denying them either. As with anything, you gotta ask “why not, instead of why?” sometimes.

Birds of a Feather: from the flying, "v" to flying solo.

Entertaining only those persons possessing:

Unassailable character

Unreasonable ambition

Unrelenting work ethic

Unwavering focus

Indomitable will

From this juncture forward, only five out five (again this listing of criteria is far from exhaustive, but rather illustrative) will suffice. Anything less would be to detrimental to my the orientation, development, pursuit, and achievement of certain goals, for which only I am responsible...

Though I’ve been warned against the perils of many a cognitive distortion in my day, I’ll may or may not (leaning towards not) trouble myself with reconsidering, reframing, and restructuring this, "problematic, potentially self-defeating" all-or-nothing thought process at a later time. As of the moment I encourage you all to make it happen or make excuses as your either bound to betterment or bound to bullshit.

Be accountable or be excused.


Get right or get left.

Giving Thanks

A wise man gives credit as a fool takes it. In recognition of this truism, let be begin again as I did before: by giving thanks. First and foremost acknowledgements are in order to recognize those whose actions both indirect and immediate have allowed for an unexpected and at times unforeseeable renaissance of sorts. You kept aglow a light that was dimmed and nearly extinguished by the bleakest of circumstance in the darkest of hours.

Though health is not necessarily a prerequisite for happiness by any measure, the absence of the former often forecasts that of the latter. That said, efforts to encourage my wellness through selfless sacrifice, conscientious consideration, and unconditional love, have not gone unnoticed, unappreciated, let alone forgotten by any stretch. As I look back upon the course of things my own personal frustrations may have too easily been misdirected and projected, externalized at times to bely, however convincingly, the acknowledgement and reciprocation of this love, and for that I all apologies are due.

And that is why I offer my deepest appreciation and sincerest thanks. If yesterday I have thanked you even once for measures either slight or significant then I just as easily thank you today, and even more easily will do so tomorrow given the time for further reflection and recollection of these measures. My gratitude is neither temporary or time-bound but rather insistent and enduring, as I find myself the proud bearer of an enormous debt of gratitude.