There’s been all this talk online that there is too much diversity on TV.
The few scripted dramas that are centered around the lives of brown people are, now, considered #tewmuch.
I like seeing my image on TV.
And it makes me think about the kind of content and images that I crave online.
Sometimes, I’m champagne, and others, I’m Hennessy.*
Specifically, Veuve Clicquot at the Ritz Carlton, for what appears to be an annual gathering for a belated birthday celebration.
I love this city, I hate it sometimes, too. In an effort to keep track of my feelings about the Big Apple during my time here I try my best to chronicle them in a letter to this crazy place. Welcome to Dear New York–a series posted monthly on the anniversary of the date I moved here.
All I needed is a sign, God.
Just a sign.
I plead with God daily about many things. But mostly, just for a sign. That this is the right direction. That this is where He would have me go.
My brother’s girlfriend called me a bougie b*tch.
That isn’t the story here.
Ain’t got sh*t to do with this, but I just thought that I should mention.
“There is a lot of beauty in this city,” Allan said. “As you know, and now, I think you’re getting to see the,” he paused, “coldness of this place.”
When I first was laid off, I doubted who I was a writer, a blogger, and I wasn’t sure what I was doing with this site.
I’ve had a vision for it and now seemed like the perfect time to bring that to life. But was it worth the investment? I just needed a sign.