speech.

I just came back from watching the DNC coverage @ my client's restaurant. I was completely, utterly moved and blown away by Barack Obama's nomination acceptance speech.

I felt it was fitting that I took a seat next to a kind elderly white woman and Obama supporter to watch this historic oratory, 45 years to the day that MLK made his testimony to America about dreams and unity and brotherhood. As I watched in awe at this charismatic, poignant, and gifted man, I shed 2 tears: one for my father, and one for my grandmother, wishing they were by my side to see theirs and their parents dreams come to fruition--an African-American officially accepting the nomination from a major party to run for president of the United States.

My hands were red from clapping, and I couldn't help but shout out a few "mmm hms" and "exactly"s, wholeheartedly agreeing with his position on energy, economy, and environment. I saw some people in the building not even paying attention, and I just wanted to say "dude, you are MISSING it."

Change.

I can't imagine the next 4 years without this guy in office, and I am going to make it my mission to take the successes I hope to create with my business and support his movement for change. I am regretful that I never met Biggie, never met Barry White, Harold Washington, Sam Cooke, and countless others, but I WILL meet Barack Obama. The honor is too big to not consider.

breathing.

Listening to: Young Jeezy - "My President is Black" from the Recession

Days since last post: 50

One of the biggest issues I was dealing with about writing this blog was that even though I wanted to be open and honest about what was going on in my life, I became reluctant because doing so would possibly disclose discrete information about my clients. I also became VERY busy after my last episode. But I knocked out a ton of work this week, and felt a quick urge to add a second post to this blog, and here it is.

While the abscess receded, and then eventually disappeared, I was spending most of my time between designing and doing my odd jobs in the clubs. Eventually it all came to a head. I didn't feel the money was good enough for me to risk my clients' time, assuming roles that were not parallel with me being a business owner. I also realized the potential it had of confusing my customer base, possibly convincing them that I was employed directly by my clients. At this point, that's a complete "no-no" for me: I'm establishing myself as a full-blooded business owner, self-employed, completely independent. In that sense, for me, there is no gray area.

I was still having fun, though. You mean to tell me there's a rule about not mixing business with pleasure? Yeah right! F' dat. I'm in this to make money and have fun. Not to say that that's all it's about for me. I have a chance to make an impact, to make change. When I'm talking my mom's ear off over the phone, she says nothing while I ramble on and on about how much I'm learning from people who I once thought were untouchable--unknowable--and now they're calling me! asking me my opinion. And I tell her how big Revanew Media can be from seeing how fast it's growing and how well received my work is. Don't get it twisted--a large part of it is me trying to reason to her how it wasn't in vain that I dropped out of college and then left full time employment to take this HUGE risk. I'm determined to prove to her that this was my plan all along, feeling as if I can buy back that time I lost with tangible success.

But I'm wrong. I know I am. Because I'm about to lose my grandfather, someone who was very influential in my perception of how a man should be: classy, worldy, cool, confident. Like Jay-Z said (of course he wasn't the FIRST to say it, but still), "You can pay for school, but you can't buy class." So when my mom's dad had a stroke less than a week after his 90th birthday, I felt like I failed once again, racing this invisible clock trying to show my family back in Chicago that this extended stay down here is worth more than we can collectively imagine. I'm PISSED about it. I lost my father AND my grandmother during this time. The fact that I've been considerably out of touch with grandpa and most of my family really makes me feel pathetic. Before, I was just too embarrassed to discuss my failures with them, and now, I'm too busy to take the time and clue them in on my successes.

Sad thing is, I'm wrong, but I'm not going to stop. I sound like John McCain himself. =\

Entry 1: Abscess

Just when you think you've passed an unsurmountable hurdle, you wake up and you've developed what I like to call the "Pain from Below Hell" in your mouth. That, ladies and gentlemen, is a tooth abscess. And the one I have feels alot worse than this one here looks.

I looked it up on wikipedia. According to them, there's a big ball of puss in my mouth right now. I elected to not leave the house today, for fear of seriously hurting someone. I did manage to get some Taco Hell, after I spent most of the day avoiding any outside contact with my mouth. No nacho supreme this time--just the cheesy fiesta potatoes. Crunchy or soft taco with that number 7? Lady, make it as SOFT as fucking possible.

Now, this being my first blog entry, let me clue you in to somethings.



This is where I'm from. Chi-town. I miss it everyday. The ironic thing is that I worked very hard to get out of that big city, and damn near kicked and screamed to stay where I'm at now--which is here:



Good ole Greensboro. A town full of potential. Six colleges, about a dozen high schools, and 1 Hooters. Let's not forget though--a dozen or more night clubs, one popping up or leaving town every few months.

And that's where I come in. When I first moved here, I was enrolled at North Carolina A&T State University, which was at that time had one of the only accredited HBCU accounting schools in the country.

I dropped out. I'm SURE you saw that coming.

Anyway, I absolutely loved the clubs when I was in college. And then after college, while pursuing a fledgling music career with my mentor and close friend Showdown, spent almost every Saturday there with him, helping carry his crates and turntables.

Then, my club life ceased to exist. Showdown lost gigs, and I, in between jobs for a spell, could not afford to be there anymore.



Three jobs and no girlfriends later, I'm working for myself. I am the owner/operator and lead designer for my new start-up, Revanew Media. And you wouldn't be able to tell from the run down 2000 Honda Civic, or my disastrous living situation, but I am in high demand right now.

So I find myself back in the clubs, every weekend once again. This time, it's business. Hey, you gotta show your clients you're loyal, right? And what better way to show off your work than to introduce yourself to the lady in the black dress next to you, looking at the flyer you designed, and saying, "this is what I do."

Don't get it twisted though. It ain't all just me in the clubs spending up graphics money. Far from it. If they need me to help decorate or run the door or run an errand, that's my position. Maybe when I have several young employees to delegate to, then THEY can do that. But for now, the expenses are high like gas, and I'm not saying no to anything with a dead president's face on it.


So back to this unsurmountable hurdle I just passed. My laptop's hard drive crashed, and all you can hear is "why didn't you have a backup?" Why do people assume your ineptitude without recognizing the circumstances? People do that shit all the time--I can't stand it. They say, "if you're sick, why don't you go to the doctor?" or "why aren't you getting your car serviced every 7,000 miles?" Look, I'm broke lady! How about you pay for my shit, and I will make sure to get a yearly checkup and keep my vehicle in tip-top shape =]

Luckily, a very old but extremely gifted man was able to save my work, and in that, save my career. I actually told one of my clients I was thinking about hanging it up. Shiiiit, I had EVERY right to be scared. If I can't get this thing to fly, I'll be flying back to Chicago, writing my name on the orange juice at my mom's cozy house in North Beverly. Not that I don't love my momma, but at 29+ you do NOT stay with your parents, unless they need you to take care of them. My mom does aerobics--she'll be fine.

Meanwhile, with the laptop back up and running, I'm back logged til the end of the week. Things actually are better now than they were before. I'm working on way more memory, I was more careful about reconfiguring my space, AND I took more orders on that week off than ever--and they were paying up front!

Unlike some other clients, which I will name no names. Follow my current life through this blog, and you'll see I have not only family and friends, but enemies around here, too. And I have a feeling they're going to be popping up more often as I take Revanew Media from an infant to an icon. Right now though, I'm fighting the urge to cut this heathen out of my jaw with a pair of CUTCO scissors.

REVANEW MEDIA

revanewmedia@gmail.com

336.988.7719

www.myspace.com/brianakabiz