Tuesday, June 30, 2009


I have a lot of pictures and  I don't know what to do with them!!.... so, making and sharing slideshows seem like a good idea :) 


Here are the pictures from the LAker Parade :)

OK SO>>>>

My mom just gave me these pictures from about 3 YEARS AGO! lol... So I decided to share them with you :)

As some of you may know...I was home schooled or on "Independent Study" since my 7th Grade year....meaning I did not go to a traditional high school..... I went to City of Angels (indpt. study). 

 most Independent Study schools, (if any) do NOT have sports teams, clubs, dances, and all that other HIgh School stuff... therefore they don't have PROM either! BUT MY AMAZING MOTHER decided to put together a PROM just for ME for my last year in HIGH SCHOOL! it was great! 

We took pictures had a karaoke party for our "after prom" and the whole nine! OUR OWN PERSONAL PROM! 

and this is why my mom is the best :)

Here our some of the pictures...lol.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Just thought I'd share....

Jhene Chilombo

Professor Leonard

English 102

3 June 2007                                                                                    


     “I Shall Paint My Nails Red” by Carole Satyamurti and “The Secretary Chant” by Marge Piercy are two poems that reflect how women can feel unappreciated. These two poems explore the thoughts of  two women who have let their jobs and nail polish define them. In “The Lesson” by Toni Cade Bambara, there is a woman who has benefitted from letting her surroundings define her and there is also a little girl who may or may not benefit from the older women and the lessons she teaches her. I was inspired by these two plays and short story to write a short story of my own about a women who lives a quiet life, but is still as important as any other women, as any other person....

She Is

     She was hard to pick out of a crowd, never the life of any party. She didn't have the the long, flowing hair her mother had or the brains of her father. Breezed through college with As,Bs, and Cs, she never found use for her degree in business.  She was a simple woman with a simple life. No brothers. No sisters. No aunts or uncles. One child. One cat. One deceased husband who she mourned for the first 5 years then proceeded on with her own life. She hardly wore makeup, but when she did it was the same burgundy lipstick and peach,Covergirl blush. The make up didn’t make her look any different. A woman of few words, her handful of friends call her a real class act, but strangers never noticed. She didn’t want recognition or fame for her accomplishments, and she never made me clean my room. She always smelled of lavender and vanilla, but you’d never know unless you got real close to her. When she laughed it was quiet and easy and when she cried there was no sound, just tears. 

     “She was a nice lady” a neighbor says after the pastor invites people up to speak. There would only be two other people after him. A sixty-year-old life and only 10 people at a funeral to say good-bye. Besides myself, most of them were strangers, I’d seen a couple only a few times in my entire life. No one really cried out loud, the service was only 46 minutes. Another life that came and went without many people noticing. Another woman who achieved life, but went without any praise or recognition. I stood before the small crowd and shed only a single tear. “She did not live her life out loud, but that does not mean she was not here. Because of her, I am, and because of me, she is.”

Monday, June 15, 2009


June 16th, 1971
He would have been 38 today...
This is the ONLY man I've ever been and will ever be a stone cold CRAZY FANATIC about.
Not only was Tupac an incredible rapper he was an amazing writer, poet, actor and philanthropist.
Its sorta strange to people when I tell them Mr. Shakur is my #1 inspiration, but in my opinion he is the epitome of an entertainer and activist! He had the charisma to draw you in, the talent to make you listen and the intelligence to teach you a thing or two! !!! 
He was VERY misunderstood, but when you really dig into his career...his poetry....his books... he rivals with Einstein in MY OPINION!!
Worlds cant express how MAD I get when I realize I will never be able to meet him!! BUT I listen to him almost everyday and collect tons of Tupac memorabilia! lol

I can go on and on.... but I will end on this note:
T.H.U.G L.I.F.E !! (The Hate U Give Little Infants Fucks Everyone) !!!

(umm...can I nominate myself to be that person?!! lol)

Thursday, June 11, 2009



Jhene Chilombo

Professor Bailey-Hoffman

English 127

10 September 2008

  Genre Exercise


     The text that I chose to change into another genre is the poem “Life is Fine” by Langston Hughes:


 I went down to the river,

I set down on the bank.

I tried to think but couldn't,

So I jumped in and sank.

I came up once and hollered!

I came up twice and cried!

If that water hadn't a-been so cold

I might've sunk and died.

 But it was      Cold in that water!      It was cold!

I took the elevator

Sixteen floors above the ground.

I thought about my baby

And thought I would jump down.

I stood there and I hollered!

I stood there and I cried!

If it hadn't a-been so high

I might've jumped and died.

  But it was      High up there!      It was high!

So since I'm still here livin',

I guess I will live on.

I could've died for love--

But for livin' I was born

Though you may hear me holler,

And you may see me cry--

I'll be dogged, sweet baby,

If you gonna see me die.

   Life is fine!      Fine as wine!      Life is fine!



I chose to change this poem into a short story with the same title and a similar message.


Life is Fine


        It was very cold that day, even though the sun was shining. Sarah woke up sooner than she had planned. The empty bottle of sleeping pills and Tequila stared her in the face as she opened her eyes. She tried to force herself back to sleep, but the vomit rising in her throat wouldn’t allow it. With all the blinds drawn in her tiny apartment it was impossible to tell what time of day it was. Sarah could care less. “I wonder if I just lay here on my back while I throw up…choke on my own vomit like Jimi Hendrix...maybe that’ll work,” Sarah thought to herself. She chuckled at how crude she could be and the vomit succeeded. The phone rang and she stumbled towards the bathroom. It had probably been ringing all morning. Probably her mother calling to say “Happy Birthday.”


     October 16th, Sarah’s 27th birthday and the day she would have liked to be her death day. “I’ve still got time,” she figured. Sarah looked at the hair dryer and then the tub thinking how poetic it would be to be found that way; lifeless in a warm bubble bath. But it wasn’t “bad ass” enough for her. She always considered herself to be a “bad ass”, a real rebel without a  cause.


     “Why would you give me such a boring name like, Sarah?” she asked her mother once when she was 16. She never thought Sarah was an edgy enough name for her. “Roxanne,” she said out loud as she stood and looked in the mirror, “I should have been a Roxanne.”


      The phone rang again and this time she had a feeling it was him. The same “him” who the night before she’d caught having sex with her best friend. She couldn’t allow herself to answer the phone. She swore she would never be like her mother and let a man like her father run over her and ultimately ruin her entire existence. “They all leave eventually,” Sarah thought to her self the night before as she swallowed the poisons that were to end her so-called misery.  He had been the father she never wanted, but always needed. And she had given in to love, in which she always thought to be a lie.


     The little piece of paper that would have been her last testimony to her family and friends was neatly folded at the end of her bed. Sarah couldn’t understand why her attempt had failed, “A fucking waste of paper,” she said to herself. She opened up the note:


To whom it may concern,

This will be the last time I cry; the last time I put my all into a lie.

I cant take the pain of a love lost…a love never had….the story of my life.



     She laughed out loud. “What a fucking maniac I am!” As she looked down at her ring finger where the engagement ring he had given her had been, she wondered what she had done with it in her drunken state the night before. Her eyes began to tear. In her little apartment with vomit all over her bed spread on her 27th birthday, she was alone. She walked to the kitchen to grab a knife. “I’ve seen this in a movie once…it’s a sure thing,” she thought. Upon opening up the silverware drawer she saw that there were no clean knives. “FUCK!” she screamed. It wasn’t suppose to be this hard to kill yourself. If only she had gotten her firearm license like she had planned, she could have shot herself and went out in true “bad ass” fashion. She had planned on buying a gun, she had planned on getting a skull tattoo on her breast and she had planned on skydiving one day. But Sarah never got around to any of those things. Instead she lead a very safe life. Sarah was just a “Sarah” .Not quite the rebel she thought she was. And maybe that was the reason she was alive today.


     As she lay on the cold kitchen floor she suddenly felt awake. She was alive. She was suppose to be dead today, but she was alive! Her doorbell rang. “Great,” she said. “Happy Birthday my love,” her mother sang, bursting through the door. “Well! It looks like you celebrated early huh?!”  Sarah ran to the toilet to dispose of what would be the last of her vomit. “My dear! Its 3pm! Open these blinds and lets get the day started!” Sarah wiped the throw up from her mouth and sat on the edge of her bed. “Looks like you’ve had a rough night,” her mother laughed. Sarah just looked at her and couldn’t help but smile. She paused for a moment to decide whether or not she’d tell her mom about all that had happened the night before. Perhaps she’d show her the suicide note, or explain what she had been through the previous night. But instead, she smiled and didn’t say a word.


     She stood up to open the blinds as her mother had ordered. Sarah listened as her mother talked loudly about something Sarah was obviously not paying attention to. As she looked out the window she realized, even though it was cold that day…the sun was shining and her life was just fine.


Sunday, June 7, 2009

I LOVE Zoe....


“Look at me. I’m skinny, I have a big nose, no tits and no ass, but in a room full of beautiful women, I would still leave with the most gorgeous guy.”
Couldnt have said it better myself :)

Friday, June 5, 2009

*Note to self*

IT GETS WAAAAY WORSE, before it gets ANY better.

just take a deep breath, bear it...and smile.

we're gonna get through this :)

Sayonara ;)

Thursday, June 4, 2009


I want to smile @ Strangers

and laugh w/ Danger

Befriend and put an end to Anger...

Break the chains,

and chase away Doubt

Run nude around the city and shout...




Its being held captive by 

The thieves of.....


And they want a Ransom

But Im not understandin


in its truest Fashion!

And If you're gonna LOVE

I mean, really, TRULY  LOVE...

than you gotta BE LOVE,



~The Lotus

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

My fellow Genius Pisces said...

"Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted. "

-Albert Einstein
(i LOVE him!)

ok, goodnight 4real this time! :-)

The Chilombos....

We're so Chill



nighty night.



Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Now, I understand...

I'm not a morning person....

I'm not a day person...

and lately

I'm not a night person either

I'm beginning to think...

I'm not a person @ all