Friday, September 29, 2006

Friday Afternoon Tag...

Took this from T. Cas because well, I have nothing else to type about, and it's pretty simple. And besides I'm about to go dope myself up on some painkillers since I've just had a wisdom tooth pulled and that shit is no fucking joke. If I had known that's what the appointment was for, I would have passed.

Now I have the chipmunk cheeks. *sigh*

My plans for Friday are done.

1.Do you try to look hot when you go to the grocery store just in case someone recognizes you from your blog? LOL No, what you see is what you get which is me in sweats, flip flops and nine times out of ten my doo-rag. I might be a little creeped out if I’m in the produce section and someone hollers, “Aye are you Tenacious?”, you know folks thinks my name is a disease. But if you run into me at the club, I am looking probably hot.

2. Are the photos you post Photoshopped or otherwise altered? If I can’t afford to get the good shit that celebs get, then no. All of my pictures are of me and I look exactly like I do in the pictures.

3. Do you like it when creeps or dorks email you? I’m appreciative of all feedback.

4. Do you lie in your blog? I leave out details sometimes *gotta have some type of real personal life you know* but only because I am not comfortable talking about them yet or I am forbidden to go into detail. I don’t lie in person so I don’t do it on my blog. So all the little crazy ass stories and antics are REAL people. I have crazy friends and a dysfuctional family.

5. Are you passive-aggressive in your blog? I don’t think I am, I’m writing straight from the dome.

6. Do you ever threaten to quit writing so people will tell you not to stop? No. I’ll still write even if no one reads, I have to get some of these thoughts out of my head you know.

7. Are you in therapy? If not, should you be? If so, is it helping? My blog is my therapy but I think I should be on someone’s couch telling my life story to someone. Might clear up some things…

8. Do you delete mean comments? Do you fake nice ones? LOL I don’t have the time and energy to “fake anoy” nice shit. And I don’t delete any comments. I say bring them on.

9. Have you ever rubbed one out while reading a blog? “Rubbed one out”? I mean I’ve rubbed out a contact, wiping my eyes from laughing so hard at some peoples’ blog but masturbate to some words? Um no.

10. If your readers knew you in person, would they like you more or like you less? Some would like me some wouldn’t but everyone has been warned. I would think more because you can actually see the craziness in my world more but *shrug* can’t win them all.

11. Do you have a job? Yes. I complain about it every once and awhile.

12. If someone offered you a decent salary to blog full-time without restrictions, would you do it? Was this question really necessary?! Hell yeah!

13. Which bloggers have you met in real life? Funny enough, I’ve only met E so far. Don’t worry Mr. Mack, we will definitely meet up. Honey, I’m down for a HU Homecoming Meeting. And T. Cas…*lol* well some folks seem to think we’ve met up already but sadly nope. Next time I’m in the ATL for more than a few hours ok?

14. Which bloggers have you made out with? Made out with? *snicker*

15. Do you usually act like you have more money or less money than you really have? I don’ talk about money but I have less money because duh I’m always shopping or whinign about paying a bill!

16. Does your family read your blog? No my mother and grandmothers are basically computer illiterate and my father would never ever have an invite to read my blog. But he’ll probably pass out or write a LONG ASS comment in rebuttal to all the things that I have said about him.

17. How old is your blog? Been blogging since February of 2006. Got 130+ *or 200-300 b/c of how long my posts are*

18. Do you get more than 1000 page views per day? Do you care? *lol* Hell no. And Nope.

19. Do you have another secret blog in which you write about being depressed, slutty, or a liar? *lol* I wish. I don’t have the time nor energy to crank out another blog.

20. Have you ever given another blogger money for his/her writing? Like Ghostwriting? *Side Note: Ghost Writer was one of my favorite shows as a kid* But No, bad grammer, english and all…it’s all me.

21. Do you report the money you earn from your blog on your taxes? Damn T where did you get this from: The IRS blog or something?

22. Is blogging narcissistic? For some yes.

23. Do you feel guilty when you don't post for a long time? Actually I do. I feel bad if I don’t write something every day.

24. Do you like John Mayer? What’s his song again? I think there’s one I like.

25. Do you have blog enemies? *LOL* Oh yes I do. I know who they are and trust I can care less. Get in line and take a fucking number. It ain’t that serious.

26. Are you lonely? Sometimes.

27. Why bother? It’s an outlet for me. I like peeking into other folks’ lives.

28. If they were to make a movie of your life, who would play the mailman? *LOL* Um, in my neighborhood it would probably be Keenan Ivory Waynes as the male one and Paula Jai Parker *hoochie mama getup from Friday as the female*.

Thursday, September 28, 2006

Random Train of Thought...

On Tuesday I almost fell down the Rossyln Metro Station escalators laughing because a girl was walking up the escalators like the fake woman alien in Mars Attack. I mean exactly like the fake alien. I guess I was the only one who saw comedy in that. I laughed again when I passed her on the street and she was still walking like that.

I am convinced Starbucks has crack in it. I will be the first to proclaim it, I mean aren’t the beans imported from Columbia? Isn’t Columbia one of the main drug ports in the world? Case closed. Don’t believe me, go check out a Starbucks minutes before opening. They are in line eye twitching, scratching their arms and shit, pacing because the doors are one minute late opening. And once someone has their coffee, this eerily calm expression comes over their face.

I joke with the Muslims at work that while I know Ramadan is a part of their religion, with holidays like Ramadan which translate to “starvation” in my book, I will not be trading in my pork chops any time soon for the Muslim religion. If I fast trust it will not be by choice. It’ll be because I don’t have any food in the fridge and no money to shop or eat out. Well that and the fact that I probably would collapse from hunger.

I am not on that “T. Cas Eat One Small Meal A Day” diet. But from what I am told it’s the first few days that may be hard but it gets easier after that. I felt kind of bad eating all in front of them but then again why are you in the cafeteria during Ramadan?

I need to cut my bangs. They’re starting to get into my eyes and with my vision as bad as it is the last thing I need is something blocking my vision. I’m thinking of cutting my hair again anyway. Now that my hair grows pretty quickly I’m not as freaked out about cutting my hair as before when let an inch more be lopped off, I would be sliding all over the ground wailing like my Aunt at the last family funeral.

I spend too much money in Victoria’s Secret. I am their dream because it doesn’t take much to persuade me to buy something. I went in for body wash, came out with two new bras, some panties, and a T-Shirt. Funny I don’t really wear thongs anymore; it’s all about BOY SHORTS. I only wear a thong when necessary.

The fiancé *I’m really going to think of an alias for him, I’m tired of typing “the fiancé”, “the boyfriend”, “main dick piece” all the time* bought me some sexy lingerie. I think he has an obsession with the “Stripper Store” aka “Frederick’s of Hollywood”. I mean do he not remember the last time I tried to be sexy and do a strip tease for him, um yeah broken lamp and bruised pride. But I was touched by the gesture. It’s a sexy nurse get-up. Not my type off thin but I didn't want to hurt his feelings. Even though I’m like, “Umm what’s with the role playing? Can’t we just take our clothes off and just do it? And shit am I insured? This smells like a Sexual Harassment suit in the making you being the patient and I'm the naughty nurse...what type of clinic is this anyway and what the hell are you in the clinic for in the first place?”

*sigh* Ok so I overanalyze the role playing role to death. Shit I still had fun though ;-)

Whiny Co-Worker has been moping around looking like someone who has lost their puppy. That shit kills me because I didn’t say anything out of spite; shit you asked, I tried to warn you, you asked again, so I told you. End of story as far as I’m concerned. White girls really need to get a grip on reality, I mean this ain’t slavery days and I damn sure ain’t Mamie and you ain’t Scarlett O’Hare! Crying does nothing for me if anything it angers me more. Stop thinking that crying gets you want you want because in my household it just got you another ass whooping and we better be quiet or else we’ll “really get something to cry about”.

Umm like the ass whooping wasn’t worth crying about?

I need to lose five pounds. While I am happy that weight is finally starting to stick to my frame, I don’t want it to turn into unsightly weight mainly belly weight. I guess I’ll just have to work out more and push away from the table.

*sigh* Maybe I should look into this Ramadan thing.

Was I wrong for almost snapping on this white guy who almost stepped on my “still as white as from when they first came out of the box” Jordans? You know how Black folks are when it comes to our shoes. I’ve been a clubs many of nights when the club was shut the fuck down because someone stepped on someone’s brand new pair of Air Ones or Timbs. I mean I know most white people wear their gym shoes until them bitches just fall apart but damn do he know how much them bitches cost the fiancé?

Anger Management classes are in my immediate future.

My mother called and thinks my cousin and I need a sit down. Yeah it’ll be a sit down all right. A “Bitch I Will Knock You The Fuck Down”. I feel bad for rumbling at my grandmother’s house like two bitches on a side street but I am not sorry for beating that ass. I mean the principle was that the bitch knocked my fucking engagement ring down the drain and wasn’t going to say shit because she did the shit on purpose to be nothing other than spiteful. Those are real fucking diamonds! Is this bitch mad?

You know that conversation went into one ear and out the other.

Why the FUCK did the ball on the top of my navel ring fall off this morning in the shower. My fucking 14 caret gold Teddy Bear naval ring that was a birthday gift two years ago from the fiancé. I am so fucking PISSED! That naval ring cost a lot of damn money and now I have to trek out to Springfield Mall to see if I can find another one because that is the only store that has the jewelry store that may have my naval ring.

Damn slithery tongue. Probably loosened up my ring. My weakness is good head.

I’ve met Eclectik in real life. He’s the biggest jerk I have ever met.

Ok well not seriously but he does have jerk moments. Can you believe he lives in my neighborhood, a neighborhood where I am surprised when I see other black folks that do not work in the area? I find that to be really amusing. Then I wonder who else live in my neighborhood that may read my blog. And I shudder. It could be some pervert like the one who live in my building.

But other than being a complete jerk, he’s a great guy. Ladies he’s single and he can cook.

**Edit: Someone was insulted by my description but hey I call it like I see it honey ;-) It's all good I don't write anything that I can't say to your face *lol* You're still cool E *smooch**

But I will talk shit about you E, don’t get it twisted *lol*

Due to some switching around in the schedule, I’m off this weekend. But I’m working Monday through Friday. Oh well. At least it won’t be as bad as the last two weeks.

I went up to my old job yesterday. I was happy to see everyone. I made amends with my old manager. We’re back cool now. We’re joking like we did in the beginning. Ebony & Ivory are back together again *lol*

I need something to do Friday. I have no plans.

Saturday I have a room downtown at the JW where I plan on kicking my feet up and relaxing. I also plan to go out which means I wont have far to stumble.

Was I wrong for flirting outrageously to get a discount? That and my Secret Embrace bra makes me look at least a 32C. And I had on a shirt that emphasized my “cleavage”. I was looking pretty cute yesterday just to hang around the mall.
I found my beloved heart earrings I broke a few months ago.

Do I flirt too much?

I am addicted to Cold Stone’s Berry Lemony smoothie. That is my heroin to my McDonald’s Sweet Tea crack.

I am a jerk sometimes.

But then again I wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t such a jerk.

DRAMA is mad at me once again because I would not take sides in yet another argument. Oh well she’ll get over it.

Why was I wailing like a baby because FH right at this moment is flying over to Iraq. I know this is her second tour and all but what am I doing to do without my best friend until at least December? She tried to crack jokes to make me feel better but I was walking down Crystal Drive sobbing like a damn baby. Folks were staring at me like I was crazy.

I am not a crier but when I do cry I lay on the waterworks.

*sigh* My bitch has left the building. Shit the fucking country.

*sigh* So I’m a little depressed right about now.

I told her I need all of her pieces for my wedding so be careful. And negotiate. And shit find Osama while you’re over there so folks can shut the fuck up about his ass. Although I know he’s chilling in Miami selling 79 cent RC cola in the local “hood” grocery store.

You know they all look alike in the turbans *just like Asians and some white people*. And NO I'm not wrong for saying that because you were probably thinking the same thing. And NO ALL Black people do not look alike! Shit I almost crapped on myself the other when a couple of them got on the elevator with me. I’m like, “Osama…Nigga is that you?!”

Naw let me stop. Bitch would’ve sliced and diced her way off that damn elevator.

I was at work and why did I check in a guy with alien eyes? I am not lying. You know how when the aliens take over folks’ bodies their eyes are really huge and dark and the pupil is bigger than normal? I swear his eyes looked like that. Creeped me the fuck out. I think he could hear my thought because he kind of laughed to himself.

Okk I’ve been watching a little too much X Files

But he really did look creepy. He probably was an alien.

Ok I need to get some business.

Monday, September 25, 2006

Drama At The Workplace....

What can I say about the past week other than I was beat like a dead horse.

As of today *Monday* I have been working eight days straight. I have been working from last Monday and will be working until Tuesday with no break. If one more person had asked me “Did I go home” or “Am I still working” I would have killed someone.

And blame it on lack of sleep.

I have never been this tired in my life. Not even in college when I would stay up all night typing that eight page paper that’s due at 9 and its 4 am and I only have a paragraph. And not to mention I actually have to read the book that I’m writing about, well, at least Spark Note it or something.

Come to think of it I received higher grades on the papers that I BSed than the ones that I actually wrote well before the due date.

Every night I have been going home and slipping into a deep sleep that's borderline coma only to be woken by the alarm clock either early in the morning or late in the afternoon. I have literally been sleeping until noon on the days that I do not have to be at work until 2 and rushing out the door with only minutes to spare.

If it wasn’t for my drug aka McDonald’s Sweet Tea and my sunflower seeds I would have killed someone at work.

Folks at the job have been tripping ever since we had a meeting Thursday that allowed people to “air out” grievances to the GM about other associates. And of course some people took this as an opportunity to be spiteful and mean spirited about other associates. I didn’t say much because the few people that I do have a problem with knows I have a problem with them so it was no need to put it on blast.

One is stinky girl who just needs to take a fucking bath and slap on some deodorant before she walks out the house. Damn that cultural shit! I don’t know one culture where it’s cool to be stinky. Shit “cleanliness is next to godliness” the last time I checked. So bitch wash your ass. Too damn grown to be smelling like outside every day of the week.

The other is another manager whom has done a complete 360 from the sweet, quiet little White Girl that she was when she first started working there. She has seriously been thinking that she is Queen Sheba or something. And we are her loyal subjects who should do her biddings no questions asked. And throws a “White Girl Hissy Fit” *meaning a lot of stomping around and crying at her desk or in the washroom* until someone feels sorry for her and do as she asked.

Well the other WGs fall for that. You know the Black folks just look at her like she’s crazy and roll their eyes. Tears don’t sway me honey. Leave that fake crying on the stage where it belongs.

Take the other day for example. Everyone in the Front Office decided to order pizza to avoid the slop that was being served in the cafeteria. We decided to go in for a couple of pizza with everyone splitting the costs of the pizzas. When approached she said ok but she wanted a Meat Lovers pizza. No one else wanted it so one of the girls told her that we would order the pizza but since no one wanted any of her pizza she was responsible for her own pizza price. This made sense since all of the pizza we ordered was of the standard cheese, pepperoni, and sausage kind meaning that at least four people would be eating from each pizza and no one but her from the one she wanted. And no one wanted all types of meat on their pizza.

So she called herself copping an attitude and demanded, not asked, that everyone chip in to pay for her pizza. Her justification was that since we were all getting pizza, if we split it technically we would all be paying just a dollar more than what we were already paying. But we said “No” mainly because we didn’t like the way she said it and was she not listening? No one would be eating from that pizza but her and I’ll be damn if I put in on something that I’m not eating.

So naturally she threw a fit and stomped outside to cry. Ask us did we lose any sleep AND we enjoyed our pizza.

Now I’m not one to claim that I do my job better than anyone else because then that would be a damn lie. I’m good at what I do but there are those days that I could give a damn about my job and I watch the clock until it is time for me to get off. But I rarely make mistakes on my job because I know what the hell I am doing.

Can I say the same for her?

Bitch always make mistakes and then try to blame everyone else for the mistake. Get caught up in her lies all the time because it took a while for her to know that anytime you mess with a guest’s account your employee number is written all over that bad boy. And even then she tried to lie talking about “some body must have been using her number.”

Oh you mean that number that has your own personal user name and password? Some body must have been hacking into the accounts huh? Just admit when you’re wrong and move on.

Not to mention she has a nasty attitude. She’s one of those people who you can tell what they’re thinking and feeling just by looking at her face. I know everyone has their bad days but don’t bring your relationship problems to work. I mean it’s bad enough when she spends half the shift caking with her boyfriend but when they get into a spat she is really on the warpath.

Another reason why I could never do the long distance thing. He lives in Richmond and apparently he drives up every weekend to be with her. Shit let that had been a Black man…”shit baby do you know how much gas is? How many miles I’m putting on my car? I’ll holla…”

*lol* Ok maybe not every Black man…

Everyone jokes that he must not be laying the smack down in the bedroom every weekend because Mondays she’s grouchy as hell. I mean if I was faithful in a long distance relationship and I wasn’t getting my back blown out every time I see my man then we would not be together. And the killing part is he’s a cute little white boy.

I mean he’s not a Justin but he could pass for an American Eagle model on a good day.

I feel sorry for him though sometimes he comes to pick her up and he just be looking like a sad ass golden retriever.

Knowing her she’s one of those white girls who are in a four year relationship and she hasn’t done the “do” with her boyfriend yet put her mouth on every part of his body but refuses to give up the cooch. Those types of white girls are a riot because it’s no way in hell I’m going to be with a man for three or four years and I haven’t sampled the merchandise.

Yeah I would have been one of those broads that were stoned to death in biblical times. Shit I can’t go more than a week or two without sex let alone a couple of years. Coochie would have Charlotte’s Web all through that bad boy. Spelling out “Help Me”. While I give props to folks who have manage to go through long periods of no sex due to a personal choice, once again, could not be me. I would be mad grouchy.

Saturday I was already grouchy because I had to be in at work so I wasn’t really in the mood for her crap that day. We had already had our meeting and since word flies around like crazy I knew she found out what folks said about her especially one guy who can’t stands her and went on an anger induced rant for close to 10 minutes about her. I didn’t know why she was copping it with me because I didn’t say anything bad about her but yet she was giving everyone the cold shoulder and I’m not one to kiss folks asses so I just ignored her most of the night.

Finally at the end of the night she *fake thinking aloud* asks, “I wonder why no one likes me” and went into this “Oh woe is me, cry me a river" monologue.

So you know me, I was just staring at her like she was crazy. I mean shit you know why folks don’t like you so don’t try to play buddy buddy with me so you can get dirt on other people.

So she’s doing the “sigh” thing and I’m just going on typing, trying to complete my share of the paperwork before my shift is over. I guess I’m not giving her the reaction she wants so she did the worst thing possible: Asked me did I like her and if I didn’t why not and please be honest.


Why is it when people tell me that they never want my honest opinion? And I can’t help but be honest because for the most part I am an honest person. I don’t like liars so I try to lie as little as possible.

So I’m avoiding the question and I even told her flat out you don’t really want my honest opinion and don’t ask me to unleash Pandora’s Box on your ass. That’s the thing about being callous; I just don’t give a fuck. I can dish it out and take it.

So I told her. Speaking from my own personal opinion because I’m not going to speak for every one else I let her know my own personal problems with her namely her laziness, her stank ass attitude, this retarded ass look that she gets on her face when she thinks no one is looking, her random crying fits that sways no one, and the fact that she tries to exert a “do as I say and not as I do” motto over people when she really should practice what the fuck she preaches. I mean don’t get pissed now because folks are taking long lunch breaks you should have nipped that shit in the bud a long time ago but don’t try to do it now that you’ve gotten yelled at yourself for your own obnoxiously long lunch breaks.

I also told her how I don’t like how she stands real close to me and stands behind me. I hate for anyone to stand behind me, I keep telling people I am paranoid and reflex is to throat chop a muthafucker because I don’t like for people to be behind me. And why the fuck are you standing behind me all the time anyway? I mean sometimes she be so close on me I feel her breathe on my neck…and that’s too close man. Shit be looking straight creepy and lesbian like. I mean what is she sniffing my hair or something? Looking for places to stick the knife…what? I just don’t know. And stay the fuck off my computer! Stop reading over my shoulder, it’s irritating and rude. Do I be all up in your emails? No so stay the hell out of mine! I’ll walk away and just catch her staring at my work documents looking all guilty because I know she pulled the screen up. All up in my IMs and shit. Just nosy as fuck. I had to tell her a few times curiosity killed the cat. Of course she’s looking all clueless and I had to break it down. I mean damn get a life! She’ll see me typing and hot tail it over to my computer to lurk around.

There is only one Diva at this job and it is I.

With a stiff little smile she thanked me for being honest and promptly went in the bathroom to cry.

And I did not care one bit. Suck that shit up and stop crying like a fucking baby all the time. Can dish the shit out but can’t take it when it’s dished back to her.

So she has been avoiding me like the plague since Saturday which is fine by me.

Looking pitiful and shit. Oh cry me a river.

But I still have one more day until I have a break from work. Let’s see if I can survive until Wednesday. I think I’m going to hit up Starbucks tomorrow. I’m having a sudden craving for it.

How was everyone’s weekend? Anything new and exciting happen?

Sunday, September 24, 2006

The Shit Has Hit The Fan....Pt 2

My aunt all but threatened bodily harm if I did not show up at my grandmother’s house for the family fish fry as if I wasn’t going to attend. My granmother’s catfish, candied yams, and cabbage *I hate greens* was enough to have my greedy ass over there ready to max. I love my grandmother’s cabbage. I could eat it all day everyday and everyone knows that I hate greens with a passion *thus calling my Blackness into question* so someone always make a little bit of cabbage for me.

I know I’m spoiled right? Have my own personal little dishes and shit.

There was no mac and cheese *I was a little salty about that* but there was plenty of my grandmother’s chocolate bun cake.

Of course I’m impatiently waiting for the food. Why the hell do folks tell you to come over and they’re just putting the shit on to cook? Don’t they know I get angry when I don’t eat?

My uncle is currently living with my grandmother due to the fact that he is divorcing “she whom is not named” due to irreconcilable differences. Meaning the bitch was crazy. Damn and not even a year. Their anniversary was Saturday and originally the party was for that but um yeah my peoples are not passing up an opportunity to eat and talk shit about each other.

Talking about we’re celebrating Labor Day.


Wasn’t that two weeks ago though? That was lost on the family though, even though most of them were off of work that Monday.


Only my family.

Oh yeah and I got chewed out for wearing white shoes after Labor Day. Oh but they could remember that shit though huh. And they were damn flat sandals! I call them my Moses sandals because they’re the lace up Gladiator style.

But then again I’m always getting chewed out because I don’t always wear stockings with my dresses *in the summer that’s a Hell No*, I don’t wear slips, I refuse to wear my hair up with a long dress *long dress-up, short dress-down* and I wear my do-rag everywhere.

Now my cousin showed up when the food was ready *of course* and we didn’t say much to each other. We were playing with the babies and I was trying in vain to take down my little cousin’s hair but she was bawling her head off. I couldn’t help if her mother put in these little Coolio braids that I needed a magnifying glass to unravel.

Earlier in the day my aunt popped over to give us a ride to my grandmother’s and since she was rushing me I decided to just grab some clothes and shower and change at my grandmother’s since she was acting as if the food was ready or something.

My brother didn’t want to come until later so I took my niece with me. Packed up the diaper bag and we were on the go.

Everything was fine. Everyone’s eating and laughing, for once a brawl hasn’t erupted over a piece of chicken.

One of my cousins asked to see my engagement ring since I acted like I couldn’t tell anyone I was engaged. Um you were there when I announced it the last time I went home. I mean excuse me if I’m not the girl who flashes her ring in everyone’s face and talk about it every five seconds. It’s just not that big of a deal to me and my wedding is still over a year and a half away.

I’m assuming my wedding is the topic of the family considering at this point I’m not knocked up already with his child and someone wants to marry my little evil ass *my mother’s words*

Naturally the ring was off my finger.

It was only off because I don’t sleep or shower in jewelry. I took it off to shower otherwise the ring is prominently on my finger. Ok I’ve left out the house with it a few times and the cat scooted it under the bed once or twice but hey I do wear it!

Once again chastisement because apparently I’m never supposed to take my ring off.

The last place I remember having it on was in the bathroom right before I hopped into the shower.

It’s neither on the counter nor the floor.

I check my grandmother’s room where I changed my clothes. Not on the dressers, bed, or floor.

Now if one of my crack head relatives were in attendance I would be worried because that means my shit is gone and was half smoked up by then. I thought someone moved it or put it in my grandmother’s jewelry case so I went back in her room and looked through her jewelry boxes.

Still no ring.

Now I’m starting to get pissed because I hate when folks touch shit that doesn’t belong to them and of course folks are playing dumb. So I asked again.
This time my cousin spoke up…”Oh yeah it might have went down the drain. I mean I heard some clink but I didn’t know what it was so I kept it moving…”
And I saw the bitch smirk.

So I snapped.

Forgetting where I was *hard to believe I never curse around my family* I just fucking snapped. I called this bitch every thing but a fucking child of God because I just know this bitch did not drop my fucking ring down the drain. And knowing her the bitch did the shit on purpose.

Bitch get gully and hops the fuck off. So we square off. I’m yanking off the earrings and kicking off the flip flops. Of course one of the cousins run to the next room *like he really needed to folks were breaking their neck to run into the living room* telling the adults we’re about to box.

Seeing she has a real audience she tries to pull the whiny “Oh how was I suppose to know it was her engagement ring, it was an accident and I’m just flipping on her for no reason” type of speech to the family but fuck that. It’s time to show my black ass.

My uncle grabs some tools and takes apart the shit. Stupid bitch didn’t turn on the water so it’s sitting in the bottom of the pipe. To the family the beef is resolved because the ring has been recovered. But damn that she has had an ass whooping coming for the longest.

When she makes a flip remark, something like I shouldn’t leave shit around if I don’t expect it to get lost, I pop her ass. And it’s on. Straight cat fight. Just because the broad has a good 100+ pounds on me don’t mean shit. We’re in there boxing like men. And this coming from me who hasn’t had a fist fight since high school. And I know she can’t fight. You figure a big girl has some type of advance but no. She did pop me in my face two times though. I came away with a few of her micros in my hand. And she was bleeding due to the cuts my ring put on her face.

But don't ever get it twisted I know how to fight. Shit you damn near had to to survive in my neighborhood. And besides I was fueled by anger.

We get broken apart * a lot of struggle and chaos* of course she’s crying because “I attacked her” but bitch don’t play with me. I felt semi-bad for brawling all up in my grandmother's house but don't play with me and my shit. I will slice a bitch for fucking with my shit. And that was a warning for any other mother fucker in my family, just because I don't fight as much as they do doesn't mean that you're just going to beat my ass. Don't get it twisted now. My fiance and I wrestle all the time at home so don't think a bigger person is just going to get me down.

I’m still heated and I refuse to stay in the same house with her because I will go to the kitchen get a knife and slice her ass so I call my fiancé. No answer from his cell. Call my best friend, she’s at work. I call LIGHT BRIGHT . He comes in 15 minutes.

I rant to him for close to an hour. I’m still fuming while watching the fight on HBO. I’m pissed all the way back home. I’m pissed when my mother comes home and fuss at me for close to 2 hours. I’m mad when I go to sleep.

I make it to O’Hare with enough time to spare for a change. I don’t sleep well when I’m angry so I was knocked out as soon as I sat down. My fiancé was flying out on a later flight from Midway so I make it home before him. Apartment is spotless, I was surprised. Crawl in the bed and sleep for a hot minute.

Then back to the trenches of my job Monday. Work kicked my ass this week and will kick my ass next week considering I am working nights until Tuesday. This means nine days of straight working with no breaks.

I’ve been neglecting the blog because I have been on autopilot all week. I’m sorry guys it took this damn long to finish my trip. I’m only a week late.

I promise to be back to my regularly scheduled craziness this week. I have to tell you about yet another co-worker who I had to school for a quick second.

The Shit Has Hit The Fan....Pt 1

Thursday is when everything went haywire.

My Thursday started off nice enough. I work up early so I could get to the shop early to get my hair done because I was not trying to spend the entire day in the hair shop. And besides my hair was looking like Sophia’s from The Color Purple. I was expecting Squeak to pop around the corner asking, “Harpo…Who dis woman?”

Ok I’m exaggerating. It wasn’t looking that bad but wearing ponytails makes me look younger than I really am. And besides I am trying to break out of wearing ponytails every time I’m too lazy to go to the shop.

Ummm yeah…I got in at 11. Did not leave the shop until close to 4 pm.

Of course it was the variety shop where a little bit of everything goes. Just a bunch of women *and of course the token gay male stylist* gossiping, eating, doing hair and basically giving her *and his* opinion on basically everything such as:

Halle Berry is probably not good in bed and she’s probably one of those dinky broads who deserve to get hit.

She also looks like she has stalker tendencies.

Mary J Blige’s husband is cheating on her. But Mary isn’t happy unless she’s miserable anyway.

All Rappers wives are dumb as hell, they know their husbands have slept with Super Head so stop fronting.

Videos are so over rated ever since BET Uncut went off the air.

Everyone wants to be Jamaican all of a sudden.

And just a whole bunch of other randomness even though the argument/almost fist fight over who was the prettiest girl in the house on Flavor of Love almost killed me. According to consensus, “Beautiful” was the prettiest until she was booted, now it’s “Krazy” followed by “Bootz” who reminded one girl of a chick she went to high school with and come to think of it maybe they’re the same person and wouldn’t that be funny?

*Um no*

What finally did me in was the transvestite hair dresser who took his/her wig off and proceeded to braid some little effeminate dude hair with more lisp than a little bit and a sashay that would make Naomi whack him with a cell phone. I’m dozing under the dryer and I spot him/her putting crimps *yes don’t say it I was like Who the hell rocks 1992 crimps today?” and I will admit he/she was doing the damn thing.
Until he/she took his/her falsies out and set them next to the curlers talking about the tape was making his breasts itch.
And no one batted an eye but me.

I took a picture and everything but oh course my phone decided to crash and went back to the factory setting.

He sure was raw though I will give him that. If the face wasn’t so hard looking he could have passed for a pretty decent female. But of course when you keep your gear and hair tight that automatically boosts up your “cute” factor just a smig. Face could look you got bust in the face with a bag of nickels but if you keep yourself up you could either be moved up to “aiight” or “he/she is ugly but…[insert nice feature]”

After finally dragging my ass out of the salon, hair nice and bouncy, I head home only to come home to chaos. My intentions were to grab my bag and head out the door to the hotel because my fiancé flight was due in at 7:30 at Midway and already it was after five. But my mother wanted to run a few errands with her and like she tends to do she tends to give out an obnoxious amount of directions and instruction. I wanted to scream BITCH I know how to pick out a relaxer and get some stamps from the Currency Exchange!

And then I was on the phone arguing with a customer service representative who tried to tell me my Smart Card did not have any money on it which was a damn lie because anytime the amount on the card goes under $10 it automatically charges my credit card $10. And I knew this by looking up my Smart Card account on line.
That took close to a half hour to sort out.

Then I had to snap on LIGHT BRIGHT right quick because his face was tight because I was going to the hotel to be with my fiancé. We’re cool and all but last time I checked we were not fucking. So why are you getting mad? It’s not like we had plans or anything and if we did, my man comes first. Upset because we had plans for Friday. Um yeah today’s Thursday and like I said I’ll do what I want.

He’s starting to get really possessive and I don’t like that shit. I don’t like it at all. I don’t like for people to ask me 90 million questions about what I’m doing and who I’m with. I felt like it was a Law & Order: CI episode and shit.
He had thoroughly pissed me off so he met the dial tone and I refused to answer his calls or texts the entire night. You ain’t my man and I ain’t your chick.
We had a blast Thursday. I met him at the airport looking glossy and fine. Checked into the hotel and went out to eat at a restaurant near the hotel. I see the little punk every day but I missed him. I was surprised by how much I missed him.
Damn we’re some cakes now! We’re hugging and kissing in the airport like some lames.

*disgusted sigh*

Let’s just say I had a good time in that hotel room.

*wink wink*

We got to the hotel room and I realized I left my charger at home so guess whose battery died and I was left without my cell phone?
I was too pissed. What the hell am I supposed to do without my cell phone? That damn phone is an extension of me! Who the hell was I going to text to?
And besides I don’t like being without my phone.
Friday I went out with my godson’s mother and we went to Bar Louie’s where we got toasted. I haven’t been to Bar Louie’s for a minute so I was excited to go. The scene was a little too professional for my taste but I still had a great time.

Stumbled home and was in a deep sleep when the fiancé called me and asked did I want to come over to his place…like old times. I mean it was booty call hours *lol*
And I did have liquor in my system….*lol*

Saturday is when some bullshit popped off.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

The Calm Before The Storm....

Monday I had a nice little discussion with my father. Well it wasn’t nice but I did get some things off of my chest. I guess it had really been a while since I let him have it but we came to an understanding. Rather than go into an anger induced rant about it because I was really angry when I told him all this thus it was the truth

*You always tell the truth when you’re drunk or angry…well at least I do*

The meat of the conversation was basically that he has missed out on raising me so stop trying to act like a father more so now than when I was a child because I’m already set in my convictions about him. I also had to let him know to stop acting like he knows me when he doesn’t know shit about me. I brought up some shit from the past, just because you pay child support does not make you Father of the Year so stop bragging about you paying child support like you deserve an award. Also dumping me off at your mother’s once a month and for week in the summer does make you a candidate either. What’s the purpose of dragging me away from my mother, with me throwing temper tantrums, refusing to eat, and crying spells when all he would do is drop me off at his mother’s where I would see him a total of 2 times the entire weekend and for less than an hour both times. That does not constitute as “spending time” either. The only reason I think he even stopped by were to feed his dogs whom he spent more time with than me. I would get a pat on the head, “be good” and he was back out in the streets. And had the nerve to grumble when he had to take me to my Saturday activities *I was in a bowling league as well as several “academic” programs thanks to my mother who did not want me to miss any opportunity to learn something new*. Had the nerve to twist his lip up and say I should miss my obligations because they imposed on “his” time. What a fucking riot. I think he was jealous because he would come to pick me up, see me laughing and giggling with my friends, only for me to throw a temper tantrum and cry when he came to pick me up. My “non eating” skills worked until my mother told him to stop bringing me back because that’s what I wanted and he should be firm with me. Shit I don’t want to eat, shit then I don’t eat. I’ll eat eventually. See what a traitor my mother was?
He’s the reason I hate birthday parties and have refused to have a party since I was 10 due to the fact he made me miss my 10th birthday party. Very petty but it was a special birthday for me with my mother and aunt going all out for it **majority of our birthday falls in May within days of one another so it was tradition to have a “group” party with the party given on someone’s birthday every year. That year it was my birthday that the party was falling on so I was excited that I would actually celebrate my birthday, on well my birthday, and it was a bowling party complete with a magic show, clowns, and lots of games. He fucked that whole day up for me and to this day I am bitter about the shit and refused to attend any parties after that. And for his dumb ass wedding that I did not want to be apart of.

Ok wait I’m ranting, I’ll save this discussion for another time. But I let him have it *once again the last time I really really let him have it was my Senior year in High School* and while he didn’t like what I had to say he had no choice but to accept it. So right now we’re at a truce.

FH, TWIN and I went up to our high school and nothing much has changed. A lot of our teachers are gone with only a few hanging around and they were all very happy to see us. I mean we were in the Top 10 all four years of high school with me as the Class of 2001 Valedictorian. Ah when I had hopes and dreams of being a pediatrician.

It was nice roaming our old stomping grounds though. Back when folks used to box underneath the stairwell, when we had two or three lockers in all the Houses, running late to class hell skipping class, the metal detectors that rarely worked. Purposely going to in-house detention to avoid taking a test. Going to each other’s lunch periods. Playing spades and dominoes in the cafeteria. Hell doing homework during lunch just so I wouldn’t have to take it home, hell getting to school early to finish and trading off answers before class started. After freshman year, I kid you not, I did not take home homework. I finished it before the end of the day and I never studied for anything.

Probably why I was so lost and clueless Freshman year of college.

Of course every teacher that remembers us asked did we have children and were stunned to find out we did not have one child. *sigh* Inner city high schools for ya. I mean I saw a few of the freshman waddling through the hall ready to give birth any day now. I was surprised that there were more white teachers as well. I remember there being a total of 5 when I was in high school but every other class room we peeked in had a white teacher.

Teach for America I’m sure. And I know they burned rubber getting the hell out the neighborhood when the bell rang. Shit they ain’t crazy. Funny I applied for Teach for America but I guess I was too “militant” in my thinking on reforming schools.
I promised to invite them to my pending date wedding because well, I did like majority of my teachers in high school. Maybe because they let me get away with bloody murder because I was the top student in school. I mean I could do no wrong right ;-)

When we got too bored of the school and the curious looks because we were roaming around without uniforms, we hit up Sunrise on 103rd for some good old Pizza Puffs. We also played “Where Are They Now?” with our classmates and relieved old high school memories.

I had fun in high school actually. Sure my freshman year I wore dorky glasses, was thin as a rail, and had unruly hair *ok well that part is still true* but I had a smart mouth and I would like to say my sense of humor kept me from being too self-conscious.

One of these days I’ll post a picture of me. Promise yall won’t laugh.

TWIN was leaving that night so we hung out for a little while more and dropped her off.

I came home and laid around the house. My Monday was pretty boring and plus the weather sucked. Yeah Saturday night the weather took a typical Chicago turn for the worst. While I did pack a few pair of jeans, I didn’t pack nearly enough T-Shirts, no socks, and a thin ass jacket.

So naturally I caught a cold.

Tuesday I was laid up half the day sick as a dog. Nose running, eyes red and scratchy, whooping cough. I was looking like I had the plague or something. I stopped for a quick second to my grandmother’s house where we had a fantastic talk about life. She heard via my father what I said to him and she said she had no idea I was that unhappy. She knew as a child I did not like being around him but she just assumed it was because I had to get “used” to him. I never had a problem with her or my aunt, on the contrary, I loved being around them. I was a little bored and lonely because it wasn’t many kids on her block but she kept me entertained with books. Of course the “sweet” me was always on.

I left before I infected my grandmother with some direly virus.

My niece had the sniffles as well so guess who baby sat Tuesday and Wednesday? The argument: We both were sick together so why not quarantine us together before we are taken to the pasture and shot?

And of course asking me anything when I’m half sleep also was an argument. I apparently agreed when I was rudely woken out of my sleep. Shit I’ll agree to anything for someone to leave me the hell alone while I’m snoozing.

It wasn’t that bad though I mean she’s not a fussy baby. She slept a lot of the time. Very few cut ups. I think she suffers from the “Itis” to be honest with you. She falls asleep after every meal and she does that cute little thing where she is obviously falling asleep during the feeding but she’s still trying to fight it and suckle the bottle at the same time. Little mouth was trying to suck the bottle while she’s trying to fight her nap.

That little thing just melts my heart.

And since her Aunt has the “Itis” as well, it worked out for the both of us.

I still thought it was cute when she was licking the phone while I was on speaker phone with Mr. Mack. Family bugging the hell out of me I mean damn didn’t they see that I was on the phone? That’s how I was suckered into Wednesday, my mother was hollering something and I just said, “Ok”. Woke up to an empty house. Brother and his baby mama had slid out the door early, her to work and him well who knows. Damn sure wasn’t school or a job.

It was pouring down Wednesday for most of the day so we spent the days indoors. Me working like a slave cleaning up the place because lord knows shit would not get done fucking around with my brother. Basically like old times at home where I would clean the entire house only for him to track muddy water on the floor, an argument, and door slams.

And I was watching the niece.

I don’t see how folks do it. I spoil her so she would whine when I would put her down, which naturally I would pick her back up so I’m washing dishes with a baby on my hip, still sniffing and sneezing, and trying to watch TV all at the same time. I know I was looking beat the fuck up Wednesday. I probably looked 35.

Did I mention I also was watching my 3 going on 25 honorary niece? That little girl is too fucking grown for her own good. She’s not sassy *ok well sometimes she is and I had to pop her in her lip for saying too adult things* but the things that comes out of her mouth that I don’t think she really understands what she is saying is too damn grown! She repeats everything she hears and she mimics the adults around her so she has “grown” conversations with her Barbies. She should not be telling Ken he’s trifling because “he’s not taking care of his responsibilities and she’s can’t raise the baby by herself and who do he think he is? He ain’t her man anymore so he doesn’t have a right to tell her who and what she can see and do.”

I kid you not she said all that.

I had to go in the room because I swear I thought she was talking to someone for real. I mean I got a nice chuckle out of it *you know I’ll laugh at anything* because I was just in the doorway listening to her but still…she’s three years old! And I can tell she gets that from her mother and her friends, they’re always out in front of the house gossiping. She had a few more “adult” things but I had to stop her and tell her little girls don’t talk like that.

Boy I tell you children nowadays.

You know she was my mini-remote too right? She’s also at that age where she’s eager to please and is willing to do anything to prove she’s a “big girl”. Shit I’m going to have her washing dishes and ironing clothes before the year is out. Oh to be young and dumb like that again *yeah right*. I remember when I was so geeked to wash dishes. I know, dumb right?

My fiancé was actually coming in town that Thursday so I made some plans for Thursday for us to get a room and spend some time together. I know he was going to disappear with his buddies the weekend but we still had yet to go around as an “engaged” couple and do the family thing. I have done it but folks actually want to see the man as well.

Working for a hotel does have its benefits though, mainly the great discounts. I was a little pissed because I managed to get a room at the Renaissance Downtown on Michigan *AKA The Magnificent Mile* because I thought he was flying in at O’Hare but he was actually flying in at Midway and did not want to travel all the way downtown *or pay the parking fee* so I had to cancel that reservation *sob* and get one closer to Midway.

That hotel was just as nice but shit it wasn’t a Renaissance! It turned into a mini argument while I tried to sell the hotel but he was stubborn. I started to say fuck it and keep the one that I wanted but I became the bigger person.

My mother *eavesdropping* starts teasing me talking about I was dipping to a hotel for a booty call **damn straight!** and why we just take it to his mama’s basement like she sure we have before *damn straight*. But um yeah Mom I really wasn’t trying to get into that type of conversation with you. And my mother has a far more graphic mouth than I do. Some things should not fall out of your parents’ mouth EVER!

But I’m sure her frank discussion on sex, men, and relationships have kept me from getting knocked. Ok that and the threat of a body cast.

FH had left me on Tuesday to fly back to Texas, she’s shipping off next week I think, so we were a little sad. I mean a whole year probably without me talking to my bitch? What the fuck am I going to do? I told her to write to me at least so I know her ass is still alive and I don’t have to find out the hard way. I will admit I teared up a bit more so now than the first time she went over there. Maybe because the war was still kind of new and wasn’t as violent as it is now. There weren’t many news reports of deaths overseas and now it seems like folks are dying by the dozens every day. Then again Iraq has damn near disappeared off the news and she already informed me that things are not what they appear over there. We get a completely different report of shit that happens over there.

You know me, CONSPIRACY THEORY time.

So pray for my girl yall and pray they send her ass home with all her pieces intact.
So I had a pretty decent week so far, nothing major, lots of catching up with people and surveying the neighborhoods, surprised by some of the changes but relieved that some of the neighborhoods are being cleaned up. Of course it’s because of the White Folks who decided to abandon the city for the suburbs to get away from the Niggers but now realize that maybe it wasn’t such a bright idea since one Black folks will follow you like roaches regardless of where the fuck you move and two you lived at one time 20 minutes from your job on a bad day, now you’re a hour and a half commute to and from work and although gas prices are dropping now, they definitely felt that impact on the wallet. So White Folks are trying to reclaim the city.

Besides maybe it wasn’t a bright idea to put many of tourist attractions *The United Center for example* dead smack in the middle of the ghetto where after dark probably meant someone was going home wallet-less, car-less, and shoe-less. They’ve torn down many of the project building to build expensive condos but those high rise building were a real eyesore. And I saw that they were trying to fix up the neighborhood around US Cellular *Cominsky Park* field where the White Sox play. Can’t have the die hard White Sox fans stepping over pissy winos and crack heads now can we? Can’t be walking from the Red Line through the projects to get to the stadium of course.

The shit angers me as you can tell. *insert cynical laugh*

Amazing what cities deem as important and what’s not.

I mean damn fix the streets at least! Chicago streets are fucking death traps and let’s not get on the fact it takes like 5 years to fix a three block stretch of road.

Thursday is when shit hit the fan. What is it about me and weekends?

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Saturday Night Live...Pt 2

I turn my head and its FH ex boyfriend from high school. He’s looks a little like Jay Z. He’s a pretty cool dude, a little arrogant, but he is funny as hell with a biting type of sarcasm that few understand.

They basically broke up because she got tired of putting up with his mouth and hell what high school relationship lasts? They’re still on speaking terms and of course we’re Face Book buddies. I was surprised to see him because he’s not really a club person.

So we hug, talk shit to each other, and I flag down FH and TWIN because we always joke it never fails we always run into someone from our high school no matter where we are at. Yesterday we ran into two people who we graduated with and both of course were surprised that we did not have children. *sigh* Damn shame most of your graduating class has two plus children, many during high school or right after. We were laughing Friday because everyone assumed FH was pregnant due to the fact that she is way thicker than she was in high school.

We were all like twigs in high school, well I always had a butt, but we were scrawny as hell in high school. I didn’t hit 100 pounds until my Junior year with TWIN being the “heaviest” of the three of us at 105 pounds, and FH towering over our asses at 5’10’’ was tall and skinny. I remember my prom dress had to have the top taken in three times because I had no breasts *well still don’t really. Who ever said men sucking on your breast makes them grow is a damn liar, or shit I needed better men with better mouths or something* and the top was drooping in the front.

Now FH is the heaviest, the Army has sprouted *or paid for* her breasts which are looming on the “D” size. How the fuck did they skip from a “B” to a “D” in the course of five years I have no idea. It must be something in that Iraqi water or something. You know I’m jealous right?

And only TWIN is still the same size as in high school. We think she’s on that shit. Either that or anorexic.

I’m just a tad bit bigger. I gained my freshman 15, lost it, gained some back, lost it, got on the shot, picked up some weigh, lost that, and picked up some more due to my obsession with McDonald’s and I’m working to lose some of that. I weigh 138 *I don’t think I look it though* and while I’m happy that finally I am able to keep weigh on, with my height I don’t want to look chunkier than I really am.

Oh yes and the butt has spread, now it’s clear that I have an ass regardless of what I wear.

Since we’re Face Book buddies and he has written comments on some of the pictures I have on there I guess he wasn’t too surprised by my lack of material. He made a crack that my fiancé was going to come up in the club with a wife beater and some footies and flip out *refer to “Crazy, Deranged” sketch from Martin Lawrence’s You So Crazy*. I think he was stunned by FH because we were all die hard *tight* jeans, t shirts, and sneakers in high school and then when we had to wear uniforms, black Dickies and T shirts. And did I mention her breasts are enormous now?

So we’re laughing and joking because he’s brought alone two of his cronies and since they really don’t do the club scene, they’re acting like arrogant jerks, looking at us like we’re crazy because we’re dancing and having a good time. I guess they’re used to the Wall Posters or something.

One of them try to strike up a conversation by mentioning that he saw my profile on Face Book but because he wasn’t listed as a friend he couldn’t see my entire profile but they *meaning my girl’s ex and him* get bored at school and go through profiles. In fact he thinks he sent me a friendship notification and he thinks I rejected it *which I probably did. If I don’t know you I won’t accept your invite*. Ok whatever but what does this have to do with anything?

He goes on to say that he’s glad I’m cute in person as well as in the pictures because that’s how females get you. Have a raw ass picture on their page but look like a monster in person. Photo shopped like a muthafucker and shit. Or just plain perpetrating. This is kind of true I guess. But then again some folks just take better pictures than others. While I don’t think I’m particularly photogenic *I got some doozies on the computer* I can take a good picture. But whatever. Why are you all up in my album though?

As you can tell I was giving him lukewarm attention. I mean I’m trying to have a good time and he’s trying to lock a sister down with dry conversation.

And then all hell breaks loose.

We’re catching our breathe and decides to partake in another “drank” *you know these types of clubs make their drinks super strong, none of that being stingy with the liquor* and us girls are relaxing our feet because you know them bad boys were burning. I saw a few girls smirking because we had our shoes off in the booth, I guess we should have rocked some Ones or some flip flops or something.
FH leans over and tells me dude is feeling me and has been pumping her ex for info about me or whatnot but he didn’t say much other than I have a boyfriend and I don’t live in Chicago anymore.

And then their other friend who really didn’t say much the entire night came over and asked for my number for his guy. Naturally I told him no as your guy has been yakking to me all night but is too fucking lazy to come over and ask for my number? How lame and how high school. Don’t send your flunky to try to holla.

So naturally dude gets his panties in a bunch and start pouting. I guess he thought I was being arrogant or something because I mean why else wouldn’t I want to holla, I mean do I see how he’s flicking in his outfit and of course his wallet is fat *aren’t they all*so I must be stupid if I want to holla right?

**rolls eyes**

Feet rested, we head back to the dance floor. I’m dancing, having a good time, when he slips up behind me to dance. I’m not really picky with whom I dance with just as long as he keeps his paws to himself and knows how to dance. I’m always being ragged on because I dance with the “ugly” boys at the club *you know the one that your girl grabs your hand and pull you away from shaking her head?* but damn I’m just trying to dance not take the nigga home. And besides most of the time the ugly guys will dance while the pretty ones stunt from the side lines or just can’t dance. Mashing your butt into that big ass belt buckle leaving marks, or just leaning or something, leaving you do all the work.

Why did this fool cup my butt cheek under the skirt? This Negro had the audacity to grip my almost bare butt cheek *I wore boy shorts* and whispered in my ear that he would “fuck the shit out of me”.

I saw RED.

I had my drink in my hand, carefully juking as not to spill a drop of my rum and coke, and when he did that shit, I threw my drink in his face. Yeah my $8 down the drain. But it was a natural reaction.

Of course folks stop what the hell they’re doing to watch me flip out on his bird ass because I just know he did not grab my fucking butt?! Folks stepping back because they knew some shit was about to be shut down! My peoples are trying to calm me down and find out what the hell happened because one minute I’m laughing and next minute my drink is running down his face.

This nigga had a little gutter in him because nigga flipped back, mad because I’ve fucked up his shirt. Now his guys are trying to hold him back because I guess this little froggy was about to leap but shit you know my little ass is down. That’s one thing I can say about me I am *nearly* fearless. I am not scared of any one, my mother told me to never fear a man that can bleed just the same as I can, and I have taken that to heart my whole life. While I probably would have gotten scraped, he was going to be going to the same hospital as me.

So I have to hype the shit up, I’ve already kicked off the shoes and was ready to thump while everyone is trying to separate us. FOOL is tucking in the chain and ready to squad up, I mean we’re all ride or die.

Enter the bouncers. One grabs me and the other grabs him and we begin our trot to the door while my friends are trying to explain what went down before I am tossed out the club. The bouncer who had me was kinda cute and he’s grumbling talking about I should be ashamed of myself acting like a heathen in the club and of course links my anger to alcohol which to my defense I only have two drinks plus a few sips of the one I threw in the guy’s face.

In the end, they tossed him and allowed me to stay with the bouncers watching me like a hawk. We have a good laugh about the situation because what else could you really do besides take the shit to the parking lot and although I am still salty I manage to have a great time.

We stumble out the club at about 3 am and go to the Harold’s on 127th and Halsted because it was open late. You know I had to have my five piece with mild sauce. I was so tired after eating I fell asleep in the car and woke up when they tossed my ass out the car.

Had to do the “Ghetto Holler” for my mama to open the door because I was too lazy to look for my keys. Of course she was not amused but she was up anyway because my niece was up. I take my niece and retreat to “her” room and together we both fall asleep. My mother snapped a picture of us sleeping so when she gets the film developed she’ll send me one. Eventually I had to put her in her crib because I like to toss and turn and I was scared to move because I didn’t want to roll over on her and she’s a mover as well.

Woke up Sunday at about 1 or 2 in the afternoon. Lazed around. Talked on the phone with FOOL who was nursing a hang over. We later made plans to go over to TWIN’s father house where we watched Flavor of Love, The Wire and Def Comedy Jam as you know clowning the entire time.

Ok that was the first weekend at home. Sorry it took so long.

Saturday Night Live...Pt 1

Sorry it seems to be taking longer than ever to tell everyone about my vacation because work has been kicking the left and right side of my butt this week. Not only am I working back to back alternating shifts *working until 11 at night, coming back at 6:30 am the next day*, apparently everyone at work has forgotten how to do shit and of course have been bugging the hell out of me.

Umm did I not go on vacation for a week so why are you asking me about something that happened last week?

And did I mention we have two new workers and apparently they are to “shadow” me?
Saturday….*sigh* What can I say about Saturday?

I haven’t been thrown out of a club in months *well since May* but I came real close to being tossed out on our asses Saturday.

I know what else is new right?

The night started off nice enough, we’re in the club having a grand old time. Of course we would be partying out in ghetto ass Dolton, a suburb of Chicago that over the years have became one of the “ghetto Black” suburbs that only Chicago can be known for.

You know the type of club that is shut down monthly due to an obnoxious amount of health and safety violations, I mean sure live wires hanging from the ceiling is hot to def you know and the rats and roaches, shit don’t front like you ain’t never had roaches! The names changes frequently and let’s not get on the police presence outside of the club.

And of course these clubs are infamous for the street brawls and “shutting the club down” antics that I actually rarely see in DC. Shit on any given Friday and Saturday in Chicago you might have to run for your life in the parking lot because some idiot decided to “up them thangs” because someone scuffed up an Air One or brand new Timberland boot. So you know I had to strap on the bullet proof vest under my dress because DC has spoiled me *I haven’t had to dash through a parking lot yet* and I was not trying to get my black ass shot because Black folks in DC don’t act as much as a fool in the clubs like Chicago folks.

Well they probably do, I just haven’t hit up those clubs yet. I avoid Maryland due to a couple of incidents when we lived out there for a short spell when we first moved to the area. I stick with DC clubs but since they tax out the butt sometimes I guess folks have the sense not to fight in a club after you’ve paid $20 plus to enter.

Downtown clubs tend to be a little classier but further out…eh you get what you pay for.

Why TWIN chose this place I can’t comprehend. I think she thought since 92.3 DJs out the club sometime that it would be a hot place to hit up, which it was, I ain’t gonna lie, but the club is as ghetto as it can get.
I mean I remember when we would hit up Nitro in our little jean outfits, sneakers, and typical ghetto wear, you know the little cheap outfits that we loved to death. Boom X outfits, Parker Jeans, FuBu Sport, that kind of thing. But maybe college has spoiled me because now I would not be caught dead in the club with a pair of sneakers on. I’m suffering in my stilettos. Damn that. In fact I buy cute outfits just for the club. Fitted jeans, expensive shirts and skirts, little flirty dresses that type of thing. You know what you typically see in the club nowadays, basically everyone trying to out dress everyone. Either that or out skank one another. I’m not wearing the moon boots, the sneaker/boot combo thing that I hate with a passion, Air Walk boots *although they are kinda cute*, the knee high Timberland boots for ladies…anything in my opinion that looks either too young or too “ghetto”.
This obviously was not the club to rock “classy” outfits

So TWIN, FH and I felt obviously overdressed since rocking stilettos I guess was not the norm at the club. We were asked a total on 7 times that night were we coming from a wedding or something because we were dressed up.
Umm yeah….FH was rocking a cute one piece gaucho outfit, TWIN had this outrageous skanky red one piece suit aka “Skripper Gear” and I had on a little black dress. And I do mean little *lol*
So you know we’re already being ice grilled.

FOOL and a whole bunch of his friends met us up there and for the most part we’re chilling in the booth, clowning and shit. We’re straight roasting on folks because apparently stretch marks are in. I mean I have never seen that many tire tracks in my life. Worms for days on many of these broads body. Breasts looking like deflated water balloons, weaves all nappy and crooked.

Just hot ass messes basically.

Apparently we were “bougie” because we were “dressed up” in a sea of Moon Boots and Akademiks jean outfits.

But ask us did we care?

And the “Butches” were out that night. Licking their chops at us. And most of the chicks that were lesbians at this clubs dressed and looked like straight up dudes. Hair corn rowed to the back, baggy outfits, sneers, and just walked, talked, and acted like straight up men. I mean you really had to look closely at some of them to see if they were a man. Mainly I checked for sport bra outlines and chest that did not look “masculine” swole. And of course earrings. Many wore small hoops which is a no no for men in Chicago…unless you’re Michael Jordan.

Funny enough it was the “femmes” that were coming to holler at us. In particular me. In particular that their “girlfriends” sent them over to holler at me for her. Yeah it’s not that kind party going on over here but rather than risk a confrontation and possibly get that ass whooped *some of them bitches were some big bitches* I politely declined and played the men extra extra close.
Of course I was teased all night as chicks have been approaching me since high school. I mean gosh I know I’m adorable and all but something has got to give.

In the words of my ever wise-cracking grandmother: ”A woman can’t do nothing for me but bake a cake and I don’t eat everyone’s cooking”!

But still we had a blast. It had been a nice minute since the entire crew has been together since we’re all stretched over the US with FOOL really being the only one who still lives in Chicago and of course we live through him.
Although he did not tell me about the Pink Line. Thanks Mr. Mack for the clarification. And yes the “Pink Line” is really lame. I mean there are other colors in the rainbow you know other than “Pink”. What was Chicago thinking?
We’re juking to good ol’ House Music, one thing I love about the ghetto clubs is that everyone, asides from the thugs of course, dances. There’s none of that posting up at the bar or against the wall, too pretty to sweat. And the DJs actually know how to blend and chop songs properly. And none of that New York crap that spews from the speakers at DC clubs. When will they learn that every song that comes out of NY with a beat does not classify as a “dance” song. You do not dance to every single Jay Z song!

TWIN had some creepy “Old Man in the Club” stalking her on the dance floor, circling around us like a hungry shark, waiting for someone to move so he can make his mark. No matter where we moved he was there lurking with the pedophile glasses.

I’m dancing when someone taps me on my shoulder....

Monday, September 18, 2006

The First Friday...

Wow where should I begin with my sordid tales of Chicago?

I’ll start with Friday the 8th.

Of course a bitch was running late getting to the airport as I could not decide what the hell to pack so I was up pretty late trying to stuff as many of my skimpiest outfits I could in my suitcase and did I mention my suitcase ripped so a bitch was Betsy Ross in that bitch sewing up my suitcase until nearly two. See if DC had a damn all night Wal-Mart I would have just bought a new one.

Of course I get in line and why does it takes dick wads forever to use the computer terminals? I mean damn slide in a credit card and go. It’s taking muthafuckers damn near twenty minutes to check in and shit. And one thing I hate, why the hell don’t you have your shit out before you get to the terminal? I mean damn you know you’re next so shouldn’t you be digging in your bag before you actually step up?

Yeah I’m so impatient.

At security I got into a minor dispute with security over Carmex and flip flops. I was like, “Really what the fuck am I going to do with some Carmex? I mean come on the fucking flight attendant has to be nose to nose with me in order to squirt the shit in his/her eye! Carmex ain't shit but some Vaseline in a yellow tube. AND I had just copped a new one? Yeah aiight, I wasn’t giving up my 1.19 purchase. Damn that.”

And besides I argued that Carmex is medication so I should be able to bring it on since I am a hypochondriac and if I don’t slap Carmex on my lips every five seconds I break out in hives.

And I refused to take off the 3.50 Old Navy that are like two scrapes from bring those cheap paper shoes you get at the Nail Shop that’s how worn those bad boys are because one you could see my toes and two trust I couldn’t stick a piece of gum on these bad boys let alone a bomb without me walking with a limp. And besides the ground was nasty.

After much debate and dirty ass looks from the people behind me, I was allowed entrance to my gate.

I slept the entire flight so no drama. A bitch was snoring as soon as I sat down. I woke up when we landed at O’Hare, the dreaded airport that takes about an hour just to get the hell out of Concourse B. Yeah the cheaper flight was for O’Hare, usually I’m at Midway which is about 15 minutes from my house driving.

Of course lazy ass FH, TWIN and FOOL are no where to be seen, my grandmother was sleeping, and everyone else was at work so a bitch had to hop on the Blue Line. When the fuck did Chicago get a damn Pink Line that’s all I want to know? Since the “Els” *as the trains are called in Chicago* are notoriously late when it comes to taking down advertisements *I’ve seen shit for 1999….in 2003* I thought it was maybe like a Breast Cancer thing or something but no it’s for real. I was a little suspicious like is that the line for gays or something *I know bogus as hell right, my badd my badd* but then again that was the line that I needs not be on. I ain’t trying to get raped on the Pink Line train, shit the Transit Police can give a damn about violence on the train.

And I am definitely too pretty for the County.

After struggling with my obnoxiously heavy bag dragging them that long ass Green Mile to the train stop, of course hogging up a seat or two pissing off a few of the Rush Hour folks but oh well shit should’ve gotten on at an earlier stop, I dozed off.

Chicago’s train is the only place when I can be in a deep sleep and is still aware of where my purse and shit is because I will cut a bitch. I had my suitcase straps wrapped all around my arm, purse securely on my lap, clasp facing me and I had the mean mug face on. I wish a bitch would…

Overslept on the fucking train, missed Jackson and got off at Racine just to go to UIC/Halsted and transfer to the bus. Damn Chicago is really cleaning up the streets. Great more hood ass niggas pushed into my decrepit ass neighborhood. Cant have the UIC students stepping over crack heads and living in dorms next to crack houses now can we?

Get home and my phone rings. Oh these bitches now just woke up and if I want they can come get me from O’Hare.

Bitches I’m at home now. Tired and sweaty.

We make plans to meet up later to go shopping for TWIN and FOOL’s birthday present, two impossible folks to shop for. Well I had TWINs shit in the bag though so it was up to me to find something for FOOL who has basically everything that you can buy a man who’s not your man, ya dig?

I play with my niece for a few hours, messing with her, and basically just treating her like a little football. Of course as a five month old she’s giggling and gurgling to everything I do to her. Go figure.

We take a quick nap together and when I wake up, my phone is ringing. The crew is outside.

We hug and do the “girlie” thing, I mean damn it has been a few months since we’ve seen each other so we’re doing the once over. Who’s gotten fat, whose hair is shorter/longer/nappier, the sluttiest outfit, biggest butt and breasts…and so on. My butt has gotten bigger and TWIN was upset that I chopped some of my hair off.

For some reason, we went to Evergreen Plaza aka “Ever Black” and although much hasn’t changed since we were “Ever Black” Mall Rats our freshman year of high school, everything seems so juvenile. We’re like, “Damn did we really hang up at the mall like this when we were in high school?”

And we’re getting picked up my high school boys.

We’ve flirted for a few discounts and just were acting an ass in the mall. Just clowning. We’re asking the cute little boys in the store embarrassing questions, making them blush, we’re haggling over the prices for men’s clothing, and we’re roasting on folks and some of the shit folks had on.

Of course I had fantastic pictures but that damn phone of mine crashed and went back to its original factory settings. I was so fucking pissed.

I did have some creepy guy who was following me from store to store with his phone out *probably snapping pictures of my ass* until I finally had to tell him I was a lesbian and my butch lover, FH, was going to beat the fuck out of him and me if he didn’t leave me alone. He was a little surprised *and probably turned on* but he kept his distance from me. Old pervert ass.

I finally just bought FOOL a pair of RocaWear jeans *TWIN bought him the matching shirt, I mean shit we were roaming the mall for close to three hours looking for him something and she begged to buy the shirt since she couldn’t find him anything*

We go to one of the hood shops for some Pizza Puffs, Gyro Cheeseburgers, and Fries with Mild Sauce when we meet up with FOOL whose absence was undetermined earlier since the nigga wasn’t at work. Probably laid up with some broad.

We put on a four person Comedy routine in the store and we had the cooks laughing so hard, they made us leave. I know crazy right? We were just clowning, they were teasing me about being engaged like I’m grown or something and expressed surprise that I actually brought the ring to Chicago and it was on my finger. We’re making up Ghetto Themes for my wedding including me walking down the aisle in a White one piece cat suit *with rhinestones* to “Drop It Like It’s Hot” while the Bridesmaids rock daisy dukes and “make a lil change”. White tees and fitted caps for the Groomsmen and we can’t forget the Timbs and Stilettos.

Reception at Harold’s on 83rd. Followed by a night at The Ice Bar.

We were laughing so hard we were crying.

We hung out at FH mama’s house for a hot second and when I had enough laughing and joking, I’m like someone drop me off at home.

Pulls up and muthafucking OMAR is in front of my building talking to my little brother.

We see each other and square off. His face looking all crazy and tight and shit.

FH looking at me like should she gone head and get the piece out the trunk *lol*

OMAR is like damn do I ever stay in DC because everything he turn around my ass is back in Chicago.

I’m like damn every time I’m in Chicago you’re on my block snooping and stalking I mean damn I know you don’t come on my block like that when I’m not at home so why are you on my block now.

Of course he claims he’s talking to my brother because he was riding by and saw my brother standing outside and they were having a chat until I burst out the car like Action Jackson and shit.

I’m looking around because I don’t see his little girlfriend and I know how he is so I’m like where’s your girl or did she finally escape from the clutches of *insert real name*

Vague ass answer. Girl is probably floating in Lake Michigan right about now and we all know once some shit land in the Lake it’s a wrap. That body is not going to be found.

You know FH ass had to be the one to set him off. She asked him did he know I was engaged.

And the eye starts twitching.

Oh he knows all right and makes it known that “dude is a sucker for fucking around with a cold hearted wrench like myself”.

This riles me up because no one talks about my man like that. I don’t tolerate that shit at all. Say what you want when I’m not around but you’re not just going to slam someone in front of me.

So naturally we gets into it. I’m like, “Ok he’ll be a sucker but none more than you and old girl, I mean wasn’t she fucking your guy while yall were together? I mean damn on your birthday you got a measly card and the shit wasn’t even a Hallmark and he got an X-Box…Guess he was laying that X-Box dick down huh? Damn writing this broad love letters, “I wanna marry you” and all this shit and your guy was piping that. Now that’s sucker…sucker.”

A low blow but oh well, that jab landed right on the fucking jaw.

He gets in his car and pulls off. My brother and FH are joking that that the nigga is going to come back with a gun and air all our asses out when he comes screeching back around the corner.

Oh now he’s pissed.

And he wants to have the last word.

Of course my second name *Bitch* was used in extreme excess and of course he’ll run me over and all the good mess. Now you know I’m highly amused by this so I’m just standing there with this dumb ass smirk on my face because to be honest he amuses me. He’s yelling as loud and he can from the curb and shit while I’m just standing biting my tongue to prevent myself from bursting out laughing.

His accent thickens and he probably calls me all types of foul shit in Jamaican but I’m not easily intimidated so I’m not worried about his ass. He remembers that ass whooping he got the last time he thought he was going to put his damn hands on me and ol’ boy is not a fighter.

He’s all puffed up and breathing hard and FH tells him to calm down and why is he letting me rile him up like that? I mean damn she could have told him I was cold hearted, shit everyone know I’m cold hearted, so why don’t he just gone on home and be easy.

Folks on the block are kinda disappointed that this ain’t going to turn into a brawl so they just wander off. You know thirsty ass niggas are always waiting for someone to box over something.

And since I’m not one of those screeching “Un Uh” Ghetto Bitches, I’m just standing there damn near laughing, they definitely aren’t interested. I mean I didn’t have any earrings to pull off, no pulling my weave back in a ponytail, no Vaseline on the face, so they knew shit wasn’t going to pop off.

OMAR runs out of steam and we kick it in front of the house for a little while and FH dips because she got a phone call from an old Chicago dip and we know dick don’t wait for horny old broads.

I talk to my moms for a nice minute, stuff my face again, and doze off. Niece in the little bouncy chair with her little head cocked to the side, sleep and drooling.

I did make plans to go out but shit when I woke up it was after midnight, I had about four missed calls, and I was still out of it so I went to sleep.

And that was my first Friday at home.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

The Kid Is Back!

Yes Yes Yall...Tenacious is back in the muthafucking building!

A glorious week in Chicago and of course it wouldn't be me if I didn't have some shit to tell...

Mr. Mack...We played phone tag the entire week, I guess next time we'll get up. Ladies Mr. Mack has a sexy ass voice to go with that body! Even my 5 month old niece was licking the phone...LOL

Besides unintentional baby sitting duty, yeah about two days worth...let's see

1. Got drunk with my friends the first weekend...Great Story

2. FH ran into an ex from high school and I ran into a ex literally.

3. Got into it with about three people...OMAR, LIGHT BRIGHT and my cousin.

4.One resulted in a fist fight.

5. I had to let SIGMA go as a friend.

6. I was laid up sick for two days, hence baby sitting duties. Damn rain!

7. My father and I are on decent speaking terms for the time being.

8. If one more person acted surprised that I did not have children I was going to slap someone.

9. JDUBB was not pleased to hear of my engagement BUT I did not see him once while I was in Chicago.

10. The tranny who was doing hair...OMG a story and a half. Adventures in Ghetto Ass Shop Land...

11. Fucking phone crashed Saturday...All my pics are gone! Bitch was pissed. Even threw the damn phone down.

12. Spent too much money.

13. When the fuck did Chicago get a "Pink Line"? I thought the shit was a joke.

14. Went out Friday, got twisted.

15. Almost missed my flight on Sunday.

Plus other little random things here and there. When I get my thoughts together, my weekend adventures are up first.

I missed everyone...I got all of your comments. And yes T Cas, I like being different. That's why I comment on everyone's blog.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

And So It Begins...

Gosh I can’t believe that I leave tomorrow for a sunny *hopefully Chicago weather changes with the quickness* week in Chicago.

I can’t wait.

I don’t know why I’m getting so geeked like I don’t go home at least once a month. I think it’s the home cooking. You mean a week of me not cooking? Dishes duty is granted, I’m the eternal slave when I’m at home. I’m always washing dishes when I come home being that I am banned from making anything on the stove. I mean damn burn one pan of cornbread and the family acts as if I’ve committed a crime against Jiffy Mix.

I ain’t complaining though. I actually hate to cook. I try to weasel my way out of cooking every night *with some success*. The fiancé is learning his way around the kitchen I may add. Better him than me. I’m content with a sandwich.

Trish I heart you. Don’t be mad. *lol* I call it how I see it. Flawless honey. Just learn to take a compliment dammit! Trust, it gets easy. Pretty soon you’ll be like me talking, “Nigga I know I’m cute!” *lol*

Thanks Mr. Viperteq. I talk about Justin so much he sent me FutureSex/LoveSounds which quickly went to the IPOD and I burned a copy for the house and car. Picture my hunched down fiancé in the passenger seat too embarrassed to sit up because Justin is blasting from his Jeezy/Lil’ Wayne/Jay Z/Ludacris encrusted speakers, me singing along *badly* and dancing in the seat at the light, and you’ll have a pretty clear picture of me after work driving up Route 110.

I will agree that there are about three songs that I don’t like on his cd. I don’t really like the slow songs too much but the rest of the cd is tight.
I was just going to swipe it from the internet, sorry as much as I love Justin I don’t buy cds anymore, besides I can pay him a different way *wink wink* but Viper did me a BIG favor by just sending me the files.


I was shrieking and bouncing all over the house while it uploaded.

Now if only someone would send me some sexy nude male pictures so I can have a story to tell. Remember no peanut butter shots…well…maybe just one or two *lol*.

LIGHT BRIGHT offered to pick my up from O’Hare but I declined. My girls are going to roll out of the bed *probably late as shit knowing them* and we’re going to hang Downtown for a little while. Then it’s shopping and partying for TWIN and FOOL’s birthday. Sunday we’re going to Six Flags and then TWIN heads to where ever the Navy plans on sending her and FH is preparing for Iraq. When the crew gets together crazy things happen. I wonder if G is going to be in town. I need to get my ass to a gay club and of course he’s the obvious choice for going with me. He does his thing, we get free drinks, and I don’t have to worry about being felt up by some nigga. Well I’ll probably be felt up but only because he wants to feel the material *lol*. Yeah I hit gay clubs from time to time but only the men ones. No ladies. I have enough problems with them picking me up on the street, I don’t need to encourage anyone. And *shudder* I might run into one of the many lesbians that I went to high school with. Could you imagine the gossip? “Ay yo tell me why I saw Tenacious up in the club…I guess some chick turned her out…”

No No No. Strictly Penis over here.

What am I going to do with myself while in town? I guess behaving. Nah. I’ll just be good a little. I’ll try to keep my hands to myself. I’m this close to being registered as a sex offender in Illinois. And shit the County is cold as hell. I am too pretty for jail.

Let’s pray that the stalking radar is broken while I’m in town. Last thing I am trying to do is be bothered with my exes. Maybe I’m a better girlfriend than I care to admit because those fools just can’t leave me alone. I mean I know the expression **and Janet song** “You don’t know what you got until it’s gone” but I mean damn something has got to give. Or maybe I just attract the random crazy dude with separation anxiety.

But I probably won’t be that lucky. OMAR’s mother lives about 5 blocks away from me. My mother bowls around the corner from JDUBB’s people house and unfortunately KAPPA makes his presence known at a lot of the clubs that I frequent. Damn I need to really stay the fuck out of my neighborhood. If I wasn’t banned *and terrified* of the West Side *lol* I would take up over there but um West Side dudes are just a lil crazier than South Siders like myself.

And I guess living right off of 79th doesn’t help either. Niggas stay cruising through my neighborhood.

And whose car am I cuffing when I go home? Due to my accident folks are wary of me driving anywhere like I’m going to crash on a side street or something. I do well driving on the street, it’s the expressways that I am not too fond of although LIGHT BRIGHT did say I could whip the PussyMobile around. Shit he’ll fuck around and not get that Monte Carlo back. A bitch would be straight ghost on his ass *lol*

I’m just going to kick back and have some fun. I might even make a trip down to U of I to see what’s popping on the old campus. I still know a few folks down there so it should be fun.

Go get my hair “did” at one of the hood shops. You ain’t never been in a hood shop until you go to one in Chicago. Where else could I see Shawanda and Felicia box it out because Felicia is fucking around with Shawanda’s baby daddy and had the audacity to come up in the salon knowing Shawanda been wanting to get up in that ass for the past two weeks. *lol* I mean why get your weave tightened only for it to end up on the pavement?

You know I could get the cluster ponytail with a French roll in the back, waterfalls in the front with the front part of my hair red and the back blond *like Keisha Cole* and a bang swoop. You know bring that shit back in style. Shit and maybe I might ask for a finger wave or two *lol*

But at least they know what a “wrap” is in Chicago. I find myself always explaining it when I go to the shop. Damn wrap lotion, wrap my hair up, stick me under the dryer for a couple of hours, comb it down and flat iron. Bam that’s it. I guess because it’s so simple folks look puzzled. They’re like…so weave/gel/highlights/dye/glitter is not needed? Hmm…let me go to the books and see what she’s talking about.


I’ll holla…

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

About To Start My Vacation...

Sorry guys

I, for once in my short life, have absolutely nothing to talk about.

For Labor Day…I did laundry. Wow I know. So exciting.

Tuesday I worked. Nothing exciting happened. It was a slow night. Nothing major.

I had an early morning doctor’s appointment to have my blood drawn for tests. It was raining, I got lost, and I get to the place looking like a drowned rat because oh my umbrella decided to give out on me. And why the fuck do they need that much blood? Don’t they just use a few drops? Bitch filled up two test tubes of my blood, I was like “Damn do yall know something I don’t? And can I get my extra blood back and shit? I might need that one day.” I had to sit there for an extra five minutes because she couldn’t find a vein in my arm talking about I must have poor blood circulation. I’m like, “Yeah I’m sorry I don’t shoot up anymore, you know I had to give that type of life up and shit”. I think she stuck me extra hard on purpose and shit. And I’m a hypochondriac. I get a headache and swear it’s a tumor. Every sneeze and cough I’m at the doctor sure it’s Ebola *hey I work with a lot of Africans, shit you never know*. There are a couple of funny stories about my experiences with the doctor but I’ll leave those for another day. Now I’m paranoid thinking I’m a ham sandwich away from a heart attack due to poor blood circulation. So I demanded more tests than the standard ones. Shit let me know something.

Yeah I was a little grumpy Tuesday because I couldn’t eat anything until after the tests were done so I did a T. Cas and only had one meal on Monday. No BBQ sad to say.

Today was a little bit of the same. Nothing extremely exciting happened. It’s Audit Time so everyone was on their best behavior, including me. No snapping at the guest, no hanging up on folks, nothing. I was sweet and polite.

I know. Folks were feeling my forehead all weekend.

Apparently I owe the state of Virginia money. Personal Property Tax. I hate Virginia. It sucks. And just when I thought I got away from the crappy state of Illinois, King of Bootleg, Random shit. I’m still heated that I had to pay for a nonexistent fence when I had my car accident last July. My fucking car flips over and I have to pay for the fence that I allegedly hit, which is untrue because that chicken wire piece of shit fence was intact when I climbed out of the car. State was too cheap to pay for it out of their pocket so I had to pay for it out of mine. And coincidentally I lost my fucking copy of the report so the insurance company went by the one the State send it *a completely different one than I had I might add* so I have to cough up $283. Illinois sucks and now Virginia sucks. Damn car is not even fucking mine! Now I have to pay $195 to Virginia. Oh suckie ass state!

I broke down and bought my best friend the stupid Jordans. Why did I buy the shit last week and it’s still not here? I’m an impatient person but damn it should not have taken this long. Now if the shit’s not in by tomorrow, my fiancé is going to have to bring them when he comes in town the following week.

I haven’t packed yet. I suck. I’ll do it tomorrow. I always wait until the last minute to pack.

I have my camera phone and cameras handy so this time expect pictures when I come back.

Mr. Mack we have a date…err well not a date per se….but umm we have….ummm a face to face?.....*lol* whatever you want to call it. I’ll email you with my info. That way you can tell folks how small my booty really is in person and how I probably got us kicked out of a random club because I cursed at the bouncer or something *lol* Or better yet, “Damn yall Tenacious really do talk too much!”

I’m jealous. Trish and Isis are some flawless females. Well they were flawless before the pictures but ladies I KNOW the men are going to blow up your page now *lol*


Yeah another reason for someone to try to push me out a closet I was never in. But hell I’ll give props when props are due, even the fiancé had to pause and was like, “Damn who’s that?”….hmm a little side eye and banishment to the couch straightened that one up right then and there *lol*

All the ladies on my blog roll are some flawless females talking about yall single…Yall some lying ass muthafuckers! *lol* Dudes must either be blind or gay. And even the gays ones might give you a second glance, nine times out of ten to appraise the outfit but that’s not the point.

Speaking of which, how come men never send ME any naked pictures? Hmmpt, I’m insulted. Everyone has a “naked person in my in box” story but me. Shit I get “Do You Have Problems Getting An Erection?” emails but no naked men. That’s some funny shit because I never get the “Increase Your Bust” ones, mine always have to do with penile erections or some shit like that. I won’t even get on the porn offers with the misspellings in it. Those are comedy in itself. So….um….yeah I’m soliciting *lol* Don’t send me anything that’s too freaky though. I don’t need that picture of you rubbed down in peanut butter. Just save that one for someone else’s email.

Well….maybe mine…but it’s gotta be the creamy kind.


Ok it’s official…I am a natural born fool.
If I get my lazy ass up early enough I might drag my ass to the library and blog.

I don’t really download porn by the way. Don’t even look at it. I just can’t look at a 14 inch penis and get happy. A bitch gets scared as hell. Ain’t no way in hell is that sliding up in me. My coochie lips ain't gonna be hanging down to the ground singing “Swing Low Sweet Chariot”, whistling and shit when I walk. Can’t do it.

Don’t have too much fun on me while I’m gone. I will be checking out my favorites at least on my phone!!