Rashan Jamal aka T. Cas asked: 1: How come you ain't call me on your ATL layover?
2. What is the craziest thing you ever said to a guy at the club?
3. Do you actually talk like you write? And if so, please go to this website ( http://www.snapvine.com) and do an audio post so we can hear what you sound like.
1. LOL do you know long ago that lay over was?
Let’s see…at the time I either didn’t have your phone number.
Or I slept during the layover.
If I remember correctly I think it was only an hour and a half layover.
Not sure how far you are from the airport but I figured it would be a bust. By the time you get over, I’ll probably have to turn around and get right back in the security line.
Actually my best friend is pressuring me to come to Atlanta for the 31st-4th of September. I’m still up in the air I’m supposed to get to New York and Virginia Beach during that time.
But hey email me your number again just in case you changed it or something since someone *coughcough* is NEVER online anyway.
…lol ok why did this read like an email?
And ok why will this fuel back up rumors of our “passionate” yet short lived love affair?
LOL…Lemme stop starting shit.
2. You mean when sober or when I was “allegedly” drunk?
I say plenty of crazy things, mainly using old pick up lines spoken to me. I think it’s a lot funnier when I say the same lame crap to men and I receive a puzzled expression back.
It boggles me that “lines” actually work. I mean who is really falling for these lines?
Lines I’ve heard since I developed mosquito bites *or door knobs as they were called in the 7th grade* and begin to fill out my stirrup leggings.
Lines that followed me from bus to bus on my way to school.
Lines that I heard as I walked down the street toward a porch full of guys. Or walking past a group of guys at the food court in the mall.
I like to hit skeevy men with a dose of their own medicine every now and then. You know, reduce them to a piece of meat. Or serve as my own personal eye candy.
So I actively violate space, grope random body parts and whisper sweet nothings in an ear or two.
Wolf whistle *or spit as I tend to do since I can’t whistle* when a “tasty” morsel walks back.
Grab a hand while “seductively” biting my lower yank and yanking my head, like “ay come here”.
Grab a whole cheek. Hell sometimes I go straight for the package. I mean why not sexually harass? I mean him…in those loose fitting jeans? Shit he’s asking for my hands all over his body. I mean he’s asking for it!
Who told him to come out dressed like a future L&O:SVU episode?
But um…the craziest thing?
”Man do fries comes that shake?”
“Damn you thiiiccccckkkkkkkk”
“Aye Bay Bay” *this is BEFORE that cursed song!!**
“Mmm…damn shorty you looking RIGHT…What ‘cho number is?”
“Lemme holla at you for a minute”
“Your body is tight…You a stripper?”
“Aye why don’t we leave the club and you can slide with me to my mama’s house. I mean I have the whole basement on lock!”
And when I get drunk…I’m more crude and misandrist.
Lots of “niggas” and “fuck yous” and that such. *lol*
3. Yes and no.
I speak better English than I write it.
Although I love to read I never paid attention in English class which why I don’t use my verbs, nouns, pro nouns, etc. correctly.
I never learned how to write properly sad to say.
Speak yes. Write no.
And this is from an English major *lol*
I actually don’t like my voice too much. I think it’s too deep. Like “Man” deep.
And I’m just naturally loud. At a “normal” tone, you can still hear me across the room.
When I’m whispering, that’s a regular tone to most.
When I was younger and picked up the phone, people either thought they were talking to my mother…or my father.
Well actually I have been told I have a rather seductive, “Girl 6”, kinda voice.
But then again I think he was just trying to get in my pants *lol*
I’ll go ahead and do the little audio thing but I’ll warn you my voice is NOTHING like you would expect.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Open Forum Pt. 4
Ms. Lee asked: 1. What is the ideal TENACIOUS day like?
2. The skripper pole has been inadvertently exed out as a career. Are there any other occupations ruled out because of past experience?
3. God's offered you a choice, right here right now: Bigger breasts in exchange for that thick head of hair. Deal or No Deal?
1. My ideal day consists of not going to working, sleeping and eating Cheetos all day on the couch while trying actively to avoid BET when all the good talk shows goes off.
Or doing the “tourist” thing in DC. I’m snapping pictures of the Washington Monument like I don’t see it every day on my way to work.
Bur really for the most part my days are boring. I spend my waking hours at work, really trying to avoid walking out the front door and never coming some days, fielding mindless tasks and answering dumb ass questions for most of the day until I run out the door-literally.
I drive home, hand on the horn for those drivers who can’t “see” my black Camry, although I am right next to them, and they are determined to get in my lane. To go where, since the only thing next to me is the median, I still am clueless about.
Take off my clothes, return phone calls and emails that I couldn’t finish at work, yeah I make personal calls all day at work, and depending on the weather, I pass out outside while sunbathing.
Usually future hubbs gotta call me and remind me to pick him up from work and then I fight rush hour traffic to pick him up.
He usually cooks dinner, we talk about our day, retreat to separate rooms to watch TV because I refuse to watch ESPN, and eventually I pass out.
No glamorous life over here *lol* on most days.
2. Well…I wanted to be an astronaut as a child but then I realized if I hate flying in plane, I definitely am not messing with a space ship. I mean I don’t think I could claw my way off the plane once we’re in the air.
And then I found out astronauts actually do work while they’re in space. You know as a kid I thought they just went up there just to go *lol*
I ruled out being a chef….you actually need to know how to cook in order to be one. And I doubt my “burnt French fries covered in ketchup to cover the fact they’re burnt” and my unintentional “Cajun” meals would hardly be 5 star material.
I really should not have let the coursework *and the fact that I was an alcoholic who hit the bar before class* intimidate me my freshman year otherwise I would have still been on the road to Dr. Ville.
Now I will have to scope out a potential husband, because you know
JBN is a “starter” husband, by staking out John Hopkins or Georgetown’s Medical Centers. I’m going to bag me a neurosurgeon. *lol*
I thought about going back to school in order to pursue a medical career now that I’m “older” but that’s still up in the air.
And I have to find a law firm who will represent me when I sexually harass a patient. Not to mention malpractice suits. You know I will have to leave in the middle of a surgery to get my nails done *lol*
3. If we’re talking about me being completely bald, no deal.
I would look like a walking mental patient without hair.
And my hair is the black hole of sunlight; you know my scalp is light skinned like a mutha.
Now if we’re talking just losing the thickness, then it’s time for a shopping spree at Victoria’s Secret. I can proudly swipe asides the As and Bs in the front and hit the jackpot that’s in the back.
You know I get stares when I’m grabbing the bras from the front.
Maybe I wouldn’t be so aware of my chest if 9 year olds weren’t rocking 34Bs now.
I mean geez what is in the water these days…and how come it isn’t working on me?!
2. The skripper pole has been inadvertently exed out as a career. Are there any other occupations ruled out because of past experience?
3. God's offered you a choice, right here right now: Bigger breasts in exchange for that thick head of hair. Deal or No Deal?
1. My ideal day consists of not going to working, sleeping and eating Cheetos all day on the couch while trying actively to avoid BET when all the good talk shows goes off.
Or doing the “tourist” thing in DC. I’m snapping pictures of the Washington Monument like I don’t see it every day on my way to work.
Bur really for the most part my days are boring. I spend my waking hours at work, really trying to avoid walking out the front door and never coming some days, fielding mindless tasks and answering dumb ass questions for most of the day until I run out the door-literally.
I drive home, hand on the horn for those drivers who can’t “see” my black Camry, although I am right next to them, and they are determined to get in my lane. To go where, since the only thing next to me is the median, I still am clueless about.
Take off my clothes, return phone calls and emails that I couldn’t finish at work, yeah I make personal calls all day at work, and depending on the weather, I pass out outside while sunbathing.
Usually future hubbs gotta call me and remind me to pick him up from work and then I fight rush hour traffic to pick him up.
He usually cooks dinner, we talk about our day, retreat to separate rooms to watch TV because I refuse to watch ESPN, and eventually I pass out.
No glamorous life over here *lol* on most days.
2. Well…I wanted to be an astronaut as a child but then I realized if I hate flying in plane, I definitely am not messing with a space ship. I mean I don’t think I could claw my way off the plane once we’re in the air.
And then I found out astronauts actually do work while they’re in space. You know as a kid I thought they just went up there just to go *lol*
I ruled out being a chef….you actually need to know how to cook in order to be one. And I doubt my “burnt French fries covered in ketchup to cover the fact they’re burnt” and my unintentional “Cajun” meals would hardly be 5 star material.
I really should not have let the coursework *and the fact that I was an alcoholic who hit the bar before class* intimidate me my freshman year otherwise I would have still been on the road to Dr. Ville.
Now I will have to scope out a potential husband, because you know
JBN is a “starter” husband, by staking out John Hopkins or Georgetown’s Medical Centers. I’m going to bag me a neurosurgeon. *lol*
I thought about going back to school in order to pursue a medical career now that I’m “older” but that’s still up in the air.
And I have to find a law firm who will represent me when I sexually harass a patient. Not to mention malpractice suits. You know I will have to leave in the middle of a surgery to get my nails done *lol*
3. If we’re talking about me being completely bald, no deal.
I would look like a walking mental patient without hair.
And my hair is the black hole of sunlight; you know my scalp is light skinned like a mutha.
Now if we’re talking just losing the thickness, then it’s time for a shopping spree at Victoria’s Secret. I can proudly swipe asides the As and Bs in the front and hit the jackpot that’s in the back.
You know I get stares when I’m grabbing the bras from the front.
Maybe I wouldn’t be so aware of my chest if 9 year olds weren’t rocking 34Bs now.
I mean geez what is in the water these days…and how come it isn’t working on me?!
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Open Forum Pt 3
Thic Flair asked: Since yo booty is so big, I really want to know, how do you wipe? Back to front? Or do you just get in the shower?
I can’t believe I am even humoring you by answering this. I am sooo going to punch you in the face when I see you *lol*
1.To answer your question smart ass since my ass is not as big as you think it is. It’s average, the camera just adds like 10 lbs. *lol* I wipe front to back never back to front. Ew that’s just unsanitary.
And then I hop right in the shower. I always have to take a shower after I poo.
This is why I would never poo in a public place because I would have to rush home and hop in the shower.
I think that was TMI for some people. I mean geez Thic, no one wants to hear my poo stories! *lol*
Tom_Gurl asked : 1) How did you go from Nestle Crunch to Hershey Kiss? I'm still Nestle Crunch-and I'm almost 25...and far from impressed!! Any tips on how I can become a Hershey Kiss?
2) If you could do one thing, aboslutely anything-no holds barred what would it be and why?
3) Where in the world, apart from the US, would you want to live in?
1. I didn’t really use anything special. I actually use a lot of Neutrogena products. So much I should own stock. I have weird skin, aside from Clearasil oil-free moisturizer, I can’t really use any other acne medication on my face or it will break out. I think my skin is addicted to Neutrogena product. I'm not sure if anyone else uses the products but I swear by them.
It’s been a long struggle trust me. I think my skin finally began clearing up in college and aside from a break out or two when I’m stressed or I got more than a day without washing my face, my face stays pretty clear. I do have my “spots” where I break out more, namely my cheeks, chin and temples, but a little TLC *and drowning them pimples in acne medication* and I’m good to go.
I only wash my face in the shower. Never in the sink. At night I religiously slather on my overnight acne medication. I use as little alcohol products as possible. Minimum make-up. I don’t pick at my face and I’m very particular about people’s hands on my face, who knows the last time they’ve washed their hands and I try to keep as few hair products from touching my face.
And as much as I love the sun, I try to limit the amount of sunlight that hits my face. When it’s extremely hot I get heat bumps and those bitches take forever to go away.
Trust me it was a loooong process and it took months before I saw results. I mean at the time I guess the old “toothpaste dries your pimples out” theory didn’t work for me, it actually burned my skin. And then it took forever for my old acne scars to fade.
I dot on Neosporin at night as well to fade the old acne scars. It takes a while before you see results but so far I'm pleased with the results.
TLC, as many products from your favorite acne medication line, religious usage, and putting as little things on your face as possible is really my only tricks.
OK that and plenty of sex. *lol*
When my skin finally cleared up, the first things folks swore was that I was fucking.
And getting fucked pretty damn well at that.
I mean folks sniffing on me like, "Girl....you fucking?!" then demand to know why my face was so clear when I said "No".
Shit some of the crusty ass niggaz I fucked with couldn't clear up a cold let alone some pimples.
Umm yeah but I kinda filed that theory under the “Getting your titties sucked will make them bigger” and “Getting hit from the back will make your booty bigger” folder.
So results may vary *lol*
But....if you do meet a guy, yall fucking, and your skin clears up overnight, beware.
You might have run up on some "crack dick".
And honey if you’re chocolate, trust you’re a Hershey Kiss already ;-)
2. LOL you know my psychotic ass instantly thought “murder”.
But as many people as I would love to run over with a car that might make me a serial killer.
And I am too pretty for jail *lol*
But I’m such a lame, I would probably travel the world. Spend a few years just circling the globe. Visit all the places I love to watch on the Discovery Channel and The History Channel. See the places my ancestors may have roamed. See history up close.
I love to travel and I could just backpack it, ok well maybe not backpack it, I’ve seen Hostel, shit I’m going to need a real hotel and shower, across Europe and Asia. Hit up Africa. See Australia. Even pack the snow suit and visit Antarctica.
Snapping pictures and writing about it. It’s nice to watch the stuff on TV but I actually want to be one of those people who has been there, actually touched a piece of history.
I know…eternal nerd walking.
3. I would run off to Spain. No question. One of my friends went there for study abroad and brought back a load of pictures and videos.
Drink in the culture, the people, and the amazing scenery.
Not to mention the sexy Spanish men. Come te llamas indeed.
Just the landscape alone was enough to make me pack my bags and leave.
Then I realized I need a passport.
And I need to learn to speak something better than my 3rd grade Spanish.
I can’t believe I am even humoring you by answering this. I am sooo going to punch you in the face when I see you *lol*
1.To answer your question smart ass since my ass is not as big as you think it is. It’s average, the camera just adds like 10 lbs. *lol* I wipe front to back never back to front. Ew that’s just unsanitary.
And then I hop right in the shower. I always have to take a shower after I poo.
This is why I would never poo in a public place because I would have to rush home and hop in the shower.
I think that was TMI for some people. I mean geez Thic, no one wants to hear my poo stories! *lol*
Tom_Gurl asked : 1) How did you go from Nestle Crunch to Hershey Kiss? I'm still Nestle Crunch-and I'm almost 25...and far from impressed!! Any tips on how I can become a Hershey Kiss?
2) If you could do one thing, aboslutely anything-no holds barred what would it be and why?
3) Where in the world, apart from the US, would you want to live in?
1. I didn’t really use anything special. I actually use a lot of Neutrogena products. So much I should own stock. I have weird skin, aside from Clearasil oil-free moisturizer, I can’t really use any other acne medication on my face or it will break out. I think my skin is addicted to Neutrogena product. I'm not sure if anyone else uses the products but I swear by them.
It’s been a long struggle trust me. I think my skin finally began clearing up in college and aside from a break out or two when I’m stressed or I got more than a day without washing my face, my face stays pretty clear. I do have my “spots” where I break out more, namely my cheeks, chin and temples, but a little TLC *and drowning them pimples in acne medication* and I’m good to go.
I only wash my face in the shower. Never in the sink. At night I religiously slather on my overnight acne medication. I use as little alcohol products as possible. Minimum make-up. I don’t pick at my face and I’m very particular about people’s hands on my face, who knows the last time they’ve washed their hands and I try to keep as few hair products from touching my face.
And as much as I love the sun, I try to limit the amount of sunlight that hits my face. When it’s extremely hot I get heat bumps and those bitches take forever to go away.
Trust me it was a loooong process and it took months before I saw results. I mean at the time I guess the old “toothpaste dries your pimples out” theory didn’t work for me, it actually burned my skin. And then it took forever for my old acne scars to fade.
I dot on Neosporin at night as well to fade the old acne scars. It takes a while before you see results but so far I'm pleased with the results.
TLC, as many products from your favorite acne medication line, religious usage, and putting as little things on your face as possible is really my only tricks.
OK that and plenty of sex. *lol*
When my skin finally cleared up, the first things folks swore was that I was fucking.
And getting fucked pretty damn well at that.
I mean folks sniffing on me like, "Girl....you fucking?!" then demand to know why my face was so clear when I said "No".
Shit some of the crusty ass niggaz I fucked with couldn't clear up a cold let alone some pimples.
Umm yeah but I kinda filed that theory under the “Getting your titties sucked will make them bigger” and “Getting hit from the back will make your booty bigger” folder.
So results may vary *lol*
But....if you do meet a guy, yall fucking, and your skin clears up overnight, beware.
You might have run up on some "crack dick".
And honey if you’re chocolate, trust you’re a Hershey Kiss already ;-)
2. LOL you know my psychotic ass instantly thought “murder”.
But as many people as I would love to run over with a car that might make me a serial killer.
And I am too pretty for jail *lol*
But I’m such a lame, I would probably travel the world. Spend a few years just circling the globe. Visit all the places I love to watch on the Discovery Channel and The History Channel. See the places my ancestors may have roamed. See history up close.
I love to travel and I could just backpack it, ok well maybe not backpack it, I’ve seen Hostel, shit I’m going to need a real hotel and shower, across Europe and Asia. Hit up Africa. See Australia. Even pack the snow suit and visit Antarctica.
Snapping pictures and writing about it. It’s nice to watch the stuff on TV but I actually want to be one of those people who has been there, actually touched a piece of history.
I know…eternal nerd walking.
3. I would run off to Spain. No question. One of my friends went there for study abroad and brought back a load of pictures and videos.
Drink in the culture, the people, and the amazing scenery.
Not to mention the sexy Spanish men. Come te llamas indeed.
Just the landscape alone was enough to make me pack my bags and leave.
Then I realized I need a passport.
And I need to learn to speak something better than my 3rd grade Spanish.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Open Forum, Pt. 2
PRO asked: Question #1. Were you raised to be comfortable in your own skin, and with that, were you always proud of your rich, beautiful, dark complexion?
#2. Were you ever a cheerleader?
#3. Are you looking forward to bliss and nuptials with JBN?
#4. Have you ever put on a striptease for a guy? What song would be appropriate for your number?
#5. Have my questions made you blush?
#6. Will you forgive me for being so caught up with my new job and all of its responsibilities that I haven't diligently visited my few FAVORITE blog sites regularly? Now I gotta catch up with yesterday's response. Oh, cyber hug me if we still kewl. *lol*
1. I was raised to be comfortable in my skin which is probably why I act the way I do *lol* I mean my mother and grandmother are dark skinned and naturally I idolize them. I guess I didn’t have other images around me, or none that I actively, noticed to change my mind. Black has always been beautiful to me.
I mean I had my awkward stages. I mean I wore thick glasses, had acne, skinny as a rail and generally looked the part of a “nerd”. Well until I opened my mouth and it completely screwed up the image. *lol* Loud, aggressive, bossy and just a plain out right bully.
I’ve been called ugly before. Passed over for my lighter skinned, longer hair friends. I admit sometimes my extremely high self confidence was shattered. Sometimes that still plagues me, little insecurities that I have that I can’t shake.
But you know what? I give all the credit to my parents. As much I can’t stand my father he always told me I was pretty. I was smart. I was better looking than so and so. My mother, when I would sometimes cry when little mean spirited jokes cut into me when I was all alone and after I successfully managed to roast that person to death but their little digs did get at me, told me to never let anyone tear me down. She told it’s me it all part of growing up, she would show me pictures during her awkward stages and I was amazed. I was like well if my mother went through it and she’s this amazing beautiful creature now and I’m her daughter, well dammit I can too.
I mean now I’m at the point where stuff doesn’t faze me. Sure I know I’m not the prettiest female out there, hell I know prettier, seen prettier up close but I know I’m cute. I look at my own transformation and smile. Insults don’t even bother me. I mean I can only be me. I’m blessed to have a wonderful childhood, wonderful people in my life. And a sharp tongue *lol*.
And I’ve always been proud of my skin. I’ve never wanted to be light skinned. Maybe have longer hair after I chopped mine off because I wanted a “box” cut like my older god sister and I hated it the next day and my shit haven’t grown right since, but never the skin. Maybe because I didn’t grow up around a lot of light skinned people. I was aware of the “light v. dark” debates and preferences but I guess it never sank into my consciousness. I like being dark. I tan every summer just so that I can remain dark.
Of course that doesn’t mean I’m not irritated by the notion that darker people are not supposed to have good looks. Or the looks of surprise when people see I don’t have the “wide nose or big lips” someone of my complexion are supposed to have. I remember this guy told me I had a “white girl’s nose” and had the nerve to twist his lips and ask me did I have a nose job. I guess I didn’t get those memos.
I mean I could dedicate a whole blog entry about my skin but yeah, I’m pretty darn proud of my skin. When I had bad acne I used to joke that I had “Nestle Crunch” skin **lol yeah I talk about myself. Call it a defense mechanism or just plain out craziness** and now I’m a Hershey Kiss.
2. LOL no I was never a cheerleader. I ran track but never a cheerleader. I went to an extremely ghetto high school and because I couldn’t twerk my ass like the rest of the girls, I was brutally cut from the team. Like I wanted to wear spray painted t shirts and dukes popping my ass to “Back That Ass Up” by Juvenile. My high school didn’t have “traditional” cheerleaders—we had a strict Pom Pom Team and their whole purpose: To dance during half time. No cheering on the team, no creative cheers, just a lot of ass shaking.
Half were pregnant by the end of the year and would wear their little uniform, now tight around the belly with the buttons on the dukes undone to accommodate their expanding belly, to walk pigeon toed down the school hall.
3. I’m looking forward to the actual marriage but not the wedding. I think I’m going to elope. Seriously. We just set the date and I have been bombarded with phone calls already from family, bringing some new worry in my life. When I’m in Chicago next week, my best friend and I are going to look at churches and reception halls.
I guess since I’ve been with him for 5 years it’s no biggie to us. It’s just a change of titles as far as we’re concerned. I really need to stop calling him a “boyfriend” though I think I get people confused because I refer to him as that.
I love this guy and I just want to be his wife. He knows me and accepts me for all my craziness. At this point I honestly think I will never meet another man as patient as he is *lol*
4. Now come on Pro you know I’ve gotten my stripper-ness on quite a few times. I mean most of the time it didn’t go according to plan, like the time I had a “blond moment” and decided to use the floor lamp as a pole and crashed to the ground with me and the lamp.
Or the time I had on heels and was standing over him in the bed, gyrating and touching the ceiling with my fingertips and tooted my little booty out too far and I fell off the bed.
Or the time I was giving JBN a lap dance in his room and his room mate walked in.
Ummm…..yeah.
But I’m into little things like that. Dressing up, dancing, and stripping. I watch too many damn movies *lol* I believe in keeping my man entertained even if I’m being completely silly about it. I may have taken out the lamp but damn if I didn’t sit there and laugh, got up, replayed the song and did it again. Hell we both were laughing.
Honestly…I use a lot of R. Kelly songs. His older stuff mainly, you know when he was molesting Aaliyah and shit, and I can’t really think too much about his lyrics otherwise I creep myself out and I turn it off because I’m sure he was sleeping with some child around that time but I’ll slide on 12 Play, or R Kelly and get to work like Diamond on “Player’s Club”
A little of the old Janet here and there, some Prince. The freakier songs the better.
5. Yeah a little bit. But it was more the compliments you tossed in there than the actual questions.
Another secret about me: I blush so easily. I wasn’t even aware I even blushed until an old co-worker pointed it out to me and he was a White guy.
I disputed his down until this dude I had a mini crush on who used to come into my job all the time came over and asked me a question. Sure it was “where can I find the ketchup” but I felt me blushing so hard, I just ran back in the kitchen. And then my co worker came sliding in with a smirk on his face and teased me for like a couple of days.
6. I forgive you if you forgive me *hug* I’ve been slipping on my blog readings.
And writing. I need to get it together.
Wow this is so fun.
Any questions?
#2. Were you ever a cheerleader?
#3. Are you looking forward to bliss and nuptials with JBN?
#4. Have you ever put on a striptease for a guy? What song would be appropriate for your number?
#5. Have my questions made you blush?
#6. Will you forgive me for being so caught up with my new job and all of its responsibilities that I haven't diligently visited my few FAVORITE blog sites regularly? Now I gotta catch up with yesterday's response. Oh, cyber hug me if we still kewl. *lol*
1. I was raised to be comfortable in my skin which is probably why I act the way I do *lol* I mean my mother and grandmother are dark skinned and naturally I idolize them. I guess I didn’t have other images around me, or none that I actively, noticed to change my mind. Black has always been beautiful to me.
I mean I had my awkward stages. I mean I wore thick glasses, had acne, skinny as a rail and generally looked the part of a “nerd”. Well until I opened my mouth and it completely screwed up the image. *lol* Loud, aggressive, bossy and just a plain out right bully.
I’ve been called ugly before. Passed over for my lighter skinned, longer hair friends. I admit sometimes my extremely high self confidence was shattered. Sometimes that still plagues me, little insecurities that I have that I can’t shake.
But you know what? I give all the credit to my parents. As much I can’t stand my father he always told me I was pretty. I was smart. I was better looking than so and so. My mother, when I would sometimes cry when little mean spirited jokes cut into me when I was all alone and after I successfully managed to roast that person to death but their little digs did get at me, told me to never let anyone tear me down. She told it’s me it all part of growing up, she would show me pictures during her awkward stages and I was amazed. I was like well if my mother went through it and she’s this amazing beautiful creature now and I’m her daughter, well dammit I can too.
I mean now I’m at the point where stuff doesn’t faze me. Sure I know I’m not the prettiest female out there, hell I know prettier, seen prettier up close but I know I’m cute. I look at my own transformation and smile. Insults don’t even bother me. I mean I can only be me. I’m blessed to have a wonderful childhood, wonderful people in my life. And a sharp tongue *lol*.
And I’ve always been proud of my skin. I’ve never wanted to be light skinned. Maybe have longer hair after I chopped mine off because I wanted a “box” cut like my older god sister and I hated it the next day and my shit haven’t grown right since, but never the skin. Maybe because I didn’t grow up around a lot of light skinned people. I was aware of the “light v. dark” debates and preferences but I guess it never sank into my consciousness. I like being dark. I tan every summer just so that I can remain dark.
Of course that doesn’t mean I’m not irritated by the notion that darker people are not supposed to have good looks. Or the looks of surprise when people see I don’t have the “wide nose or big lips” someone of my complexion are supposed to have. I remember this guy told me I had a “white girl’s nose” and had the nerve to twist his lips and ask me did I have a nose job. I guess I didn’t get those memos.
I mean I could dedicate a whole blog entry about my skin but yeah, I’m pretty darn proud of my skin. When I had bad acne I used to joke that I had “Nestle Crunch” skin **lol yeah I talk about myself. Call it a defense mechanism or just plain out craziness** and now I’m a Hershey Kiss.
2. LOL no I was never a cheerleader. I ran track but never a cheerleader. I went to an extremely ghetto high school and because I couldn’t twerk my ass like the rest of the girls, I was brutally cut from the team. Like I wanted to wear spray painted t shirts and dukes popping my ass to “Back That Ass Up” by Juvenile. My high school didn’t have “traditional” cheerleaders—we had a strict Pom Pom Team and their whole purpose: To dance during half time. No cheering on the team, no creative cheers, just a lot of ass shaking.
Half were pregnant by the end of the year and would wear their little uniform, now tight around the belly with the buttons on the dukes undone to accommodate their expanding belly, to walk pigeon toed down the school hall.
3. I’m looking forward to the actual marriage but not the wedding. I think I’m going to elope. Seriously. We just set the date and I have been bombarded with phone calls already from family, bringing some new worry in my life. When I’m in Chicago next week, my best friend and I are going to look at churches and reception halls.
I guess since I’ve been with him for 5 years it’s no biggie to us. It’s just a change of titles as far as we’re concerned. I really need to stop calling him a “boyfriend” though I think I get people confused because I refer to him as that.
I love this guy and I just want to be his wife. He knows me and accepts me for all my craziness. At this point I honestly think I will never meet another man as patient as he is *lol*
4. Now come on Pro you know I’ve gotten my stripper-ness on quite a few times. I mean most of the time it didn’t go according to plan, like the time I had a “blond moment” and decided to use the floor lamp as a pole and crashed to the ground with me and the lamp.
Or the time I had on heels and was standing over him in the bed, gyrating and touching the ceiling with my fingertips and tooted my little booty out too far and I fell off the bed.
Or the time I was giving JBN a lap dance in his room and his room mate walked in.
Ummm…..yeah.
But I’m into little things like that. Dressing up, dancing, and stripping. I watch too many damn movies *lol* I believe in keeping my man entertained even if I’m being completely silly about it. I may have taken out the lamp but damn if I didn’t sit there and laugh, got up, replayed the song and did it again. Hell we both were laughing.
Honestly…I use a lot of R. Kelly songs. His older stuff mainly, you know when he was molesting Aaliyah and shit, and I can’t really think too much about his lyrics otherwise I creep myself out and I turn it off because I’m sure he was sleeping with some child around that time but I’ll slide on 12 Play, or R Kelly and get to work like Diamond on “Player’s Club”
A little of the old Janet here and there, some Prince. The freakier songs the better.
5. Yeah a little bit. But it was more the compliments you tossed in there than the actual questions.
Another secret about me: I blush so easily. I wasn’t even aware I even blushed until an old co-worker pointed it out to me and he was a White guy.
I disputed his down until this dude I had a mini crush on who used to come into my job all the time came over and asked me a question. Sure it was “where can I find the ketchup” but I felt me blushing so hard, I just ran back in the kitchen. And then my co worker came sliding in with a smirk on his face and teased me for like a couple of days.
6. I forgive you if you forgive me *hug* I’ve been slipping on my blog readings.
And writing. I need to get it together.
Wow this is so fun.
Any questions?
Friday, August 10, 2007
Open Forum Answer Pt. 1
HONEY asked: Hmmm what to ask, what to ask. Have you ever had a stalker and if so who what when where and how LOL...or whatever you wanna do to relay the story great
Have I ever had a stalker? Girl please, I think I have Stalk Me stamped on my forehead. Or maybe since I’m so crazy I attract nothing but crazy guys.
Let’s see my first “serious” relationship was in High School and needless to say after the object of my affection *at the time* showed his crazy side by seriously believing I would love to have his child-with or without my permission-and decided to speed up my reluctance to have children by conveniently poking holes in the condoms and upon receiving my “Aunt Flo” every month inquired why his tacky ass tactics weren’t working-we broke up.
But you know I “knew” he was a little off but you know what? I ignored the fucking signs.
As many people do.
Ugly breakup much?
Ok so after following me home after school for weeks, note his school was on the other side of town and he would leave early JUST to follow me home, breaking into my crib once and WAITING for me in my bedroom because after obsessively beating on my door *I wasn’t home at the time* he was convinced I slipped and fell in the tub *ummm riiight…ok* and was unconscious, he “noticed” my mother’s bedroom window cracked, managed to jump the tall chain link fence and got in our crib. Oh not to mention he would take to popping out the alley like an extra from “Thriller” screaming and yelling obscenities.
He even thought he was going to Prom with me, asking me what time he should pick me up and what colors are we wearing.
And the killing part is he would do this shit when my mother wasn’t around so she couldn’t attest to his craziness. The time he broke in before it could get super ugly because I was sure he was going to stab me in the eye with my Hello Kitty pencil, my mother came in from work AND she was more mad that I had a boy in the house when she wasn’t home then the terrified expression on my face.
And of course she thought I was exaggerating about his craziness. I mean he went to church EVERY Sunday and he was all “Yes Ma’am, No Ma’am”- no way in hell he could be a sociopath, right?
I mean is that good parenting or what? *lol*
I had to go and pick the fucking preacher’s son who was all sunshine and good dreams in front of adults and the devil’s spawn behind closed doors.
It got kinda scary, well for a 17 year old girl, at the time. I mean Chicago is a big ass city and sure I have my regular haunts that I frequent, meaning in high school, every damn mall in the city. But I mean, come on, you’re just out in River Oaks at the same time as me, just browsing in Strawberry? Getthefuckouttahere.
I mean my high school pussy wasn’t that good but shit he made me feel like my shit was on “Titanium” after dealing with him.
I had to go to college downstate in order for him to leave me the hell alone. Oh but don’t worry. Every time and I mean every time I came home, he must have sniffed me out, he would make a point of coming over to curse me out.
I told him to seek therapy many of times but sadly his HMO won’t pay for it, I mean that’s a whole lotta crazy to pay for.
And this is still to this date. The fact that we broke up in early ’01 means nothing to him. Oh and how about he got a baby moms now and that still doesn’t stop him. I’m still the chick “who screwed up his life”.
Um like impregnating me wouldn’t have ruined mine.
Although the last few times I went to Chicago, I didn’t see him but I can count on a phone call from him every few months or so. He calls me a bitch and I just hang up. He has long used up his “Bitch” quota for the year.
And then again he was the first of several stalkers in my life.
*shrug* I guess I bring out all forms of hate in a guy *lol*
Any questions?
Have I ever had a stalker? Girl please, I think I have Stalk Me stamped on my forehead. Or maybe since I’m so crazy I attract nothing but crazy guys.
Let’s see my first “serious” relationship was in High School and needless to say after the object of my affection *at the time* showed his crazy side by seriously believing I would love to have his child-with or without my permission-and decided to speed up my reluctance to have children by conveniently poking holes in the condoms and upon receiving my “Aunt Flo” every month inquired why his tacky ass tactics weren’t working-we broke up.
But you know I “knew” he was a little off but you know what? I ignored the fucking signs.
As many people do.
Ugly breakup much?
Ok so after following me home after school for weeks, note his school was on the other side of town and he would leave early JUST to follow me home, breaking into my crib once and WAITING for me in my bedroom because after obsessively beating on my door *I wasn’t home at the time* he was convinced I slipped and fell in the tub *ummm riiight…ok* and was unconscious, he “noticed” my mother’s bedroom window cracked, managed to jump the tall chain link fence and got in our crib. Oh not to mention he would take to popping out the alley like an extra from “Thriller” screaming and yelling obscenities.
He even thought he was going to Prom with me, asking me what time he should pick me up and what colors are we wearing.
And the killing part is he would do this shit when my mother wasn’t around so she couldn’t attest to his craziness. The time he broke in before it could get super ugly because I was sure he was going to stab me in the eye with my Hello Kitty pencil, my mother came in from work AND she was more mad that I had a boy in the house when she wasn’t home then the terrified expression on my face.
And of course she thought I was exaggerating about his craziness. I mean he went to church EVERY Sunday and he was all “Yes Ma’am, No Ma’am”- no way in hell he could be a sociopath, right?
I mean is that good parenting or what? *lol*
I had to go and pick the fucking preacher’s son who was all sunshine and good dreams in front of adults and the devil’s spawn behind closed doors.
It got kinda scary, well for a 17 year old girl, at the time. I mean Chicago is a big ass city and sure I have my regular haunts that I frequent, meaning in high school, every damn mall in the city. But I mean, come on, you’re just out in River Oaks at the same time as me, just browsing in Strawberry? Getthefuckouttahere.
I mean my high school pussy wasn’t that good but shit he made me feel like my shit was on “Titanium” after dealing with him.
I had to go to college downstate in order for him to leave me the hell alone. Oh but don’t worry. Every time and I mean every time I came home, he must have sniffed me out, he would make a point of coming over to curse me out.
I told him to seek therapy many of times but sadly his HMO won’t pay for it, I mean that’s a whole lotta crazy to pay for.
And this is still to this date. The fact that we broke up in early ’01 means nothing to him. Oh and how about he got a baby moms now and that still doesn’t stop him. I’m still the chick “who screwed up his life”.
Um like impregnating me wouldn’t have ruined mine.
Although the last few times I went to Chicago, I didn’t see him but I can count on a phone call from him every few months or so. He calls me a bitch and I just hang up. He has long used up his “Bitch” quota for the year.
And then again he was the first of several stalkers in my life.
*shrug* I guess I bring out all forms of hate in a guy *lol*
Any questions?
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Open Forum....
A lazy ass cop-out I know I know
But I have no idea what I want to write about
So you can either ask me a question and I'll answer it OR if you want to know a funny experience that you think I've gone through, I'll blog about that.
Otherwise until I go out of town yet again I have nothing.
Ask away. Trust you won't have this chance...until the next time I really run out of shit to ramble about.
Although...I do have to wonder...Do people still put music on their voicemail or is that played out?
Just asking *lol*
But I have no idea what I want to write about
So you can either ask me a question and I'll answer it OR if you want to know a funny experience that you think I've gone through, I'll blog about that.
Otherwise until I go out of town yet again I have nothing.
Ask away. Trust you won't have this chance...until the next time I really run out of shit to ramble about.
Although...I do have to wonder...Do people still put music on their voicemail or is that played out?
Just asking *lol*
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