The Kid (Literally) Is In The Building

Damn.

I mean...damn.

Can't believe it's been this long since I've logged onto this damn thing.

I won't mention that it took me a few minutes before I remembered my password.

So I guess I should give a quick update.

So yeah, I got knocked up shortly after my last post (see below).

After an uneventful (and actually fun pregnancy) I now have a six month old daughter...that doesn't look a damn thing like me.

Ain't that bout a bitch?

I carried that girl for 40 weeks and 5 days, endured 12 hours of contractions, and a c-section and she looks exactly like her father.

Seriously...she did not want to come out. They had to go in and get her. Eh. I don't have a c-section scar so it's all good.

Call me vain but I was not looking forward to pushing her out anyways...I kept thinking, "like what if my coochie looks like the Holland tunnel or some shit... afterwards"

I wasn't too thrilled to get sliced open but once that pitocin began kicking it (I was induced) I was ready for those drugs lol. That damn birth plan went out the fucking window. I was chilling like a villain until those meds kicked it. My husband and mom had to damn near drag me to the hospital in the first place. I had already told them that since she was late anyway I wasn't leaving the house until my shows went off.

That's right- I watched the season premiere of True Blood on Sunday, Weeds on Monday and I want to say that I watched Basketball Wives that night as well. Only after those shows went off did I go to the hospital.

Make no mistakes though...despite looking like her father in feminine form, my daughter is a fucking cutie. Not to talk about other kids (OK I am) but I've seen some little girls who looks like their father and all I have to say is...bless their little hearts.

*sigh*

Luckily she's a great baby. No problems (yet), no whining (yet), and shit she started sleeping through the night after six weeks.

Thank god. The hardest thing about my pregnancy was the lack of sleep after the seventh month. I swear she kicked me all damn night when she was inside me and then came out and wanted to play all night.

However I wouldn't trade a minute of it.

Look at me...all....cake-ish and shit.

Damn baby *lol*

So...um...yeah that's pretty much it, just adjusting to being someone's mom.

Me? A Mom? Who would've thought?

I thought I'd be using someone kid's SSN for the rest of my life (I kid, I kid...yall know I've been claiming the cat as a dependant for years lol).

The pregnancy was so smooth it damn near makes me nervous because I KNOW the 2nd is going to be my hellraiser.

That's going to be the one that I leave at the hospital *lol*

However don't get it twisted- Baby #2 is at least two years off in the future.

I need to lose the pounds that I regained after having baby #1.

Although...I am very disappointed that my boobs did not grow the way I wanted them to.

*sigh* I was in a C cup for all of a week and then....straight deflate.

Breastfeeding did not increase my cup size. All it did was make my shits hard as a fucking rock when engorged.

Although it was kinda cool to watch my cleavage grow right before my eyes- kinda like that doll where if you pulled the arm up the hair would grow *lol*

I will try to make an effort to update this thing more often.

Cheers!

Chillin Like A Villian

As I'm such a loser I've been spending a lot of time, honestly way too much time on TV and Internet.

Outside of my "True Blood" addiction (books and show), I've recently discovered Weeds--I know extra late and I'm catching up on the seasons--

I mean, how come no one told me about this show?

It took me about....5 years to discover this show?

And here I thought Comcast was raping me yet again on the premium channels.

It's like every time I want to cancel some of these useless channels Comcast finds a way to suck me back in.

I was going to cancel HBO after "The Wire" went off...then "True Blood" and later "Hung" came along...I mean I like "Entourage" but it's lost its bite over the past few seasons...

Then I was going to cancel Starz...then my short-lived "Party Down" came on and later I discovered "Spartacus: Blood and Sand" (I'm a sucker for blood and full frontal male nudity)...

And then Showtime redeemed itself with "Weeds"....

*sigh* Comcast...you win again.

I also spend way too much time on Facebook, gossip sites, and other random sites.

Although this "Illuminati" crap is working my last...damn...nerves

People really need to invest in a book and not fucking Youtube!

I mean if the Illuminati is lowering membership requirements...I mean...can I get an application? I want to dominate the world too!

I'll even give a pigeon blood sacrifice.

You know, just to show I'm serious about this shit.

I mean I'll have to negotiate with this whole devil worshipping (I mean I stan for Jesus) but how about I worship the Soft Batch cookies that I be maxing at work?

*Watch some crazy nut bag send me an email about this mess*

It also doesn't help that I'm trying to get knocked up.

Yes. On purpose.

And yes with my husband.

You've heard it hear first: My biological clock's batteries are back in.

*lol* Side note: When I told my best friend that I'm trying to incubate a fetus for nine months...that's the first thing she asked. Outside of..."You Playing Right" was "I hope you're takin' a parenting class- I mean you did leave your nephew in the store that time..."

I mean...I told him not to wander...

We haven't been successful yet since almost 9 years of birth control has my body going haywire.

But the race is on...

Team Baby 2011 is at the starting line!!

New York, New York

Headed to New York for a short trip

I went last year and had a blast--with the exception of the biggest rat I've ever seen in my life trying to waltz its way onto the subway

Probably didn't even pay at that

We're only staying for a day- just wanted to get out of DC.

Folks move around so much I have no idea who still lives in NYC and who moved away.

I told my best friends to have bail money ready--one of my trashy gossip blogs states that Justin is filming somewhere in New York.

It's already understood--I will show the fuck out in the streets if I spotted him.

Who am I kidding? I'll probably do some lame shit like cry and shake in disbelief.

Chicago Recap

My visit home was *gasp* normal

Although I did not get to see my old childhood friend- I am a little upset about that-but duty calls while in Chicago.

Going home (now) is like a celebrity sighting- everyone is eager to see me.

It makes me feel good but at the same time annoyed- I felt like I spent most of my time running from one house to another and not spending as much time with the people that I wanted and tooo much time with the people I don't want to spend time with.

It felt so good looking out the window and seeing the Sears Tower (don't really give a damn about the new name- it'll always remain as the Sears Tower to me)

I realized that I haven't been home since Thanksgiving- a far cry from when I used to run home to Chicago damn near every month when I first moved to the DMV area.

Naturally hubby was late picking me up at the airport- no surprises there.

I also had to curse someone out in the airport- again no surprises.

I have no clue why men think it's ok to try to holler when you're on the phone with someone. How rude!

Upon seeing my nieces and nephews I realized that I am getting OLD *weep sob*

My nephew is almost as tall as I am (he's 9) and my neices are probably a couple of years from towering over me (3 and 4 years old). My nephew also looks so much like my brother it's eerie. He's my brother identical twin.

It felt so good to see those little faces although I don't see how my mother does it-those kids wore me the hell out.

That weekend was also "family portrait" time- my husband's family has a tradition of taking yearly formal pictures.

Everyone was there except for his sister-no surprises there. The heifer didn't come to our wedding so I expected her to flake on the family pictures.

It's safe to say I don't like my sister in law.

Naturally I also stuffed myself- entirely too much- but I couldn't help it.

Food and I have a passionate relationship.

Especially my Chicago favorites- funny I didn't eat much of it when I lived in Chicago- but move away? Boy I have dreams about White Castles, pizza puffs, and Harold's Chicken.

And I have to drizzle everything in mild sauce lol

So after the pictures, I spent time at my Aunt's house since I have a tradition of not attending hubby's fraternity picnic. I have zero tolerance for phoniness and lowkey perverted looks.

Since it's my mother's side of the family- had to keep my purse near me and zipped tight (no shade but um yeah they have roaches. Call it what you want but I don't see how people can live with bugs in their homes. An ant or two I can tolerate-maybe. But a whole damn roach community?! Nah son, can't do it. A centipede in the bathroom had me screaming so loud my neighbor came downstairs to see if I was ok. It took weeks (and a big ass bottle of bug spray and a visit from the apartment's exterminator) for me to go to the bathroom without checking under the mats.)

I am not a fan of bugs (or pigeons) and they were just...everywhere.

So you know I had to say something. I mean for real for real roaches having a block party and shit- I mean go in the kitchen a roach is frying chicken and shit.

It was NOT going to be a road trip courtesy of Tenacious- can't even go.

But since I said something, I mean again, how do you have people (not family) come over and you have bugs just every where- and the bold ones too that comes out with the lights on at that-I mean they were like "shit I live here too", it turned into a family argument and the tired argument that I'm "bougie"

Again, I may have grown up in the project but we did NOT have roaches!

I've been called bougie by my family for so long I don't even pay them anything attention.

Not to mention, I'm "bougie" on some dumb shit- like that day- I wore makeup for the pictures (nothing heavy, shit it was hot as fuck in Chicago, but my usual mascara, eyeliner and some eye shadow) and I was called bougie because I felt like I had to dress up to come over.

Bish please. Like I was going to waste a good outfit to shit talk and eat some food.

Or so the female roaches could side eye the shit out of me.

Then my lying ass cousin, yeah the same cousin I haven't spoken more than a sentence or two in some years, tried to drag my name into some sordid affair that occurred over 10 years ago.

One that I actually had no clue what she was talking about- but of course the intentions was to shit on my "oh so innocent" reputation.

Bish please. It's called dicretion. Use it.

I couldn't run out that door soon enough when hubby rolled up. I had to fuss though because he had my nephew out kind of late.

I'm a firm believer in bed time for children. That's what the fuck is wrong with children today- they're allowed to stay up way too late exposing their little eyes and ears to adult conversation and situations.

Hell I remember when I had a strict 9:00pm bedtime- no exceptions.

But the shit really didn't hit the fan until when we were leaving Monday.

Sunday was a pretty tame day- more bbqs and visiting family and friends.

So my father and I are not talking yet again- or I should say I'm not talking to him

Back story: A couple of weeks ago my father was diagnosed with diabetes (or "The Suga").

No surprise as my father has TERRIBLE eating habits- meaning if it's not covered in grease, salt, sugar or hot sauce- he is not eating it.

In addition my grandfather had diabetes.

So it's safe to say diabetes probably runs in my family.

Let Drama King (aka my father) tell it- he has terminal cancer or something.

Needless to say I was sympathetic but not entirely sympathetic- in fact I was surprised he was not diagnosed earlier.

Again terrible eating habits+medical history of diabetes= good chance of getting diabetes.

Naturally he bitches to my mom (who tattles to someone's mom) that I was so unsympathetic.

To be far: he called while I was at the airport for my disasterous Atlanta trip- I wasn't trying to hear shit at the time.

So on Sunday, I called him and told him I was going to be at my grandmother's house. Given that she's my only grandmother I have left I make a point of alway seeing her.

Now I made no mention of coming to his house-I mean that's an extra trip, ya know?

Besides he always drops my grandmother off after church.

So I get over there- he's no where to be seen. So I visit my grandmother and go about my business.

He calls at the crack of dawn on Monday as I'm getting ready to go the airport talking about he thought I was going to come over his house

Um yeah- when did I say that?

So I turn off my phone- I don't have time for that b.s. right now.

By this time he has stalked my cell phone, left messages on the house phone, and called hubby's cell phone--going into full Academy Award winning performance.

By the end of Monday oh he's crying to my mom that I "hate" him and all this jazz. I mean laying it on thick.

Now "hate" is such a strong word- I don't hate people. To hate someone is to dedicate immensive time and emotion toward someone-someone is often indifferent to your hate.

Have I hated people before? Yes. Do I hate people now? No.

Granted I can hold a grudge like no other however I am working toward resolving that.

Point blank: I just don't like him. My father, to me, is the most ANNOYING person on the planet.

And I do not like being annoyed.

I get especially annoyed when people:

1. Sweat me.
2. Expect me to sweat them.
3. Try to change me to better suit them.
4. Think they know me and know absolutely nothing- in other words, "assume" me to death.
5. Try to tell me about me--like I don't know who I am.

Not only that- he's so arrogant in his beliefs that he refuses to see anything else.

Example: My favorite color is Blue. I think almost anyone who knows me is aware of that fact- I may wear other colors but blue is my basic favorite.

-My father is convinced my favorite color is red. No matter how many times I've vocally told him, sent emails, did a few smoke signals, and wrote it out for him that point blank my favorite color is blue- he has stubbornly held fast that my favorite color is red.

Just the few minor-but major-annoyances I've dealt with my entire life.

So now I just ignore him. I've told him in so many words that I am not interested in pursuing an adult relationship with him- I have no interest in being "Daddy's little girl" and our relationship would probably be much better if he just left me the hell alone--but he is conveinently deaf-and blind-to my resistance.

And not only that- stop whining to people. It's like, I'm a grown ass woman dawg, what the hell can my mama do? What can my husband do? Hell what can my grandmother do?

I'm grown as fuck. And I'm past the age where someone can tell me what to do and I have no choice but to comply.

So he's on black out mode for this latest stunt.

So I'll be the bad daughter.

*dons villan cape*

On The Road Again

I haven't been this geeked about going home in a long time.

I mean don't get me wrong- I LOVE Chicago. It's hard to describe my affection for Chicago but it's my hometown.

I love everything about Chicago (except the weather).

Especially the weather. I've never known 4 seasons until I moved to Virginia--heck I didn't know Spring and Fall existed until 2005.

Naturally there will be stories--two of the "Four Musketeers" will be in Chicago (Me, Best Friend with my name, and ATL Best Friend)-- San Antonio BF can't make it.

We haven't been to Chicago-at the same time- in years. It's usually 2 or 3 of us in Chicago at the same time- and never the same combination lol

I have 7 people that I consider best friends--my best friends are more than just friends to me--they are family. These 7 people are the closest thing to people really knowing me because each person is completely different- yet the same.

Each person is also very special to me.

I know I am not the easiest person to get along with--my stubbornness is legendary and cutting people off is not hard for me to do. I also know that I can be a real bitch sometimes--hey it's acknowledged and understood.

I've grown up with these people- hell these friends remember skinny, awkward, goofy me. Since I did look like the stereotypical nerd (wardrobe aside) I was very self-conscious. I still am (sometimes).

Recently (via Face book--It has its sweet moments) I found my old best friend.

Now not that long ago, I found my other elementary best friend. We connected but naturally time and other circumstances changed things so we're not as cool as I thought we would be. We've talked on the phone a few times but...it's just not there anymore.

Through her I found out that our other mutual best friend was alive and well, has a child, blah blah, however they are no longer friends. Considering that these two ladies were best friends long before I came in the picture--I was shocked. Sure from what I remember, they always fought like an old married couple but I was very surprised to learn they were no longer friends--especially when I've reconnected with one.

Call me silly but I had visions of our old friendship reconnecting as if we've never lost touch after Freshman year of High School.

Based on how her tone of voice was and the fact that they were no longer friends (I naturally assumed that she erased numbers as I do), I did not ask for the other friend's number.

Lo and behold a couple of weeks ago--I received a friend request from this best friend.

I won't take credit--it took a bored night on face book to find the 1st friend and although there were several people with the same name none had pictures so I had to wait until someone posted a picture (I was NOT going to be lame and send messages to ALL those girls fishing to see if one was my friend).

However due to the diligence of another friend from elementary school (who I believe found almost everyone on face book (even an old teacher) from our elementary school) it was confirmed that I was, well, me.

For the record--naturally my last name has changed and I look NOTHING like I did in elementary school. Ya girl has filled up and out--and my hair is combed lol

And yes I was a lame--I was tooooooo happy!!

We exchanged numbers and called each other within minutes.

And honestly--it was like nothing has changed.

We picked right up where we left off (after hours of catch up that is).

It was funny because she commented that I am still the same person from elementary school. She was worried that I had changed but she was like the moment I said her childhood nickname--she began cheesing.

Not that we ended our friendship on bad terms--a dispute over a phone charge meant the end of our house phone. Not to mention we all went to different high schools. And in typical Chicago fashion--we didn't go into each other neighborhoods.

Ok well that's not entirely true--when I lost my phone, my mother was still super strict on my movements--basically I could only ride the bus alone to and from school.

And since I still have a bad memory when it comes to phone numbers, eventually I lost their numbers.

I did meet 3 of my future best friends however- and I guess the rest is history.

However I never forgot those two friends and it was always a series of events that prevented us from meeting up as we became adults. I knew people who went to both of their high schools, but as I figured, they operated on the outside of high school hierarchy (same as I) so while people "knew" them, they didn't "know" them.

I found out why they fell out--well one side of the story.

I have yet to catch up with the other to hear her side.

--I like to hear both sides of the story. One thing I don't do is play favoritism--right is right and wrong is wrong in my book.

I won't lie--what I heard deeply disturbed me--and made me very sad. From what I understand, this friend has led a life that makes me clutch my pearls. It is not the person that I knew--but again we lost touch just as we were getting interested in boys...and life.

And I'm unsure on how to proceed because based on the stories that I was told--how do you simply state "yes, you've done all of that" when most people would deny deny deny?

For example- I heard this friend sleeps with all of her "friends" boyfriends and take some type of sick pleasure in doing it.

And this is among other stuff that I was told.

I had the childish hope of reconnecting the two, thinking that they had a petty argument--but it is clear that that is not the case.

I am excited about seeing this friend face to face.

The Kid has returned to the Chi

Bad Influence

So apparently I'm a bad influence--grown as hell (27) yet I'm still influencing folks to do shit

I fucking guess

I can only laugh and shake my head.

I'm always amused by how I'm a bad influence- yet I turn out better than the person I've influenced to do "bad" shit.

Catching up with an old friend via Facebook (AKA The Devil's Playpen--the playground is reserved for that mess named Twitter) she had to the nerve to say that she think I was a bad influence on her.

And was dead ass serious.

I had to side-eye the shit out of my monitor--I mean this isn't the 1st time someone has called me a bad influence (and actually meant it).

Yeah in High School I cut class- boy I was glad our phone got cut off my junior year of high school because my mother would have been pissed to find out how many times I've actually cut school.

I didn't cut school to go over some guy's house (ok ok maybe once or twice- DJM), to smoke weed, to drink (again maybe once or twice- stop judging) but because, shit, I just didn't feel like going to school. It got to the point that school was boring. Apathetic teachers. Students who came to school based on what was on TV or to show off the latest Jordans. Random fist fights and security sweeps. I was just over it by Sophomore year. And it's not like I cut alone- I always had my partners in crime with me. And if anything I was peer pressured to leave school.

(That's my story and I'm sticking to it).

Yet these broads were never accused of being a bad influence.

We'd spend our day at some one's house with absentee parents and zone out in front of the TV or stereo until it was time to go home. Rarely did we take advantage of no parents in the house- our most daring thing was probably eating in some one's "off limits" living.

Yes I take pride in being, for the most part, a good kid.

Yet I still graduated #1 in my class AND went to a four year university AND graduated in four years with a degree.

However I was the "bad" influence---um your child didn't even graduate!

If anything sticking with me would have at least gotten you in the top 50 and admission into a community college of your choice.

I wasn't even fucking when your child was fucking yet it's my fault your daughter had 5 kids by 6 different men. It's my fault your son doesn't take care of his children.

...but I'm childless though.

Can't keep a job more than six months- definitely got to be my fault.

Yet I've kept the same job for pretty much 5 years- never late and have glowing recommendation (as long as no one peers too hard in my file in HR). I've never quit a job just because I couldn't get Friday off so I can get my hair and nails done. I've never been fired for arriving to work at noon...when my start time was 8 am. I've never been escorted off property for stealing (notice I said stealing lol).

Oh you still live at home with your moms yet can't lift a finger to pay the light bill. My fault too.

I've been out of my mother's house really since my high school diploma was in my hands- hell my room was turned into the "guest" room the week after I graduated.

As if a two bed room apartment required a guest room but Moms was on that fake bougie shit at the time.

I've never crawled back home with my tail tucked between my legs- and I have no intentions on ever being that person. One thing I love about my mother is she taught me the true meaning of independence.

Although, truth be told, watching my mother go through common pitfalls made me really not want to be like her too much-my mother has the worst money management skills I've ever seen in my life.

But that's my mother though- she knows she has bad money management skills yet made sure that I did not.

I had a friend who flunked out of school- bitch really thought she did not have to attend class- talking about she's going to "teach herself"

*side eye*

Yet when her parents caught wind and all but demanded she move her high yellow ass back home--whose fault was her lack of dedicated schooling?

MINE!

I had to let her mother know a few things (I know this now ex-friend lied through her teeth to her moms- made it seem like I had her out on the stroll instead of class) namely- I'm still in fucking school!

Yes we drank all the time, wild parties almost every weekend- that's true.

However hungover or not- I made my way to the bus stop to go on campus for all my classes. Given my colossal flop of a freshman year, I jumped through extra hoops to get my weak ass off of academic probation. I held down a job AND went to school full time. I got tutors. I actually cracked open the books I spend 2 hours waiting in line for. I stalked my instructors via email and office hours.

In other words, yeah I played hard...but I worked even harder.

Don't blame your child's failures on me.

I remember when my ex boyfriend's father basically called me trash and stated I wasn't good enough for his son.

Basically- hell the man called me trash to my face.

Grown ass man bullying a 16 year old girl- how big of you.

Again, honor roll student, respectful, well groomed (OK well my hair was/is still a mess but anyway...)--sure we lived in the projects. I'm not ashamed to admit it anymore- we were poor. Often very poor growing up- although I didn't realize it until later. Yeah my mother received food stamps (well a Link card- same thing). She wasn't out selling her food stamps- she was making sure her children had food on the table since working 2 jobs could barely cover rent, living expenses, toys, clothing, shoes, etc. Yeah the projects were rough but trust my mother shielded my brother and I from project living (although my brother later embraced ghetto living as if that something to brag about). We were actually the "stuck up" kids on the block because my mother didn't allow us to do half the things other kids parents would allow them to do. Yeah our neighbor's homes often looked like crap but my mother made sure our apartment was always neat and clean. No trash in our bushes and in front of our porch. No roaches. No mice. No one had to walk up pissy staircases and wait for shitty elevators. No drug dealing in front of our house- hell our entire block- the drug dealers had enough respect (and sense) not to slag that shit in front of their own homes. My moms wasn't a crackhead- she get tipsy from a sip of a wine cooler. My mother doesn't even smoke- she gets ill from the smell of cigarette smoke.

All in all, just because I grew up in the projects doesn't mean I was black trash.

I remember his father HATED for his son to come over my house (we had a long standing WWF Thursday Night Smack Down date night) convinced that he was going to robbed, raped, or murdered in the three steps from the curb to our house. I couldn't stay out that late on school nights (although I pressed my luck plenty of times) and his parents worked late on Thursdays so we couldn't stay at his home unchaperoned (for *gasp* we might have had sex or something). Wasn't allowed to drive the car over because someone might "break" in the car or "car jack" him for the car (as if car jacking existed in Chicago after 1993).

And now that I'm older I look at it as it's reasonable to have stereotypes about the projects- Hell I have stereotypes about the projects. I can't tell you the last time my black ass have even darkened the West Side of Chicago. I don't even like driving through the Ickies in Chicago. I haven't viewed my childhood neighborhood in years. I claim the '9 (79th & Ashland) and not 131st street, where I lived from age 5-17. I lock the car doors if I even see "SE" on a street name in DC. I assume that I can't rock the Coach bag when in a "rough" neighborhood in DC. Hell in Chicago, I take my wedding ring off when walking down certain streets in Chicago.

*end repressed bitterness rant*

But his father was soooooo extra- like it was his mission to break up us. And his father was a deacon.

Since I was a bad influence on his son.

Now look at me- happily married, stable job, live in a nice neighborhood, has a Bachelor's degree with a Master to follow. Married a great man who's well on his way to a PH.D before he's 30. No children (with the exception of my 4 year old tabby cat), no extended jail stints, no diseases--nothing.

Maybe people are right- I am a bad influence.

I guess when others look at my life and where I'm going, it's just a sign to give up hope and resort to fuckery.

So I'm a big softie...

I won't front...

I cried like a baby watching Toy Story 3

What can I say? I'm a sucker for a movie that pulls at the heart string