Sommore is the SHIT!!!

Put it 'round ya neck!!!!

That is all...

What it is, yo? What's up? Can a player just keep in touch?...

Just got back from the club. It was cool, although Shell left me hanging. Me and my girl Toya went to this club's "College Night".

We walk in and make our way to the back and stand in front of this low stage/sitting area. Next thing I know, I feel a dude putting his hand all on the small of my back and moving me up. You know I'm like "Oh, hell no". It wasn't that he did it hard or rudely, I just don't like being touched by people I don't know. So I turn to dude, prepared to go off and see that he's a security guard. He apologizes and tells me that he's just trying to "get these guys through." So my ass gets to wondering what "guys" he's trying to get through. Next thing I know, Chingy's lil sweet looking ass is up on stage with ugly ass Choppa from the defunct "Da Band". I have plenty of girl friends that think Chingy is the cutest nigga with two feet. I, on the other hand, have this theory. I think Chingy looks like the type of guy who would be with his girl in the club chilling. But as soon as a fight break out, that nigga would drop your hand and run like a bitch, yelling "SAVE YOURSELF!!" Straight punk material. Therefore he's not cute to me. He confirmed this by having an entourage of somewhere around 7 when he went to the freaking restroom. OK, I understand you have on a chain that cost more than my education and most people's homes. But 7 people? Negro, please. Get yourself one big nigga with an even bigger gun and you are straight. Hmm, now I realize why they were checkin folks so hard at the door, Chingy's punk ass was there. Anyways, Chingy and Choppa and company vanish to the VIP room for a "Tip Drill Contest". I swear, if I hear about another one of these damn things in the STL, I will flip. I'm so sick of these fools acting like they will respect the girl that can shake her ass the fastest and make her booty cheeks bounce on alternating beats. That shit is old and tired. Quit it! I'm also wondering why Choppa's ass was screaming "BAD BOY SOUTH!!" from the VIP room. Didn't Puffy/Diddy kick that fool to the curb? Eh well...all in all, an interesting night. At least I got out of the house.

Lovers and Friends

One movie (Collateral), 6 episodes of Sex and the City, 1 can of pineapples, one lemonade, 4 drafted blog entries and 5 games of Hearts and I still cannot sleep. Damn insomnia.

So I'm laying in my bed, wondering why in the hell I cannot sleep. And it hits me. No, I won't reveal the reason here, but those of you who know my recent habits know why. But anyways, I get to thinking and I've realized that I have been really blessed to have some great men in my life. I have had some true shining examples of what a real man is and should be. I've had more great guy friends than I can count. The one thought that made me realize this is when I thought about this guy I used to be friends with. Our relationship was so special. I really miss him now that I think about it. He was this regular dude from off the block, straight around the way. He moved in next door to me and somehow we got to talking. We were complete opposites on the surface. He smoked weed, ran the streets, didn't care about school and basically lived by his own rules. But over time we developed such a special bond. We would literally sit on my porch for hours and talk and listen to each other. He would analyze things I never would have thought about twice. He was so intelligent. We would stand on my porch and he would wrap his arms around me and we would just be. There were no pretenses, this was no game to get close or anything like that. There was an attraction, but there was such a meeting of the minds that the attraction took a backseat. Anytime he would try anything, I would turn him down. And he was sexy. But he was on an entirely different level than me and I knew that once I got in, there was no going back. He had 100% tatted on his hand - that should tell you something. So with the possiblity of any sexual relationship being nil, we had one of the greatest friendships I've ever shared with anyone. Over time, we grew apart, he got a girlfriend that was jealous, I got a boyfriend who was the same. We still speak, but not like we used to. I think now I might be a little more closer to his level on the relationship tip, but that's not what I want. I wish we could talk like we used to, but with significant others comes change and I guess that's just the way it is.

This leads me to a question that has been bothering me lately. Can a male and a femal ever have a completely platonic relationship? Some of my best friends ever have been male and I still find myself gravitating towards men more than women on the friendship tip. But, as I wrote in my other blog, I also recently realized something. At one time or another, almost all of my male friends have either tried to make our friendship something more, or revealed that they felt more for me and let me decide what to do. Is there always an underlying attraction when a man and a woman develop a friendship? And why do people say that it can't work? If our ability to be friends is based solely on our gender, or probably more accurately, our sexual preference, does that mean that girls cannot have lesbian friends either? I just find it hard to believe...I mean, one of my best girl friends recently "came out" to me and almost instantly her crazy ass girlfriend tried to insinuate that we had something going on. I would have been mad, except for the fact that her reason for thinking that was so absurd, I couldn't help but laugh. This is what happened:

Me and my girl went to eat lunch at the restaurant where her girlfriend was working at the time. So, we sit down to order and her girlfriend comes over, I greet her, tell her it's nice to meet her and go about my business. Next thing I know, she's pulling my friend aside and acting all out of place. Later, after we leave, my friend tells me that her girlfriend thought I was trying to get with her because I was dressed cute and had on a halter top that showed my breasts off. First of all, am I expect to dress like a bum? Now, I understand how some of the butch lesbians dress - hoodies and shit all the time - but I am a lady, and I will present myself as such as often as I please. Secondly, it was summer and I believe I was fully within my rights to wear a halter in the middle of July. And last, I have not worn a C cup since I was about 11, so anything I wear is bound to show the size of my breasts. Anyways, my friend calms me down after she told me the bullshit that was said and reassures me that she told her girlfriend that I am like her sister. Of course you recognize that your sister has breasts, but you could never look at her in that way. And that's exactly how it is.

So long story short, I believe that you can be platonic friends with anyone, regardless of sexual preference or gender. But are people like my friend's significant other right? Is it only a matter of time before one person is bound to try something more? Is there some kind of rule that says since there is such a great friendship, it is bound to work as more? I've heard that friends make the best lovers, but do we really feel the need to view all friends that are sexual preference matches as potential mates? I'm not convinced, but I'm being nice in saying that this thinking must have some grounds and they didn't just pull it out of their ass.

It's 5 am. I be bloggin, bitch.

Bah Humbug

Someone has been calling me the Scrooge of Christmas 2004. Perhaps it is true. This year I just feel off. There's no explaining it. Even with all the events that happened, I've been in a relatively good mood most of the time. So that's not it. I'm constantly on the phone talking to people whose conversation I enjoy....oooh sheet. I think I may have just figured it out. I've been blaming it on the lack of snow. I cannot remember one year when I haven't had a white Christmas...but I don't think that's it. I think I may just be....lonely. Dammit. Is the feeling better or worse now that I have diagnosed it? I have a few great guys in my life right now, but come Dec 25, there won't be anyone to hold me, no one to kiss under the mistletoe, no one to sneak up to my room and unwrap our gifts to each other with. As much as I may front about emotional attachment (and I will continue to), I cannot front about physical needs. I like to hug, I like to be held. I love to kiss. So perhaps it's not the absence of snow that is making me Scrooge-like but the actual absence of some people that I would really like to have near.

(For Reference) A List of My Scrooge-like Activities
* I just bought my first Christmas gift today (Dec 23)
* Since being back in town, I've bought 4 shirts, 2 pairs of shoes, 2 pants, 2 necklaces and some perfume - all for myself
* Today was my parent's anniversary and I completely forgot
* I didn't partake in the decorating of the tree like I usually do. (I only strung one strand of lights)
* I frown when I see people in those stupid Santa hats

Just to prove I'm not trying to be a Scrooge, here are my...

Attempts to Get in the Spirit
* Watched "Love Actually" 3 times since being home
* Listened to "This Christmas" (the original and only version in my opinion)
* Started drinking regular beverages from Christmas glasses reserved for egg nog and the like
* Drove around and looked at lights in nearby neighborhoods
* Suffered through Ashanti's terrible/horrible/awful/horrific/atrocious/there-aren't-enough-synonyms to describe it rendition of The Christmas Song just because it is about Christmas

So, see..I'm trying to get into it. I heard this song on the radio the other day and it posed an interesting question - "What do the lonely do on Christmas?". I'll let you all know on December 26th...

Number 12...

12. I posted this in this blog because it's easier for me to pretend you won't see it this way. I have become closer to you than I ever thought possible in such a short amount of time. You are a complex individual and there is something about you that intrigues me immensely. I have yet to place my finger on it directly, but I am getting close. You are what so many others aren't. We are so similar, yet so different and I like that. You mean something to me.

These Are My Confessions...

I've seen this in a few folks blogs, so I can't credit just one. Something in me thinks I should try it today. 11 things I have yet to say to certain people in my life. So here goes:

11. I love you. You've always admired me, but you never will never know how much I admire you. You are so beautiful. I've always been inspired watching you go through all that you have and still come out with a positive outlook. I'm hurt that I haven't talked to you in so long and you still haven't told me face to face that you are getting ready to bring forth life. But I forgive that because I've withheld things from you too, in order to remain flawless in your eyes. But I've realized that no one is perfect, not even in perception. And so I love you with all your flaws and hope that our relationship will not change when you see that mine are more numerous than you once thought. I'm scared for you now because I see the direction your life is headed and I know that you are so much more smarter than that. Straighten up, I'm here for you.


10. You are the closest person I have to a true friend. It's crazy because we've never sat down and had one of those heart-to-hearts that girl friends have. We don't talk every day and we don't call each other for every little happening. But I know if I truly need you, you'll be there. And you should know the same about me. You are one of the few people who has remained a fixture in my life. Ask me how and I couldn't tell you. But I'm glad you have. I guess it's true that when it's comes to us we are like velcro " you fuck with me, you stuck with me...we ain't breakin up for SHIT!!"

9. I never wanted to call you my friend. I've always thought that you were beneath me in a way. I was Batman, you were Robin. I shared a lot of things with you simply because I didn't care what you thought, you were like a venting board. I see now how wrong I was. You are such a sweet person, the things you did for me weren't because you were following some orders from me, they were because you were showing me what friendship is. I can't believe I was ever that foolish to think that you were lowly. You are truly special and I appreciate you in my life.

8. I abhore you. I want to love you but I cannot. Just because we are related does not mean that I have to respect you or treat you like family. You are a habitual fuck-up. You have forever scarred so many more lives than you could ever imagine. You've constantly hurt those who love you the most and I'm ashamed that you can claim my grandmother as your kin. I don't want to waste any more words on you. If I see you in the street, it's like that, I wouldn't slow my car down to stop from hitting you.

7. You are so flawed. When I first met you, I thought you were crazy. You are fragile. I trust you. I couldn't love you anymore if we actually shared the same blood. You are my family and I will not forget everything that you have ever done for me. You are constantly growing and I learned a lot about being a woman just from talking to you. You may not remember, but there was one night we were on the phone and you told me so much about your past that I could learn from. I never forgot a word of it and I thank you for allowing me to learn from your pain. I love you.

6. You scare me. I am a completely different person around you. I feel like you complement me in the best way. You are my ocean and I am your rock. I feel myself being molded by you. I'm afraid to let go because I've been so hurt. I'm afraid because it feels so right too soon. I like the way you cause me to search inside myself. I want to give you the biggest hug for being there when I needed you. Not doing anything, just being there. For knowing how to sit in the right chair while I sat in the left and just stare at the TV. For watching me sit there with tears streaming down my cheeks but controlling yourself and knowing I wasn't ready to be held yet. I'm afraid of you because I see no flaws that stop me from wanting you. I have to thank you for never pressing me to tell you what was wrong and never questioning me when I said I needed you in the middle of the night. Thank you for not making me feel like a fool for trying to project beauty onto paper but being blind to beauty in front of my face. I think I'm ready but you didn't hear that from me. *wink*

5. I was a bitch. You came to me so respectfully and I used you. You smiled at me and I held a folder over your face while telling you to lift up your shirt. You obliged. I thought you were the most lovestruck fool on earth and even if you were, I would have been lucky to claim you if I ever had sense enough to. I always thought you had the most beautiful smile, but you weren't popular and I was Ms. It (or so I thought) and so you got no play. I saw you last year in the mall, looking gorgeous. I couldn't remember your name but you remembered mine. I secretly hoped that you didn't remember how badly I'd treated you. You were looking too fly in all black and red, picking out a ring for your girlfriend. I had ran up there to pay a bill in jeans and a hoodie. Our outward appearances mocked how I felt about our spirits that day. You were always a beautiful soul, optimistic and forgiving. I was run down, superficial with nothing to really show off. Forgive me.

4. I don't want you. I'm not sexually attracted to you at all. You are a great person, but not for me. That one night was a mistake and that is why I clam up every time you bring it up. I don't know what possessed me, but I am actually ashamed of myself. Sorry.

3. You are such a blessing in my life. I think I claimed you before you ever really knew me. But you took me right in. You are the sharpest dresser I know (wait, I tell you that every time I see you). You are so young at heart but so wise. You have supported me in everything and are not afraid to tell me the truth. I want my husband to be a lot like you.

2. I've written poems about you. I wish we were much more closer, but I know the blame falls on me. I feared you for so long and shunned you. I denied you. I talk a good game, but I'm not sure if I am worthy to be as close to you as I want to. I have trouble. I struggle with my trust and faith in you. I'm ashamed to admit it. I feel like you are with me, but I'm afraid to really check and see.

1. You are amazing. Such sacrifices. I'm so happy that we are growing closer and I admire you more and more everyday. Your strength makes me want to cry because I can only hope that one day I will be half the woman that you are. We are so different, but I like that. I am honored to be able to claim you.


Damn, that was wild. There really is power in expelling words from your mental, no matter what form they may be in..

Mean Girls

My sister is at that real interesting age. She's in middle school, born in 93, so that would make her 11. It's so hard for me to think of her as anything but my baby sister so to hear her talk about school happenings baffles me. She talks about what girl broke up with her boyfriend, what friends talked behind each other's back and just plain old drama. So today she tells me that her best friend (who is also 11) is considering going on a diet because some little boy called her fat. The sad thing is the little girl is not large at all. So after discussing with my sister about how her friend is too young to be considering depriving her not-yet-fully developed body of calories, I told her I would watch this movie, Mean Girls, with her.

I'm appalled by the TV and movies of today. SpongeBob Squarepants with his homosexual tendencies and sexual innuendos has become a cult hit. This movie straight advocated teen sex, overall bitchiness and segregation. No wonder our kids are fucked up. Look what we teach them. We show them all these images and then we tell them not to do anything that they have seen. We tell them that it is ok to dress how they want as long as they carry themselves a certain way. But then we turn around and act as if sex is a taboo subject. We perpetuate these stereotypes in our minds and pass them onto our children and then get pissed off when they display them. (Let's not talk about how pissed off I am about the "unfriendly Blacks" comment and the Asians saying "Nigga please" in Mean Girls...that is a whole 'nother post.)

I'm just really pissed off that we show our children these movies filled with an hour and a half of sex, drugs, and lies GLAMORIZED and then, in the last five minutes of the movie have the nerve to muster up a half-ass moral and expect them to get it. Sistah Souljah's "The Coldest Winter Ever" had a very sick point at the end. Winter lost it all and literally had NOTHING. But what do most people talk about after finishing the book? "Damn, that Winter was fierce!" "Shit, I wish I had a Porsche!" "She was playin' them niggas like they need to be played!" If people my age cannot focus on the moral of the story and see passed the superficial, why do we expect these pre-adolescents to? This is why our beautiful young black queens end up hating their full lips, shapely hips, intricately delicate hair and themselves in general. Because we show them 2 hours of glamorized BULLSHIT, and when the credits come on, in fine print we tell them

disregard everything that was just shown and do the exact opposite

Well, fuck it. That is too little too late.

EDIT: I realize this post is a tad random, but it is 2 in the am. I'm just really upset with the things we allow to raise our children today. We sit them in front of this blank screen (and I say blank because there is rarely anything of value on) and allow our precious babies to learn life lessons through lies and videotape whether than sitting them down, looking in their eyes and telling them it's ok to talk to us. The days of passive parenting (if there was such a time) are long gone. It's not enough to tell our children, we have to actively teach them.

...Rest in Peace Montez.

I cannot even find it within myself to cry. I am having trouble comprehending all the news I have gotten in these past two months. I just need to have the time to sit down and process all that has happened and maybe, just maybe I can begin to react properly.

100 Truths and No Lies

100 Things


1. I was born in Cleveland, Ohio.
2. I was my parents' first child, they were 29.
3. I've been part of a kidnapping attempt.
4. When I was 9, I almost got kicked out of the after-school program because I did an expose stating that YMCA stood for Yellow Moldy Cheese Again.
5. I was the tallest kid in my class until 4th grade.
6. I'm 5'4" on a good day.
7. I don't fall in love easily.
8. I love hard.
9. I'm allergic to cats and dogs. (and grass, hay, dust, pollen...etc)
10. I've been arrested. Only once.
11. I don't eat pork.
12. My favorite fruit is pineapple.
13. My major is English.
14. I've haven't been out of the United States since I was two. (and then it was only to Canada)
15. I think Prince's "Adore" is the greatest love song ever.
16. I don't like to talk on the phone to people in the same city as me.
17. I don't have any grandparents left.
18. I loves shoes. Perhaps a little TOO much.
19. A good pen makes me feel smart and creative.
20. Sometimes, if I'm having an off day, I dress up to make myself feel better.
21. When I'm home, I hug my daddy everyday. I'm a daddy's girl.
22. I LOVE Black Men.
23. I like to make up slang words.
24. I learn words to songs very quickly.
25. I am addicted to candy. Fruity candy, specifically.
26. I would rather read a good book than watch a movie.
27. I keep things to myself.
28. It scares me to think that someone might one day know me completely.
29. I have natural hair.
30. I use fabric softners to scent my room.
31. I think kissing is an extremely intimate act.
32. I love kids.
33. I've been engaged.
34. I have trouble remembering the names of people I haven't seen in a while.
35. I love to smell good. I'm actually a tad obsessed about it.
36. I think I was born in the wrong era.
37. I could be quite content as a housewife.
38. I'm a punk.
39. I've never said "I love you" to a SO first.
40. I can count my number of "friends" on one hand.
41. I've never been on a boat.
42. I'm afraid of deep water.
43. I HATE guns.
44. Bugs scare me too.
45. I'm an underachiever.
46. I've never experienced stage fright.
47. I completed an entire book of poetry by the time I was 13.
48. My mother thinks I should sell my soul to work for Hallmark.
49. I don't eat seafood or fish.
50. I love football.
51. I NEVER study.
52. I didn't even study for my ACT. (Midwest Standardized Testing for you coastal folks)
53. It takes a whole hell of a lot for me to consider someone a friend.
54. I adore the Boondocks comic strip.
55. I hate to take medication.
56. I am extremely anemic.
57. I cry when I listen to Donny Hathaway.
58. I live vicariously through the TV show Girlfriends.
59. I pray to make a living out of writing.
60. I love to shop.
61. I hate to work.
62. I eat chicken EVERYDAY.
63. I sometimes lie just to see if people will believe me.
64. I admire people who are quietly intellectual.
65. I write best when I am in pain.
66. I have never tried cigarettes. I have puffed on a Black N Mild while drunk.
67. Angelina Jolie is my favorite actress.
68. I have never broken a bone.
69. I can switch my speech on a moment's notice. Drastically.
70. I abhore math.
71. I am an excellent secret-keeper.
72. I love to recieve mail.
73. I procrastinate terribly.
74. I talk to myself. Quite a bit.
75. Sometimes I sing myself to sleep.
76. I am on a constant quest for knowledge.
77. I can't spell out loud.
78. I do almost everything left-handed except for write.
79. Sometimes, when I get a lot of large bills and they are wrinkled, I iron them.
80. I have broken every pair of sunglasses I've ever owned.
81. I believe sex is a drug.
82. It's hard for me to accept compliments at face value.
83. I'm sometimes mean to people that are close to me.
84. I'm easily annoyed.
85. I think every female should know how to walk in heels by the time they are 15.
86. The only makeup I wear regularly is mascara.
87. My printed handwriting looks like script.
88. I love football.
89. I'm extremely kind to people I can relate to, no matter how well I know them.
90. I judge people by how they dress. (Not what they wear, but how they wear it)
91. I don't believe in soulmates.
92. But I am a romantic.
93. I am my own worst critic. Seriously.
94. I like to be underestimated.
95. If I don't make fun of you, I don't like you.
96. I bite the inside of my mouth.
97. I love air kisses.
98. I abhore people who take credit for others' work.
99. I don't like chest hair on men.
100. I am a firm believer in myself.

GAWWDAMMIT, another night in the 'Ville

Now, I am not what I would call an intuitive person. I don't get feelings in the pit of my stomach or wherever people feel those things. But there is one thing I am very good at predicting - whether or not I should go out on any given night. That may seem small, but I can assure you this is the only gut-feeling I get. I can just tell when it will be a dull night, even if it seems that it should be the hypest night ever. So tonight I had the feeling that I should NOT go out. Not only do I have two papers due tomorrow that I have not typed one word of, but I was kinda feeling down and not in the partying mood. So I call my friends to try and cancel and wouldn't you know it, all of them planned on or had already started drinking. So, that left me, newly proclaimed "nondrinker" to be the designated driver. Damn. I was stuck. So I get cuted up, throw on some heels and a nice 'fit, and strut my ass out the door.

So, we get to the club/bar and there is this boy in there straight cuttin' UP. I mean he's shakin his ass on anything that looks like it has life in it. I think it's kinda cute at first. So I watch him for a minute and then he starts doing this version of the electric slide that I made up and taught everybody here in the 'ville. So, at this point I'm like "aww HELL NAW". Don't do my shit in front of me! Only me and all the other people with plenty of melanin do it. OK, we do teach some cool ass white folks every now and then, but I had NEVER seen this kid before, so I'm like uh uh. So, I step on the floor in my heels and start to show this lil dude up. He starts dancing with me and I spin away. Finally, he catches up with me and yells over the music "I watch you dance all the time!!" Word? OK, that's what's up - acknowledge where you got that shit from, cuz you damn sure didn't learn it watchin MTV or the blank channel (BET). Just when I thought he was ok, he leans in and says "Watch!!!" So I turn and watch in horror as fool tries his best to do the stab/clown/shank/pancake whatever the hell you call it. It's a St. Louis dance and it's old as hell to me. (For you non-STL folks, it's the dance in the Nelly and Chingy videos that people do where they look like they are twisting their arms up and stabbin folks.) He was just as proud as could be, beaming, with this grin that said "huh? huh?! Aren't you proud I can do the negro dances? However, instead of talking bad to him (he probably couldn't hear me anyway, with all the music), I just shook my head and walked off.

Two muthafukkin seconds later, this white girl grabs my arm and yells in my ear "Can I take you home?" What in the flying hell?!!?? At this point, I'm straight rolling up sleeves getting ready to show this bitch what such audacity will get her. Quickly, her friend, Captain-Save-A-Ho swoops in and says "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..." and drags the drunk dyke off. I'm sicka that shit. It's an old ass routine and these chicks up here do it ALL the time. One friend gets pissy drunk and either:
1) spills her drink on someone
2) murders someone's foot with her drunk ass two-step
3) says something COMPLETELY inappropriate
4) asks someone to show them the latest dance
5) tries to get someone else's man to take her home
No matter the infraction, their sober (or much less drunk) friend always comes to the rescue, makes an excuse, apologizes and quickly gets the hell away. I'm tired of that! The next bitch that does something even remotely stupid to me is gon have a "come to jesus" meeting with my right fist. There won't be anytime for their Super Hero Sober Friend to swoop in because Imma be like The Flash with that shit. *POW!!!*
Then Imma walk away smiling while Super Sober Friend is left to scoop they ass off the floor. Mark my words...

So, we finally leave the club/bar and go to McDonald's, the official hillybilly afterspot. So not only is their machines for credit/debit cards down, but it takes them like 15 minutes to take our order when there is no line. We finally order and go through. At the window, I hand the girl a 5 dollar bill for a $.96 apple juice and tell her to just "give me 4 back". This chick gives me back EIGHT dollars. A five and three ones...I guess that partly makes up for my club drama.

So, I FINALLY gets my ass in the crib, kick off my damn 4 inch heels and sit down to eat my chicken sandwich and apple juice. Now, I almost ALWAYS order the same thing form McDonald's - a chicken sandwich, NO mayo, ADD cheese. After I ordered, they repeated it back perfectly. So why, when I unwrap my sandwich is there that creamy ass white substance on my chicken??? WHY???!!! Not only that, but my sandwich was on two BOTTOM bun pieces. WTF??!! I mean, damn! Not that the bread tastes different if it's a top or bottom bun piece, but who is drunk back there fixing the sandwiches? This just conforms my theory that the majority of fast food workers are flugging IDIOTS. (No offense if you have done the burger-flipping thing, but this is just my experience)

Once again, ONLY in the 'Ville would a stupid ass night like this happen. I'm off to type at least one paper and enjoy the extra 4 dollars in my pocket..holla at cha girl

Super Penis?

Jack Move from my other blog...

Who Holds the Most Powerful Privates?

I actually did a freewrite about this the other day. For years, I have been told about the "power of the pussy". Pussy was like kryptonite for even the strongest of men. It would make men do things they were not supposed to do and make them act right just when you needed them to. It was to be cherished. Held in a vice grip and released at only the most important of times. If he has been bad, punish him by withholding the pussy. If he's been good, give him an extra serving. When guys try to talk to you and you don't feel like giving them the time of day we as women don't have to justify walking away. We don't have to tell you it's because you are ugly, or smell bad, or approached disrespectfully. Why? Because we hold the POWER.

So I've come to the conclusion that I may have been fooled all these years and I don't appreciate it one bit. I really thought that the above paragraph was true as hell. For years and years and years (ok not really that many, but it makes it seem better), I walked around like I had diamonds between my thighs. That was until I got a hold of some dick. Now d-i-c-k is a powerful thing. Being Pussywhipped will make a man buy a BIG ass ring that he can't afford. But being dickwhipped will make women lose they damn minds. And yes, I have seen men lose they damn minds over some coochie, too, but no one tells them "Now boy, you be careful who you give that penis to, ya hear? That derr is a powerful tool." Like my girl Sommore said, being "dickmatized" will have girls doing stupid, just plain idiotic shit. Examples?:


1) Females that give their men the keys to their cars, knowing he can't drive, doesn't have a license and may have warrents on top of all that. But do they care? Hell naw, they been stuck so GOOD, they throw the keys and say "Fuck what the law say, baby you can drive!!!" (Thanks Sommore)

2) Females that see obvious evidence that their man is cheating. I'm talking about numbers with "Thanks for last night", lipstick on the side of his mouth, condoms missing etc. But they still make up DUMB ass excuses...talking about "That number is his cousin", "He said that she kissed him and he pushed her off", "I musta counted the condoms wrong". Just stupid shit. Condoms in packs of three and you miscounted? Either you are the dumbest muthafucka in the world or you are dickwhipped.

3) Females who say the stupidest line of all time...drumroll.....

"Yeah you mighta been with him once, but he comes home to me!!!"

Ladies and Gentlemen, all of the above are examples of women who have been DICKWHIPPED!!!

This seems to be an epidemic running around. Fresh young bucks with nothing better to do with their time than to figure how exactly to use their piece to bring some young girl to wanna get its likeness tattooed on her back.

Now don't get me wrong, I do know that pussy is powerful (especially mine), but this new uprising of dickwhipped females and young men who know how to sling the ding-a-ling just right has me wondering just really who is in control?


So my question is, who holds the most power and why? Leave your comment on the situation.

***** Yes, I do realize that of course there are more aspects to this question, such as the fact that females tend to have more of an emotional attachment. However, for the sake of this question, I decided to focus on the pure physical power.*****

Warm As the Sun Dipped In Black

Sometimes I watch him in his sleep.

I love the way his chest rises and falls. I like placing my ear over his heart and trying to match my breathing to his to see if I can make our heartbeats match. I like thinking of him while he lays next to me and has no idea what's in my head. I like kissing him on the cheek and taking his arm and placing it around me. I like the way he automatically adjusts and holds me tighter. I like the way sometimes when I think he's sleep, he'll lean over and kiss my head. I like how safe I feel with him sleeping next to me. I like the way he lets me hog the covers. He is beautiful in his alert state but absolutely exquisite in slumber. Sometimes I watch him in his sleep...and I think he knows it.

Thank you for showing me that tenderness can exist within a strong man. Thank you for showing me that there are men out there who are not intimidated by an intelligent woman. Thank you for respecting me first. I appreciate the way you don't hold my flaws against me. I thank you for letting me move at my speed. And I thank you for sometimes giving me that kick in the ass I need to see things more clearly. I thank you for allowing me to be myself when in your presence, and for you doing the same with me. I thank you for showing me patience and I promise that one day you will reap what you have been sowing for so long. You are appreciated.

No Happy Holidays

So, people have been asking why I hate this time of year. Seriously, I really do think I have SAD, but besides that, it appears that a lot of the sad events in my life have happened around this time of year. Come to think of it they all happened in consecutive years.

1997: My favorite uncle got shot and was barely hanging on. This was the guy I looked up to the most, the only one I could really talk to in my family and I absolutely adored him. It was so frightening for me to see this strong man whom I'd always seen so vibrant and full of life, hooked up to numerous machines, struggling to take every breath. I worried about him every day. I couldn't focus in school and I stopped getting in trouble for clowning in class. I visited him every other day in the hospital. I read him poetry, held his hand and told him how much I needed him in my life. He struggled for about 3 months and eventually came out of the hospital, but then he was paranoid because his shooter was unidentified and it took him a long time to get back to his normal self.

1998: Jan 2, I get a call from my first boyfriend's mother. She's in tears and it's hard as hell to understand what she's saying, but somehow I gather that my first boyfriend, Tyler and his brother, Jerome, had gotten shot. Tyler was in ICU and Jerome had already been pronounced dead. I couldn't believe it. I just remember dropping the phone and falling to the floor. I don't remember when I got up, I just remember my mom walking in from work and I was still on the floor. I remember her literally carrying me to my bed and just rubbing my back as I cried from deep within my soul. I grew up with these dudes. I knew Jerome before I had ever met Tyler so I took his death especially hard. He had taken me under his wing and treated me like blood. I called him brother and his mother Mama D. He was the one who gave me the name Dia and was an extremely positive male presence in my life. He was the first guy besides my daddy that bought me gifts for no reason. He used to pick me up everyday from school and we'd have some of the best conversations on the way to my house. This wasn't none of that "play brother" mess kids used to like to play. He was my blood. There was nothing preceeding, he was my brother. He'd known me since I pronounced yellow "lellow" and had been there for me all the way through. Now he was gone. He was only 17. Then on top of losing the only brother I had ever known, I had to deal with my puppy love hanging on by a thread. I was a mess. I literally cried for months and wouldn't talk to anybody. It took me so long to even begin to attempt to live a life of normalcy that my mother constantly told me that she was putting me in counseling or some sort of therapy.

1999: I knew that the one year anniversary of Jerome's death would be hard. I even prepared myself for it. I tried to surround myself with good times in the days leading up to it. I thought about him a lot and made sure that I kept good memories in my mind. Finally January 2nd came and - nothing. I didn't shed one tear. That made me feel so bad and I could not figure out why I wasn't sad. I wasn't happy, but I could not find it within myself to be sad. Whoever said the Lord works in mysterious ways knew what they were talking about. He knew there was NO way I could possibly grieve on the anniversary of Jerome's death and make it through what was to come just 8 days later.

January 10, in the middle of the night, I hear my door slowly open. The head of my bed faces my door and as I slowly open my eyes, I see my mother and my father standing in the hall. My mother is holding my father around his shoulders and he looks at me with tears in his eyes and says "she's gone". I immediately start to cry...not my grandma. Not the one who called me her favorite grandchild and meant it. Not the one who would drive 40 minutes just to spare me a butt-whooping and think nothing of it. Not the woman who introduced me to the Lord. Not the woman who made the best soul food dinners you could ever dream of. Not the woman who brought big ass buckets of chitlens up to Cleveland and talked to me like I was grown as she cleaned them. Not the one who held my family together. The only one who reminded us in hard times that we were indeed family and told us to love each other regardless. Not the lady who would pinch the shit outta you if she even thought you did something wrong. Not the woman who would call you over in a voice as sweet as pie and then proceed to hit you with her cane because of something you did over 20 minutes ago. Not her. I couldn't take it. I got excused from school work for two weeks and went back to my state of depression. With my uncle still showing side effects from getting shot and my brother gone, I had lost the only person left in my family that I felt I could truly confide in. It became apparent that the holidays were not meant to be jolly for me.

So, as you can see, the holidays have not been a particulary happy time of year for me. They have improved in recent years, but there still seems to always be some major problem that arises. I thank the Lord that I haven't had to deal with anymore death, but this time of year still brings a sense of impending doom for me. So there you have it, that is why I am consistently unhappy this time of year. Hopefully this year will be different.

Black and Gold...Wow

Why in the hell am I still up? Me and my girl Cindy were on the phone and somehow I mention Everett (i'm fufilling my contractual duties) and she asks how he looks. So I show her his BlackPlanet page. I start thinkin of how much we used to be on BP back in the day and how I only know like 5 peoples pages on there now. So I get the idea to look up some of my old high school peeps. Being the egostistical bunch that we are, even though we have been outta of high school for 2 years, I found a GANG of folks by looking up Hazelwood Central. Terrible....

By the way....



HAZELWOOD HUNNIES STAND UP!!!!! CLASS OF......O3!!!!

I cannot believe how many people are still on blackplanet like that. Straight crazy. It's incredible how so many of the people still run in the same circles though. I guess that's a good thing...you make the call. I miss my high school. Gettin fresh to deaf (cuz can't nobody tell you SHIT!!!) just to go to class, parking lot pimpin, clowning on the bus, acting a fool at the lunch hour...those were the good old days. High school was really free of responsibilities. So many people are gone now, so many folks have changed, so many people have taken wrong turns. High school was a time of straight FUN, But HELL NAW I don't wanna go back!!! I'm just reminiscin' for a bit...

Shout the FUCK OUTS to anyone who remembers the 2003 Graduation Picnic at Sioux Passage Park!!!! A BIG ASS MIDDLE FINGER TO EAST FOR startin that water war!!! It's all good tho, we're all from the 'Wood!! High school man...hmmm....those were some days...

Which Results In Unfortunate Destiny

I have come to the conclusion that I am extremely self-absorbed. I'm still working out the details on whether or not this is a bad thing. I have this habit of not really caring too much for people that I don't consider myself close to. I have this ability to cut people out of my life. Folks that other people would consider close friends I have no problem eliminating from my life. Don't get me wrong, I'm not hateful, spiteful or unforgiving. But sometimes I think I am uncaring. If I notice that I am the only one making an effort to keep a friendship going, or the only one doing certain things, I have NO problem stopping and allowing the relationship to die. There are very few people who can leave my life and I would actually make an attempt to reach back out to them. I've fallen out with females who thought that they were my friends, actually had them be hurt and I've just looked at them like they were straight dumbasses. No sympathy. Folks call me up and get the ice tone.

Hey girl!! I haven't talked to you in hellas!!! How you been?
I'm good, you?
I'm fine, girl!! I was just thinking about you the other day, remember how we used to (insert dumb ass kid activity here)? And that one time? We were so crazy!! How is your mom?
She's alright. And you are calling me for what?...

That's only reserved for folks that used to call themselves friends to me and ended up not keeping in touch. Acquaintances do not meet this tone, they know their purpose as well as I do. "Hi, Bye Girlfriends" is what I call them. They are fine by me. It's these bitches who call themselves "friends", know my number hasn't changed, don't call, see me in town, smile and walk by, tell folks we are cool and then try to call me out the blue. I'm not one of those people who act like time hasn't gone by. It doesn't take that much to pick up a phone and dial 7 digits, 10 at the most and keep in touch. If you can't do that but still want all the perks of being a "friend" - FUCK YOU. I guess this comes down to one thing - if you aren't in my inner circle - you are disposable, sorry.





Cookies to you if you know what song my entry's title come from.

You Are Never Broke, You Have Your Mind and Spirit and You Can Be Rich There No Matter What

My girl Alicia Keys was wrong as hell when she said that. It sounds good, but when you are broke in all three areas - mind, spirit and pockets...what is left? So i just came back from shopping - something that usually improves my mood, but this episode only left me feeling worse. I thought I spoke on this in this blog, but perhaps it was in my LiveJournal, but either way, I think I have SAD. That damn seasonal disorder that makes you depressed when winter comes around. I'm always depressed around this time while everyone else runs around so jolly and full of Christmas spirit. But I digress...I've been looking for a trench coat for the longest so today I found one on clearance...down from 160 to about 50 dollars. So I snatch it up but I'm still not happy. WHY??? Have I lost my superficial, satisified by material things, get high off of the scent of new shoes self? I hope not, I liked her. I think it is truly because I have been so sad lately, my mind is aching from school, my spirit longs to be at my home with my family and people whom I love and dammit my pockets are thinner than those kids on the "34 cents a day" infomercials. DAMMIT....I HATE this time of year!!!! I'm off to walk around in my new coat and try to cheer up...

Make Me Believe

I'm sitting here with tears in my eyes. I used to feel this way. I have to get this out...

Never thought I would, find the words that could
Stand up through any weather
Something I could say, you could hear today
But stay with you forever
Just when I was losing my faith, and I was losing my way
It came to me as clear as day

Even if I wake up and find I'm alone
Cause the whole world's turned to stone
And my God says it's time I take you home
I'll be happy going knowing that I loved you

Innocent and mild, must be heaven's child
Sent to make me believe
On my darkest night, all you have to do is smile
And you breathe new life into me
Just when I was losing my faith, and losing my way
You came to me as clear as day

There'll be a time
When I'm gonna have to leave this sweet place behind
But baby before I go, I gotta make sure you know
About the joy that you bring to my life

I'll be happy going knowing that I loved you


~Amel Larrieux

Down Here In Hell

I am attempting to study but it's so unnatural that I cannot force myself to even try any longer. Perhaps I can absorb what I need through osmosis. *placing my hand on my psychology book* HMMMMMM...

I dont think it worked...I dont feel any more knowledgable about this shit than I did 10 seconds ago.

There is this board - Havoc that I ADORE. It introduced me to the writing of this woman - Aulelei Love - which I also ADORE. I read her work like the words will run off the page in seconds. She's that good. Don't believe me? I've linked her page and I've never had a conversation with her - not even through email. But please believe I will be purchasing her book. You should look into it too.

What would I do if we were perfect? Where would I go for dissapointment? It is 4:00 am and I have only completed reading ONE chapter of my Psychology book. I need to read FOUR. I hate school...I cannot wait to be back at home. One more week and two day after that!!! YES!!!

I seriously think I am going crazy. I was listening to Badu's "Ye Yo" earlier today, or technically yesterday. I love the part where she says "and you feel the need to rest your aching mind.." That line is my life right there. As an Aries, according the astrology and all that hoopla, I am more subseptible to headaches and the such. A couple of years back, my mind used to race. And by race, I mean there would be a period, usually no longer than half an hour, where my mind would percieve everything as being fast. I imagine it's what being on speed is like. Anyhoo, it makes all my motions seem exaggerated and fast, no matter how slow, everything seems louder and all these thoughts flood my head. That sounds like some schizophrenic shit, huh? Well it hadn't happened in like three years prior to an hour ago. My brain just did it again. I think that is my brain's way of saying "slow the fuck down". But do I listen? NAHHH...

Back to the studying...real update soon.