Analog Girl in a Digital World

I Feel Like Music Died With You

2009-07-01T02:57:00.002-06:00

[This is nothing like what I had written down. Caught a wave and decided to ride it. Not a day has passed since I heard that I've havent shed tears. I've cried for the loss of such a talent. I've cried because one of my childhood, adolescent and hell, adult heroes is gone. I weep when I think about how he was ridiculed and remained such a gentle soul. I'm filled with profound sadness when I think about how he was marketed. Literally, sold.]

Michael,

I can't do like most people and pinpoint a certain time when you became an influence on me. For as long as I can remember, you've been there. Your songs, your moves, your voice. The moonwalk was (and still is) the coolest dance ever. Thriller was always the ultimate scary video. On weekends, my friends would gather at my house to watch Thriller and "Are You Afraid of the Dark?". Thriller was always scarier. Your signature dance moves were what everybody in my dance classes tried to imitate when it was freestyle time. You were at every family function. Showed up when it was time for the Soul Train line at the summer BBQs. Like the members of Immature were all my boyfriends (which one depended on the day), you were my aunties' boyfriend. And they fought over you. There's a hilarious story in my family that involves my two aunts, a poster of you and a red leather jacket. Let's just say it ended with my grandma's belt getting aquainted with both of their rear ends. Everybody in my family had a story about you. You were just there.

I'm an 80s baby so when I came of age, American had already began to witness your change. All the things that made you "weird" to the world were already in place. Your skin was already lighter, NeverNever Land was just your house to me & The Trial was over by the time I turned 9. But then, even though I was never familiar with the brown faced boy who sang "ABC" and "I'll Be There", I started noticing a change in you. How you looked, even the way you spoke. I was so upset with the change that I asked my mother why that was "happening" to you. She told me your changing appearance was because you didn't like being Black. At that moment I understood you. I, too, didn't like being Black. I didn't understand myself. I grew up in a neighborhood where the only people that looked like me were the ones that lived in my house. And both my parents were old, so Black kids for me consisted of me. I was on exhibit every time I went to school. At one point in my life, I looked my mother straight in the eyes and said "I want to be white." So to hear that I wasn't the only one that thought dark skin was wierd didn't make me think you strange, it made me feel understood.

As I got older, old enough to purchase my own music, I got your "Scream" single on cassette. The B-Side was "Childhood", and it came with an insert with a picture you had drawn on it. It was a little boy, crowding in a corner, holding his knees to his chest, with the words "Have you seen my childhood?" written on it. I must have drawn that picture 15 times. Then I understood you even more. I was a sensitive artist child too, who constantly felt misunderstood, especially by my parents. Soon after, my daddy purchased the two disc HIStory CD and I stole it. Each and everytime my parents would upset me I'd storm to my room and play "They Don't Really Care About Us". I'd listen over and over to you scream "If Martin Luther was livin', he wouldnt let this be!" The outrage in your voice as you sang about equal rights and treatment resonated with me. I'd be lying if I said that song didn't influence my interest in African American history. (And anyone who knows me knows how HUGE that is.)

Then, it wasn't cool to imitate you anymore. Your dances were only done for laughs. The only songs it was ok to listen to were your older ones. I transformed "You Are Not Alone" from a song of comforting reassurance to a mocking endless joke. Your arms-open-head-thrown-back long scream was no longer epic, it was silly. Your flooding pants and white socks? Not vintage chic, they were aging pop star geeky. So I tossed you to the side. I still jammed when you came on the radio, but I now no longer held whole-CD-singing-into-a-broom sessions by myself. Even my mom didn't think you were cool anymore. I played "Heaven Can Wait" for her, marveling at the lyrics and she said it was "ok". When people would make jokes about you, I remained silent. I didn't agree with them, but my silence may have very well lead them to believe I did. And I did nothing to persuade them otherwise. I stopped pulling out my dad's Thriller vinyl to stare at you in your angelic white with the cute baby tiger. You were a forgotten about Woody to my shiny new Buzz Lightyear of New Jack Swing, SWV, Boyz II Men and TLC.

I grew up and renewed my love of all things you. The fashionista in me declared your jackets cool again. As I took back to dancing, the way you stopped on a dime coming out of your spins was amazing. The lay-outs and the jazz dance influence in the "Bad" video made you ahead of your time. Your lyrics were simple, yet uniquely worded, studying them helped me learn to write songs. Your crystal clear tone sent chills when I'd listen intently. Your cape was back intact. I was back in love with all things King of Pop.

Love is a losing game.

For five whole days now I've been in an emotional spiral. I switch from station to station creating my own endless stream of your videos. Reveling in your genius. Wallowing in my sadness. I've been crying like I personally knew you. I've been asking myself why I've been so consumed with sadness. I've told myself it's because I'm mourning such a unbelievable talent gone so unexpectedly. Said it's because although 50 is not young, it's not old either, my parents are both past that. Told myself that it was because of how shameful the way the world/media treated you in your final years was. How they made you more punchline than human. The truth is, I'm mourning for all those reasons and more. The reality is you are a hero. And heroes don't die. Heroes may grow old, they may retire and rely on stories, exaggerated as they're told, to maintain their greatness in people's minds. Heroes are even allowed to get down and out, so when they rise, people believe that they, too, can overcome any situation. Heroes do a lot of things. But they don't die. So I've been trying to think of way to keep you alive. Because that little girl in me that sang "Man In the Mirror" and believed a girl like her in a different country was being kept warm by the coat she gave to Salvation Army, that girl, she won't let you die. She'll forever live in a world where there is Michael Jackson, where every awards show holds the possibility that you'll pop out onto the stage and bust out your signature dance moves; where there is still a chance that you'll release another album. That stubborn little girl won't move from the place where, after you finish your 50 London dates, there's a chance that she'll be able to finally see you in concert in the USA.

As for me, I know being an adult consists of accepting things I may HATE and may not understand. Adults offer justification like "it was his time." So I'll accept that I'll never see you Moonwalk in person. I'll accept that I'll never been in a huge crowd full of people and hear you sing "I want to love you, pretty young thang" and feel as though you meant those words for only me. I'll accept all those harsh truths and more, but I still won't let you die. Your message of love resonates in me. And I've got renewed determination to love better. To love more, harder, more abundately.

Somewhere underneath these tears that curtain my eyes, there is an understanding. I know you wouldn't want people to mourn your death. You would want people to hug their daughters and sons more. You would want parents to think before "playfully" making remarks about their children's still developing faces. You would want childlike love to reign in the hearts of all those who say they are touched by you. So I'll try my best. You're a big part of the reason I believe in the power of music. You can actually say you changed the world through song. That's awesome, as were you. And I'll make sure nobody I know forgets it.

Renewed,
Ashley E.

Where Do We Go From Here

2007-12-02T01:44:00.000-07:00

I have never felt so unfulfilled in my life.

My job is so meaningless, just a way to pay the bills and keep money in my pocket.

I meet the most beautiful little boy today. He couldn't have been older than 4. His eyes were so bright and receptive to everything the world had to offer and I could tell that he had yet to witness the cold realities life too often serves up.

As almost always, I'm at a crossroads.

More later...my hands hurt now. Damn sidekick.

Just Me

2007-11-20T21:26:00.000-07:00

In the past week or so, I've had like 5 customers tell me that I can't possibly be from stl. And while that gives me some reassurance with the knowledge that I don't say "hurr" and "thurr", it also makes me wonder why I never seem to fit in.

I always feel out of place, everywhere I go. I always feel like I am the only one who thinks like I do, the only one who feels like I do and generally like people just cannot relate to me.

It's funny how it was never cool to be different and now that is all anyone wants to be.

Random musings posted from the new sidekick.

I can only be me, like it, hate it or misunderstand me, but I will not change for the world.

General Classroom Building no longer....

2007-11-04T01:03:00.000-06:00

I've had a few proud moments in my life, but something happens to me everytime I think about this:

http://atmizzou.missouri.edu/aug07/Stickland.htm

The fact that within the last few months, I've lost two excellent black leadership mentors, pioneers on the campus where I spent my last two college years is a hurtful reminder that we're not here forever.

How many of us get to do something, be a part of something that actually MATTERS?

The first.

It's the FIRST building on a 168 year old university to be named after an African American.

A BLACK MAN.

The FIRST. A choice word that implicates more to come.

And I can say I was a part of that.

Accomplished isn't the word.

I imagine this is what the term labor of love exists for.

I'm overwhelmed.

Closer.

2007-11-01T23:58:00.001-06:00

There's a quote that's been stuck in my head for a few days now.

"It is when we are not afraid to fall that we fly the highest."

It's a moral that I should have taken away when I read one of my favorite books, Johnathon Livingston Seagull.

It's the same sentiment the Coach Carter-catapulted- Marianne Williamson quoted-Nelson Mandela credited- "Our Deepest Fear" speech holds.

But I like it better.

Once I accept that falling (and also failing) is an option, although not THE option....

maybe,

.....I can write again.
Without fear that words will fail/leave me. Write without fear that my words will betray me and show things I never meant to display.

...I can love again.
Without fear that I will give myself, my all to a man/boy who doesn't deserve it. Without fear that pain and love will once again become so synonymous, so intertwined that it takes me years to decipher between the two again.

....I can achieve.
Without fear that I won't perform up to my standard. The one I hold myself to. The ones others hold me to.

Maybe, just maybe....

When I quit looking down and remembering how the ground looks, I'll be able to appreciate the vastness of the sky.

Maybe when I realize that once it hurts, that's all it can do.

I can live.

North/South

2007-10-27T01:22:00.000-06:00

He inspires me.

He believes I'm great and I don't want to let him down so I try to be great.

I've always had a thing for people who are openly flawed, probably because I try so hard to mask my own imperfections. He is in such an internal struggle and I'm rooting so hard for him to finish on the side of good. I see such potential in him. It's amazing how he inspires me even while he fights to become the man he wants to be. His environment is against him. His friends are a hinderance. And while he's not yet completely free, I feel like he's no longer entrapped. Funny thing is, I feel his partial freedom began due to his physical confinement.

As always, I find myself placing distance between us simply because the pull frightens me. The last time I saw him it was hard to leave.

It's so easy to not write back, to not call. But how do you disconnect someone from your mind?

Why am I always running from good?

Still hanging in there...

2007-09-23T22:49:00.000-06:00

This is not so much an entry as it is a reminder to myself to actually write an entry.

Things are so slow and yet so fast at the same time for me right now.

There's so much to talk about, so much to say, and I will in time...

I need to write in order to sort it all out, but right now I really don't have time.

I'm only at this computer because Larry (www.larrylyons2.blogspot.com) has got me entranced with this damn Jazmine Sullivan song, "In Love with Another Man".

I'm taking my LSAT this Sat and I'm scared. I've never been afraid to take a damn test, but for some reason this feels so different.

I'll be back.

Well, damn.....

2007-07-09T23:17:00.000-06:00

....ya'll made sure I was held accountable.

The thing is, I've been sitting around, pondering, how to return to blogging.

Should I reintroduce myself? Start with my life where it is and let folks fill in the blanks? Fill people in on folks that are no longer in my life? Am I to the point where I can mix my real life persona with my blogging name? Will people read this damn thing anyway? This is why it's taking so long....I'm working on answering these questions though.

But aside from all that, I am here.

22. Brand new college graduate. Gearing up to take the LSAT and hopefully kick ass in somebody's law school. Still playing with love.

Here are the basics as of today, July 10, 2007 (I have to give the date, because you know shit is subject to change at ANY moment!)

LOVE:
There are some old characters, some new. For those of you all who may remember, Slim and I didn't work out. We're still friends though. As of right now, I'm still really enjoying this playing the field thing and just can't see myself settling down anytime soon. *shrug*

POETRY:
I'm so caught between two worlds, I don't know what to do. I've been having a really hard time this past year with deciding how to balance activism and art. It's a complicated mess that leaves me stressed (no wack rhyme intended). More on that later....

FRIENDS:
Some great ones, some not so great. It's really interesting how a simple event like graduation can show you who will be in your life for the long haul.

BOOKS:
I always read a lot, but as of lately (last 4 months or so), the way in which completely (seemingly) random books can be related to my life and its happenings are CRAZY. It almost seems more than coincidence, which leads me to....

FAITH:
This is my fight. Going to a liberal college did not help. It seems almost impossible to be both an intellectual and a believer. Trust me, I'm not aiming for controversy here, this is just my experience.

So, I've got a LOT to talk to you guys about. Wow, I feel better after typing this entry....

It's official.

LOL

Oh, and if you read and/or comment, could you do me a favor and leave me a link to you? Thank you.

I'm coming...

2007-06-15T02:13:00.000-06:00

It is so crazy to go through old comments and blogger friends and see how many people are still consistently blogging.

It's going to take me a little while to remember to come and write in here, but I am determined to do so.

My life has changed so much since I began blogging.

My life has changed so little since I began blogging.

As you can see, I'm still a contradiction.

I plan on revealing myself.

Stay tuned.

Mr. Wine

2007-05-21T23:48:00.000-06:00

Usually, I run towards things I don't understand.

Things are aligning themselves in my life that I cannot understand right now. People are re-entering from the margins of my life experience. People I would have never thought would play the role they do today.

Then there are those that are leaving.

When I checked my cell phone around midnight for the first time today I had numerous messages from folks back at school. I hit redial to the last caller and recieved the bad news.

One of our founders, the one whom we were closest to, passed on.

He helped create the organization that defined two years of my college experience. His contribution led to the creation of the largest student leadership conference in the nation. Along with several other Black students he paved the way for the rest of us.

He challenged me. His presence made me work harder to uphold a legacy that he started.

A legacy he never gave himself credit for. He thinks thought that anyone would have done it, given the chance. He never allowed himself to see how impactful his actions were.

He is part of the reason there is a Black Culture Center on my campus. The reason incoming Black freshman get 4-year scholarships. The reason Black programming can occur on campus.

His death I don't understand.

Death, I don't understand.

Just a few months ago, he was talking to me about his humble beginnings and how Africa helped him better understand life.

I had so much more to say, so much more to listen to.

And the fact that I no longer have the opportunity to boggles me.

I just hope he realizes what he did. How he affected me. How he affected us. What his actions said and how they still speak today.

360

2007-05-15T23:41:00.000-06:00

Lots of times in life we return to things that felt good.

Places we were happy in.

Things that made us smile.

Here I am.

Losing

2005-09-09T02:56:00.000-06:00

she keeps half necklaces with the word "friend"engraved on them
handing over the "best" part of herself
in hopes that this will be the one
who sees
that she is what he needs
she's losing
she's constantly misplacing
her faith
her love
entrusting it with men
who throw her memory deep into their pockets
only to be recovered during a lonely night
she's ready to give
so willing
that she doesnt concern herself with receiving anything
right now
not realizing
that if she keeps handing out pieces of herself
with no reciprocation
soon there will be
none left

Now Boarding: Flight 5127B

2005-09-07T17:49:00.000-06:00

If you are going to lie to me, fine.

Just please don't expect me to believe anything you ever say again.

This doesn't mean that if you tell me it's raining outside, I won't bring my umbrella. However, when it comes to real matters, serious matters, you will no longer be in my book of people to listen to.

"Why?", you ask? "That's the way it is", I reply.

"But Aries, don't people make mistakes?", you say. "Sure" is my response.

However, it's been my experience that people will ALWAYS take advantage when you give them the chance. Set a bowl of free peppermints on a table and folks will always take more than they really need. Well I refuse to have my trust be treated like excess freshmints, thrown into the bottom of purses and pockets, only to be discovered in the washer or dryer, then thrown away. (Like dat analogy? lol...)

I don't give people second chances very often. And I think it's fair. I'm (obviously) an Aries, therefore making it very hard for me to forgive and forget. Personally, it's almost impossible for me to fully forgive those who have done me wrong. So rather than trying to rejuvanate a relationship on a rocky foundation that has been jackhammered with lies, I would rather throw it all away and start fresh - with a new somebody.

So don't take it personal when you get demoted from "close aquaintance" to "this nigga I know". Just know that your lies wrote you a one-way ticket out of my tight circle of people I actually care about, and more importantly, TRUST.

Thy will be done

2005-09-03T01:00:00.000-06:00

What can I say that hasn't already been said?

I don't have a TV in my dorm room so I hadn't been able to watch the footage. And maybe that was for the best. I just got home today and I've been in front of the TV. And now I'm sick. Sick to the heart. It just...HIT.

I feel so helpless. So small, so useless.

I've lifted my hands to my Lord and prayed that his will includes saving as many lives as possible.

I've joined efforts at my new school to raise money for the victims.

I'm working on a plan that will have people from my school use extra money on their meal accounts to buy ready to eat goods for the victims. We'll box them along with cases of water and send them to Houston's dome and to shelters in the area.

But I feel like I can't do enough.

These are people who look like me. Who talk like me. They pray like me. They cry like me. They praise like me. They could very well be me.

And it hurts my soul to see them treated this way.

Living in Third World conditions in what is supposed to be the best country in the world.

Thrown back into a time where we were considered 3/5ths human. What's the difference between then and now? They just found new ways to kill us. Neglect is just as bad if not worse than taking an active role in the deaths of so many.

Where is our humanity?

Where is our compassion?

Where is our sense of community?

I feel like I need to touch these people. Literally hold hands with them, reassure them that not all of us disregard their lives just because they are poor. Let them know that a lack of money does not mean that their lives lack meaning or value.

But my hands feel so small.

My efforts so little in the face of this enormous tragedy.

I don't want to seem dismal, but I'm in a state of disheartenment.

Lord, let your will be done. All I can is pray that your will includes saving as many lives as possible and letting us, and by us I mean ALL humanity grow from this.

Lord, I know my hands are small but I vow to use them in a MIGHTY way....I'll do my best. I'll do what I can. Cast your grace upon New Orleans. They need you, they need you in a big way, at this moment. They need you to work miracles, and Lord......

I know you can.

Am I A Bitch?

2005-08-31T21:16:00.000-06:00

I know my last post was about my "Northern Disposition" (Thanks, X.) and how I wish that sometimes I could be a little more full of that southern hospitality, and I don't mean to harp, but I've been wondering....

Am I A Bitch?

I realize more and more each day that my number of friends is very few. And the thing is, I'm ok with that. I've never been one of those people that felt that I needed to have a WHOLE lot of people around to depend on and lean on and all that good crap. I mean, don't get me wrong, I've always had people I could call when I want to kick it, folks to go places with and have good conversations...but as far as a die hard friend? I'm seriously lacking in that department...

(SideNote - This BLANCO chick is in the computer lab with me talking on her cell phone like she is at home. I really need her to shut THE hell up so I can focus.)

Anyways, like I was saying:

I don't think I have a really GREAT friend in my life. The one chick that I call my best friend really won the title by default of: 1) there being no one else contending for the title, 2) being one of very few people I've kept around since moving to STL. Our relationship is funny. I know that she will do anything for me but we don't have that typical "best friend hugAllTheDamnTimeCallEveryday relationship that comes to mind when most people think of girls being best friends. And maybe that's ok. But maybe it's not.

I know I keep people at a certain distance. I share different aspects of my personality with many different people but seldom do I show ONE person ALL of me. I don't know why...I used to say I was afraid of someone knowing ALL about me, but I don't think that's it anymore. Maybe I've just seen so many people be hurt by those they let in really close that I choose not to let anyone in that close. But like I said, I really don't know. It's just something I do.

I can cut people off without a second thought. People that think they are really close to me usually aren't. And sometimes I just feel like certain people aren't serving their purpose anymore and I let them go. And I'm ok with that. The exception to this is if I REALLY like you. And I don't find myself REALLY liking people that often so usually it's snip snip - goodbye.

Do these add up to me being a bitch? Some people have said that it's good not to depend on people because they will almost always disappoint you. However, isn't it more human to do so? Isn't life about making connections with people? Having good times with those people? Making special memories?

I'm not lonely. I really enjoy my own company and know that if I need anything, I can look within myself and find it. And I love that about me. But sometimes I wonder how it would feel to just break down and have someone beside me to help pick up the pieces. Because right now, I can't afford to.

G.R.I.T.S

2005-08-27T15:03:00.000-06:00

Alright...RBG is the only one who called me out. Which means either you all don't care...*sniff sniff*...or you've given up on me because of my blog vacations....*sniff sniff*....Either way I'm sad....please give me a moment to compose myself..

Ah well! I'm back. None of ya'll black behinds betta come around and be talking about.."Why I ain't linked...Damn...Aries been coming to see me for like a year and she still ain't put me up..That's that bullish..." Nope...none of that....

I have this newfound jealousy for Southern girls. Blame Erykah Badu. I just found her song - "Southern Gul" again and she made me realize that REAL...wait, let me say that again...REAL Southern girls are raised with such culture. Georgia peaches and ish...know how to be sweet with a switch of a button. Raised with hot kitchens and even if they don't cook, they probably know how to do it. Cornbread bodies and sweet accents. Down home hospitality. I've been called a bitch more times than a lil bit and I think it may be because I'm from the North. We're cold up there, literally and figuratively. You gotta be. I'm not charming....I'm funny, I'm nice when I wanna be, I'm entertaining, but I'm also very straight-forward. I'm not one of those people who will give you a sweet smile when you are acting an ass. I'm the chick that's gonna look at you like you're a disgrace to your mother's ovaries, swing my neck around and literally turn my back on you. Sometimes it's cool to be brash, but other times, I wish I had that down (south) home training that told my ignorant side to just smile and nod, smile and nod. Eh well, i am who i am...gotta be me. That's just the thought of the day.

Updating

2005-08-23T22:57:00.000-06:00

Yes, kiss mu ass (you gotta say it like Michael Blackmon...the African dude off Comicview? Ahh yes...) I realize I need to change my links something terrible. So if you see that I don't have your name to the list and you can rightfully say "dammit, I should be there!" or "That bitch comes to see me on my blog all the time!" or some other shit along those lines, shoot me an email and let me know because I'm entirely too lazy to go through and figure it all out my damn self.

Smooches

I'm the New Kid On the Block...Again.

2005-08-21T22:55:00.000-06:00

OK, there is one guarantee in this post:

It will be random.

- tomorrow marks my first day at my new school. I'm not excited like most people (I guess) would be, however I am ready for a fresh start. Let's see how it goes. Wish me luck.

- People are entirely too needy. We are all users. We use this girlfriend for shopping, this one for talking, this one for working out, etc etc etc. And LAWD, don't let me get started on how we use those of the opposite sex. That is a whole 'nother post. It's ok to use people, we ALL do it. Just make sure you give some to other people as well and that you don't use someone so much to the point where they question your motives.

- Once again, I think I will have a problem with my roommate. I will dig up some old entries in a few days to show you all the problems I had freshman year with my roommate because I think that this year will pose some of the same problems. Black parents and white parents MUST have two totally different "Home Training" guides. Is it too much to ask that your panties not be EVERYWHERE? On the floor, next to the sink, hanging off the shower door...? Is it too much to ask that your guests throw shit away in YOUR trash can? I don't wanna empty nobody's trash but mine and the people I have over. Is it too much to ask that you pick up your clothes after you take them off, or at least throw them on your bed? DAYUM......

- Pineapples still rock.

- Cereal is the BOMB shit when you are hungry and broke. Especially Honey Nut Cheerios.

- I'm learning not to think the worst of people because people keep surprising me and doing the right thing. Or maybe I will continue to think the worst so that way I will never be let down....HmMMm...to be continued.

- I really need to title the new spot. (Some of you know what I mean....)

- Aulelei Love's poetry is still amazingly healing. Check out the website if you don't know - sheflypaper.com

- Religion may be the most EXTENSIVE subject I've ever encountered.

- Black people are beautiful. Through all our downfalls and f%$%ed-up-ness, we are still the most beautiful people on this planet in my eyes.

- RateMyProfessor.com is awesome.

See ya next time! Updates will FINALLY be more frequent now because I am back at school and will once again have a computer in my face at almost all times of the day.

Crap List #1

2005-08-18T15:00:00.001-06:00

I HATE packing. It sucks...

Matter of fact here is a list off the top of my head of things that suck:

- Gas Prices

- Bush (the whole DAMN family)

- The Source

- Concert Fees

- Tart Plums (nothing worse than biting into a plum, thinkin it's gonna be all sweet and gettin hit with the taste of a lemonhead)

- Breaking a nail

- R U The Girl? (I loved TLC. Still do. They entertain me everytime I see this show. However, the idea is shitty, the girls suck and the first 4 weeks have been bullshit stretched out episodes.

- People who do poetry with profit as their main motivation. (A big middle finger to you.)

- Having to pay for textbooks that you will turn in at the end of the year and get less than half your money back for.

- Ebay (I got outbid in the last 3 seconds of my auction. I felt like this dude on our cable company's commercial. Homeboy is sitting there, watching the auction, he's the highest bidder on a throwback and then suddenly, he refreshes the page (with his dial-up modem) and sees the auction's ended and he's been outbid. Bullish....I got a cable connection and STILL got outbid.)

That's all I can think of right now. I'm upset because I REALLY REALLY hate packing and everything in my room looks a mess right now....excuse while I go throw more crap into suitcases....

I'm Sensitive About My SHIT....

2005-08-09T18:56:00.000-06:00

A recent disagreement on okayplayer has got me thinking...How responsible are artists for the works they put forth into the universe?

If you don't read the whole link...here's a synopsis of what went down:

1. Ms. Wright aka Apples aka Erykah Badu posted on okayplayer with the title F$#% the police. Apparently she said that at a recent date on the Sugar Water Festival Tour and the New York Post decided to write about it. A tad upset that her words were taken out of context (she said it after performing "Danger"), she came onto okayplayer to offer the explanation that her 45 minute set wouldn't allow her to.

2. Folks start questioning her motives. Ok, is this some publicity shit? She mentioned 3 parts of a song, did she just post this to get some ideas from us? Has she ever even lived within the rules of the GAME?

3. ONE poster called BULLSHIT and compared Badu to the ministrel character "Mantan". Said she was basically pimpin the hood for profit.

4. Others chose the ride the bandwagon and took this as their opportunity to start questining Badu on her ever-changing image.

1st - peace and light. unity. Africa. Incense. Herbal Tea. Headwraps. Ankhs. Five Percent Mathmatics. Candles.

2nd - Dreadlocked weave. Africa. Earth. Peace. For the PEOPLE.

3rd - Big ass Afro Wig. Torn Jeans. Dead Prez T-Shirts. Fuck the Police?

Is this evolution and growth? Is this her expressing her different sides? Or is she cashing in on what sells at the moment?

One thing that kept sticking out was how in the hell can she go around singing about the GAME and FUKK THA POLICE is she doesnt experience the hardships? Shouldn't her art be her life? Art is supposed to be a reflection of life, but does it have to be YOUR life? Some OKPlayers said they need to see Ms Badu out on the front lines with the likes of Sharpton and Jackson before they believe she holds "fukk the police" attitude to heart.

So if art is a reflection of life, does it always have to be the life of the creator? Why are we so quick to want "positive" artists (Jill Scott, E Badu, Mos Def, Talib Kweli...etc) to do EVERYTHING in their lyrics, when if some not so positive artist did all the shit they claimed in their lyrics, this world would be 178973 times more messed up? I know, for myself, I've written poetry about things I've never experienced, yet have watched some people go through. Is it illegal to view a situation from an outside perspective and then write from an inside perspective if you've never actually experienced it? Or are there just certain circumstances and situations that are too sensitive and if you haven't been there it looks like explotation? Ya'll gotta talk to me about this one because I'm confused. For (an extreme) example, if a white person wrote a song about being black from a first-hand perspective, they would probably be BLASTED, because living this life with generous amounts of melanin is a precious and complex experience. However, plenty of people wrote about 9/11 from a first hand experience and didn't know anybody from Jersey, let alone Penn, Ney York or DC.

So basically my questions are:

1. What situations, if any, cannot be touched by those who haven't lived through it?
2. To what extent (if any), should we hold (ALL) artists responsible for the lyrics they present as their truth?
3. If you haven't actually BEEN THERE, are you pimpin it, even if your INTENT is just to shed some light on the situation?

This is the meme that never ends.....

2005-08-08T00:06:00.000-06:00

Ok, so i decided to do a Diggs-type move and have two blogs. Analog Girl in a Digital World will carry on as scheduled, however, those of you that have the other blog address can still visit me there as well. Over there I will be posting more personal entries, per se. So join me at both, enjoy me at one or just leave dammit!

Now onto the blog entry....

LAST...
Movie you watched: My cousin and I watched "Tears from the Sun" on Thursday.
Movie you bought : Oh my...I cannot recall. I just bought the first season of Sex and the City, can that count?
Song you listened to: Right now I'm listening to "Simply Beautiful" by the Queen. Latifah. But I guess the last song I listenED to would have to be "Otherside of the Game" by E. badu
CD you bought : Leela James - A Change is Gonna Come
CD you listened to : Live - Erykah Badu
Person you've called : Craig
Person that's called you : Nia
TV show you watched : America's Next Top Model - vh1 had a marathon

DO...
You have a crush on someone : Can't say that I do
You wish you could live somewhere else : Almost always
You believe in online dating : Nahhh...
Others find you attractive : They betta.
You want more piercings : I've played with the idea of a tongue piercing, but I dun know....
You like roller coasters : Yessir
You write in cursive or print : Both, depending on how I feel, more often a mixture of the two. (You have to see it to understand)

FOR OR AGAINST...
Long distance relationships : I'm not against them but I'm not for them either. If it works for you, more power to ya.
People : I'm for my daggone self. Everybody else is on the "maybe" list....
Gay/lesbian relationships: Whatever floats your boat, but a stick will sail my ship...catch my drift?

HAVE YOU...
Ever cried over a boy : Too many times
Ever cried over a girl : Ain't no bitch worth my tears
Ever lied to someone : Numerous times
Ever been in a fist fight : *smile*

WHAT...
Shampoo do you use : Whatever kind I grab, right now it's pink Herbal Essence(s)
Shoes do you wear : ALL kinds!!
Are you scared of : Insects, death

NUMBER...
of times I have been in love? : Once.
of times I have had my heart broken? : Repeatedly, by the same negro
of hearts I have broken? : I've been told a few, but I don't think I've broken any
of times my name has appeared in the paper? I don't count. I've been in THAT THANG though....
things in my past that I regret? : I can think of a few, but what's done is done. I'm learning that regret is a wasted emotion

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE...
Pretty : From the top of the longest hair on my head to the bottom of my feet.
Funny : I guess. I don't really try to be. I'm a natural nut though.
Hot : Yessir.
Friendly : Ehhh, depends on the day
Amusing : Does this look like some Bamboozeled type shit to you? I'm not here for your amusment!
Ugly : In behavior sometimes, yes
Loveable : I would sure like to think so
Caring : For certain people, extremely
Sweet : Ehhh.....
Dorky : Slightly, but I hide it WELL....

FAVORITE...
4 letter word : Mine
Actor/actress : Angelina Jolie
Cartoon : I don't watch cartoons. But if the Boondocks cartoon isn't all kinds of shitty, it will be my fav.
Cereal : Frosted Flakes
Chewing gum : Polar Ice Extra
Color(s) : Green, grey, black, pink and brown
Day of the week : Saturday
Least fave day : I love all the days I get to live
Flower : I used to say white roses, but it's been so long since I've gotten any, or seen some that I don't know anymore
Jelly flavor : I'm not really a jelly kinda girl
Jewelry : My diamond ring
Summer/Winter : Ugh....both extremes....I don't know. There are things I love about both and the Cleveland girl in me will NOT allow me to say summer....

WHO LAST...
Slept in your bed : Me
Saw you cry : Can't recall
Made you cry : Slim almost did, but since that doesn't count...I can't really remember
Yelled at you : Can't remember
Sent you an email: Anton

HAVE YOU EVER...
Said "I love you" and meant it? : With everything I have inside
Kept a secret from everyone : Yes
Cried during a movie : OMG, plenty of times. I'm such a damn sap now it makes NO sense...Green Mile, Titanic, Sometimes in April, Love Actually, Eve's Bayou....etc etc
Planned your week based on the TV: not a whole damn week...maybe an hour or two...ok, a day...but never a damn week!
Been backstage : I'm backstage all the time in my mind
Been to New York : Yes
Been to California : Naw son
Hawaii : Nope
China : Nuh uh
Canada : when i was two, but does that really count?
Europe : eh eh
Asia : No
South America : Nope
Africa : In spirit. My body will reach the soil of Africa one day
What time is it now? : 1:35 am

This or That?..
Apples or bananas? : Apples...
Blue or red? : Country ass colors....blue
Walmart or Target? : Target
Spring or Fall? : Both...naww, spring....that's my birth season and I LOVE the rain....

What are you gonna do after you finish this? : lie in my bed, play guitar and then sleep
Was the last meal you ate? : Eh? WHAT was the last meal I ate? Lunch/Dinner at about 3pm
Are you bored? : Naw, I got wild things running through my mind right now.
Last noise you heard? : Queen Latifah and Al Green singing
Last smell you sniffed? : My pineapple air freshener in my car...aHhHh

Friendship/Love...
Do you believe in love at first sight? : HELL to the NAW
Do you want children one day & if so, how many? : Yeah, but I wish them suckas could just pop out without the weight gain or pain...dammit Eve!!!
Most important thing to you in a friendship is : Loyalty

Other Info ...
Do you speak any other languages? : a little Español, various Swahilli words
Last book you read? : I'm reading the Prisoner's Wife by asha bandele
Thing in your bedroom you like? : My laptop
Your Nickname(s) : Dia, Lizbeth
Initials : AEY, kid!
How old do you look? : 20, I think.....
How old do you act? : depends on the situation....
Glasses/Contacts : Contacts
Braces : Never
Do you have any pets? : If you count my kid sister...nah...just kidding
You get embarrassed : Hardly ever
What makes you happy? : Children, Music, Good poetry from the soul
What upsets you? : Lotsa shit...too much to list here

Finish the sentence...
I Love to... write a poem that makes me feel purged
I Miss... sitting in my dorm window and making fun of folks
I Am Annoyed by... people who think they know me...jealous folks that claim to love you
I Want to be... a more peaceful person
I Would Never...shit...i can't think of anything...is that bad or good?
I Am Tired of... disrespectful people who don't bow down before me! Don't they know I'm royalty??
I Will Always... LOVE YOOOOOUUUUUU!! *pats self on back* dammit, I sound just like whitney! Say I don't!

Damn, that thang was long! I stole it from sunnchine. she's got a new spot, but i'm too lazy to link. head to "the essence of..." and find her that way. peace and light to all ya'll. it's 2 am and i'm going to bed. this was something to get me back in the swing of typin and bloggin....no more promises of returns, i'm just gonna come back on dat ass!

Dipset

2005-07-27T18:07:00.000-06:00

I'm outta this piece...moving to another place.

If you want the addy, leave a comment with your email or hit me up at soulfularies AT gmail DOT com and I will hit you up. My answers to the questions will be posted there and well as my tag from Suezette, even though she may have to explain that thing a little bit more so I can make sure I did it right.

Barbie and Ken 101

2005-07-26T01:00:00.000-06:00

If you don't watch Def Poetry Jam, don't beat yaself up, because it's been so commercialized most of the time it's pointless. But every now and then you get an episode like last night. They straight brought back Beau Sia, Lemon, Flaco, Shihan (who is SO damn fine to me), Ursula Rucker AND Sonia Sanchez in ONE episode! That THANG was slammin!! Here's a poem from that episode by a young cat named Rafael...his delivery is sick but the words still fare well on the page. Enjoy.

Poem: "Barbie And Ken 101"
Poet: Rafael Casal

sometimes I feel like I'm sittin' in the back row of Barbie and Ken 101
a class we are all in, but never seem to learn from
Some general ed requirement for
Students of American culture
A GE that convinces even the brightest
of young women that sex is survival of the thinnest
and I'm sick of this education that doesn't serve our best interests
my teacher has no face
she is every Revelon model women have ever chased
her lectures come through magazines in beauty shops & add campaigns,
shit
just turn on your tv
this just in, a skewed perspective for todays youth y'al ladies aint thin enough, fellas aint trim
enough, wanna be sexy?
Y'al don't go to the gym enough, cut to commercial, common just come tune
in to our maintenance team, convince you're ugly then tell you how to fix it with maybeline
Perpetually started by these dolls marketed in the late 50's named
Barbie and Ken
hence the
class I'm in
Are you following?
Shit didn't end
They keep moldin' Barbie to fit new trends
next maybe they'll have club hoppin' Barbie
With thongs as accessories
video hoe Barbie
abusive boyfriend sold separately
underaged Barbie
Cobey Bryant included
or 9/11 victim Barbie
and Ken is proud to get recruited
problem is all these teachings are womans decay
and I'm startin' to worry cuz my girl is up front and she's getting an A
this is where I start getting pissed off ok
when the f**k did it become all about
tuckin' in the gutt I gotta get the bigger breast
shit I wanna fit a little better in a dress
so let me get a little skinny gotta fit into an itty bitty
size slimmer so I livin up the chest
please
teacher teacher I wanna give my oral presentation
cuz I have a problem with the class, and matter of fact, I have, a fat ass grudge with the
whole administration
you're the reason my girl won't eat in front of me in restaurants

the reason that she thinks she's overweight in over ten spots
less gut less pudge less lunch less real, more looks more love more Barbie
appeal?
f**k Barbie and Ken
My future daughter will never play with them
you're the reason bleedin' 15 year old girls arms are slit
You made 12 year olds think skinny was a compliment
And now it's too late
I can't write my way through this bathroom door
So I raise my hand in class cuz I can't stand it any more
Teacher teacher your lectures all backwards
You got mothers and daughters forgetting what matters
Cuz above tits, ass, lips, legs, and ugs
The most attractive women are the ones who don't give a f**k
So screw your teachings your lessons and plans
You skewed sick distant relative of the man
Your plan for brainwashin' my baby I reject
I'm walkin' out of this class, and I will proudly take, my F

Yes, this is a replay.

2005-07-12T23:27:00.000-06:00

Blame it on this crazy new hot song I'm listening to - "Pon De Replay", or just my laziness (probably more of the latter)...but I'm feeling in the mood for a 3 question and answer thingy.

Ya'll know the deal, make me feel loved, shoot me some questions, nothing is too personal or too trivial. Challenge me!

Peace ya'll..

Yesterday was good, but today will be better.

2005-06-29T23:43:00.000-06:00

I'm inspired every time I hear Donny Hathaway's voice.

I'm inspired every time one of the kids at my program gives me a hug and tells me that today is going to be better than yesterday. (something I ask them everyday)

I'm inspired by Leela James' song - "Music".

I'm inspired every time I see Slim's lips, kiss him and he moans my name.

I'm inspired by people who are not afraid to care.

I'm inspired when I encounter people with gentle souls. (I wish I could be more like them.)

I'm inspired every weekday morning when I hear my kids sing Something Inside So Strong.

I'm inspired by those who love me and challenge me to give them that same love back.

I'm inspired when I think of how many people I can possibly encounter and touch in my lifetime.

I'm really trying to keep up with my blog, but I've been worn out lately. I'm still around and kicking though, so don't forget about me. I just recently caught up on my regular reads too, so I'm workin on it....

2005-06-27T23:33:00.000-06:00

This is how my car looks. Exact color and year, except mine has a spoiler on the back. My daddy hooked ya girl up with a 2002 Nissan Altima in "Mystic Emerald", the only green color Altima's come in. It looks a lot darker in the picture than it really it, but it's a gorgeous color. I think I'm in love ya'll.....

Stats -
Make - Nissan
Model - Altima
Year - 2002
Milage - 19,300
Origin - New York
Interior - Beige
Extras - Spoiler, CD Player, Moonroof, Brand New Tires

Slim need watch out, because my new baby is on the scene!! Damn this car fits me!

I Think My Blog Cussed Me Out....

2005-06-27T06:37:00.000-06:00

I've tried to log in like 4 times unsuccessfully. I guess my blog feels neglected and called itself getting back at me. I PROMISE I will be updating tonight.

What's been going on with me:

1. I got a car!!! It fits me PERFECTLY. I think I'm in love ya'll....

2. Slim is back in town. Read my previous entry if you need to know how I feel about that.

3. I will finally sit down and be able to finish the entry which pertains to the one in which I asked about black and white teachers.

4. I'm still steady on the grind with these jobs. So you KNOW I've got stories.

Peace. Be back after 9 today.

All I Want Is His Kiss

2005-06-20T00:29:00.000-06:00

I've never wanted to kiss someone so much. And not the type of kiss that just has to lead to something else (although if it does that's ok too...).

I just want his lips on mine. Want to pull his bottom lip into my mouth and savor its sweetness.

Right now, I'd settle for just seeing his lips. Being able to touch them with my fingertips. Lightly, while he sleeps, like I did so many times before. Watch him as he gently kisses the inside of my wrists because he knows that turns me on. I miss his touch. I miss his kiss.

I miss all the things he can do with those lips.

Don't matter if you're Black or White?

2005-06-17T01:00:00.000-06:00

I'm back from Tennessee. As always, I had fun, although the sun was literally licking my damn face the whole time I was there. I will come back with a full update later on...perhaps 2morrow.

But for now I have a question for you all.....

Can White teachers teach Black history as effectively as Black teachers? How much does the ability to relate factor into the effectiveness of the lesson? If I need to clarify more, let me know. It's late and I just finished working a 14 hour day - homegirl is tired. But I really wanna hear your opinions on this, I will tie it all in later, I PROMISE.

Tommorrow I will cry ~ Yazarah

2005-06-05T01:31:00.000-06:00

*I'm leaving for Tenn. in the morning and I will be gone for a week. Trust me when I say I will have NO access to the internet. So therefore I may resort to making a few audio entries via that nifty invention called the cell phone. That is all. You may now carry on to your regulary scheduled blog entry.*

Why does it feel like every time I make a move in what I feel is the right direction, I get my ass knocked back?

I guess certain things do come right on time.

I'm really big on quotes. Always have been. In high school, when my friends and I would write letters back and forth, I used to always put things like "Real eyes realize lies" or "Wherever you go, there you are" at the end. Just things to make them think. A few days ago I was at my girl's house and she had an old ass letter from me sitting out. I read it and at the end, after my signature, I wrote the words "Quelque chose beau attend...". For the life of me I cannot remember where I got that from, but it's supposed to translate to "Something beautiful awaits." I loved the thought that "after the rain, there is sunshine" and all those other good sayings that lead you to believe that all suffering, hurt and pain is not in vain. Where I'm going with this, I really don't know. Except to say this - tomorrow Slim is leaving for the summer. I thought it wouldn't bother me as much as it is. I don't think I'm built for the long-distance thing. I've done it once and I promised myself I would never do it again. Plus, our relationship is so new that I don't know if it can withstand tons of distance before we've had a real chance to solidify our respective places in each other's hearts. I'm confused, I'm upset and I miss him already.

Dammit.

Quelque chose beau attend....(hopefully)

Aries' Guide on how to be a Cunning Pro

2005-05-31T02:22:00.000-06:00

It had to be done.

This is manual number two in my series.

Aries' Official Guide to Cunninglus

Lesson #1 (and it's number one for a reason) - Clitoris Stimulation
Fellas, fellas, fellas. This is the most important part for me. Some guys I've ran into have just thrust their tongue as far as they can inside and thought that would get the job done. No, no, and more NO. Penetration is EXCELLENT. With your dick. But when it comes to your tongue, focus on stimulating my clit, then explore as you see fit.

Lesson #2 - Please, NO TEETH.
Contrary to the popular phrase of "eating out", I would prefer if your teeth had as little contact as possible with my clit. I've heard some females say they enjoy a very gentle bite if done correctly. I ain't the one. Keep them damn teeth away! No matter how rough your girl likes intercourse unless you are ABSOLUTELY positively sure that she will enjoy a bite, keep those damn teeth to yourself.

Lesson #3 - Yes, we LOVE it when you kiss both sets of lips.
The lips located between my chin and my nose aren't the only set on my body. Please do not neglect the labia. While clit stimulation is a MUST for me to fully enjoy myself, this is not to say that all other parts should be neglected. Oral sex with simply the basics is like sex without foreplay to me. While it may get the job done, it's (almost) always much more pleasurable if you take your time and enjoy all that is placed before you. So kiss them, suck them, lick all around them...they are your friends.

Lesson #4 - Variety Pack.
As much as I love to see a man on his knees *wicked smile*, that shit can get boring. Please do not forget that oral sex is just that - SEX. And just like intercourse, one position gets boring when done repeatedly. Let me have a seat in a chair, on a sink, on your face. Switch the shit up. Keep it interesting. For me and for you.

Lesson #5 - Know your woman.
True Story - I swear he had good intentions. At least I think he did. He told me to close my eyes. I did. I heard some rattling by the bed. Sounded like a bucket. Then suddenly I felt his tongue go back to work. Good shit. One second later I felt something hard and compact slip inside me. Next thing I know the intruder was squarely on my clit and numbing my shit quicker than Novacaine. Quicker than you can say "Muthafucka, say what?!" my ass was standing up, squatting, trying to get the feeling back in my vagina.

Some girls I know have said that ice added something to their oral experience. For me that shit does nothing. Ice numbs shit. That's why you put it on injuries - to take away the feeling. I'm not trying to numb my damn vagina, I'm trying to feel everything I can. But like I said, that's my preference. Learn your woman's likes and dislikes before you try to whip some shit out that could get you gone off on.

Along with knowing your woman's individual needs, you need to make sure you have an understanding of her body as a woman overall. Walk with me, talk with me..

*wavy lines*
Hotel room 143. I'm seated on the edge of the bed, he's between my legs, straight feasting. My legs are over his shoulders and he's gripping the outside of my thighs. Then he lifts me up while simultaneously standing, all while ensuring his tongue stays inside of me. I'm about to lose it. Before I could grab the back of his head and scream to my Maker.....my head was two inches from the fuckin floor. This nigga had pulled some Sex Olympic type shit and flipped me upside down all without pausing what he was doing. I grabbed ahold of the back of his thighs and enjoyed the view. (think, ya'll, think...what do you presume I was looking at?) That shit was sexy as hell for all of 4.45 seconds. Then all the blood started to rush to my head and I had to tell that nagga to put me right side up.

Ok, ok it was probably longer than 4.45 seconds. But ya'll get the point. That's why white kids' faces get red when they hang upside down on the monkey bars. All the blood rushes straight there. And if all the blood is rushing to the head, that means other places that were perhaps enlarged, aroused and previously stimulated have lost that wonderful circulation and that may force you to start from square one. Learn anatomy and if that sounds like some shit you wanna try, consider challenging your girl to a headstand contest to check beforehand just how long she can hang, pun intended.

Alright, there you have it. Some absolute essentials for me to have a good time. I'm sure there are many more, but this bitch is tired.

Ladies, feel free to add your necessary techniques. And fellas, shut up and stay the fuck outta this one. Just kidding, you know I love ya'll. You all gon' ahead and let me know your essential rules for excellent fellatio.

Stiletto Pumps My Ass

2005-05-27T22:40:00.001-06:00

There is no such damn thing as comfortable heels. In fact, that shit right there is an oxymoron. Don't use it. I, too was mislead into thinking that if I only found the right high heeled shoe that they would earn the label of "comfortable". Hell naw, think again.

Like I said in my offical "comeback entry" (check one below if you missed it), I am now holding down three jobs. The first one is a summer job I had last year. It's basically a reading enrichment program for African American kids. It's a great program and I encourage everyone who has kids to enroll them. But more on that later. The second job is my first ever "real job". By real job, I mean one where you have to clock in/clock out, "having fun" is NOT officially in the job description and the higher-ups are directly related to me. So anyway, I work at a clothing store. love it, love it, LOVE IT. I get to tell people what to wear, walk around and look cute all day and basically give people my fashion advice and get paid for it. Plus I get a discount at a place where I shop anyway. So what's the problem? (Come on now, you know there had to be a catch...) Like I said, I get to walk around and look cute. There lies the trouble. Looking cute involves cute shoes. ALL of my dress shoes (except ONE PAIR) are at least 2 1/2 inch heels. I was inclined to even call a pair of 3 inch BCBGs comfortable until I wore them joints to work one day. Ya'll, I was in TEARS. A bitch had to take TWO breaks from walking to the car when I got off and I only parked a few hundred feet away. So again today I stole a pair of my auntie's shoes which are extremely comfortable under normal circumstances and thought I could get away with rocking those for four hours (which turned out to be more like 5 1/2). NOT so. I'm not in as much pain as the first time, but I'll be damned if the balls of my feet don't feel like I've been walking a wire tightrope for a few days. FUCK HEELS. I'm going shoe shopping first thing tommorow and for the FIRST time, this bitch is going to......

buy some fuckin' flats.

Pour the Cham-PaN-Ya (Champagne), I'm BACK!!!

2005-05-26T18:51:00.000-06:00

Man, it feels like it's been so LOOooOoNG!! I promise you I've been blogging for like a week in my head. I just haven't had time to sit down and write a real entry. I've been thinking that my first entry after my little hiatus should be all meaningful and full of that shit called substance, but I don't even feel like it right now. Watch my ass be back on later on tonight with some real shit to say. But for right now, I guess I can give you one of my infamous (how'd they get to be infamous, you ask? Because I called them infamous dammit!) blog teasers (coined by Lawda).....

- Me and Slim are doing fine. We've worked through the speedbumps we kept hitting earlier on and are now getting along VERY well. (If you catch my drift....*smile*)

- Fuck Cassidy. I'm the hustla! I've been working/on the grind lately with two jobs and a part time gig as my aunt's "manager". I'll explain that shit later.

- My transfer is going well and if God loves me I won't have to return to the hellhole called the 'Ville in the fall.

- Walk....no RUN and get that new Mint Condition CD "Living the Luxury Brown". The shit is the GRITS, you hear me?? You won't be disappointed. So long as your favorite artist isn't Omarion.

- I get paid tomorrow. What can be better than that?

- I've been reading your blogs. I don't always have time to comment and those blogs I did get to comment on got some extra short words from me. I'll be back to giving ya'll my 15 cents real soon.

Blessings, hugs from those you love and plenty of DOLLAR BILLS. <-----my wishes for you all.

This is a damn test

2005-05-19T17:48:00.000-06:00

Did my damn blog just disappear? Testing, mic check one two one two.

This time it's for real

2005-05-10T00:22:00.000-06:00

I haven't lost my sense of humor. I swear I haven't. It's somewhere around here, it's just a little bit hidden, that's all....

I know I haven't been blogging as much lately. I've been somewhat uninspired. Occasionally I get in these depressed states that last for a few weeks and it appears that I'm in one now.

There's a lot of things going on internally with me right now and I need to get them sorted out before I go and supress them like I'm so capable of doing. I actually started a blog about all of it but it started turning out to be a big jumbled mess so I came to the conclusion that I'm just gonna.....

Take a few days, a week or two and just gather myself. Blogging is good, but I miss putting pen on paper. So I'm gonna write down my thoughts, fast for a few days and pray more often. I just need some me time. I'll be checkin in with the blogs of you all, but there won't be anything new in here for a little bit.

Don't forget about me while I'm gone. Blessings.

I'll be back. (oh, and when I come back, I promise to update my links and shit and maybe even get a new layout. *wink* love ya!)

'Round Here

2005-05-08T20:32:00.000-06:00

I'm trying not to do another "blog teaser", as Lawda calls them, however, I feel a lil bad when I neglect my blog and when I get a chance to check in, I try to. So what's been up? I'll try to do a lil run-down:

1. Went to ATL Friday-Sunday
I really love the A. I really wanted to go there with a special someone, but it seems folks want to act crazy...sOoOo that may be postponed. Anyways, I had a great time in Atlanta, picked up some clothes (of course) and scoped some new fashions, which is always fun.

2. Emotional Rollercoaster
Most of ya'll know that I was ready to let Slim go like some shoes from two seasons ago. However, he apologized, explained some reasoning behind his actions and we almost got back on track. However, lately I've been feeling like he's been doing me the same way I was doing him in the beginning - keeping me at arm's length, playing the hot and cold game - and I don't like that shit one bit. I don't know what to do with him, the shit's too complicated for my tastes, so what the fuque keeps me around him? It's not all bad if I'm making it sound that way but I'm not one for games.

3. SchOoOoOoL's Out For Tha Summa!!!
'Nuff Said.'

4. Gawwdamn abstinence is hard.
I don't even know what to say on that one. It's too much, I'm too tense, I need a release....

5. We're always giving something up.
I'm starting to see that in a few of my relationships with certain people I'm always the one giving up the most. I find myself conceding on little things that shouldn't even matter but somehow they end up bothering me. I don't know what I plan on doing about that because in every relationship (not only romantic ones), there's a sort of give and take. I guess I just have to decide how much I'm willing to give.

There it is. The synopsis of topics to come. Blessings.

Assata is welcome in my house

2005-05-03T13:14:00.000-06:00

$1 million reward posted in 1973 crime

The Associated Press

EWING TOWNSHIP, N.J. — Authorities posted a $1 million reward Monday for a Black Liberation Army member convicted of fatally shooting a New Jersey state trooper 32 years ago.

Joanne Chesimard escaped from a women's prison in Hunterdon County in 1979 after she was convicted of the 1973 slaying of Trooper Werner Foerster. She made her way to Cuba and was granted political asylum.

New Jersey officials have failed to persuade Cuba to hand over Chesimard, 57, who goes by the name Assata Shakur. Foerster responded as backup after another trooper stopped Chesimard and two companions for a faulty tail light on the New Jersey Turnpike on May 2, 1973.

Shots soon rang out and Foerster was hit. As he lay on the ground, authorities said, Chesimard took his gun and fatally shot him in the head and neck.

A New York television station taped an interview with Chesimard in Havana in 1998, in which she denied killing Foster and said she lived in fear of the New Jersey State Police. New Jersey officials said she was lying.

________________________

Why can't they leave her the hell alone? If this is their way of commorating the anniversary of the supposed "shoot-out", that is truly sad. This is truly some cowboy mentality type shit and placing a million dollar bounty on her is ridiculous. There are so many criminals out there who they could be focusing on instead. This really makes me sick. I've read the facts of this case numerous times since the age of 12 and they have NEVER added up to me. The government has tried so many times to persecute Assata and each time their charges have not been founded in truth. Each time, sometimes after several appeals, she was aquitted. You would think by now they would let it be. And they wonder why she hasn't returned to the States. Many have said that her case is long forgotten and her name is probably not even a cause of concern anymore. This proves just how wrong those statements are. Are we moving forward at all?

The End of Slim and Aries. I Kid You Not.

2005-05-01T23:58:00.000-06:00

Alright, here we go.

I don't mean to hit ya'll off with "blog-teasers" as Lawda calls them. But, I be wantin' ya'll to know I haven't dropped off the face of the planet. (How ya like dem ebonics?)

Anyways - the grass around the bush is flat so let me get to it.
WARNING: This is some of the PETTIEST shit EVER. Seriously, this situation is fucking sad and so pitiful that it wouldn't have even made my blog if me and Slim didn't fall out because of it.

Apparently on Wednesday Slim heard some gossip about me. It wasn't anything that directly pertained to our relationship or even something that would affect it in ANY way. However, his problem was that it was almost the exact opposite of what I told him. He reasoned that since this topic came up in one of our very first conversations how could he be sure that I hadn't lied about anything else? Immediately I had problems with this.

Number 1: The way he brought it to me.
Number 2: The fact that it appeared that he believed some other bitches over me.
Number 3: This shit had NOTHING to do with us and isn't that gawwdamn serious.

(This is the part where I try to transcribe our IM conversation as close to the original as I can from memory. Green= him, other color= me)

So I heard you are a liar.
OK
So you are?
I don't even know what you are talking about...
(Insert some fake ass gossip here...blahzay skip blah blah blah)
WTF? Who told you that?

This is where I tried for close to 5 minutes to get him to tell me where he heard this mess. He wouldn't give me a name which pissed me off even more. Eventually it came out that he heard it from someone who heard it from someone. Well, I figured out who the person was and I was HOT. I don't think I can convey here just HOW much I abhor people who lie about me, especially behind my back. I'll tell anyone, I would rather have someone listen to everything I have to say about a particular situation and call me a godforsaken liar to my face, than to go around saying untrue shit like it's gospel without EVER talking to me about the situation at hand. I was so damn pissed off, ya'll! Seriously, I was ready to WALK over this girl's house just to whoop her ass. I. KID. YOU. NOT. And homegirl lives at least a mile and a half away.

Anyways, I ended up speaking to her and it turns out that (as is usually the case with gossip) it was all some shit that got misconstrued. Now, I know some of you all are like "how you gon' believe that bitch, Aries? But, for real, for as much as me and her have had our minor problems in the past, we are a LOT alike. Neither of us are the type to say some shit and not own up to it. Matter of fact, the first words out of my mouth when I called her where "I have a problem. I've heard some shit is going around and I need to know where it's coming from so I can cut it short." Her first words? "I'll tell you exactly who said it. It was me. However..." Now, what's funny about this is that before I could even tell WHO I heard the information from, she said "I told that boy..." I picked up on that immediately. Remember, he played SUPER dumb when I asked him who told him the mess in the first place. If I told you all the extent of the bullshit I went through in order to make sure I had the right person, you all might tell me to audition for some scriptwriting on "Law and Order" or some shit. But I digress....me and the girl actually had an EXTREMELY civil conversation. We actually got some stuff cleared up from prior misunderstandings and we both left the conversation feeling better. Which kinda left me ALL offbalance because I expected her to come at me all wrong, especially with the lies she supposedly told. I was ready to kick some ass, for real. That's like being all hot and bothered and having your man be 200 miles away. Like....

DAMN. Now what?

You feel me?

After I got through with her I called up Slim. I ask him if he ever talked directly to the girl. He says no. I ask him if he knows her. Again, no. I ask him ONE more time if he sure that he didn't talk to her. He says she's sure. So I ask him why she IMMEDIATELY said that she told that boy instead of saying "i said", or "what I told her was...". He acted ALL stupid and I let the shit go. At this point, I'll still a little pissed and feeling like he was trying to conduct some dumb ass background checks on me that backfired on his ass. A few minutes go by without any convo and I tell him I didn't appreciate the way he brought that shit to me. He asked what I was talking about.

Umm, when you said "so I heard you were a fuckin' liar". (sidenote: as much as I use foul language in my blog, I hardly ever curse in normal convo unless I'm angry and he knows this.)
I didn't say you were a "fuckin liar".
You said I was a liar, same damn thing. Don't play Semantics with me. I don't appreciate all the beating around the bush shit. If you heard something about me that you wanna know about, just bring it to me, don't try to introduce that shit.
I did bring it to you straight up.
No you didn't. You gave it a bullshit intro with "so I heard you are a liar". That's the same shit people pull when they do "Hey, Aries! I heard somethin' about you!" You expected me to react and go "oooh really!! Whadya hear? Tell me!!" and when I didn't do that shit, you were surprised. Sidenote: I just thought of what an intro to gossip is equivalent to in my opinion. Ready? That shit is the same as doing the old ass childhood chant of "I know something you don't know...I know something you don't knnnoooww!!" That's how childish I find that.
That wasn't what I was doing.
Yes the fuck it was, that's why when I hit yo ass back with "OK", you said "so you are?" Bullshit ass intro. I'm not into playing games, if you have something to say, just say it. I hate when people do that. What did you expect me to say? I can't defend myself until I know what the hell was said, so just tell me instead of trying to ease it in with some wack ass intro.
I'll give shit an intro if I want to.
Fine. Next time you won't be getting SHIT from me then.
Fine. *click*

This muthafucka hung up on me, ya'll! I don't play that shit. That is some 7th grade "I'm gonna get the last lick" type shit. So damn immature. So the next day I changed my MSN screenname to "If You See Me, Act Like We Never Met (And this IS for YOU.)" Before, all my screennames were lil sweet things for him and he always had to ask if it was just for him. This time I made sure there was no way for him to guess who it was for.

A little harsh? Maybe. But hanging up is on the same level as putting your hand in my face and those who can remember my incident with that white girl in the club who pulled a Jamie Foxx know how well I deal with that.

I guess he took heed to the name because I haven't talked to that bastard since Wednesday. And I don't know if I have a desire to. I miss him, I'm not gonna lie. And ya'll know I have trouble deciphering whether or not I am wrong in some situations, but whether or not I pissed him off by telling him how to come to me is not the point. The point is that bitch hung up on me and NO one hangs up on me. That's some disrespectful shit. Plus, like I said, we haven't talked since Hump Day. Meaning that if he can separate himself from me that easily and over some bullshit like this, maybe we never had anything special at all.

So FUCK DAT NIGGA. It's like that for him now.

I would ask you all what you think, but I'm sure you will let me know.

As if this post wasn't long enough, since I've been slackin on replying to my comments, here ya go: (And yes, I realize this may be classified as being "ghetto" in the blog world. Kiss muh ass.)
Dayrell, I was snackin' on some pineapples right before I typed this. Best fruit God created!
LOL@ Cos - I assure you he looks nuttin like any of dem naggas!
For those that asked: Hotel Rwanda was good, however I prefer Sometimes in April. If you've seen both and like HR better, hit me up on IM and let me know why.

Gossip Folks (Intro of Sorts)

2005-04-30T00:02:00.000-06:00

Ya girl hasn't left the building....yet.

I just got done with finals and now I'm done with school!! For the summer, at least.

Real update coming soon.

Well, let me tell you a little bit.

Females can be the pettiest creatures alive. But then again, we can be some of the most complex. I recently went through some bullshit where I was ready to KILL. Seriously, I was ready to rip a bitch's head off and not think twice. And I'm not kidding. But at the root of it all was some shit that was so petty and such a misunderstanding that now I find myself wondering why we couldn't have resolved this shit sooner. Gossip is the root of SO much evil. It makes folks fight, makes people cry, makes me pissed off at Slim to the point I'm not sure if I ever want to speak to him again.

Like I said, real update soon. Bear with me while I eat these pineapples and watch Hotel Rwanda. Then, I'll get at ya'll.

Blessings.

Let Me Say This Again....

2005-04-26T01:50:00.000-06:00

***This is a throwback (1/13/05) from my old livejournal. Spawned from a conversation with a friend, who proclaimed that all women who are victims of domestic violence are weak***

Most abusive relationships do not start off that way. Can I repeat that please? I said, most abusive relationships DO NOT start off that way. Can you point me out someone who meets someone, gets smacked in the face off the bat and continues to ask for their phone number?

No? I didn't think so...

These men are all peaches and cream until they figure out that the woman is deeply in love with them. There's no time limit on the shit, they just wait until they know that the woman has feelings for them and her heart is entrapped in the situation. Yes, usually there are signs, usually some verbal lashings occur. But can anyone who's been in a relationship and never had an argument raise their hand?

*squinting out into the congregation*

I don't see any hands...So we've all had disagreements? And I'd be safe in assuming that some have been worse than others right? Would you leave your husband or wife the first time they raised their voice at you? I didn't think so...so although verbal abuse is an indicator of things to come sometimes, we can safely say that not all verbal abuse is a warning sign. So, we cannot fault these women for staying through some arguments. Now, like I mentioned, usually by the time a man gets around to placing his hands on a woman, he has determined that she has invested a generous amount of her spirit into making the relationship work. She has loved him wholeheartedly. This is when he strikes. So although the woman recognizes the abuse and the fact that it is wrong, she's already invested in it. There is an emotional attachment that comes along with it. And not only that, but almost all physical abuse comes with another kind of abuse. The man has probably programmed her into thinking that he loves her more than anyone else could, and that when he hits her it's because she's done something to deserve it or any other illogical reason.

I know some of you are thinking "that could never happen to me, I'm too strong of mind to be mentally abused and succumb to someone like that". Please think again. Look back in history - the Holocaust, the Rwandan genocide, the United States slavery system - all the result of manipulated minds. You think every single soul that had something to do with these three tragedies was weak-minded? I think not. Still not convinced? How many of you would pick a big shiny Mercedes over shiny new Honda? I see a lot of hands...you've been manipulated. Because we as a society place emphasis on Mercedes and view them as luxury, you're inclined to want one. Both vehicles would serve the main purpose of an automobile, which is to get you from point A to point B. Mind manipulation can happen to anyone. Throw in the fact that you've invested your love, time, thoughts and maybe even money into this person and I'd be willing to say that anyone is susceptible. I know, I know...some of you are saying "ok, I understand how it can happen, but why do some of them stay?". Well, once again, mind control. And like I mentioned, it doesn't start off that way. So many stay with hopes that "John" will return to being the way he was in the beginning. Also, let us remember that these men are not constantly beating their women 20 hours out of the day. They may in fact be the "perfect gentleman" when they are not placing their hands on someone. Complete Jekyll and Hydes...that just adds confusion to the mix. These women stay because their minds have been manipulated, they have been told this is love, they have been told that no one will love them better, they have received the most tender lovemaking of their life from the very same man who then wrapped a phone cord around her neck. They are confused, they are in need of a friend, they need to be told that there is more out there. That there is better out there. They need to be reassured that although they have had kids by this man, he does not own them nor her. They need to be shown true love. They are not dumb, weak, stupid or deserving. I know. I've been one.

3 Little Birds...

2005-04-22T00:08:00.000-06:00

stole it from Brutha-Free, who stole it from RBG........

Three little things

THREE THINGS I AM WEARING RIGHT NOW
1. Light grey Ambercrombie drawstring pants
2. An A-Shirt (let's eliminate the term "wifebeater", ok folk?)
3. A pink Victoria's Secret bra

THREE THINGS ON MY DESK
1. My cellie
2. Green Apple Mentoes
3. My Centrums that I almost NEVER take

THREE THINGS I WANT TO DO BEFORE I DIE
1. See E.Badu live
2. Visit at least 5 countries
3. Be in a loving marriage with kids

THREE GOOD WAYS TO DESCRIBE MY PERSONALITY
1. Loyal
2. Fun(ny)
3. Caring

THREE BAD THINGS ABOUT MY PERSONALITY
1. Sarcastic
2. Stubborn
3. Too giving at times

THREE PARTS OF MY HERITAGE
1. Black
2. Negro
3. African-American
(this is a whole 'nother post right here.)

THREE THINGS I LIKE ABOUT MY BODY
1. My face
2. My wrists (I have a thing for wrists. Mine are small but strong-looking)
3. My stomach, now that I got it back looking to how I wanted it to

THREE THINGS I DON'T LIKE ABOUT MY BODY
1. My small ass fingers. (I wear a size 5.5 ring...)
2. My hips (I don't dislike them all times, but can they go down just a bit. Everybody else seems to like 'em tho...)
3. Can't think of anything else...

THREE THINGS MOST PEOPLE DON'T KNOW ABOUT ME
1. I get hurt a LOT more than I let on
2. I don't like half the people you think I do
3. I don't like to hurt people's feelings

THREE THINGS I SAY THE MOST
1. "Not that..."
Example:
A friend gets finished telling me about her boyfriend who tried to run a slick game and got caught.
Me: "Not that he thought that shit would fly!!
2. "You're slackin on the mackin', slippin' on the pimpin' and derilictin' on the dickin' "
3. "This nigga/ These hoes (EXTRA emphasis on the first word.) "

THREE PLACES I WANT TO GO
1. The Rwanda genocide memorial (I've been intrigued with this tragedy since my sophomore year of high school...4 years ago.)
2. Spain
3. South Africa

THREE NAMES THAT I GO BY (other than normal name)
1. Liza
2. Dia
3. Lizbeth (only the madre can call me that)

THREE SCREEN NAMES I HAVE HAD
1. Dia680
2. Honey
3. Quinn (Quintessential...)

That was fairly short. I've been lazy on updating lately. Must be that spring fever shit that's going around.

DAYUM GINA!!!!

2005-04-21T01:18:00.000-06:00

Peep the time on this entry.

Ya girl has a 8-10 page paper due by 9:30 am that she hasn't even STARTED yet.

Pray for me, ya'll....

Why Can't We Get Along?

2005-04-19T02:20:00.000-06:00

This shit ain't all peaches and cream no mo.

One of the worst feelings in the world? Spilling out your feelings to someone and having them act like you just didn't say a damn thing.

The past two weekends I've been away from school. The weekend of my birthday I went to a conference and this past weekend I was in St Louis. So this past week, Slim and I may have talked a total of two or three times (not including the internet) before Sunday. Not from lack of calling on my part. His cell phone is off so I have to call him. However, I did my part and called that nigga at least 6 times over two days. So during our conversation on Sunday he lets me know that he's a little upset that apparently I'd chosen to leave rather than to try and see him. Now, mind you, this is the same nigga who went to Texas, Oklahoma, and Omaha, all without me saying a GODDAMN word. Now all of a sudden I go to a conference designed to enrich my college experience and go home for a weekend and I appear to be distancing myself from him? Someone pass me the "bullshit" card, please!

*snatches the card outta Star's (hey, she just seems like the type to have that shit ready and waiting...) hand and wave it in the air as I continue to speak*

This is what I'm saying: How in the hell am I supposed to know that he had plans to come see me? He didn't inform me until after I told him I was leaving and then he had the nerve to get an attitude! And not only that, but he was scheduled to go to Texas this past weekend and for some reason or other, shit fell through. So, not only was he late in telling me the first time, the second time I was some kinda fukkin' back-up plan! Smell shitty to anyone else?

*proceeds to shred the card to pieces and stomp on it screaming "Fuck yo card, nigga!!!"*

Please excuse the outburst...

Anyways, so after Slim tells me that I've been acting funny (distant) since my birthday, I proceed to think. Have I? Let's see....I still call his ass as often as I did before. I bought his ass a shirt from Express (that shit ain't cheap, even if it was on sale...), cut off other niggas for him, and am seriously considering making him the one and only, no strings attached. But I'm acting funny?! What da hell? Someone call a flag on the play! So he tells me that it just seems wierd that just as his feelings are getting deep, I seem to be pulling away. Excuse me, nagga? You are not the only one with feelings here! We eventually get off the phone and I tell him to check his email in the morning.

*holding my finger on the fast-forward button until approximately 20 minutes ago*

So I ask him if he got my email and he says "yeah". Ok...15 minutes of conversation pass and I say "thanks for emailing me back." (Sarcasm in FULL effect). He then had the nerve to tell me that if he would have emailed me back it would have been some "angry" reply. Hold up.....

WHAT DA FUKK IS GOING ON HERE?

Let me think...in my email I apologized (something I almost NEVER do) if he thought I had been acting distant and promised that wasn't my intention, told him I missed him and couldn't wait to see him and made a wish that we can get things back to being right between us. What in there could have possibly garnered an angry rise?

He tells me that although his heart was feeling what I was saying, something in his mind was saying "this is bullshit." I ask what exactly was bullshit about it? He says he doesn't exactly know because that's not what he felt about it but rather something in his mind that told him that. What exactly does that mean? Does this negro have split personalities? I know that sometimes the heart does battle with the mind, but dammit, there wasn't a THING in there for you to be in debate with yo damn self over.

So me and myself had a conversation and we concurred:

OK, you know what? FUCK IT. That stupid ass comment from him deaded the fuckin conversation. See if he receives another muthafuckin call from me THIS WEEK. He betta find a way to correct this shit because I'm through playing Captain-Save-A-Brand-New-Relationship. I ain't made for this shit. All this mess shouldn't even be coming into play in the first three months anyway. That nagga just don't know, if he keeps fuckin around he'll find himself outta rotation quicker than P. Diddy's den mother Jason. Buh-lee Dat.

*Footnote: If this muthafucka does the right thing and gets his shit together enough to null that stupid shit he said, disregard this entry as some angry black woman shit (just this ONCE). But, if by chance his ass stays fuckin up and you don't see his name in the future and find yourself asking "what had happened to dat Slim boy?", refer to this post, along with prior mentions of my low tolerance for bullshit and draw your own conclusion. That is all*

Spring Cleaning

2005-04-18T01:20:00.000-06:00

A little while ago Danja suggested that bloggers should try a spring cleaning list. I liked the idea so here is mine.

I need to....

Clean out my mind. On my poetry notebook is the chinese symbol for peace. Inside, in silver script, I wrote the words "peace of mind". That is something I strive for daily. And it seems that recently, it's been a struggle for me to achieve a state even close to peace. So I have to get my mind in order.

Dust off my poetry notebook and put some words in there.

Sweep away any pain that I've been holding onto. Mainly pain from The EX. I think I've let it all go but looking back there there are a few cobwebs I purposely overlooked. A dust bunny or two that I let live a little too long in my heart.

vacuum all the bullshit misconceptions that people hold about me. I gotta clear that shit out, suck the life outta some bullshit "holier than thou" rumors and dead that shit, once and for all.

Shake out any expectations I have for people that they haven't set for themselves. I have a tendency to hold people to expectations I hold for myself, as well as those they hold for me. However, I realize that everyone is not me and there has to be a different set for every person. So I'm working on that....

Throw away people that have no purpose in my life, as well as those who seem to only bring drama and pain.

Rearrange my priorities, especially in relationships. Me and my best friend hardly ever talk. That's my girl, but I may talk to her every 2 weeks. Maybe every week in a good month. I guess there may be something wrong with that, but who really knows? I definitely need to make sure I have the guys in my life in order before I head into the summer and meet some more (smile). Aww, don't act like everybody doesn't meet at least an average of 3 potential new "associates" in the summer!

I apologize if this post makes no sense. I didn't even read this before I hit the little orange buttin. Perhaps the next few sentences will explain why...: The section about me cleaning out my mind is probably the most important. I've been in this funky ass mood lately. I don't wanna write, I don't wanna blog, I don't wanna kick it or laugh or act silly. I just want to lay in my bed, with the window open, listening to "Must Be Nice" by Lyfe Jennings or "Missing You" by Biggie.

Any ideas to help me out of this stag are WELCOME.

Let's Hear It For the Girl!

2005-04-14T03:56:00.000-06:00

Vonzell Solomon

Although X's post about the mediocrity of American Idol this season almost made me scrap this post, I decided to go ahead and do it anyway.

I'm an American Idol fan. I can't deny it. I get into it. I learn about the contestants and analyze their personalities. Tuesdays are sacred and don't dare think about messing with me during the Wednesday results show. The mishap with the numbers earlier this season? Sheeeit, you woulda thought Bush declared war in my home state of Ohio. I stomped around, cussed out folks who had nothing to do with the mistake and was in a funk until I found out whether or not my favorites were still on the show.

Season 1: Kelly Clarkson? Ehh..she was alright, but my vote was with Tamyra. What happened with her you ask? If you don't know, you won't hear it from me. This is as much as I will say: my homegirl was ROBBED.

Season 2: I picked Reuben to win it. My dad said there was no way America would pick a fat black man from the South who frequently wore jerseys. However, I knew my big bundle of dimples with his satiny voice would win it all. After all, who was the alternative? Clay Aiken? With his limp-wrist tendencies and scarecrow looks? No thanks, buddy, I'll take the "no homo" card on that one. Although Kimberley Locke is gorgeous and has a V-O-I-C-E, something about her always struck me as a tad stuck up. She had this stand-offish demeanor which she exhibited when she told Simon what the hell was up.

Season 3: Me and Fantasia was homies from the gate. I liked Jennifer Hudson as well but homegirl was a bit clueless. So while everyone else was chanting George Huff, I was rooting for the little girl with the big ass gospel voice. (yeah, gospel and ass in the same sentence, so is the contradiction that is me...) Well, we all know who won and gave us the excellent anthem "Baby Mama"! (Alright, now I love my girl, but dat last statement was ALL sarcasm...)

Well, since I've proved how much I love my AI, let's get back to the topic of this post, shall we?

Vonzell.

I swear, if I was a man, or even a gay girl, Vonzell would be like my perfect girl. (Hence the reason I wasn't born a man. I have yet to hear a guy describe Vonzell as attractive or sexy, but that's a whole nother post...matter of fact, probably tomorrow's....but I seriously digress.) She is funny, sweet as all hell and just a likeable little bundle. Plus homegirl has a bit of style, (true the cowgirl outfit was a mistake....ok ok...a disaster, but we're all human, right???) which earns any female points in my book.

But she is the reason I remain plastered to my TV on Tuesday and Wednesday nights. Let Vonzell get voted off....Wait, I don't think ya'll understood the intensity of that sentence. Say it with the "I wish a nagga would!!" ferocity and you'll understand where I'm coming from. Let Vonzell get voted off...I am almost guaranteed to throw something, snap a few folks heads off and just generally get real nasty. If ya'll don't hear from me for a couple of days and the only sign of me is an ambiguous posting with the title "Fuck DAT SHIT!" and a body that says "American is full of idiots", check the AI boards, some shit has gone down, separating me from my weekly dose of my beloved Vonzell.

Real entry? About feelings and shit? Check yesterday.

Oh, and TAM, I've been working on that fly ass template you hooked me up with. However, the comment links weren't in there. I got it to where you can click and it takes you to the page for comments, but I can't figure out the link to allow actually comments. Sheeit, if any of you nerdy (and I mean that in the bestest way possible) people know a lil sumthin sumthin (oooh shiit, Maxwell, my knees just got weak for a second) about templates and links and the such, holla at cha girl on the IM or gmail.

I know I'm a lot of woman....

2005-04-13T02:52:00.000-06:00

but not enough to divide the pie....

I'm trying to manifest my thoughts and it's just not coming together. I'm feeling like a jumble of emotions, like I'm in a situation that should have never occurred, but that I can't get out of easily. I'm a victim of circumstances. Caught up in a place where I can't tell myself how to feel and I'm almost afraid to do what feels right because from the outside it looks so wrong.

I thought it would be easy to cut E off. I won't lie. Not here, in my own blog.

Shit, they say start at the beginning, so that's what I will try to do.

Me and E have been talking for a little under a year. It started out as a strictly friendship thing, mainly because we didn't know each other that well and he was in a situation that had him emotionally tied up. As time went on and we grew closer, we realized that there was this real connection there. However, I don't know if I realized it before him or if it just took him a little longer to get out of his situation then he expected but I found myself reacting to him in ways I would only react to someone I was in a real relationship with (Jealousy, not wanting to hear about him with any girls - past or present, getting excited when he called). At first it scared me a bit because he lives so far away and I didn't want to be attached to someone who is hundreds of miles away. But then he revealed that he was feeling the same and I thought maybe, just maybe we could have something. But in my efforts of trying to figure out a way to work something out, it appeared that he was still attached to the other chick. So, me being me, I said "fuck it." There's no way I'm putting myself out there on some shit as risky as a long-distance relationship and there's a possibility that this other chick that he has MADD history with can pop up, say "I love you, need you and want only you in my life" and he would leave me. No way. Won't happen. Close the gates before the car rounds the corner because ain't nobody gettin in this bitch.

I started pulling away. He noticed. We discussed it and after he assured me that the other chick was no longer a factor, we attempted to regain our closeness. However, it may have been too late. Slim was in the picture and my pride and feelings were already a bit hurt.

So I attempted to put our relationship on the slim-fast diet from "going somewhere special" to "strictly platonic friends". All without telling E. Bad move. Didn't work and I ended up confusing both of us as our roles reversed. Suddenly, he was the one with all the feelings and I was the one who was caught up in this "other thing". (Although my other thing isn't nearly as deep as his. But that's neither here nor there.)

So with all the confusion, I sat down last night and decided to text E and ask him what we are really trying to do, where we are headed and what he wants.

His answer?
I want you.

In what way?
Can you be my b-a-b-y? (which is such a me and him thing to say.)
I don't know...I want us to be close but...
Just answer when you are ready.
I'll try...let me ask you a question....Do you think it's possible for us to be close as friends and not get jealous?
Hasn't worked so far....
True...is that just me?
No, we both get jealous. (damn Ariens.)

So what do I do? I mean, I've made up my mind that Slim presents too good of an opportunity to let slip away while he's right in front of me. But at the same time, I can't just throw E away like that. He's too good of a guy for me to tie him up and try to prevent him from doing his thing and that would be incredibly selfish of me to even try that while I'm all booed up with Slim.

What am I supposed to do when I want you in my world? But how can I want you for myself when I'm already someone's girl....?

Is this a case of "see ya next lifetime" (although not quite that dramatic)?

I guess I can say this:

You need to know that I've got somebody now.

You're BEAUTIFUL........

But..........

this ain't that type of party.

Randomness

2005-04-10T23:55:00.000-06:00

First off, thank you so much for all the birthday wishes!

Secondly, no I have not been in an inebriated stupor for the past 4 days, I went out of town to a conference.

I'm in a shitty mood where I don't feel like doing anything but listening to my Baduizm, laying on my bed with the window open, curling in the fetal position and taking my ass to sleep.

No, I'm not even in the mood to blog but it's no longer my birthday and I felt like that entry should be moved down a bit.

I just choked on a piece of ice. That should say something about how my day has been going.

So may I share some random thoughts? Why, thank you.

- Don't call me just to talk about yourself.
There is nothing more that I hate than people who call my gawddamn phone, using up MY damn minutes to yak about they damn selves. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not some self-centered bitch (not ALL the time, anyway) and I can be a good listener, but don't call me up on some regular old "let me tell you about my day" shit and not even give my ass a chance to say uh huh" or "then what happened?" I mean, muthafukkas call me and get diarrhea of the mouth. But that's alright, see, cuz all I do is go silent on ya'll asses. I mean, deathly silent. I may even press the mute button, just to see how long it takes yo ass to realize that I don't give a shit about you going to Denny's and ordering the GRAND SLAM. Unless that shit has a finger in it or yo eggs came back green, spare me the boring shit. Damn. So if you ever called me and I went HELLA silent on that ass, whoomp dere it is - you were boring the shit outta me.

- You really see who cares about you on your birthday.
For real. You really see who cares enough to remember the day you were brought into the world and even if they are a day or two late, who cares enough to be apologetic when they realize they forgot (or it wasn't the day they thought it was).

- Driving drunk is terrible.
And I did it twice this weekend.

- I really, really love my high school peeps.
My hawk homie can feel me on this one. I don't know what it is about us folk that once rocked the shit outta some black and gold, but almost every time I see somebody from my high school it's a good experience. Smiles all around, no matter how well we knew each other. That's some cool shit man...especially regarding how big the school's enrollment was when I got outta there. 2800 strong, and that's just in 2003.

- 20 isn't so old....yet
Give me a couple of weeks in this 20 year old skin and I'll be able to elaborate on this one.

- Slim is in.
The feelings for him are real. How do I know? While shopping for myself (and racking up, I might add....), I ventured over to the men's side of Express and bought his ass a shirt. And.....I can't wait to see him in it. Next stop: coupleville. Ugh, I'm gonna be a couple again....and I'm not hating the thought one bit.

Real update tomorrow, I promise...I gotta let ya'll know why my boycott of Denny's is alive and kickin'.

Til then....

Go Aries.....

2005-04-06T00:10:00.000-06:00

Happy Birthday to ME!!!!!!!!

That's right. The kid is no longer a teenager. *sniff sniff* I's OLD NOW...

Leave me good shit in the comments so that I feel loved and all that goodness.....

Oh, yeah, as Gian pointed out, I'm the big 2-0. No more "teens" for me...

Knocked Me Out Then Had Me Dreaming 'Bout Waking Up.....

2005-04-05T07:37:00.000-06:00

Ever had some so good...

- you looked at your sheets and smiled?

- you stretched your entire body in preparation?

- after it was done your lungs felt clearer and you could actually breathe better?

- you woke up only to find yourself craving more?

- you told your friends about it?

- that even though it happened in a forbidden place, you didn't feel an ounce of guilt?

- people said you were glowing afterwards?

- you left the bed unmade so that you could think about it when you got home?

- when you were in a meeting the next day you reminisced to yourself?

- it made a 12 hour day seem like it flew by?

I have.

And it was the best sleep of my life.

Damn, I'm tired.

Free Yo Mind

2005-04-04T19:00:00.000-06:00

Since tis a beautiful day outside, I feel in a sharing mood. Here are two freewrites that I did yesterday....Just getting some thoughts out....

(After a read or two, I realized this could be read as an ode to my youth which is quickly passing me by. I'll be the big 2-0 in two more days!! However, it is not. Make of it what you will...)

If heaven was a mile away
I would probably get lost on the way there
Would take a wrong turn
or two or three
making lefts
that shoulda be right
and although
they say three lefts
end up right anyway
I'd still be lost
because by then
the sun would have gone down
and I would have to squint to see
the signs
and even if
I pulled over
to fill up and God
told me which way to go
and that my destination was only a mile down the road
I'd probably
get too cocky
gun the gas
and hit 100 on the way there
passing heaven by
while singing along to Tupac
and wondering
why a mile seems so far

__________________________

(Lite Skinned Girls Cry Too?)

(I read a theory in a book
stating that perhaps
those with lesser amounts of melanin
and skin comparable to the sun
feel the need to be militant
to "prove" their blackness
and I wondered if they have anything to prove
but then)

I heard that 2 days ago
in the year 2005
there was a party at a club
where lite-skinned girls
got in free
and I wondered if those who werent
lite
were being punished
I wondered if those whose skin
shined like ocean water at night
were pushed to the back
and told to wait
while the lite skinned girls passed them by
with heels just a tad bit taller
placing them just a little bit above
and I wondered if
lighter
equaled
prettier
and if that was true
what did dark equal?
because I'm dark
I wondered how much dark girls had to pay
to get in
and how many
if any
turned away in disgust
I wondered
if after a night
of watching men
fawn over lite girls
who were the pick of the night,
the guests of honor
how many dark girls
walked outside
and didn't get to see the full moon
but could tell you every crevice in the sidewalk
on the way to the car
minds cluttered
as they went home
with lighter wallets
and heavier hearts

Come on now Shell, you know you couldn't tell me that and have me not write somethin' about it! Craziness...

Chea, son, so dere dey are - two freewrites. Don't consider dem poems, cuz dat be not what these are. See...?:

Blog Entry #7485
April 4, 2005
I once read a theory in a book stating that perhaps those with lesser amounts of melanin and skin comparable to the sun feel the need to be militant to "prove" their blackness. And I wonder if they really have anything to prove.

But then I heard that 2 days ago, in the year 2005, there was a party at a club where lite-skinned girls got in free. And I wonder if those who werent lite were being punished. I wonder if those whose skin shined like ocean water at night were pushed to the back and told to wait while the lite skinned girls passed them by with heels just a tad bit taller placing them just a little bit above. I wonder if lighter equals prettier and if that is true what does dark equal?

Because I'm dark.

I wonder how much dark girls had to pay to get in and how many, if any, turned away in disgust.

I wonder if after a night of watching men fawn over lite girls who were the pick of the night, "the guests of honor", how many dark girls walked outside and didn't get to see the full moon but could tell you every crevice in the sidewalk on the way to the car as they went home with their minds cluttered, with lighter wallets and heavier hearts.

Ok, so maybe it doesn't work as well in strictly prose form, but that shits is not a poem. 'Member dat!

Peace from somewhere west of the east.

*EDIT: If Blogger fucks wit my spacing ONE mo' time....Imma start a riot in this bitch!!*

Betta Late Than Never....

2005-04-03T21:18:00.000-06:00

Cue my music, DJ!!

*"Bad Boy For Life" by P.Diddy and crew starts to play*

*Aries grabs the mic and clears her throat*

"I ain't goin nowhere! I ain't - goin nowhere! I can't be stopped, cuz I'm a blogger fo' life!!!"

*Strikes B-Girl pose, with mic in hand and red Adidas suit fresh out the sto'*

The previous post in which I proclaimed I was retiring was an April Fool's joke. Ya'll know I couldn't let that day pass without gettin one in! I appreciate all the love though. And Ms. Tee, I especially thought you would have called my ass out with the way you faked out some peeps on your blog!

Love ya'll!

Check the previous post for some delicious recipes and other good shit.

18943 Ways to Make Noodles

2005-04-01T14:00:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed that I haven't been blogging as much lately.

I've recently realized some things have been getting neglected in my life. There are some things, some people that I need to put more time and effort into rather than sitting here writing about it.

Tomorrow I will post the first entry in my three part series of goodbye to the blogging world.

Maybe I'll be back, maybe I won't....I have to see how things work out and whether or not I've neglected things so much that they can't be repaired...

But until tomorrow, here is an entry from my reserves.....

Things I didnt appreciate until I got to college

Water Pressure
Oh man, oh man. Remember when you were a kid and it was summertime? Remember how you didn't own a sprinkler so you improvised by playing with the hose and pushing your thumb over the spout? Remember how somebody always grabbed the hose and folded it so your waterfall of wet fun drizzled off into a sad trickle? That's what my college showers feel like. Forget a morning with the water pelting your back and feeling like little delicious drops of warm awakening. Those days are long gone. Say hello to crowding up under the showerhead and contorting your body so that you get as many drops of water as possible to make blessed contact with your body. I used to be all hunched up in the shower, looking like Quasimodo just so my ass wouldn't be cold while the front got all the water. Fun times I tell ya....

Hot Water
Ah this shit goes right along with the water pressure. Not only is the water minimal, but when you get some, it's like 4 degrees above lukewarm. It may just be that I like my shower water scorching hot though. I'm talking about that kind of hot that makes you jump back and when it hits your skin, it "itches" for a second. I'm talking about water so hot that if you stay in for 10 minutes, the entire bathroom is steamed up and the air is so damn hot it's hard to breathe. What ya'll know 'bout water being that hot? I thought so...but I digress.

I must admit that this year is an improvement over freshman year when I had to deal with community bathrooms (a creation STRAIGHT from Satan's laboratory). I would go into the bathroom, all bundled up in my big cozy bathrobe, little caddy in hand, reach in and turn the water on to let it warm up...only to jump in 3 minutes later and find that it's still cold! Eve watched water jump off on a hot ass skillet? That's exactly how fast I would leap outta there, wrap back up and wait another 4 minutes or so for the water to get to a bearable temperature.

Home Cooked Meals
Yeah, Negroes laugh and joke about missing mama's cooking and how college students eat Ramen noodles, but that shit is REAL!! Times is hard in college, people!

My young eyes have witnessed shit nobody should have to see in their lifetime, all due to the depleted mental state that hunger leaves people in.

I've seen folks try to make 4 course entrees outta Ramen noodles. I'm talking cheese, hot sauce, cut up chicken, beef and various other meats all throw up in there! Ridiculous....

I've witnessed people try to survive two weeks on nothing but ice chips and kool-aid. Shivering and shaking like a fiend...*shm* That was just sad....

I've seen two people try to share a Lunchable. Wait, I don't think ya'll know how serious that is...Think about it....Lunchables..... the little meals that come in the plastic trays, complete with Capri Sun juice and about 7 crackers and 2 slices of cheese! Now imagine two big ass Negroes (I'm talking over 6 ft, each at least 180) trying to divvy up a Lunchable. Not a pretty sight.

As for me, times have never been that hard. But one gets to a point where the food on campus just doesn't cut it. I mean, I'm assuming that they try to make the food as edible as possible, but they just must face the fact that the majority of the time they fail miserably. So miserably, in fact, that last time I went home, I put in a request for some spaghetti 2 weeks ahead of time. Who in da hell looks forward to spaghetti besides Italian folks? It's that bad ya'll...

Free Laundry
Take a second and think about all the laundry you did in the past 3 weeks. Now, divide all your loads in halves and count the number of loads you have washed. Now imagine paying $1.25 for each damn load. Quarters were like pieces of gold freshman year. We used to hoard them like squirrels do with nuts. Paying for laundry was a bitch.

And I swear to you, they make the washing machine's all EXTRA small so you can only get 3 pairs of jeans, a hoodie and 2 pairs of undies in there before the shit is at capacity. Just robbing us po' college folk!

I'll never forget this one event though. One of my homeboys did an entire load of laundry with powder detergent. When he opened the washer all he saw was white powder all over his clothes. In his first attempt at doing his own laundry, he put the detergent on top of his clothes. Not a big problem if you're at home, right? Just run the shit through again and everything is straight. Not in college. That shit'll cost you 5 quarters and an entire extra load that could have been washed.

So what did he decided to do with his extra detergenty clothes?

He looked at them for a second or two. Then he started pulling them out, one by one and beating the powder off of them. Finally, I watched in awe as he walked over to the sink, rinsed them off and then threw them in the dryer, which was free. LMAO.

Clean Water
The h2O supply up here runs neck to neck with Mexico's reserve, I'm sure of it. It's like I can smell each and every nutrient, vitamin and particles of non-water substance that may be in it. It stinks, for real ya'll. That's why almost all the people up here with at least drop of melanin refuse to drink it. Shit, I used to go out to restaurants and order delicious lemonades, juices and liquor (when I could get away with it), but now? As soon as I leave the 'Ville, "let me have a glass of water, please." Never before did I appreciate some "high quality h2O" (MAJOR props to you if you get that movie reference. It means you're a goofy ass like me!)

Maternal Alarm Clocks
Back at home, if my ass was about to be late for something, I awoke to the sound of my mother's screams and her fists banging on my bedroom door. That shit used to irritate the HELL outta me, especially when I "wasn't....really...sleep...just...resting...for...a....few...more........minutes..."

But now?

What I wouldn't give to have that annoyingness back in my life.

See, I'm the type of hardheaded mudda sucka that lives by the creed, "If I don't wanna, I ain't gotta" (Shaddup, nobody said that taglines had to be grammatically correct!) So that means if I have an 8am class that I don't wanna go to....I ain't gotta. If I look outside and it appears that I can sense inclement weather that may or may not really be there and I decide to stay in bed, I can. Unfortunately for me, I have appeared to discover my "lazy" bone. I will think of any reason not to go to class when I don't feel like it. Sun too bright? Skip class. It's my half birthday? No reason to go out today. Snow look a little too cold? Better not chance it.

See? Just silly ass reasons not to go to class. But if I was home, besta believe mama wouldn't play that.

Feel free to share ya'll broke down stories wit me.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY E. BENTLEY...OOPS...E.DIDDY!

Big ASS Dose of Act-Right

2005-03-29T17:04:00.000-07:00

R.I.P. Johnnie Cochran

Don't call me Miss Cleo but, I spoke of this...

All joking aside, now that Blogger has decided to let me do a real post, this is a sad day. Cochran broke down so many doors for black folks in the law world and he's done work in the community that you would never know about unless you researched his endeavors. My prayers go out to his family.

Now Starring....

2005-03-28T02:14:00.000-07:00

As I sit in my desk chair, freshly peeled out of some Rocawear jeans, a grey hoodie and matching grey New Balances, eating a strawberry Edy's fruit bar (which ain't shit but a grown-up popsicle and listening to Teedra Moss, I start to wonder...

(yeah I just realized that intro doesn't have a damn thing to do with anything but so the fukk what?)

So, I may have bitten off more than I can chew. In a recent comment section, Star implied that I may be able to give up some P.I.M.P. tips since it appears that I have a stable of men. My friends who know details about my "love life" (if I can call it that), jokingly say that I have more men in my life than a little bit. When Luda's "Pimpin All Over the World" comes on, I usually proclaim to anyone that will listen that it's my theme song of the moment. However, I'm not made out for pimpin, I'm not even made out for "dating around". I'm a one man type of woman and while some view the guys in my life as actual companions, I view them more as options.

The truth of the matter is, what I have now is a few guys who like the possibility of having me in their life romantically. That's not to say that anything will happen or that I feel the same way. Shit, I guess the easiest way to discuss this would be to break down the major players in the game. So here goes.

The Cast:
(please know that this list is in no specific order...so dun trip if you're first or last.)

Mr. Young
Background Information: Warm As the Sun Dipped in Black, Number 6 of My Confessions, A Letter to My Beautiful Surprises

We met last semester, wow...that seems so crazy to think that I've only known him for less than a year. Anyways, we became really close and as time went on, he became my shoulder to lean on. He's just so easy to talk to and he's one of those people who never makes you feel as if you're being judged when you talk to them. After a few months of being "strictly friends", we grew a lot more close and our relationship developed into something that is not easily defined. However, when I stop and think about where we are going now, it seems that we have fulfilled our obligation to each other.

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about people's purpose in other's lives and how someone may come into your life for a short amount of time, fulfill their purpose and then leave. Not necessarily on bad terms or because of certain circumstances but just because there is nothing else you can do for each other. I feel that way when I think about Young. It just feels like he was placed in my life to help me through a time when I really needed someone and now that I'm passed that, I'm not sure if our relationship can sustain. I don't want this to sound as if I used him, because I didn't. He is a special person in my life, I'm just not sure if he's that "special person", even if he assures me that he can be.

Slim
Background Information: Slim: Parts I & II, certain sections of Closed: Will Reopen Once Healed,and Aries:Unplugged
Most of you know the deal with Slim, so we can skip straight to the point here. And what is that exactly?

*DRUMROLL*

*pulls you closer and whispers, "I think I'm catching feelings for him...."*

Even more proof that I cannot be a pimp. Pimps don't have feelings. Say it with me now..."We don't lub dem hoes!!" *hangs my pink fedora, complete with white feather on the coat rack*

He makes me laugh. When I'm not around him, I find myself thinking about the next time I will see him. I noticed when we didn't talk for a whole day. I miss his touch. He aggravates me (which is a sign that I care, however odd that may be...if I didn't care, I'd be nonchalant and nothing about him would bother me). He says the things I wanna hear, but not in a "this negro is running game" way.

It's not infatuation because I've been there and this doesn't feel like that.

When it all comes down to it, I can see myself setting everyone else aside to be with him. And that's real.

So why don't I just do that? The whole "all the eggs in one basket" theory. I just don't know if I'm ready to place all my trust, hopes and relationship fears on one person.

E Bentley
Background Information: Number 12 and I'm Rich, Biaaaatch!
Met him last summer. We've stayed in touch, which is extremely rare for me. In the beginning, we had some GREAT conversations. It was like we could talk about anything. Maybe that was part of the problem. While we both acknowledged that if we were closer in proximity (he lives in Florida) something more than long-distance friendship may occur, the reality is that we don't. So we engaged in excellent conversation, talking about almost any and everything in our lives, including this girl he was involved with. So while I found myself growing closer and closer to him and actually entertaining the thought of a long-distance relationship, it took me a while to realize that he was stuck in this other situation that occupied not only his time but a portion of his feelings. So I pulled away, fearing that I would become emotionally attached to a guy who, at any given moment, may have dropped me for a girl he had a history with and obvious feelings for. Now ask him, and he may tell a different story, but this is my blog, my side.

Mr. 100%
Background Information: Lovers and Friends and If I Woulda Knew
Dude intrigues me....I didn't even realize I had blogged about him in December until I scoured the archives trying to find back files and that entry popped up.

I guess this is a good a time as any to give you all the update to what happened when I went over there to watch Belly.

I get over there and he pops the movie in. So we're sitting there on the couch, enjoying the movie, munching on pretzels and sippin Smirnoffs. About 20 minutes into the movie, he pulls me close to him and situates me under his arm. We chill like that for a moment and then I feel him pull away. I look up and he's leaning in, trying to kiss me. I looked at him, with his fresh braids and beautiful lips, and turned my head so that all he got was a taste of my cheekbone. With the lame ass explanation that I was "kinda in a relationship" and a gentle kiss on his cheek to soothe his bruised ego, we watched the rest of the movie with his arm around my waist. When it came time for me to go home, he walked me to my car, gave me a tight hug goodbye and promised that he would call me on his off day (Wednesday). As promised, my phone rang at around 2:00 on Wednesday. It was him, calling to give me his new cell number and seeing if we could hook up for a late lunch. I quickly rushed him off the phone with the promise that I would call him right back. I never did. He called me 4 more times that day. I never returned the calls. Today he called me. On Highway 70 and safely out of his reach, I answered the phone. He let me know that it was messed up how I played him to the left but that he wasn't mad. He said that he respected whatever I was ready to let him be in my life and that he only wanted to catch up over lunch. I actually felt kinda bad and found myself promising that I would call him this week and make sure to see him the next time I came in town.

Mr. Big
Background Information: N/A (Actually, after some further investigation, we found this: Number 4. Did you just ask yourself who the "we" was that found this information? Dun worry 'bout it...ya'll know the people that always do the background checks, the CIA, FBI, BBD, TLC, SWV and dem'...yeah, Big Brutha)

One of my best guy friends in the world. If I were to rank the men I know (excluding my family, and therefore my favorite guy in the world - my daddy) based on personality alone, he would probably top the list easily. I cannot think of a single thing that we can't talk about. All that shit that we ladies hide from guys, trying to be cute, we've discussed. He's seen me at my worst and yet he still wants to try a relationship with me. I didn't even realize that he thought about me that way until I got a little too much liquor in the system one night, dared him to show me how a certain piece of apparatus (that he wasn't born with...think about it...) enhanced a much-talked about act and he actually gave me a *cough*live demonstration*ahem*. Since that night, I've tried to play like Israel on College Hill and claim a temporary "blackout" due to alcohol consumption, but that shit didn't work.

So we exist on. Me, speaking to him on a strict friendship level, and him taking what he can get, but not so secretly wishing that we can replay that night with a few script revisions.

Oh, I guess I should explain why it will never ever ever ever ever (say it like Chris Tucker would) happen again. If you read the background, you know. But for the folks who don't utilize the secret files I've provided, here is the main point: I'm not sexually attracted to him at all. There is no "za-za-zuh" as my homegirl Carrie Bradshaw (and NO, she is not just a character played by Sarah Jessica Parker, she lives on inside of me...) would say. It's not that he's an unattractive guy, it's....damn this sounds shallow....well, look at his alias and figure it out for yourself. And for the really slow ones...(*sidelong glance at Bruhfree*), let's just say he's a LOOoOoOOoOOng way from being able to bounce quarters off his stomach...Oh, I'm so ashamed, call me shallow, go ahead..I deserve it.

So there they are, the (main) men in my life. As you can see, I have a unique relationship with each and every one of them. And while this may be a case of me trying to "have my cake and eat it too" (a STOOPID ass saying if you ask me....), I feel like Jay-Z said it best: "Love havin my cake plus eatin' it too. Shit, I got cake, what the fuck I'm 'posed to do??

Let's just hope it doesn't bite my ass back......

Betta Not Fukk It Up!!

2005-03-22T17:04:00.000-07:00

Regina King just said on 106 & Park that the Boondocks (my FAVORITE comic strip in the WORLD) is soon going to be a cartoon showing on the Cartoon Network during the "Adult Swim" block. I cannot wait!! They had betta not mess my shit up because I might riot up in this biotch!! In case you were wondering what voices she will be doing, Regina will be doing the voices of Huey Freeman and Riley Freeman....HmMMmm.....this shit betta be good!

I need a vacation home!

2005-03-21T23:24:00.000-07:00

It's my Spring Break...which means I won't be doing too much of anything, but that I won't be posted up by my comp like I usually am. I'll still be around, trying to keep up with the crew's blogs....but don't be expecting me to update anytime soon! I'll give ya'll the scoop on Mr. 100% when I get back!

P.S. - If I'm EXTRA moved by Tweet's album, which I will be picking up tomorrow, the day it drops, I may post somethin on that. Otherwise, Imma be a lazy bitch.

If I woulda knew....

2005-03-19T20:53:00.000-07:00

"On the flip side, I find this boy occupying SO much of my thoughts. He's such an old soul, so wise beyond his years and so deep. When I look into his eyes, I see truth. Pure and plain. Every word he speaks, he believes so deeply in, and that's so sexy and appealing to me. We have the best conversations and it's crazy how attracted I am to him, yet I can leave him never having sexually touched each other and feel so FULFILLED. He makes me hot with a glance and I think he knows it..." - Feb 2004

I was 15. He was 17. The boy next door. The one my mother didn't want me talking to too long because he wore his hair in braids. Because on his side tooth there was a shiny gold. Something I normally hated but on him it worked. I had watched him play ball around the way. He was quicker than all the other dudes and yet he seemed to never break a sweat. He was fuckin' fly. If this was The Coldest Winter Ever, he would be Midnight.

Somehow, we became close. He would come over my house after school let out and we would stand on my porch for HOURS. He would wrap his arms around me, and run his hand up and down my stomach while we talked about any and everything. He was so intelligent. Talk to anyone else and they would say he was a "thug". No doubt about it, he was a city kid, but he was so far from a thug. He was that street smart guy that could hold his own. That handsome guy who seemed to be good at everything without really trying to do anything. He was that guy who didn't talk to many people, but everyone claimed to know him.

I felt privileged. On the few days when he would ride the bus, he would always sit in my seat and lay his head in my lap. I would stroke his braids or mess with his ears while casually talking to one of my girlfriends. Dudes who tried to talk to him while he was relaxing with me got hit with the grill face. That, "leave us alone" face.

With one hand on the porch railing and the other one on my stomach, he rested his chin on my shoulder and lightly gave me a kiss on the jawbone. It was the first time his lips had ever touched me. I still remember it to this day. I felt it was the right time. I gently placed my hand over his on the railing and ran my index finger over the skin between his thumb and index finger. "100%" it said. A delicate tattoo, not fancy at all. I took a deep breath and asked him what it meant. He stood quietly for a minute and finally said "You're not ready to know." Say what, say huh? Don't tell me I'm not ready to know anything! From that day on, I asked him almost every other day to tell me the meaning behind it. I figured since it was permanently etched in his skin and in such a prominent place, it had to have some significant meaning. He always dodged the question and eventually I thought back to his answer the first time I posed the question and dropped it.

___________________

I've seen him around now and then when I come home.

Tonight, I pulled in the garage and heard someone softly call my name. Knowing it couldn't be him because he doesn't live there anymore, I quickly threw up my hand in greeting and continued on into the house. I heard the person call my name again, a little louder this time. I glanced back into the darkness and heard him say "it's me..." I slowly zipped up my coat and walked down my driveway. He stood at the bottom, a cute smile on his face and a black hoodie over his Atlanta hat-capped head. We embraced, then went and sat on his car and talked about what's going on in our lives now. Lots of smiles, and a sense of familiarity you can only get with people you once shared a special bond with. He said we should go somewhere tonight and I agreed. He's not into clubs and for some reason, tonight, I didn't feel like going out anyway. He said we should just drive around and be "free spirits". Coming from anyone else, it woulda sounded corny as all hell. Someone else may have come off like a John Legend/Neo-Soul/Buppie wanna-be trying out his first attempt at spontaneity. But falling out of his lips, it sounded beautiful. I bit my lip, looked at him and told him as good as that sounded, gas is too high ($2.00 a gallon) for me to be letting him drive around being "free-spirited". He laughed, told me I was right and that he would try to find something for us to do. After a couple calls and still no luck, he said he would run to the gas station, fill up on gas, put a little air in his tire and call me on my cell. I told him that was cool, gave him a hug and walked into the house.

He called 1/2 an hour later. I had just gotten off the phone with Slim. "You in those pajamas yet?" he asked. I let him know he called just in time. Then, out of the blue:

Hey, how come you used to like me and tried to act like you didn't?
Say what? What are you talking about?...
Come on now, it's just me and you on the phone....
And I'm for real...are you serious? aww fukk it... Key words being: "I liked you..."
I see what you're saying.... but I liked you. We liked each other.
I was 15.
And I was 17. Yeah...I see what you're saying...you were the girl next door. Remember that song?
By Musiq?
Yeah...*starts singing* "If I woulda knew the girl next door woulda been you..." Man, I used to love that song.
You could relate huh? You shoulda been a little more nice to me...
I'm trying now...We still got time. And I see you're not afraid of me anymore.

He's right. Like I said, I felt privileged. He was my little prize. The older guy that everybody wanted, but nobody but me got to get close to. So...I'm going over his house. Just to watch a movie. And reminisce....

Hey, ain't nothin' wrong with that....

Fuck Bacardi

2005-03-18T01:10:00.000-07:00

Ain't it fucked up how...
alcohol will let you have all the fun you want until you get home and then that shit says "A HA! Nigga...here I come!" **SMACK** "BITCH!!!"?

Ain't it fucked up how....
When Negros go and grab white girls, them bitches are usually OOGLY?

Ain't it fucked up how.....
when you find something good there's always a catch?

Ain't it fucked up how....
sometimes there just doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day?

Ain't it fucked up how....
Bush got re-elected? (thought I would throw that one in there....)

Ain't it fucked up how....
something you thought was yours can really belong to someone else?

Ain't it fucked up how....
I'm drunk and this is the best post I can come up with?

Ow....delor mi estomago...(or something like that). Shit, my stomach is killing and I didn't even have that much to drink...Fuck is da deal? ***Stumbles off singing "there's a meeting in my bathroom"...to the tune of Silkk's "Meeting in my Bedroom"....

My poor, poor stomach and head....OW.....

I've caught the bug

2005-03-17T00:11:00.000-07:00

Is this shit contagious? It seems Spring Fever has hit the bloggin' world. I cannot think of one single topic to blog on...isn't that sad as hell? I didn't even mean to be all MIA for almost a week but damn, I've been running around and still haven't done anything blog-worthy.
*in my best Martin voice* DaYUM GINA!! Lemme sit here for a moment....

hmMmM...maybe....

nahhh......

Or there was that one time.....no that won't work either.....

men?....nope......friends?....nope.......catty bitches?.....nope....

Is it that my life is going so well at this moment that there is no reason to blog?

Well, St Patty's Day is tomorrow and in a town fulla white folks whose bodies are 75% beer on any given weekday, I'm sure there will be some blog worthy events that I can put my $0.35 in about....

Hey, do black folks have a ignant holiday like St Patty's Day and Mardi Gras where we can get drunk and act a fool and it's all g-double "o" - d good? I've heard of Juneteenth celebrations although I have no clue where they are held. Mardi Gras doesn't count....4th A July? Naww....not our holiday to begin with...Are they any?

Song of the moment - "Backstroke (Cautious)" - Teedra Moss

And yes, I realize that this does not qualify as an "update" per se...but hey, I told you, I've caught the FEVER...somebody gimme a remedy for this shit!

Turning Tricks...err..books

2005-03-13T02:58:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed that in my profile/bio (---->) it says "Professional Shit Talker." While you may think that my rants on bad remakes, people who can't walk, and Biz Markie count as classic shit-talking, the situation in which I do the most talking is in competition, particularly during card games. Narrowing it down even more, I talk the MOST during Spades. When I was younger, I used to watch my parents, aunts and uncles play Spades with my eyes widened, just taking everything in. I laughed as my uncle stuck the card that would win the "set book" on his forehead, learned that the secret to making cards slap the table was all in the wrist, and that lying was a MUST.

When I came to my college, everyone's game of choice was bones or dominos. I quickly changed that shit. Don't get me wrong, I know the basics of dominos, but I'm not one of those people who counts all the bones and can tell you what someone is holding or what possibilities are left. Plus, math just ain't my thang, even if it is just counting below 30. So I quickly started the Spades Revolution on campus. Pretty soon after my arrival, the whole campus was playing spades. Cards were flying left and right and amateurs got sent home quick with long faces after 3 straight sets. But little did I know that the small amount trickery I learned from watching my family play would only take me so far. I quickly discovered that I wasn't just playing with liars, I wasn't just playing with cheaters, I was playing with some straight magicians! These Negros (ok, only really 2 of them, but that was enough) would pull some shit that would make Old Bootin' Billy from Boston (ok so that's not really anybody's real nickname....) look twice and say "huh?" So without further ado, here are some of the most scandalous Spades tricks (*clearing my throat**cheatmoves*ahem* excuse me...) I've seen in my almost two years up here.

Papparazzi Snap
Long live the camera phone! Ever seen someone take a picture of their whole hand and then send it to their partner? I have. Funny shit, especially when the opposing team just thinks that they are randomly checking their phones like everyone does every 15 minutes or so.

I'm Ready for Broadway!
There are some songs that are illegal during our Spades games now. Why? Read on...

One of the professional cheaters I mentioned in the prologue got a hand in which he had no diamonds. When his rookie partner started looking clueless as to what suit to play next, ol boy started straight humming the Purple One's classic tune "Diamonds and Pearls". Do-do-do-do-doom Do-do-do-do-doom do-do-do-do-doom-dum-dum... I mean, he had the opening beat down pat, the opposing team (buncha Nelly listeners, perhaps) were oblivious to the allusion. Obviously so was his partner. The freshman led with Hearts, allowing the other team to take control. All that vocal performance for nothin'.

During the Spades tournament last year (which me and my partner won *dustin off my lil imaginary trophy, poppin my collar twice and yes, Diggs, just for you, I will dust my shoulders off a few times too..), my partner was looking at me to see where he could go that would win us a book. So naturally I told him he could "find me in da club, bottle fulla bub..." After he lead with the 5 and I played the King and then the Ace next book, "In Da Club" was outlawed at the games. Sorry Fiddy.

Once again, during the tournament (2nd round, I think) diamonds were on the table. It was the first time they had been out, the first person led low and my partner, who didn't have any diamonds, looked at me quizzically, seeing if he should cut. Cue my music, DJ!!! "Choppa style, chop-chop choppa style!!! They want chop, chop! They want chop, chop!" Needless to say, he cut the book.

Liza Valentino
My Italiano gangster alias. This bitch is heartless. No, literally. This is who I turn into when I have no hearts in my hand. I adopt an accent, become inclined to call my partner "Toe-nee" or "Ma-ree-uh" and tell everybody who will listen that I am a "cold bitch." (This may or may not include shivering and hints to the temperature inside the playing area..depends on how deep in character I am that day...*big smile*)

The ole' switch-a-roo, eh?
The way we play up here, if someone wants to call a renig, they must "call" the proper book. Meaning, they have to properly identify the book on the table before it is flipped. These reggins (copyright Huny) up here have been know to switch the books faster than a professional three-card monty dealer. We especially - hell let me not absolve myself on any guilt - PEOPLE especially need to be on the lookout when WE, the CAWNS (Cheaters Association With No Shame) - start placing the books directly side-by-side.

Recycle, Man!
My school's heating and cooling systems run off of energy gained from recycled materials. We are firm believers that everything can be reused. Yes, even spades. So beware, newbies! If you see a member of CAWN rake in a book and take a little longer than usual, we are probably placing a card from our hand on top in trade for an "under the radar of amateur" spade (read:not a face card) that has an opportunity to win in the final couple of books.

There are many more tricks, but I must stop here. I'm crossing my fingers that I don't get my membership to cons...err...CAWNS revoked for revealing our classic tricks. Remember, I told you we are magicians and magicians NEVER tell the secret. However, it's too late, it's already out there. If you don't hear from me for a few weeks, contact the national headquarters of CAWNS and demand I be set free under the National Information Freedom Act (or some shit like that).

And remember....

This ain't yo grandmama's Spades! It's a new day!

Put Ya Spin On It (Got Love For My Shoes...KSWISS!!)

2005-03-10T02:00:00.000-07:00

Breathe too heavily and you may miss the best part of the new Coke commercial. You know, the one where several young guys are hoopin' it up at the local playground when the ball rolls to the feet of an older man? While everybody is busy "ooohin and ahhin" at the fact that the older guy schooled the young shit talker, they usually miss the best part. What is it? At the very end when youngin is taking a swig from the cool, refreshing (somebody needs to pay me) Coke, his boy in the background says "Do you know who that is? That's Rooftop, son. He's a LEGEND." Then the Coke logo flashes across the screen with the word - "Respect." Point? You gotta know those who came before you if you want to be the best.

Scouring some American Idol message boards, trying to find some David Brown and Nikko Smith peformances, I stumbled upon some imbiciles who stated that Mikalah Gordon's rendition of "God Bless The Child" was *GASP* better than Billie Holiday's. What in the flying fuck they are smoking, I don't know. Brutha-free, if you ever get a hold of that Grade F mess, do not blog that day, apparently it makes you say stupid ass shit. How in the hell somebody can say a freakin 17 year old, whose hardest struggle was probably the American Idol audition process, can sing "Mama may have, papa may have...but God bless the child that's got his own.." betta than Ms. Holiday, I'll never know. Come on now, that's borderline blasphemous.

There are obviously some people who don't know that you need to know the past in order to make it through the future. Here is my list of:

Worst Remakes EVER.

"Someday We'll All Be Free" - Justin Guarini
I haven't even heard this. I just found out he had the audacity to cover this song by googling my favorite song to find out who had the balls to cover it. Come to find out it's this Sideshow Bob looking fool. He earns a spot on my list because he can't sing and no one slapped him and told him that Donny Hathaway is not to be fukked with.

"My Prerogative" - Britney Spears (Originally done by the Tyrone Biggums of R&B - Bobby Brown)
What is hell's name was she thinking when she remade this? Now she got folks talking about "she took a bad song and made it worse..." Naw pimpin, I remember. This usta be the jumpoff. Bobby Brown had grown ass married men whose young days of pimpin and spittin linen to the young women were LOOONG past talking bout "It's MYyYyy prerogative!!" So don't tell me that mess. She took what was a decent song and made it horrendous. And her cyber-space vocals certainly don't help.

"The Star-Spangled Banner" - Carl Lewis
Anytime you have to apologize midsong, you've done something extremely wrong. After fucking up royally, Carl took a break from singing and told the crowd "I'll make up for it, now..." He never did. He continued to slaughter the anthem, sounding like he had about 5 Freds from "Da Band" dying to get out. Cracked notes galore. Ya'll know that part at the end that says "O'er the land of the FrEeeeeEeEE..."? You know, the part where people usually choose to show off the upper end of their singing range? Yeah, well, not Carl. His ass got to that part, stopped mid performance, thought about it and took that note to lows (literally) never seen before. Don't believe me? Click Here to hear the atrocity.

"This Christmas" - Ashitty, oops, Ashanti
Death to ANYONE who attempts to sing this song and doesn't come remotely close to invoking the feelings of the original. So that means 95.9989% of muthafuckas who've attempted to sing this (publically) should be dropping quicker than plants in a crackhouse pretty soon.

Seriously, I cannot stand for people to try to sing this song on TV specials and shit and not even come close to the sincerity Donny poured into it. But of all the performances I've seen, Ms. Douglas' was BY FAR the worst. Barring the fact that she can't sing, nah wait, fuck that, that's the main reason for my anger towards her attempt at this song. So, not only does she sound worse than Ms. Piggy after sex (don't look at me crazy like ya'll never noticed how Ms Piggy sounded extra throaty after she and Kermit came from being alone someplace!), but the ho had the audacity to pass the mic to her even more talentless (if indeed this is possible) sister, who then proceeded to read the words off a SIDEKICK!! Don't tell me...no really, don't tell me that this lil ho didn't even have the decency to learn the words before she appeared on the blank channel (BET) to sing it? *cocking back my hand*

***SMACK!!*** BITCH....learn to respeck yo' elders fo' you come with that craziness!

"When Doves Cry" - Ginuwine (originally by *waving my finger in the air crazily the realizing "oh wait, that phase is over"*...Prince)

Do not touch Prince. Especially a classic Prince song. So what Prince songs does that leave to be tackled you ask? NONE DAMMIT, NONE!!! Until Sir Purpleness dies, no one shall touch any Prince songs. (Act 27849, hereby enacted on March 9, 2005 by the presiding Honorable Know-It-All, Ms. Liza Valentino herself, better known as Aries. )

"All I Do" - B5 (orginally by Troop)

What in the hell? That's all I gotta say. These little greasy-head boys look like they jumped straight outta Westside Story and started singing. Please ship them right on back with those Elvis hairdos. Just a mess...

Alright, I know there are TONS more that I have missed, but my mind caught a blank page and it is 2 in the morning, cut a sista a break. Tell me the ones that shoulda been on the list in the comments section.

**EDIT** BLOGGERS EVERYWHERE!! STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING!! Have you taken time out to hug your "r" key today? Please do...because you could look down one day and have an empty space underneath your "4" and "5" keys...*sniff sniff* That is all....

***EDIT #2*** (in explanation of the first edit) My "r" key/button popped off my laptop and I typed my entire entry (as well as both edits) using the little nub that is found under that actual key. It's not fun and I miss my R....That is all. Get it? Good...

Aries - Unplugged. Version 1.0

2005-03-09T11:25:00.000-07:00

The new softer Brutha Code posted an entry a few days ago in which he transcribed the birth of his inner "playa." In my comment to his post, I said that I wish we as humans weren't so likely to take one hurt and allow it to forever lurk in our relationships from then on out. Then I stated that I am guilty of this.

________________________

A few days ago, Slim and I had a conversation which consisted of me pissing him off and him trying not to let it show. Eventually, he just stopped talking and I said "call me back" and abruptly hung up. About 5 minutes afterwards, I felt so bad that I sent him a text that said "don't be mad with me, I didn't mean to upset you." He shot me one back that said "i'm not. you just seem like you don't like me when i'm not with you." Damn. I sent him one more that said "i'm sorry, it's just really hard for me to let people in." He told me that I just should have told him that instead of pushing him away. I agreed and we were back to normal.

In an earlier post, I mentioned that I asked Slim what it was exactly that he was looking for. What I didn't say was what I told him. After staring at my blank phone, trying to figure out the perfect text message to send to convey what I am really looking for, I finally called him up. I told him that I'm not sure what I'm looking for but that it's not a sex buddy. It's not neccessarily a "boyfriend" either, although if it ends up that way, I won't have a problem with it. I'm not looking for another platonic friend, lawd knows I have enough of them. So he eventually came to the conclusion that I'm not looking for a real relationship. I let him think that because I'm not sure if I'm concrete enough in my desires to object to his assumption.

As Gian so delicately stated, Slim's been spending a lot of nights over here. Usually Thursdays, Saturdays and a Sunday here and there. Last night he tells me that he won't be coming up here this week. So I said (extremely sarcastically, mind you), "aWWww DAYUM!" He knew I was playing, but I think it kinda bothered him because he went into this whole tirade of "you act like I don't mean anything to you." After his tangent, we had this conversation:

Slim: "I'm kinda glad that I'm not coming up there this week."
Aries: "Damn, for real?"
Slim: "Naw, not like that. Because you said you don't like guys getting too attached to you."
Aries: "And?"
Slim: "Every time I see you, I find myself getting more and more attached to you..."
Aries: "Oh.."
Slim: "Yeah, and I don't want that to happen if it's something you don't like."
Aries: *with ALL the hesitation in the world* "Oh...Ok..."
Slim: "You did say that, didn't you?"
Aries: "Uhhh..........yeah...."

Classic example of words coming back to bite you in the ass. When I said that I was referring to guys that I don't find myself feeling the same way about. I could easily tell him that, but then at the same time he might assume it's ok to get all attached and I'm not sure I want that either.

Am I afraid of committment?

Slim thinks so.

I don't.

I think I'm afraid of getting hurt again. I'm afraid of getting into another unhealthy relationship.

But I don't want to be that girl that guys are afraid to get close to.

I want Slim to be close. To get close. Slowly.

I want to have him here. I want him to sit in a chair while I straddle him and look deep in his eyes. I want to tell him that it's ok to get close to me because I'm not going to do anything to hurt him. I want to wrap my arms around his neck and have him tell me that he doesn't fear me. I want to tell him that I won't lie to him and I expect the same from him. I want him to know I have no reason to lie. I want to kiss him and for him to know that as of right now, nobody kisses me better than him. I want him to know that he's been the only guy to sleep in my bed for almost a month. I want him to know that now I sleep on the right side of the bed because it reminds me of him. I want him to get close and not be fearful that I may push him away.

But he is. He told me so.

It's a fear that I can't say is completely unwarrented. I do play him to the left. Sometimes I don't answer the phone when he calls. If my call-waiting beeps, he's usually the one to get the "lemme call you back." He'll send me a text message and I purposely won't reply until an hour and a half later. I don't know why I do it. Actually, I do. I like him. And he likes me back. And at this point there's a blinking neon sign activated in my grey matter that says "DANGER. YOU'VE BEEN DOWN THIS ROAD BEFORE. TURN AROUND." And although I know he is an entirely different person (from the one I last ventured down that pathway with) until I can find the source of power to unplug that damn sign, I keep pulling myself away.

My Promise

2005-03-09T01:00:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed that my page was blacked out for the majority of March 8th with a promise to Rashawn Brazell. My promise is that I will not let him be forgotten. It's a promise that shouldn't have to be made. His name should be as widely printed as that of Jon Benet Ramsey. His face as familiar as Laci Peterson's. Humans, young and old, Black and white, gay and straight should loudly protest the brutal way in which he was snatched from this earth. However,

It is obvious that the mainstream media is sending us a message. A message that says our young Black lives don't mean a thing to them. Rashawn is hardly mentioned. They refer to him in ways PETA would deem inhumane for animals. They are trying to sweep him under the rug.

It's a message they've been sending us for decades.

They refuse to use their ink to report and respectfully commemorate our lives.

I won't let them. I've seen this too many times in my short life. I've watched as men who looked like my father, my uncle, my best friend and my boyfriends were dusted away. Blown into the wind with little more than a second thought. I won't let it happen this time. I've read, I'm stronger now, I'm wiser now. I realize that while it will take more than me, it has to start somewhere. I'm willing to plant the seed of memory in people's minds so that they know Rashawn Brazell was here.

Rashawn,

I won't let them forget you.

You're too much a part of me.

You remind me so much of my boy Rock. Young, full of promise, and gay. I told Rock about you the other day and I listened as his voice filled with outrage. I shake when I think that the name hidden deep beneath the tactless headlines could have easily been his.

If I allow them to forget you, I'm sending them a message that it is ok to forget me. To forget all young, promising Black youth after a few blurbs hidden behind the lastest news of war. I won't let it happen. I can't let it happen.

You're too much a part of me.

Check The Blog Movement for other bloggers who've agreed not to let Rashawn's name be forgotten.

Hot List (#2)

2005-03-07T10:20:00.000-07:00

112 - "You Already Know"
I first heard this on the radio in St Louis during the Winter Break. Throughout the first verse I thought it was Michael Jackson singing, halfway through the first verse, I realized that it was Slim from 112. Then the chorus came on and it was some freaky shit about her favorite position being "from the back door." This song is smooth as hell. I've never been a 112 fan, but I always listened to them with a "eh, so what" attitude. This song may give them a little spot in my heart. *EDIT* - Click Here and scroll down until you see the link to hear the song.

Marques Houston - "Because of You"
I used to be the biggest Immature fan. When I was younger, I had an entire border around my room made up of those one page posters from Word Up!, BlackBeat and Right On! of nothing but Immature. I even had pictures that included the little Chinese boy nobody remembers. After all that, there is no soft spot in my heart for any of the Immature members. I still listen to their old albums and jam, but the new IMX doesn't do it for me. Then came this song. Save for Youmg Rome's (WTF kinda name is that?) rap, this song is really decent. Production by new duo Corna Boyz.

Mariah Carey - "It's Like That" and "We Belong Together"
I'm an undercover Mariah fan. Hell, I didn't even realize until about three years ago when I was going through my CDs and I realized I have four of her LPs and various singles. Then I started paying attention. I like Mariah. She uses phrasing in her songs that you would never expect to hear in pop music. Below I've put some of her lyrics followed by what today's dummies would say:

I can see you clearly
Vividly emblazoned in my mind.
I still think about you.

I am thinking of you
In my sleepless solitude tonight.
Alone in my room, I think of you.

To relive the splendour of you and I.
I wanna go back to how things used to be.

That's unyielding and sacred to me.
It's serious to me.

Underneath the guise of a smile
Gradually, I'm dying inside.
I'm smiling but this shit is tearing me up.

I was a wayward child.
I was a bad ass kid.

I left the worst unsaid
Let it all dissipate.
I let all that bad shit fade away.

It's a shame to be
so euphoric and weak.
Damn you got me open!

I think of our untimely end
Why we break up?

Anyways, back to the matter at hand, both of these songs are hot as hell but "We Belong Together" has been on repeat for three days on my laptop. No lie. This song just hits me. I'm glad Mariah is back...I just hope this time she's not invisible.

Brooke Valentine - "Girlfight"
This song makes me wanna fight some broads. You had betta believe the minute I find out what dumb hoes sent that email, they betta hope this song is not anywhere within my hearing range. Because I will throw this shit on, commence to warming up and then proceed to kick ass. Beligerent behavior aside, this is a good ass song. Lil Jon produced.

Tropical Twist Trident
My new favorite gum. It tastes good, the flavor lasts a long time and you can pop bubbles if you chew two pieces. Plus, it's 84 cents at Walmart.

Nature Valley Oats 'N Honey Granola Bars.
I rarely ever eat breakfast unless I'm at home (St. Louis) and it's Saturday. So here at school if I ever eat breakfast, this is it.

Palmer's Cocoa Butter.
I've been using this religiously for about a month and a half now. It's much more fun than liquid lotion to put on and plus after I hop out the shower I smell extra good with this shit on. Especially at night. Oh yeah, and it makes your skin soft too.

God's Work

2005-03-07T03:00:00.000-07:00

I just finished watching my auntie's production of Their Eyes Were Watching God. The storm scene in there hit me particularly hard. Since I was a little lady I've been obsessed with abnormal weather. And today was one of those days. It's one of those porch sitting nights. Warm, extra windy. Just gorgeous.

Ever since I can remember the weather has played a big part on my emotions. Today triggered some memories of my childhood that I haven't thought about in a long time. So I decided to blog about some various weather conditions and the memories they triggered for me.

Rain
One of my aunties and one of my uncles passed within a year of each other. Both were my mother's siblings. I think they both passed before I hit the age of 10. Both died on rainy days. Every time it would rain hard my mother would put on Sam Cooke. Sam was her brother's (my uncle) favorite artist. On days when she really missed him (sad days) the song was "A Change is Gonna Come". On days where she would remember his silliness and smile, she played "We're Having a Party" and "Twisting the Night Away." To this day, I think about "A Change is Gonna Come" when I see rain. I can see my mother putting on the record and sitting on the couch looking through pictures or cooking something in the kitchen.

Rain always reminds me of reflection. A time to think, a time to evaluate.

Rain also reminds me of the flood of '93. For some reason, my immediate family was in St Louis visiting my extended family. I was either 7 or 8 (depending on what time of year it happened, I can't remember and don't feel like looking it up). Me, my grandmother and two of my cousins had gotten caught in the flood. I don't remember where we were coming from, but I do remember having on a big white dress. My grandmother, who was driving, was trying to concentrate on driving safely, while me and my cousin (who was the same age as me) were asking questions galore. Finally my older cousin, who would have been 12 or 13, got me and my cousin to stop asking questions and start "chasing raindrops" down the windows with our fingers. Funny the things your mind recalls. I know my grandmother was probably scared to death, but we made it out safely and that game kept us occupied for a while.

Wind
Like I said, today is an extremely windy day. Earlier I was walking home from working out and watched as the leaves swirled around in the air about 5 inches off the ground. I took time to appreciate how the tree limbs swayed and the branches buoyed up and down. Then, almost immediately after, I started to think about how my dad taught me to fly kites and how his love for it made me appreciate it. When he would take me out there and try to teach me how to get the kite off the ground and to stay in the air, I would look up at him and see how much care he put into making sure it stayed in the air once it got up. I called him up and we reminisced on it for a second. In the condo complex we lived in for 10 years there was a soccer field. He used to take me down to this soccer field and we would fly kites for hours. I had seriously forgotten about it until today.

Snow
Man, growing up in Cleveland, snow brings back HELLA memories. The snow forts, the stash of snowballs, the snow angels, the slips and falls, the hot cocoa and those ugly ass snowsuits. Man...too many memories and almost all of them good. It's probably why there are few sights more beautiful to me today than a fresh blanket of snow.

Ice
A few years back, there was a terrible ice storm in St Louis. My house sits on a hill and in order to get to the front door you have to walk on an incline. Somehow, St Louis County Schools were not convinced that the ice storm was a worthy reason to cancel school (or it happened during the school day, but I really think I was right the first time) and I ended up going to school. After the bus dropped me off, I started to walk up my driveway like normal to get to my front door. No such luck. It was covered with ice probably an inch to an inch and a half thick. Not even my Timbs would catch onto that stuff. So I try to walk in the grass, up my front lawn and to the door. Uh uh. That too was iced over. So how did I end up getting into my house? I had to crawl up my front lawn, using my keys as ice picks. Not fun, not fun at all.

Damn, this honest blogging can rub off on a person, huh? Ehh, that's enough of that sappiness, memories and whatnot.

Closed. Will Reopen Once Healed.

2005-03-04T16:00:00.000-07:00

This will be my last post about Slim for a while. That Negro has been takin up too much of my blog space and he aint payin' rent. (Wait, neither am I, but still, this is MY spot!) But I figured I better post about Slim before you all tar and feather me! So, for those of you inquiring about sleepovers and abstinence mixing, here goes:

I made sure Slim knew the first time he spent the night over here that there would be nothing going on but sleeping. While he was here, we talked and I let him know that there will be nothing going on in the sexual realm until we got to know each other. (Logical, huh?) So anyways...Hol' up, hol' up!! My fault...I guess I should start out with my reasoning for abstaining, huh?

Alright, here goes. Before we get started, lemme warn you that this is shaping up to be one of those long ass, Gian-type posts, so you might wanna go grab yourself a glass of water and a cookie or two. I'll wait...

*tapping my foot while singing Michael Jackson's "The Way You Make Me Feel"...*

Back? Good, let's get going...

*deep breath* I'm going to attempt to be as honest as some of you other bloggers out there. So here goes....wait, hold on a minute... *emptying my pockets of sarcasm, smart ass comments and ambiguous phrasing* Alright, let's roll.

So far, in my short lil life, I can count on one hand the number of guys I've been with intimately. Then I can put down my thumb, middle, ring and pinkie fingers. Yeah, you followed that right. I've only been intimate sexually with one man in my lifetime. We dated for two and a half years. When we started dating I was 16 and he was 22. I'm sure there are some back entries about him. Not nearly as many as there are on my old blog, but I'm sure he lurks somewhere in here.

Anyways, we had this really serious relationship, entirely too serious for someone my age but probably perfect for him since he was 6 years older than me and ready for a lot of stuff that I wasn't.

When we first started dating, he was the perfect gentleman. Sweet, honest, caring...yadda yadda blase skip...(don't they all start out that way?) As time went on, he stayed that way but I noticed that he always wanted to be FIRST. He always wanted to have me to himself and if I would go out he would call me at LEAST 10 times while I was out. Usually more. It got the point where my friends had to grab my phone from me and turn it off in order for me to have a halfway decent time. He kept up this behavior until I left for college. Right before I left, we got into a really big argument and I laid everything out on the table. I told him I thought he was controlling and too demanding and I was really getting sick of it. He apologized and we went back to normal for a while. A couple weeks later, I packed my stuff and was off to college. Then he really started to act up. He started being extremely verbally abusive to me and calling me every name in the book anytime he felt like it. I would get home from a football game (where I couldn't hear my phone ring) and have 5 voicemails from him calling me all types of hoes, bitches and sluts. At first I was too shocked to even be hurt by it, I mean shit, I was still a virgin. It's like having someone call you a honkie and you are black as night. You just sit there, like "WTF? Are they for real?.." But after a while it did a number on me. Eventually, it got to the point where I felt I needed to talk to him face to face and I went home. We ended up getting in another big ass argument and that was the first time he ever laid his hands on me. I was so extremely hurt that I went straight back to school and wouldn't talk to him for 2 weeks. Eventually we smoothed things over and somehow wound up still together. We carried on with this bullshit for several more months. Then October (03) of my freshman year, he came up to my school and proposed to me. That was the night I lost my virginity. (Gawd, that is the worst saying in the language....I really didn't lose it, I know exactly where it went. But I digress...)I was convinced that it was right and everything between us would only get better from then on.

Shit only got worse. He became even more controlling, demanding crazy shit. Giving me certain times to call him, going online to check my cell phone records and calling my room phone at all times of the night just to make sure I was there. Almost every time I would go home, we would end up in a physical fight. On one trip, we had an especially bad fight and he ended up trying to choke me with his belt. I was hurt, confused, caught up and couldn't find a way to let go of this man whom I'd put so much loving into. Putting up with his ass kept me in a deep ass depression. For two weeks of the spring semester freshman year, I was seriously deeply depressed. I didn't go to class, I wouldn't speak to anyone, I barely ate. I slept the whole day and would be up all night talking to him, trying to make "us" work. My grades slipped. My straight A's and 2 B's ended up being 2 B's and and 4 C's. (Yeah you read that right, that is 6 classes, 18 credit hours and an honor course on top of that. So ya'll know a girl was already stressed without that bullshit.) Anyways, after all those weeks of being nocturnal and depressed and shit I emerged knowing that I couldn't deal with that shit a minute longer. I broke it off for "good"...It was quite sad really. He begged, pleaded and bawled his sorry ass eyes out, but I was unaffected. All I had to do was think of all the shit he put me through and that turned any glimmer of sympathy I may have had into straight stone. We must have talked from 1am to about 9am. He tried every trick in the book to get me to stay with him. Finally, I just told him flat out that he didn't respect me. He denied it up and down, swore I was his Queen and that he always cherished me. I blew a fuckin' lid. I went off, replaying all the shit he'd put me through, all the times he'd hurt me, physically and mentally, and basically just put all his shit out there. He wouldn't say anything about hitting me, but he kept insisting that the only reason he'd repeatedly said those things to me was because he was angry. So I asked his punk ass if he respected his mother. Of course he replied "yes." I asked if he'd ever been angry with her. Again, "yes." Had he ever called his mother a bitch to her face? He hung his head. When he looked up, his eyes were wet and he slowly said "no." I told him that because he respected her and it was ENTIRELY too obvious by the way he treated me that in his mind, I didn't deserve respect. That ended the conversation.

Since then, I've ended up running back to him several times, most recently last October. It was mainly a physical thing, but there was also this deeply mental hold, him being my first and only and all that shit. It got to the point where I would go to his house, we would sit there and he would hold me. We wouldn't speak and then one of us would end up crying because of how shit turned out. We would have sex and then I would end up hating myself because I couldn't release myself from him. And it wasn't that the sex was that good. He was excellent at oral sex, but when it came time for intercourse, things always took a turn for the worst. It wasn't that the sex was bad, let me explain: I like to make love. With me being so fuckin enamored with him and our relationship being turbulent as hell in every other aspect, the one place I thought I could find some tenderness was in the bedroom. Not so...in all the times that we've done it, I can only recall 3 times which would qualify as not ending up with us fucking. And one of those times was after we broke up. I don't know if it was something to do with him physically, but dude would always end up fucking me. And don't get me wrong, that shit is cool sometimes, hell GREAT at the right time, but like I said, I was seeking softness since I couldn't get it anywhere else. Here's a poem about it called "Tough Love". (This brotha wrote an EXCELLENT reply to it, let me know if you want to see it and I will give you all the link in my next post.) Ehh...fukk it...I'll post it later.

Being that he's been my only sexual partner, I decided to abstain from sex. The thought of it just came with too much emotional baggage and every time I would find myself feenin', there was only one place for me to get my fix and I already knew how bad that was for me. I'm not the one for "casual sex" so I always wound up going back to the one person I had real feelings for. So I swore off sex altogether. It was the only way for me to get my mind right and not fall victim to my carnal desires. Plus, I had a feeling that the next guy that I had sex with would find me relaying all my wasted feelings for my ex onto him. And I was way too fragile to have myself get hurt again so soon.

There have been good guys in between but I always felt I wasn't ready. (Not just for sex, for a relationship.) So they got put to the side. I didn't want to hurt them by being too distant and I was also afraid of getting hurt because my spirit was still healing.

I guess Slim just came at the right time. We had a conversation and we decided to just keep things as they are for while and see where things go. And for right now, that's exactly what I want. It would be nice to have a boyfriend, but I know there is still a part of me that fears that the moment we label something, the bullshit will begin. So until I can let go of that, we'll remain where we are.

And where in the hell is that exactly? Shit, I don't know. Slim's been spending a lot of time over here. In fact, he stayed over here last night. We're doing a lot more talking now. At first, it was a lot of playful talk in between deep kisses. I guess we explored our physical attraction to each other first and now that we know that's not going anywhere, we are taking the time to really get to know each other. I was extremely honest with him yesterday and let him know that he's not the only one I'm "talking" (do only Midwest people say that?) to, but that I am really feeling him. He let me know that he's starting to gain some feelings for me. I told him that was nice. I just couldn't find it in myself to lie to him and tell him the same. And I didn't want to. He's great to be around and have around, but I'm the type of person that it takes a while to get to care about someone, but once I do, I REALLY care about you. So for right now, me and Slim will continue to sleep in my SUPER DELUXE bed, have those fun "getting to know you better conversations" and enjoy each other's company while we're out (all between some great kisses, because that boy has some SUPERB lips!). I'll keep you updated...

_______________________

Here's a freewrite I wrote about the whole sex situation and the way I kept going back.

I don't mean to keep letting him slide
in
me
between my legs
feasting on me
saying into me
all that he refused to say
to me
numerous apologies
and sincere feelings
singing "Adore"
into my core
"Love is 2 weak 2 define just what you mean to me"
This language we speak is
so different from the one we first
learned to communicate with
Tongues greet with the passion
of the reunited
fingertips blaze new trails of discovery
to a place
where only one flag has been planted

Dammit, I'm not updating for 3 weeks after this! I don't see how you long posters do it! But there you have it, the Slim update as well as a whole hell of a lot more.

Same Shit, Different Road....

2005-03-02T13:00:00.000-07:00

Here is an old ass observation of mine with a bit of explanation:

The muthafuckas who can't walk straight are the same ones who can't drive worth shit.

Proof? See Aries' Walking Manual (located directly below).

1. Stay on yo damn side!
Here in Ammurika (say it like you are from da LOU . "Nelly-style" for those who still can't place it) we drive on the right side of the road. Apply the same damn rule to walking. It's natural since that is the way we drive. If it's a two-lane sidewalk, walk towards your destination on the right side. Walking on the left side will result in confusion, purposeful tripping by mean ass folk like me and/or the old-fashioned "bump and glare*."

Driving Parallel - Offenders of the worst kind. People who don't understand the concepts of two lane roads and drive in both lanes until an oncoming vehicle comes. People who do not understand the concept of left turns.

*Bump and glare - a move in which the offender is purposely bumped, usually in the shoulder, by a mean ass mofo who purposely lowered their shoulder so as to make direct contact. After the bump, a mean ass stare is directed in the direction of the offender, this completes the bump and glare. It is usually followed by a diverted gaze by the offender or an act of aggression by the executer.

2. Merging.
We've established that you should walk in the same direction that you drive. So, if you see that your "stop" is on the left side, you need to merge into the next lane in order to cause the least amount of disruption possible to the flow of traffic. DO NOT wait until you get directly parallel to the building and then try to abruptly cross 3 lines of walking people just because you fucked up.

Driving Parallel - The people who do this are the same mofos who see their exit sign coming up for 5 miles but wait until the last fuckin minute to dart across 4 lanes of traffic to make it there. Also, people who stop in the lane until somebody lets them over so that they can exit.

3. Use the shoulder.
(Before I proceed, I must admit I'm guilty of this, but I'm a cool ass mutha so I can do dat. Plus I DARE somebody to say sumthin to me!) If you need to have a conversation that simply cannot happen simultaneously with the movement of your feet, DO NOT stop in the middle of the walkway and conduct your conversation. Pull yo ass over to the side until that shit concludes.

Driving Parallel - People who stop in the middle of the road and hold conversations with a car next to them, blocking all traffic. People who hold conversations with folks from the hood who run up to their car and hang in the window.

4. Preparation for traffic.
If you need to retrieve something, do it before you come into the flow of walking traffic. DO NOT disrupt traffic by slowing down find your iPod, cigarettes or ringing cellphone in your bag. Have that shit handy.

Driving Parallel - Folks who get out at red lights to get something from their trunk and don't make it back in time for the light to turn green. Folks who put on makeup, eat REAL ass meals, change clothes and/or shoes, and do their hair while driving. Take care of that shit before you get on the road!

Hoes, Pimps and Pros

2005-02-28T12:32:00.000-07:00

So, you all have seen the itinerary, let me tell you how it went down.

The Sex Store -
Last summer, when me and my "best" friends would get bored, we would head right to a novelty sex shop. That shit will entertain (and inform) you for at least 2 hours. So yesterday, when me and some of the girls from my school went to the store, I felt like old times. We were up in there acting a STRAIGHT fool. Messin' with everything. All in the name of love for our friend. The birthday girl is the type who embarasses VERY easily, so we decided to get her some gag gifts. This is what we settled on:

A Kuma Sutra Book
Just because everyone needs a little variety in the bedroom and sometimes the imagination just quits. That's when you mentally refer back to page 69 (yeah, that was WAY too easy, but so what?) and flip dat shit on his ass.

Some Dick Mints
Hey, you can't be getting any if your breath is tart enough to cure milk, right? What better shape to pop? lol

A Shot Glass
Of course it was shaped like a lil bitty ding-a-ling, come on now, follow the pattern....

A Pillow
I saw this and JUST had to get it. It's black, furry, soft as hell, about 10 inches long and of course shaped like a.....? Good job, I knew that you would catch on! The balls on that piece are humongous!

A "Special" Button
Around a black button, there is very festive writing and decorations and it says - "Make My Day, Press Me!" Before we gave her any of the gifts, I walked up to her and pinned it on. Then, she had someone press it. Out pours these loud ass orgasmic moans and sighs. It's very sensual and what's so funny about it is the fact that it doesn't stop for like a full minute. It's so long and embarassing..I love it.

Now, you all are probably thinking - What the fukk kinda freaky ass birthday party is this shit? Stop all that right there. Before you go off thinking that we are some "all-out Adina Howard, freak all day-errry day" girls, let me tell you that my girl had some strippers coming up here for her birthday, so we were just following the theme.

___________________________

The strippers were scheduled to go on at 8. I don't think they came out until about 8:30. By that time, there was a room full of about 15 females that were all ready to see some freaky shit.

First out was Quiet Storm. This brotha was bangin'. About 6'3", thick as all get out, and perfectly manicured locs that stopped right before his shoulders. Perfection manifested. (Ok, of course that is an exaggeration, but live in the fantasy for a moment. ) He worked the HELL outta us, and as he was dancing and looking me deep in the eyes, I smiled. He smiled back and that negro had the nerve to have a dimple! Oooh it was over! If homeboy didn't go around bouncin is booty for a living, he mighta be hubby material.

The "main attraction" was a brotha by the name of Total Passion. I wasn't too enamored with him. But he is a talented brotha. Any human who can move their tongue that damn fast deserves a fuckin medal and a bronze bust made of their tongue.

Then both of their asses came back out and finished the show. Those brothas worked for every dollar! It was all good fun. Some girls felt a little uncomfortable because some shit happened that they promised their significant others' wouldn't happen. But hey, we were living by the Brian McKnight creed last night - "What we do stays here." Get ya minds out the gutta, it wasn't no supa freaky shit goin' on. Just what I presume to be regular private stripper happenings. But those with handcuffs on and under arrest by monagomy felt the need to reassure the
ir other halves that it meant nothin. Silly, if you ask me. Strippers are strippers. Pure entertainment.

EDIT: After finding out about some shit that went on at the party, I feel compelled to speak on this shit. So as not to put anyone out, I will make this a "Don't Do" list.

Things NOT TO DO with a stripper.:

Under no circumstance are you to kiss him. Especially, let me say it again, especially after you have just seen his face implanted between the legs of EVERY girl in the room.
Do NOT give that Negro your number. Strippers are strippers, I cannot reinterate that enough. They are entertainment, not fuckable specimen. You think they don't get free sex thrown at them after almost every performance? Come on now...!
Do NOT jack them off. WTF? That is all.
Do NOT brag out loud that you would even fuck the tip man (the little negro who ran around pickin dollars up off the floor), the strippers WILL hear you and I'm pretty sure they will discuss the possibility of a Midnight Train running directly through your station.

That's enough and I think I got the main offenders. Now, you may or may not agree with the above guidelines, but take a good look at the name on the bottom of the post. I run this shit! LOL

Back to your regulary scheduled programming....

__________________________

Slim spent the last two nights over here. For those inquiring about my abstinence and sleepovers and how well the two mix (or don't), I will likely be posting about that 2morrow or later today.

_______________________

And as for the title of this post, it really doesn't have anything to do with anything. It's just something I say when my friends call my phone. So don't be reading any "deep" meaning into it.

______________________

Oh, and if you tried to IM me last night....my badz. My AIM is on that GOOD crack/heroin/something to fuck it up.....I'll be putting it through detox soon.

This is the life

2005-02-26T14:25:00.000-07:00

My Day:

11:00 am - Wake up

11:45 am - Make a trip to the sex store to get some gag gifts for my friend's birthday.

3:30 pm - Return from sex store and shopping.

4:00 pm - Pick out clothes.

5:00 pm - Start getting ready to leave.

6:00 pm - Leave house, funky-fresh, dressed to impress and ready to party.

6:30 pm - Arrive at my girl's house, talk shit and eat.

7:00 pm - Watch my girl open her gifts and laugh when she gets embarassed by the gifts.

7:30 pm - Stripper arrives.

8:00 pm - SHOWTIME!

9:45 pm - Stripper concludes performance.

10:00 pm - Girls sit around and talk shit, reflect on the show and play some cards.

11:30 pm - Head to the club.

1:30 am - Leave the club and go home.

1:30am - ? - Spend the night with Slim.

Ahhh...I'll let ya'll know how it goes.

I Always Get What I Want (When I Know What That Is...) part two

2005-02-24T11:35:00.000-07:00

Cue my soap opera music, Gian!

*smoke curls across the screen and the faces of Aries and Slim slowly come into focus...*

Today on "Analog Girl in a Digital World":

...So, as we lay there, his arms around my shoulders and my head in his "nook" (as Carrie from Sex and City calls it), we quickly realize that neither of us are watching the movie and that we should turn it off. We click off the movie and snuggle up under the covers. We start off on opposite sides of my SUPER DELUXE bed, but eventually I find my way over to him and he wraps his arm around me. We lay like that for a minute and talk. Then he said something fairly interesting and I gave him a deep stare over my shoulders. His eyes met mine for a second and then he quickly looked towards the ceiling and said "Don't be shootin' them sexy looks at me, girl..." So ya'll know I had to do it again. This time his gaze held mine and the next thing you know our lips were meeting. Ya'll know those movies kisses where two people look at one another, run across the room and suddenly they are all over each other, skirts are half up and shirt buttons are bouncin' across the floor?

Yeah...it wasn't like that.

It was a real deep, slow kiss. Like the handshake of a person you meet for the first time, but you're attracted to them and so you grip their hand firmly and hold it just a second too long? Now imagine that being a kiss....there it is.

It was nice. Passionate, but not reckless.

After a while, I felt the need to break the mood a little bit. Things were getting intense and it felt too right. (Or maybe I've just been out of service for too long). But naw, for real, I felt really good with him, comfortable, and everything was just flowing. A MAJOR plus because I hate for things to feel forced...So anyways, I get my ass up and go to the bathroom to change out of my drawstring pants because I HATE to sleep with pants on unless it is extremely cold. Now, ya'll know I couldn't find no regular shorts. I had to go get the cutest pair in my arsenal and slip into those. The ones that hit JUST below the booty, so when I walk, he can get a slight peek. Not ho-ish, just seductively cute. So I climb back in the bed and from then on he can't keep his hands to himself. I can't make it sound like it was all his fault, my hands were a-roaming too. With each and every kiss, the passion mounted and I could feel all those months of celibacy/abstinence (there's your answer, Diggs) rushing right between my thighs. Gotdammit. I finally break away from his lips, turn my back on him and tell him to try to sleep. Ya'll know he wasn't hearing that. He took one look at my back and my exposed shoulders and got to kissing. As soon as he dropped a kiss on the back of my neck, I swear I felt Niagra Falls coursing through my body. A heavy make-out session followed, but still he got no goodies. So for those of you waiting for the triple-X details (Star), sorry to disappoint. Gimme a little while and then I'll see if I can stir up some Gian-like worthy blog sex.

Here is one of my entries from right after he left:

(Notice I said ONE of my entries. Don't even try to guess how many I've written on him, I'm sure I'll divulge later.)

It was on my mind from the time he walked into my room. It was already determined that he would spend the night, and I let him know that we would be SLEEPING. From the time we laid down and he put his arm around me, it had already raced through my head hundreds of times. Ask him, ask him, my mind bugged me. Finally, after an especially long kiss, I looked him in the eyes and blurted it out - "What are you looking for?" He didn't play dumb and do the "What do you mean?" thing I expected him to do. His answer was honest (I think) and earned him points. He said he was looking for someone to be with, a girlfriend... You know what, I can't even remember the exact words, but his answer satisfied me. He basically let me know that he wasn't looking for a fuck-buddy (one thing I will NEVER be) and searching for that person who will be there with him that he can depend on. He told me the reason I figured he was all about sex (which I didn't but he thought I did because I kept reinterating how there was to be no sex of any kind in my room that night) is because we were laying right next to each other and he finds me to be sexually stimulating and it seemed like our hands couldn't stay to themselves. (which was true so I let him slide....Off the hook, not inside of me, you freaks!! lol..).

The next day, after we had been off the phone for about an hour, he sent me a text that said - "you asked me. but what are you looking for?" I quickly hit the "reply" button and poised my thumb over the keypad to type out a (shortened) list of things of what it is exactly I am looking for. 10 seconds later, I was still staring at an empty screen. I'll be damned. I'm not sure I know.

I love to be in love. I love relationships and being "someone's". But, now every time I think of relationships, I think of posession and a short happy period followed by a longer period of generally unhappiness. I'm not sure I want a boyfriend. I know I can't have a fuck buddy or a "friend with benefits" because I'm far too selfish and too inclined to get emotionally attached for that. So what in the HELL do I really want? Sometimes being single gets so lonely, but for the most part I enjoy it. And I think that's just the general "freedom" idea because I was mentally and emotionally bound for so long by someone who stifled my growth as a person.

I can ask the questions, but I'm not sure if I have the answers.

What in the hell do I want? I know I'll try my hand at a real relationship one day, but when? Is it too soon after my heartbreak to give it another go? Or has it been long enough? Will I ever truly know that I am ready to try to love again? Will I ever be able to open myself up to someone enough to even allow the possibility of love creepin' in? I'll be damned if I'm not confused. I would say I'll just go with the flow and see what happens, but I've done that before and it ends with me detaching myself emotionally and adding another name to my list of plain-old "guy-friends." I've let you in, analyze me. It's obvious that I don't know what I want, so maybe one of you all can play Dr Phil and expose my inner longing...

Sorry this sucka is SO long...it be's that way today.

Slim (Part I)

2005-02-22T23:45:00.000-07:00

These are a series of entries that I've been contemplating on whether or not to put up. I finally put some together and decided to post 'em. I can't remember who asked me in my little Q&A session about Valentines' and recieved my answer that I have a couple, but I can say for sure that one who reads my blog may not be too happy about what follows. So I considered not posting this, but then again, it's my blog and I refuse to censor myself. I had to do that too much on my other blog. Not again. So if you are offended by the following, just remember whose page this is and that the little "x" in the top right hand corner will get yo ass outta here quick, fast and in a hurry.

Thursday 2/17-

Tonight we went bowling. It was a special promotional night in which they gave away certain cash prizes if you knocked over the special "colored" pins when they called your lane. I won a WHOLE quarter! LMAO...we had fun though! Somewhere in between my strong-as-hell Long Island Iced Tea and my cutie from Philly calling me, I felt some tension work its way down my spine, around into my stomach and straight between my legs. Frustrated, I told my friend I was going to call it a night and take my ass home to read my Bible. (Seem contradictory to have ass and Bible in the same sentence? Deal wit' it.) However, I wasn't really quite ready to call it a night and figured I might as well go work out some tension on the dance floor.

We make our way to the usual spot, which has only been poppin for about 3 months. But with the recent strings of MIPS (Minors in Posession of alcohol) they've been hit with, their dance floor was especially empty. So we head right across the street to the old spot, which was once again jumping. I had a ball in there, dancing to every freakin song that came on and throwin my St Louis "L" in the air whenever Nelly graced the speakers (and believe me, it was a LOT). Somewhere in the process of me doing the "Kansas City Shake" and stepping with my boy, I notice this cutie from another college on the dance floor. (I was on the stage). I've seen him before, even held short conversations with him, but tonight he was looking especially cute. So I play all the games. Look up and catch his eye and then look away only to look back and find out he's still staring. Grab one of my guy friends and gyrate on him while looking the cutie directly in his eyes. You know, all the usual college games. All the while, I'm thinking to myself he is looking really good tonight. I tell my friend that I think he is cute and then go about my business.

Afterwards, when we are walking away from the club, I hear this guy yell out "hey girl in the red!" Now,if this was STL, or any other CITY, there is no way in HELL I would have turned around, but this is the 'Ville and I knew exactly why they were calling me. Turns out it was his boy, who does the whole agent-like, middle-man "my boy wants to holla at chu, but he's kinda shy" shit, which I HATE, but for some reason let slide tonight. His boy then saunders up, introduces himself, apologizes and gets on his boy for putting him on "front street" then proceeds to spit his lil game. Nothin fancy. I tell him to walk me to the car, give him the cell number and tell him to be easy.

Friday, 2/18-

He shoots me a little text that says, "Hey it's (we will call him) Slim, the guy you met at Molly's. I wanted to call you tonight, but I got practice until 12, but let me know if you will be up and I'll call you." Hmmm...considerate, unassuming...check and check. It just so happened that I was working that night and didn't get off until 4, so I told him to give me a call when he got out. He called at exactly 12:06 and we talked basically my entire shift until my battery ran out at about 3 am. The next day, he lets me know that he wants to come see me but would it be alright if he "slept over"? We had already discussed the night before how often he comes up here and I had informed him that I have an extra bed, but I had pushed it next to mine to make one giant bed. He told me he would have to push them apart. I shoot him a text that says "yeah, you can SLEEP over here. That's all." He agrees and says he'll see me soon. He gets in town about 11 pm to party and asks me to come to the club with him. I'm not really in the club mood, so I tell him to just come back to my spot when he is done. He shows up about 1:20 and we sit around and talk for a while. He sits at my laptop and starts picking out music. He clicks on India Arie's "Good Man" and sings EVERY WORD. Say word?!? His stock shot up 3% on that ALONE. If you haven't heard that song, at least google the lyrics so you can know why it was so shocking to me. It's not your average nigga song. Hell, almost nobody I know has even heard it, much less knows all the words. His taste in music proved to be decent and his conversation just as funny in person as over the phone. He's a natural shit-talker like me so a lot of our conversation centered on talking smack about each other's schools and getting to know each other in between. As we kept talking, my contacts started to bother me, so I slipped into the bathroom and took both of them out. Now, you all don't know, I DON'T DO THAT. Even around people I know, I keep at least ONE contact in at all times. I am blind as hell (to me) without my contacts and I never wear my glasses (although they are cute and complement my face). So here I am with Slim, who I barely know (but feel like I've known for a while), blind as hell to anything that's not 3 feet in front of my face and feeling perfectly at ease. A situation and a feeling that is not familiar to me.

Eventually, we realized that it was about that time to get some sleep. We ended up not pushing my beds apart and slipped under the covers with Man On Fire playing on my laptop. (Don't ask, yes I have a TV, but that's not the point.) As the first couple of scenes unfold we had both propped our heads up on the pillows and were pretending to be paying attention to the movie. In reality, we were sneaking peeks at each other the whole time. It was cute. After about 10 minutes, he starts rubbin' my shoulder, complimenting me for having "soft as hell skin" and does some over exaggerated move, ending with his arm around my shoulders. I look to see if he was for real and he makes this goofy as hell face, eyes all wide and innocent and lips pursed like, "who me?" Real cute. I laugh at his goofiness and settle into his loose embrace.

Alright, this will be a two part-er I see. I should be studying, because I have a test at 8 am tomorrow. But I decided to blog in order to funnel some energy and help me concentrate. Stay tuned tomorrow to find out what happens after I get comfortable in his arms and we bury ourselves deeper under the covers....*cue wack ass blog exit music*

I's Married Now!! (Or someday, at least...)

2005-02-21T12:20:00.000-07:00

As "T-Shirt and Panties" plays in the background...

Yesterday on Analog Girl in a Digital World (btw,if you clicked that, you're drove, you're already here!): Since I had to go back and listen to Adore in order to tell Diggs what part ol' boy messed up on, I decided to respond to everyone else's comments first, then come back. Well, by that time, I had already completed a short novel worth of response. So I decided to blog on Diggs comment to number 37 on my 100 truths and no lies list.

As I've mentioned, I'm a romantic at heart. When I do love, it is all-consuming. I am one of those muthafuckas folks hate to see in love because I radiate. I smile every time he's mentioned and the mere whisper of his name may incite butterflies in my stomach. When I think of the way he touches me, I get shivers up my spine. My lips ache from kissing him all night. I silently touch my thighs under restaurant tables while out with the girls and remember how passionate last night was. I limit my show-stopping performances on dance floors in order to be with him. Don't get me wrong, I don't change my whole life or no shit like that. I'm actually not clingy at all, but when I have a man I like to be with him. And I like to please him. (So long as he realizes that I need ALL the same shit right back. Say it with me: r-e-c-i-p-r-o-c-i-t-y.)

With that said, if my husband was bringing home enough cheddar to keep me living the life I've become accustomed to, and children are in the plan or God has already blessed us with some, I could picture myself being a houswife/stay-at-home mom. Of course, from my skewed, not-yet-two-decades old viewpoint, being a housewife to me entails:

1. Getting to shop in the middle of the day when malls are least busy.
2. Going to the gym at least 5 days a week in order to keep everything tight.
3. Learning how to cook amazing meals for my husband and having them ready when he gets home. Family meals, or getting to sit and watch him enjoy the food. I truly believe cooking is love.
4. The ability to greet him at the door in sexy lingerie and various other stimulating shit. B.K (before kids), of course. A.K., the meeting will have to be in the bedroom.
5. Getting to have beautiful children and be incredibly involved in raising them. PTA meetings, help with homework, dance lessons, football practice - all that TV shit.
6. Getting to work in my community and perhaps deal with battered women. (Which is a goal of mine.)

Sounds like an idealized dream doesn't it? Yeah, I know. Hence my quest to find a college football player with MADD potential who will sign a HUGE contract, get a serious (but non-life threatening) injury in his second year and be able to live off his first year earnings for the rest of our lives. Maybe with him doing some speaking events here and there. Please don't kill my dream...the world will do it in time.

@ Diggs: old boy from the Spike Lee joint? His brother, Calvin, spoke at my university today. He's actually quite a good speaker.

What Goes Around....

2005-02-20T12:43:00.000-07:00

For lack of a real topic and since everyone is doing their 100 lists and shit...this is mine from way back when (Dec 12).

100 Truths and No Lies

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.

****EDITED TO ADD*******

101. For Gian, who just had to catch the fact that I had a repeat on there. ummm....I've been playing guitar off and on for 4 years. There, Mr. Observative!

Here is a bonus:
102. I refer to Oprah as my auntie. My mother even calls her that. One day we will meet and she will take me in and make me the sole heir of her TV fortune...I just know it.

MegaMix

2005-02-15T00:23:00.000-07:00

(that title sounds like this entry will really be about something, doesn't it? Eh eh....it won't. Read on....)

What will Black people do when Johnnie Cochran dies? Think about it. That will be a sad day in Black history. Here are a few scenarios (Edit: I got tired so there's only one) to help you picture the impact that loss would have.

Terrell and Shaun, two NBA players, are sitting around, chilling in a plush hotel room.

Terrell: *puff puff* *LOOONG inhale* Shiiiet, dawg. Here, gon' head and hit that! This is some prime shit!
Shaun: Naw, I'm cool, cuz.
Terell: Nigga, gon' head and hit that! I got the wet, rolled up towel by tha door, ain't nobody gon be bustin in here!
Shaun: I said, I'm cool, cuz.
Terrell: What the fuck is wrong with you, mayun? Yo ass don't smoke no mo' now? Well, fuck all that bullshit, I'm 'bout to call up Rachel and Monica. Remember dem? The redhead and the blonde that was outside after the game? *starts to dial the number from a small piece of paper*
Shaun: I think I'm just gonna go on home to wifey, man. *starts to get up*
Terrell: For real? You was the one talkin' about how fine these broads were...now you tryin' ta dip? Mayun, what the fuck is wrong with you? You aint never been the type to pass up no free pussy. Fuck is da deal??!!
Shaun: JOHNNIE'S DEAD, NIGGA!! That's what the fuck the deal is!! I can't be doin that shit no mo'!! Suppose we up and get caught or some shit? Them hoes wanna scream some Kobe type shit on us? Who the fuck is gon be there to get my black ass out that mess?? Naw man...them days is long gone. Fuck the bullshit... *grabs his coat and walks out*
Terrell: *looks around, takes one more hit of the blunt, then walks to the bathroom and flushes the rest. He walks over to the window, opens it and begins to fan the air out into the night sky*
Shiiiet, that nigga got a point...
*grabs a hotel towel and quickly dusts his fingerprints off the lighter, the "stash" box and the phone*
That nigga is right!! My ass is trippin! Johnnie ain't here no mo'!! Let me get my ass up outta here!!!

LOL...Negros would be trippin!! NBA stars would be with their wives, weed stock among the rich and famous would plummet and Negros might have to make a "Fuck The Police Part 2" featuring P.Diddy, Ja Rule and Michael Jackson, because of all the shit that would go down. That would be a sad day, I tell ya.

_____________________________

I LOVE this John Mayer song "Daughters."

I've done all that I can
to stand on the steps with my heart in my hands
but I started to see
Maybe it's got nothing to do with me

Fathers be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do

If those aren't some true lyrics! I have so many friends that attribute their problems with men to their problems with their fathers. And that's not to say that every girl whose daddy is not "perfect" will be a failure in love. But Dad is the first example you have as a young woman of what a man should be. And when you have a good one (like me), you are that much more prepared to know what a man should act like.

_______________________________________

Am I the only one who sees that "Candy Shop" is nothing but "Magic Stick Part II"? It's even got a similar melody. Go ahead, sing the Magic Stick chorus instead of the Candy Shop chorus next time it's on.

That doesn't stop me from singing it tho!! And I LOVE Olivia at the end of the video. Either she is a straight homegirl for real or she has a little acting in her blood.

________________________________________

Anybody seen the movie "Strictly Business"? The old school one with Tommy Davidson and Halle Berry? Is it just me, or does Wayman look like AJ from 106 & Park? Just a thought...

____________________________________

I got my hair twisted up again in two strands. This takes HOURS....This time someone new did my hair. She was the sister of the lady that normally does my braids. After we sat and talked as she was doing my hair, she busted out with: "You're an Aries." Just like that. For real. She stated it all matter-of-factly, no question in her voice AT ALL. Now, contrary to the screenname, I'm not all that into zodiac shit. I know my sign's traits and I know that they fit me quite well, but for someone to be able to assess me like that after only knowing me for a few hours was bananas.

____________________________________

I NEVER want to hear people say there are no ugly babies in the world. I'm looking at this little boy on Soul Food, and I KNOW in my spirit that he had to be an ugly baby. His hairline starts in the middle of his fuckin' forehead. I'm sorry, but that aggravates me. Don't be frownin' up talking 'bout: "Damn, Aries, you mean...." Ugly babies/kids grow up to be ugly adults, and no one has a problem talking about them do they? Well den, let's move on....

______________________________________

Isn't it amazing the lies people will tell when given the chance? For real, ask someone you think to be a liar a question that is open ended. Make sure you already know the answer. Hell, they can even know that you know. It's all in the delivery. Furrow your brow, blink a few times and look real inquisitive as you ask it. Watch them spew out the most unbelievable bullshit. It's really quite funny.

____________________________________

OK, here it is time for your participation.

Topic: Exactly how important is perception? We had a very long conversation in my Student Union today about whether or not it's really important to have people percieve you to be the person you really are. I was on the side that argued that it is important to a certain extent. That is basically your reputation. And if you have a terrible rep, that shit can follow you fo' life!! (Sorry, Ice Cube moment there...) We were trying to basically trying to convince this guy to be subtle but do some damage control and let people know that he was not who they think he is.
However, he brought up some ignant (yes, igNANT) ass points in the convo. Among them:

- He doesn't care if everyone thinks that he only likes white girls
Well damn, bruh. I'm guessing you came to school to get a degree, which means you plan on being here for an average of 4 years. He's a good-looking guy, so I know he could be getting bookoo (thanks brutha-free, for resurrecting that word) ass if he wanted. Hell, he could get it from me on the right day with a little better attitude and a small amount of cocoa butter spread on his extremely chisled chest and abs. But, wait...I digress...
So in these 4 years, he will want some ass. If all the SISTAS think that all you want is white girls and after 2 years you finally get tired of jacking off and decided to holla at one of us, do you think we will want you? Hell naw, you look like the fuckin Wesley Snipes of the University! So he will either be stuck with white girls or put a hospital glove on that hand and get a brand new feeling.

- No one his age can teach him anything
WTF? This is where I jumped in. "Don't you know it's possible for someone to be the same age as you and have a lot more experience than you in at least one aspect of life?" Hell, that is like saying a 23 year old ho, who has been fuckin and suckin since before God said "let there be light" can't teach a 23 year old virgin how to put a vaccum grip on a nigga's light saber. (haha...i said light saber!!...)Come on now...

- He doesn't need to speak to anyone
How the fuck does this dude expect to get ahead in life if he isn't at least cordial towards people? The more I think about him, the more idiotic he looks. And it's sad because he is a smart guy. He's just socially retarded.

Anyways, back to the question: How important is others perception of you?

According to my impersonator (look directly below, a bitch is too tired to link), I walk around like my shit don't stink. After I told that to my boy and we talked about snobs, he told me it's not that my shit doesn't stink, it's that my shit stinks the BEST. LMAO...

DUMB HOES!!!!

2005-02-14T14:29:00.000-07:00

I wasn't gonna blog on this.

I swear I wasn't.

But THESE HOES up here BEG to be talked about.

This morning, I checked my school account email to find an email from "myself". My full name (first and last) was listed in the "from" section. Curious, I click on it and up pops this wack ass poem stating that I'm a hypocrite and a hater and all this crazy shit. So now I'm thinking this is someone who doesn't like something I said in a poem and wanted to try their hand at writing a poem "back" to me. Whatever. I proceed to class and don't give it a second thought. When I get back to the room, I open it up again. As soon as I clicked it open, my girl calls me and says "what's going on?" The tone is her voice alerted me and I immediately asked if she recieved an email from "me". She had, along with 3 of my other friends. So we took that shit to the campus police and the computer services to file charges and see who the hell this is coming from. This shit is elementary. Who the fuck takes the time to create a free yahoo account, put my name as the sender and write a fuckin poem tailor made for us? Shouldn't you be studying or some shit?? And the funny part is, this bitch sent the email that was supposed to be from me on a weekend when my ass was in St Louis. And everybody knows, when I go home, the 'Ville doesn't exist. I don't check SHIT, I don't call anybody, I barely log onto my comp unless I can't sleep. So the perp could have at the very LEAST asked around and made sure that I was here so that it at least looked like I could have done it. DAMN. Stupid hoes. I cannot wait to find out (even though I have a GOOD idea) who did it, so I can show this ho something I like to call my "dumb ho beaters". They say you haven't arrived until you have haters, but DAMN, can you at least show your face?

Current music: Brooke Valentine - "Girlfight"

The poem is bad. REALLY bad. But leave me a comment and let know if you want to see it and I'll post that 2nd grade shit.

***Edited on Feb 15 to add the wack ass poem***
Here is this wack shit, the exact way I recieved it - verbatim. I TOLD you it was bad. And that's another thing that pisses me off, putting my name on this wack ass shit, as if I'm capable of writing straight doo doo. LOL

My Personal Hater Poem:
You talk the good talk
You tell what you know,
You think that you have all of the answers
You put on a real good show.

You say not to do something
But you do it the same,
When somebody else does it
You call them out of their name.

You are lacking in areas but yet
You put down someone else,
You need to stop focusing on what I'm doing
Pay attention to yourself.

You need to realize who you are
You will find out sooner than later,
You criticize and you judge
You are a hypocrite and a hater.

Why? Who are you?
Don't walk around like your shit don't stink,
Before you open your mouth
You need to stop and think.

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful
Don't hate me because I'm smart,
Don't hate me because I'm always smiling
Don't hate me because of the kindness of my heart.

Don't be mad at me because you are mean and
People don't respond well to you,
Think about some of the things that you say and
Some of the things that you do.

There are too many things going on
To be focusing on what I'm doing,
A personality or sense of humor
Should be what you are pursuingu feel so special??

Oh, yeah, the title is: Don't you feel special? Celebrate it and embrace the two h's. We figured that the two h's are "hater" and "hypocrite". Go figure. I'm thinking of memorizing this shit and doing an "impromptu" performance of it in the Student Union on a day where the suspected bitch is in there. I mean, jump up on that little platform we have in there and spit this like it's the hottest shit since "Juicy" while looking DIRECTLY at the bitch I think wrote it. LMAO...I think I will...

The Education of Aries

2005-02-10T05:08:00.000-07:00

Me and my boy like to do lists. In the past three days alone we've done these lists:
- Old (over 40) people that could still "get it"
- Top 7 Jordan designs
- Top 5 Greatest Runningbacks of all time
- Top 5 Male R&B Singers of All-Time
- Top 5 Female R&B Singer of All-Time
- Classy Women (the quintessential "ladies")
- Top 10 Craziest Folks in Show Biz
- White Celebs that could "get it"

Then we got around to hip-hop. We did the male MC's and then it came time for the females. My pick for number one? None other than my girl L-Boogie. Agree or don't, I could care less. No female emcee lyrics have ever had the effect that Boog's have for me. So a la Suezette and recent Diggs (check the sidebar, it's 5 am, too late to be linking), I've decided to break down some aspects of my life, past and present, using lyrics, from L-Boog of course, as the springboards.

"And even after all my logic and my theory, I add a 'muthafucka' so you ignant niggas hear me"
I'll never forget the first time I performed a piece up here. It was titled "Tough Love" and at the time it was very dear to my heart because it was based on a situation that I was still in. So I went up there, performed it, gave it my all and it was met with wild applause. That's supposed to be a good thing...right?

Let me give you some background info on the piece. It's about the difference between making love and fucking. (Now granted, there is a time for both, but that is neither here nor there) In it, I depict a situation that occured quite often in my relationship at the time. I would try to make love and show him how much he meant to me and somehow we would end up fucking. (Once again, there is NOTHING wrong with fucking - it has it's time.) Some of you may be able to feel me on this. But EVERYTIME I tried to make love to him, he would end taking it to that XXXX rating.

So, here I am, trying to put this situation into words and how it made me feel and I've just put my all into this performance and recieved mad applause. So I feel good...until after the set. Anyone who has ever been on stage knows that it's after the performance that you really get to hear what people thought. So, after a few people came up and told me how they enjoyed it, there was a string of about 4 people that told me that my piece made them all hot and bothered. WTF? Wait a minute, you are not supposed to feel sexy after that! You are supposed to feel my pain, feel the emotional torment that situation caused me....aww fuck it...such is the dilemma of a poet.

There are just some pieces that fly over the heads of others that you know in your heart you can't change. And sometimes I do feel obligated to add that "muthafucka" or that "LISTEN TO THIS!!" line right before I have a big point, just to be sure those not quite up to par people get what I want them to out of it, but then I say...eh well....fuck that. I'm not compromising my shit for anybody.

___________________________

"See hoochies pop coochies, for Gucci's and Lucci
Find me in my Mitsubishi, eatin' sushi, bumpin' Fugees."
As I'm sure I've mentioned before, the majority of Black males that attend my university are here because of athletics. On a campus where there are under 200 domestic (read: descendents of slaves) Blacks, the dating pool is VERY slim.

Enter the Becky's and Susan's and Melissa's of the world. These hoes (and yes, I mean that in the sexual way) prey on my Black brothers and look at them with green money bags dancing across their pupils. They know that the men that come out of here have a very good chance of being successful in the pro leagues and at life in general. So they run around with no shame, legs open like express lanes and throats relaxed. Now, I can't fully blame them, these niggas must take some of the guilt too. But, I am sick of seeing it. And the sad thing is, these negros see nothing wrong in partaking of the free goodies as long as they don't enter into serious relationships with them. Hello? Have we learned nothing from these famous Negros currently going through courts because of some shit that was "just sex?"

Then these same negros get mad because none of the Black girls wanna get with them. Well let's see, you've been through the entire freshman AND sophomore rush class of XYZ sorority (and those white orginizations rush like 30 at a time!) and you expect me to listen to you, much less fuck with you? Hell naw! And not only that, but you wanna sit there and think that you can talk to me any kinda fuckin way? No thank you Negro, you can find me in my Nissan, eating salad and croutons and listening to that new Legend, John.

____________________________

"I was blessed, but couldn't feel it like when I was caressed
I'd spend nights clutching my breasts overwhelmed by God's test
I was God's best contemplating death with a Gillette
But no man is ever worth the paradise MANIFEST"
Whew...this is another day, but just know that this spoke to my situation SO well at one time.

_____________________________

"Tell me, who I have to be
To get some reciprocity"
When in love, I give my all. I have to keep referring back to my last relationship, because if you haven't guessed by now, that nigga put me through hell. But all that aside, it's the relationship I learned the most from. I gave him my ALL. I was 16 when we started dating, he was 22. I was the one driving cross-city to see him. I skipped programs intended to get me ahead in life to spend 30 minutes driving to see him and 15 minutes actually being with him. I sacrificed my relationships with my mom, my dad and my friends I've had for YEARS all to be with him. I did anything he asked. I cooked (I don't cook for my damn self!), I cleaned, I rolled blunts that never touched my lips. I pulled my car up on the sides of buildings I'd never been to in my life, pulled alongside vehicles with tints and didn't know who was inside of them. I cut school and lied to almost everyone. All out of a desperation to be with him. I was his confidant, his mother, his sister, his girl, his virgin, his freak, his spiritual partner, his wife and his "business partner." I played so many roles for this nigga that I forget who the hell I truly was.

In the final stages of out relationship, I found that a lot of our arguments centered around him saying that I treated him like "the low man on the totem pole" and me getting irate and having to run down all the shit I did for him. It always ended up with me asking when he was going to do for me. When I would recieve 1/10 of the devotion and dedication I put in. When I realized I was never going to get any of it back, I started looking at myself, wondering what I did wrong, wondering if I didn't do enough (ha!).Then I realized all that shit I was doing wasn't me. It was me being who he wanted. And I came to the conclusion that in order to get back what I put in, I have to give of MYSELF, not someone else's idea of who I should be.

____________________________

"Just as Christ was a Superstar, you stupid, Star
They hail you then nail you, no matter who you are"
I would love to post this on the forehead of EVERY arrogant negro that I know. Our society centers itself so much around pop culture that we forget to humble ourselves. But it's so true that the same people that make you can break you. It doesn't matte who you are, you never know when the tables will turn and the Mercedes you were riding in yesterday becomes the house you are living in today.

____________________________

"Expert witness (the paid authority)
Made a priority to deceive the majority
Of disinterested peers
Dodging duty for years
Hating the process
waiting to be returning to their careers"
If that doesn't describe our court system, I don't know what does. The corruption of the judicial branch is the main reason I am trying to stray away from law school. I don't think I have the heart to see a system that is made of serve the people and reveal those that are innocent repeatedly prosecute those who are the poorest.

_________________________

"Loving you is a like a song I replay
Every three minutes and thirty seconds of every day",
Excerpt from one the nicest verses ever (if you ask me). I didn't get the impact of this statement until about 2 years ago. Think of your current favorite JAM. You know, the one that makes you cut the radio in your car all the way up, roll up the windows and transports you everytime you hear it. Think of that hypeness you feel everytime your "song" comes on. Think about how when you finally got it put on a CD, you pressed the "repeat" button too many times to count, just so you could feel that same way a little bit longer than the first 3 minutes and 52 seconds. Imagine feelings that same way about the love you share with someone. Damn that line is sick. I'm waiting for the day that I can say that to someone.

****Major cookies to you if you can name the songs these came from (don't be googlin' the shit, neitha!)****

My Comp Is A Whore

2005-02-09T15:56:00.000-07:00

I'm about to kill my comp! It's like it went behind my back! I've got this SpyWare shit implanted all on my comp and now my homepage is being held hostage and I can't read a blog for two minutes without 345 Ads popping up everywhere! I've tried lavasoft.com and AdAware...they didn't catch the bastard!! Any ideas? Help....please...*goes into the corner to cry*

Aries Answers...

2005-02-08T20:49:00.000-07:00

Brutha Free's Questions:
If you can take away one characterstic about yourself, what would it be and why?
A couple of years ago I would have said my temper, but I've worked on that and it's SO much better now. Umm...I would have to say my impatience. I have very little patience for people's faults and mistakes. And since I'm not perfect, it kinda makes me look like a hypocrite when I cut off others for making a minor mistake.

What is one thing that you just can't live without?
Since Margaret kinda asked this same question (with one stipulation), I'm going to take the easy way out and say my family.

What do you feel is the purpose of life?
Wow. You really got deep on this one, huh? In moments of despair and confusion there is a quote from Eve's Bayou that answers this perfectly:
"All I know is that there must be a divine point to it all that's just over my head. That when we die it will all come clear and we'll say 'so that was the damn point.' And sometimes I think there's no point at all and that's the point. All i know is that most people's lives are a great disappointment to them and no one leaves this earth without feeling terrible pain. And if there is no divine explanation at the end of it all - well, that's sad."
In times of enlightenment and when I feel most close to God, I say the purpose of life is to serve and praise the Lord and bring others to get to know him. On the most human level, I think the purpose is to get through being as happy as possible, cause the least amount of pain to anyone and try to improve any wrongs that you feel you can right.

Margaret's Questions:
What do you want to do once you finish your education?
Hopefully I can make a living from writing. (Ha!) I would love to write REAL literature, I'm talking Morrison, Walker, Hurston LITERATURE that will withstand the test of time. But more feasibly, I will probably end up in law school for entertainment law.

What is your hometown?
Born and raised in Cleveland, Ohio!! I spent 12 years there and then moved to St. Louis, MO. So it depends on who you ask. Those who say your hometown is where your high school is tell me to claim the Lou, but Cleveland is my heart. (How else in the world could I be a Browns fan? lol)

What are 3 things you CAN NOT live without (not people)?
My music collection
My Bible
A means of private transportation ( I am NOT a public trans girl)

Golden's Questions:
What's your favorite ring tone on your cell?
"Two Words" by Kanye and Mos Def because it sounds just like the song.

Favorite color?
I can't pick just one. Green, black, grey, brown and pink will do.

Scrambled or over easy?
Hmmm, assuming you are referring to eggs, I say neither cuz I don't eat them. But what the hell, Scramble it up!

Starfoxx's Questions:
Have you ever traveled outside of the country?
If you don't include going to Canada when I was two, nope.

Are you bilingual?
Hablo un poco espanol. Not for real though. I always find it easier to comprehend than to speak.

Boxers, Briefs or Boxer Briefs on your man?
Boxer briefs if he's really in shape, boxers if he's not.

Diggs' Questions:
What are your top 3 favorite songs of ALL TIME?
Damn, only three?? OK, OK...
"Adore" - Prince
"Someday We'll All Be Free" - Donny Hathaway
"You Send Me" - Sam Cooke
Wow..that is funny. I always think that I like female vocalists better than males, but my "top three" songs are all by men...HmMM...

Which qualities of your best friend would u like to emulate?
Kindness and trust. I am so evil at times that it's sick. I always say if I don't talk about you, I don't like you. Shouldn't it be the other way around? I also find it very hard to trust ANYONE and my best friend is that person who always gives people a chance.

Do u have a Valentine?
Yep...a few. *poppin my collar* Nothing super serious, but I have a couple of people I need to make sure feel special on that day.

Dayrell's Questions:
Guilty pleasures?
LOL...damn, must I really reveal? Ok, ok...umm.. *whispering* i enjoy dancing to paula abdul. sometimes i think of interview questions AND answer them like I'm famous... Less embarrasing ones? Shoes, clothes and perfumes.

Worst date?
OMG...This one guy named Mike. I was 16. I met him at my cousin's house at a BBQ. He ended up spending the whole damn day up under me and cornered me and got my number. Nonetheless, he was cute so I agreed to go on a date with him. He came to my house like 20 minutes early so he ended up waiting on me to come home and get showered and dressed. He picked me up in his dad's car - some kinda pickup. It was cute and would have been fine had we not stopped to pick up his boy on the way. I ended up squashed between Mike and his friend and the movie theater we chose to go to was like 20 minutes away. When we finally get there, he buys our tickets and then his boy (who was SUPPOSED to be meeting some girl up there) informs him that he doesn't have enough money for two tickets. Mike says he can't help him because he was taking me to the club later and needed all his dough. I ended up giving his boy $5 for a ticket that he didn't even use (his girl never came). Our snacks for the movie were one bag of SourPatch kids and a jumbo soda with TWO straws. Keep in mind I just met this negro and didn't like his clingy ass in the first place. During the movie, he was all over me while his boy sat there and egged his ASS on. He sat right next to me and kept hitting on me and Mike would sit there agreeing with his ass. I was too through after that. We did not make it to the club and about 3 weeks later (and 4637 unsuccessful attempts to get him to stop calling me), this negro told me he loved me. I promptly told my daddy, who cussed his ass clean out and then told my aunt who talked to his mother. Fuckin leech...ugh..

Weirdest celebrity crush?
Wow...wierdest? I have a thing for Tyrin Turner...I don't know if that's wierd though. I'm also quite partial to Alton from Real World Las Vegas. He's just so sweet and honest.

JEDI's Questions:
What's the worst thing about you and why are you afraid to change it?
I have a tendency to downplay myself. I'm honestly my own WORST critic. If someone tells me it's good, I have to point out the flaws. I wouldn't say I'm afraid to change it but I never want to appear cocky or arrogant. I cannot stand people who come off as arrogant and I notice it's usually those who aren't the best at what they try to do. So I may be afraid to change for fear of becoming that person.

What would you wake up on a Saturday morning for? Or to rephrase what would be important enough to inspire you to leave your bed?
It would have to be good! I think a planned trip to someplace beautiful would make me get my ass up. And by beautiful I don't mean Costa Rica (though it would be nice), I mean just a beautiful place (a museum, a park, the beach) anything that I find to have aesthetic value. That, and a sale at one of my favorite stores!

What would you do with your billion dollar check?
Sheeeiit...sit on my ass and be spoiled! I would make sure that my parents are taken care of, make sure my sis has a college fund and some extra money, buy some property and live lavishly with the rest!

Dylan's Questions (via email)
What is the first word that passes through your mind when asked? Mine (I'm in a selfish mood...)

Recommend me a Poet?
First and foremost, my favorite poet of all time - Nikki Giovanni. Assuming you are familiar with her, I would send you towards Tish Benson. She is a great performer and her words fare well on the page.

Will you try to get published?
Yep, I'm just not sure what first. It will probably be poetry though...although I would love to put out a book first.

Mr Young's Questions:
Describe your perfect day?
My perfect day would have to be busy. I would spend the morning in bed (preferably with someone I care about), get up about 9 and go sightseeing in the city on a gorgeous day (I'm a sucker for sunshine and a cool breeze). Midday, there would be a long drive somewhere to eat, more sightseeing, some good food and music and the night would end with some excellent conversation. I'm not hard to please... ;o)

Tell me what I mean to you?
Don't do me. I am not that bad!! Refer to number 6 from this post. But for real, you are special, you have shown me so many things in such a short time and I truly appreciate that. You don't expect more from me than I can give(I think) right now and for that I am so grateful. I cherish you as a friend.

If I asked you to give me one thing from your room, what would you give me and why? Ha! I know you want my car! (For those of you who don't know, I have one of those remote control cars that does the 360 degree flips and all those crazy tricks. And it's mine!! All mine!!) So, now that we've got that clear, I would give you my 1968 Olympic poster, because although I love it, I think you would give it a lot more thought daily than I do.

Whew...that was cool, and I probably made it WAY longer than it should have been because I can never directly answer a question, but it's my blog right?? Aiight den,see ya'll tomorrow! Thanks for all the questions, guys! You thought of some good ones to get me looking inside myself. Good lookin'...

Action Figures Sold Seperately

2005-02-07T01:51:00.000-07:00

You're in the club. It's a nice night, you're having fun. The DJ throws on a song everybody knows but you. No problem, you like the beat and you keep your ass out on the dance floor. All of a sudden, the chorus kicks on and everybody starts doing the same dance move. Arms are flying, hips are twisting, fingers are in the air. You look around and try to quickly pick up on what it is everybody is doing. You look left. You look right. The people are all engaged, eyes closed, with the "this is MY song!!" look on their face. You quit trying to learn and continue to do your own dance. People start looking at you crazy like you are fucking up a video shoot by being the only one on the dance floor not doing said movement. Defeated, you begrudgingly make your way to the bar to sit and wait for the next song.

You have been ambushed! There are certain songs that REQUIRE certain movements at the proper times. Silly you. You thought you could just pick up and go out after sitting on the couch for 8 weekends in a row? No, noooo!! There are new songs with new motions that must be mastered before stepping foot into a club.

Too many months of going out and being a self-proclaimed "party girl" at school have rendered me helpless against certain songs. They hold me hostage and demand that I do the accompanying dance/motion. So here is my (off the top of my head) list of:

Songs that I MUST do the actions to (No matter how hard I try not to):

"You Don't Know Me" - T.I.
This boy looked like he was about to knock himself out in this video. Ya'll know the deal - when he says "you don't know me":
First, point outward, Second, drag ya arm across the chest/neck area and Thirdly, point to yourself. YOU DON'T KNOW ME!!!

"Dirt off Ya Shoulder" - Jay-Z
Yeah, the motion may be annoying, but as soon as this song comes on niggas shoulders get linty as HELL. Brush it off...

"Lean Back" - Terror Squad
I try. I swear I do. I sit in the club, arms folded, screw face on, thinkin' "damn, is this song still getting airplay?!!?". All through the first verse and the first chorus, I'm stoic. There WILL BE NO dancing on this song. Then Remy Ma comes in...I feel my arms loosen.....my mouth starts forming the words..."we gangstas, and gangstas don't dance, we boogie...so never mind how we got in here wit' burnas and hoodies"...and then.....then....LEAN BACK NIGGA!!! DAMMIT...I feel my shoulder dip and the next thing you know I'm auditioning to be in Terror Squad. Mission Failed.

"Hotel" - Cassidy
"Six in the morning, six in the morning!!!" Don't resist. Just throw those hands in the air, one finger up on one hand and the other one flashing all five. Now flip em back and forth. Six in the morning, indeed.

"The One" - Cee-Lo
Ya'll musta forgot (c in a circle - Roy Jones. Who remembers that song??!!). This song was a banger...was it last summer? "Put ya finger in the air if you the one girl!" Shit, you besta believe my finger went up every time the chorus kicked in. Ya'll remember them ugly stupid hoes in the club who HAD to prove they were the one and threw up the finger with BOTH hands. Let's count....one finger....TWO fingerS...hmmm. It's like raising both of your hands in 2nd grade: two hands isn't gonna increase your odds. If you were gonna get called on, it will happen. If not, sit down, shut the fuck up and wait until there's another question (song) that applies to you.

"Knuck if You Buck" - Crime Mob
I know I've mentioned this before, but it's the perfect example to show how I MUST dance to my part in this song. When I was in ATL in October, Crime Mob performed at the club I was at that night. Ya girl was severely BENT on an entire bottle of Bacardi 151. I mean, I was OUT. "Cut off the lights close the curtains and pull up the covers" OUT. However, when homegirl said "I come in the club, shakin my dreds...", I hopped my ass up, shook my twists for all of 2.3 seconds and promptly passed de fuck out on the couch again. It was mandatory.

"Vivrant Thing" - Q-Tip
Ya'll remember this. Tilt ya head quickly to one side, then repeat. If you would like, you can say "Dum, Dum, DIDDAAAY!" (a la the "Fresh Prince of Bel-Air")

"Tell Me" - Dru Hill
Ya'll remember this wack ass video and the wack ass dance that went with it. Them negros was bouncin around looking like some black ass overdone popcorn kernels. But I do it whenever I hear this jam.

"I'm Bad" - LL Cool J
Think back to this video. That's right....red pants...Kangol....no shirt...gold chains...yes...yes...you got it! Now there are two parts that are absolutely MANDATORY in this song. "Forget Oreos eat Cool J cookies!!!"....yes...the infamous "stomp and the crush" action....you're doing it now, aren't you? Admit it...it's ok. The second one is "I'll take a muscle-bound man and put his face in the sand...I'm BAD!!!"...Make the muscles...then take one hand and put your palm parallel to the ground, the other hand goes on the side of your head and you double over like you're so damn "bad" that it makes you sick to your stomach.

"The Butt" - EU
One of the originals. I'm convinced it's impossible to hear this song and not do the dance for it. Unless, of course, you are somewhere that makes it hard, in which case I'm SURE you will do the arm motions.

I tried not to include songs with built in dances, such as "Step in the Name of Love", "1,2 Step", anything that says "Do the A-Town stomp!", "Cha-cha Slide", "Peanut Butter and Jelly" etc... I know, I know, now you're saying, "But Aries, isn't 'da butt' a dance?" Technically, but all the songs I just mentioned cross song boundaries. If I see ANYBODY doing "da butt" on a song other than that one, best believe my right hand will be cockin' back for a full-on pimp slap.

And all my STL folks, there are no STL songs on here because we all know that we do the Mono/Chickenhead or the Stab/Shank/Pancake/Clown to every damn song by an artist from the Lou. It's just that Midwest SWWWAAANG!

Oh yeah, if want to ask me any questions click here and leave them in the comments. I'll be answering those sometime this week.

Things Around Me Right Now

2005-02-03T02:03:00.000-07:00

that I like...
Songs

1)"Turn Da Lights Off" - Tweet
Tweet is my peeps. Her first CD was the truth. If you haven't checked that out, you need to hurry and do that. The singles that were released were in NO way representative of her album as a whole. Matter of fact, when you hear the whole album, those couple of singles stuck out like WTF? This song is hot, minus the long ass intro and Missy's rap. I'm just glad Tweet is back.

2) "Rich Girl" - Gwen Stefani and Eve

I used to be a No Doubt fan. Everybody always knew Gwen would go solo one day. This song is hot, straight dance floor material and Eve is in top form with the rhyme.

3) "Daily Bread" - Martin Luther
This video comes on all the time on Video Soul. Every time I saw it, I hit the "channel" button. Finally, one day I caught it at the beginning and said "hey, isn't that my girl Nona Gaye? Indeed it was and the song is nice. Serious groove and a feel good track.

Scents

4) Venezia by Adrianne Vittadini.

I love this stuff. It smells so girly. Plus it is fairly cheap for perfume.

5) Black by Kenneth Cole.

I've had this for about half a year now. I've got a big old bottle and it's not even 1/4 gone. I originally got hooked on the men's and bought a bottle for my boy. Then the women's came out and surprisingly smelled as good as the men's so I was hooked up with a bottle as well.

Randomness

6) Sour Skittles.
I forgot how good these are. Skittles have always been my FAV candy of choice but the Sour ones hurt too much to suck on. But once you get all the sour shit off these, they are TASTY..

7) Samsung V205.

My cell phone is my BABY. And although I complain and I really want a new one, recently I had an episode where my baby wasn't whole and I couldn't find the battery. That scare made me fall back in love.

Eh, I'm sitting here trying to think of three more items but who said lists had to have 10 items anyway? Like my girl Lauryn said, "I get out of all your boxes.." (And yeah, I WILL learn how to do borders and the such ONE day!) Since I OBVIOUSLY have nothing to write about, I guess I will jump on the blogger bandwagon and open my comments section up for you folks to ask me some questions...You know the deal: 3 questions you would like to see me answer. I guess that's how it works...Help me out and ask some good ones to get my motors turning again...

**** SLIGHT EDIT ON FEB 4*****

Some of you have already done Part B to this so I figured the other two parts would be easy:

A. First, recommend to me:
1. A movie:
2. A book:
3. A musical artist, song, or album:

B. I want everyone who reads this to ask me three questions, no more, no less. Ask me anything you want. (remember be NICE!)

C. Then,go to your blog, copy and paste this allowing your friends to ask you anything they want!

You Wouldn't Even Be My Friend (looking like that)

2005-02-01T20:05:00.000-07:00

Am I the only one physically sickened by the sight of Biz Markie? I seriously cannot stand to look at this man. His face is full of craters, his teeth are blocks of cheese, his lips are huge and crusty and his elbows are black as hell. That man is the definition of oogly...*shudder*

No real post for right now..I just had to get that gross image off my mind...

*** EDITED TO ADD****: Play this game. It makes me laugh hard and plus it's fun!!

Ya Pissin Me Off

2005-01-31T13:19:00.000-07:00

Random things that irritate me:

- Smokers outside of my major building and every other building on campus
If you want to smoke, fine. Don't stand your ass 3 feet from the door and pollute everyone's lungs who walks by...

- White dress shoes after Labor Day.
I cannot STAND this!! Put that shit away. You get a chance to wear white from Easter to Labor Day. After that, put that shit away! It looks incredibly tacky for you to walk outside when there is 2 feet of snow on the ground and your shoes blend it. If I was somewhere that didn't have such noticable seasons I might not care. But this is the Midwest, invest in some dark shoes.

- White people who are surprised that I know (and live with) both of my parents.
Yes, it is possible for Black people to love each other and stay together. And there is NOTHING more beautiful than Black love.

-When people who learn my major automatically assume they know my career goals.
Them: Hey, what's your major?
Me: English.
Them: Cool, so you're going to teach, right?
Me: GrRrrRr!!!

- Downloads with screams in the background.
Downloading is wrong... Kiss my ass. I have over 250 CDs, I'm an avid supporter of the music industry. But I'll be damned if I buy an entire CD just for the one "Shake Dat Ass Hoe" track that I like to hear on my way to the club. So I spend a few days looking for it online. Finally I find it. As the bar nears 100%, I get excited and start dancing to the song in my head. About 40 seconds in the track I hear Exclusiiiiive!!!! You ain't NEVER heard this before! Neeeeew Track from (insert artist name here)!!! Fuckin' up my groove...Plus when you want to stunt at a red light (don't act like I'm the only negro that turns the music up at a light on the way to the club), you just look silly when the DJ is screaming in the back.

- When folks say they don't read
WTF?? Without hitting you with the "people died so that we could read" reasoning, why the fuck don't you read? How in the hell do you obtain information? You do understand that TV does not tell the entire truth, right? And that sometimes they neglect to mention the story at all? So why the hell don't you pick up something and read it???!!

- Folks who ALWAYS second guess you
Ya'll know these people. The ones who you tell it's snowing outside and although it's mid-January and -20 degrees outside, they say "You lyin!! No, I'm not, why the hell would I lie about something so mundane. I don't know if that's a habit or what, but take that bullshit back where you got it from, it's irritating.

- Folks who pull, pat or plain ole touch my hair
Stop! Stop! Stop! Yes, I know my hair is big, soft and fluffy. It may remind you of a slice of heaven. Do not fuckin touch! Contrary to popular belief, my hair CAN get out of place and when you "pat" the fro like you've seen in videos, it doesn't shape it, it smashes my shit. Hands off!

- Clocks
It seems no matter what clock I set my watch to, it will ALWAYS be 5 minutes late by another clock. Fuck time. The shit starts when I get there.

- Mittens
I see no reason anyone past the age of 6 should be wearing mittens. Them shits are uncomfortable and just plain silly looking.

Something that doesn't bother me: Folks I love being blessed to see another birthday HAPPY BIRTHDAY MA!!!

While the Blood is Still Warm in Your Veins

2005-01-30T01:53:00.000-07:00

Today I attended the funeral of my friend Patrick's parents. Or, should I say homecoming celebration. This was the happiest funeral we've ever been to. These people were truly rejoicing over the lives led and the fact that they departed on to heaven. We went there solely to support Patrick. When we saw him, he was smiling, laughing and carrying on like the Patrick we all know. He wasn't inappropriate or overly joyful, he just wasn't sad. Not at all how you would expect someone to act who has just lost both of their parents. We chalked it up to the reality not sinking in or him trying to put up a strong front for us.

So we walked into the church, or rather we stood at the door. It was so packed. It was a line like a brand new club was opening. I mean, people were spilling out of the doors left and right. I'm guessing there were 2000 people there. The church seated 1196, and there were no seats left, an entire choir, people standing in the back and mad folks in the hallways. Finally, we get close enough to see the sanctuary and we hear the choir singing. We look and see who's leading the choir in song and it turns out to be Patrick's brother. This boy (and I say that, because he is a mere 20) was up there praising the Lord and singing like it was an average Sunday service and not a double funeral for his mother and father. When we finally get seated, he was leading the choir in a song called "Praise is What I Do." This was the only time in the entire service when a tear made it's way to my eye. This young man was up there, right behind two giant pictures of his departed parents singing these words:

Praise is who I am
I'll praise Him while I can
Through the good and through the bad
Through the loss of my mother
and my dad

That hit home. That is when I really realized that if I ever lost both of my parents, they would have to lock me away somewhere. Yet, he was up here singing to the Lord and telling everyone that he and the family were alright because they were prepared and know where their parents went. His 15 year old sister was in the choir stand with him. She didn't shed a tear the entire time. She's only 15. I couldn't believe it.The entire ceremony, I kept my eye on Patrick to see how he reacted. He sat there with the most peaceful look on his face through the entire ceremony. He stood when it was proper, smiled at the memories and shouted when people came to Christ. If it was a front, it was a damned good one. If I was him, the moment someone mentioned the plane crash that claimed their lives, I would have fallen to pieces. Yet the entire family, the entire church family (Patrick's parents were co-pastors) and friends were so at peace.

The reason I wrote about this is because like I said, it's truly the first homegoing CELEBRATION that I've attended. There is no way if I lost both of my parents I would be able to speak, much less sing. There would be no consoling me. I say believe in God, but if my faith were truly strong, I would be able to rejoice in my soul when someone departs from this life. I wouldn't feel any sadness. I wouldn't think of it as a "loss" because when you lose something, you don't know where it is, and my faith would tell me EXACTLY where their final resting place was. But the flesh being in me is SO selfish. I would be so hurt thinking of how they were snatched away from me. How I wasn't ready. How I had so much more to tell them, to do with them. How I still need them. But the family realized it's not when they were ready to let go, it's when He was ready to call them home. I admire their strength and their trust in the Lord. I admire them for not questioning when He chose to call their parents back so soon. I admire them for not breaking down when they realized that 3 of them are under the age of 21 and no longer have parents to provide for them. Their faith seems unwavering, and although there will undoubtably be times of sadness when it sinks in that Dad's not there to ask, and Mom's not there to call, I believe that they will lean on each other and on their beliefs to make it through. That's faith and love. That's something I'm working on having more abudantly in my life.

Rest in Peace Pastors Armour and Shirley Stephenson. I didn't know you personally, but I know that through your children and the many people you were spritual parents to, your legacy of Godly love lives on.

This Bitch is Sick!!

2005-01-28T11:10:00.000-07:00

I am a punk. Wait, now. Before you start thinking of all types of plans to get over on me, let me explain. I'm a straight punk when it comes to being sick. I absolutely hate to feel under the weather. The slightest bit of a sniffle and I put all extracurricular activites on hold. Going to the club at 11 pm? Not if I just sneezed at 10:30. My ass will be in the house. (For further proof, refer to the ending of Ain't That a Bitch?? to see how I avoid being sick.)

I tend to stay in for a number of reasons. First off, I never have much fun when I am sick. There are some people who are able to momentarily put aside their sickness for a good time. Not my ass, I'll be in the corner somewhere, sneezing and coughing and feeling like the world will end while my homegirl is on the floor droppin that shit like it's a 4 alarm fire. Not my idea of a good time. Secondly, I like to share my germs as infrequently as possible. I think it's plain rude to come to a place where you know healthy folks will be chillin' and invade the shit with your nasty ass sickly monsters. Keep that shit to yourself. I don't care if you cover your mouth every time you cough, we will probably eventually use the same doorknob, touch the same bar, or (if it's a good night) swing around the same pole. *wink* Thirdly, I cannot concentrate for SHIT when I'm sick. I rarely get severely sick anymore, but when I do, it's BAD. And when I get sick, I cannot concentrate on anything but trying to live. Listen to what the professor is droning on and on about? Forget it. I'm concentrating on how to make my congested lungs continue taking in air! Shaking it fast on some young man? Uh uh. I'm plotting a plan on how to supress coughs that feel like the next one will bring up a liver!

Seeing as I am considerate, I (perhaps naively) expect other people to be the same way.

But nawwwww.....

These suckas (read: white folk) don't let anything short of a recent amputation stop them from going anywhere. Example:
Today in my Political Science class, I'm trying to be all dedicated student-ish and listen to the lecture, when I hear this incessant coughing coming from the left side. It wasn't a "some water went down the wrong pipe" type cough either. This shit was nasty, you could hear the sick monster slime in every hack. So, I glance at the chick out of the corner of my eye and see that not only does she have a ROLL of gawwdamn toilet paper, she has about 15 cough drop wrappers strewn all over the desk. That tells me that she was prepared. This cough/cold wasn't some shit that decided to sneak up and attack her on the way to class. No, this was some shit she brought a roll of toilet paper (a rather inconvienient thing to carry, I might add) and an entire bag of cough drops (which she HAD to go somewhere to buy...I don't care, nobody should have more than a few leftover cough drops in their possession at a time. This bitch had a whole bag.) to defend. Premeditated infection of the masses. That shit ought to be a federal charge. If you know that you are sick at least an hour before you are scheduled to be at an event, but you proceeded to go anyway, yo' ass WILL be hit with this charge.

Stay yo' sick ass at home. For all of us.

Family Business

2005-01-27T02:29:00.000-07:00

Before I start on my tangent, let me hit you with some neccessary Background information:
Me and my little cousin used to be tight. I probably treated her more like my little sister than my real sister. She went everywhere with me and anytime she needed anything she came to me. She comes from a fucked up family (check this post, number 8 is her father) and I've always felt the need to protect her. All the females in her family are the "gimme my welfare so I can sit on my ass" type. She looked at that and knew she wanted better. She's smart as hell and never got caught up in the mess where she lived. I was so proud of her and had plans to move her in with me my junior year.

Over the summer, she started dating this guy who is 22. At first I started talking yang about how he is too old for her and blase skip. But then I remembered that I was 16 dating a 22 year old and that she is only one year younger than me. Eventually as they continued dating, I started to see that she was changing. She stopped coming to church, stopped being around the family and all her conversations centered around him. We had a couple of talks, she insisted that it was nothing that and that work was occupying her time more than him. I let it go.

A few months ago, I get word through the family grapevine that she is pregnant. I was crushed because:
a) She didn't tell me
b) She barely knows dude
c) It threw a Shaq sized monkey wrench in the plan to get her out
The first person she told was my aunt, who she calls her godmother. I'm still hurt that she didn't come to me, but I understand that she may have been hesitant because she knew I would be let down. So I let that slide. Christmas Day she calls my father, of all people and tells him she's pregnant. I guess this was her official press release and her way of saying it's ok if the whole family knows now. (Please...ya'll know the second she told my aunt EVERYBODY knew!!) Still remaining optimistic, I call and try to get in contact with her. By this time, she's moved in with dude and quit her job. After I finally reach her, she tells me she was scared to tell me and that she called my father because he is the "calmest in the family."

WTF???!!

This is where big ass red lighted alarms go off in my head. My father? Calm? Hell naw...Now, don't get me wrong, my daddy is cool peeps, but that negro is FAR from calm. All anybody who really knows me need to hear is that I got my temper from him and they will understand. My daddy doesn't play. This is the same dude who got into it with me and we both lived under the same house for a year without speaking. Calm? I think not...

So at this point the family is ticked with her. Saying shit like "if she can't tell us herself, she betta not come to us for anything"...I'm the one taking up for her, saying how hard it must be and how I'm sure she didn't mean for this to happen.

Until...

Yesterday I was on the phone with my aunt (her "godmother") who informs me that she hasn't spoken to lil cuz in a while. Somehow we get around to the fact that she is mad at her. I ask why and she says that all the work she put in to making sure my cousin graduated and had somewhere to go afterwards was negated by that shit. I agree, saying that I can see where she is coming from. Then she hits me with the REAL reason. She says "And plus, I can't believe she was stupid enough not to use protection." I say, "Come se dice, huh?" (My phrase for "Say WHAT?!?) She replies that she didn't use any birth control because she "didn't want to get fat." I asked if se used condoms and my auntie said "hell naw."

Silence.

What in the hell makes someone go so damn stupid? She didn't want to get fat. Well, shit. You're pregnant now, dummy. Yo ass is about to swell the hell up!! Great move...

As you might be able to tell, I'm not taking the news too well. I really thought she wanted better for herself, but I guess I never knew her at all.

And that hurts.

Jukin' to the Oldies....

2005-01-26T13:12:00.000-07:00

I had insomnia something terrible last night. I mean, I went to sleep at 2, woke up at 3 and couldn't get back until 6. After I woke up, I realized that I wasn't going to get to sleep again for a while so I pulled out my Sam Cooke's Greatest Hits CD and sang almost every song on there. Man, I forgot how much I used to love Sam Cooke. My mother used to play him all the time in the house. I was singing "Chain Gang" before I knew what the song was about. I remember hearing "A Change is Gonna Come" around the house everytime the anniversaries of her sister's and brother's death came around. My mother would always hum the tunes and I would sit there and listen to every harmony, every lyric and every instrument in the songs. They are ingrained in me. I picked up my guitar last night and songs I haven't heard for years came to me like I was 7 and just heard them yesterday.

So today I go to WhuDat and see this clip of a young man named David Brown. Apparently, the ONE time I miss American Idol this season, they wanna have someone who can actually BLOW. (Yeah, I brought that word out of the crates, dusted it off and used it again, so what?) Homeboy tore up my Sam Cooke song "A Change is Gonna Come"...he is my pick so far. He seemed very polite, sincere and the brotha is talented. Plus, he has locs. And LAWD knows I love a brotha with some beautiful locs!! I can't wait to watch him this season because I know he will make it far.

Since I mentioned how my mother used to play Sam all the time and when she played certain songs, here are some oldies and what they remind me of:

1) "Reasons" - Earth, Wind and Fire.
This is my parent's song. They have been married for 26 years and I remember hearing this song every December 26th. And when I got old enough and that day hit, I would run to the record player (yes, we still had a record player...that's so classic) and put it on for them and watch them dance.

2) "Forever Your Girl", "Cold Hearted" & "Straight Up" - Paula Abdul.
These are some of the first songs I really learned to sing. I used to listen to the entire Forever Your Girl album front to back over and over when I was like 5.

3) "Angel" - Anita Baker
Anita is my daddy's girl. I didn't really have a full appreciation of her voice until I turned 17, but this song holds memories for me. My dad used to put this on and dance with me.

4) "I Swear" - All 4 One
Yep, sure did. I liked this song. It was the shiznit back then! Me and my friends would sing the HELL outta this song!!! In retrospect, it's not that great, but it's still not that bad either, so don't talk about me!!

*off to watch Season 1 of Chappelle's Show*

Are Celebs Lives Really Better?

2005-01-25T14:55:00.000-07:00

*******Throwback from my other journal that I added to********

I wonder what the hell Ludacris was thinking when he made this new video? You know the "Get back MUTHAFUCCA, you don't know me like that!!". Yeah, that one...It seems he is destined to become the male Missy Elliot of videos.

Speaking of Missy, she has a TV show debuting tonight - "The Road to Stardom". I will be watching. I wish stars that I am really interested in would make a reality show. Examples:

50 cent's Quest to Become a Top Model

50 cent - Ghea, Ghea...I'm bout to be a Top Model, ya kno? I'll cheech dese suckas how to shtunt and walk dis runway for rea'..

Judge - 50 cents...? That is what you said your name is, right?

50 cent - It's Fiddy cent ain't no "s" on the end...

Judge - Well, 50 cents-uhh cent, we are truly sorry, we didn't understand a word you just said and plus you just don't have what we are looking for. The bulletproof vest is not couture...and your facial structure - the offcenter jawline and unusually large teeth don't sit well with us..NEXT!!

Or...

Usher Roughs It UP
This would be a show focusing on Usher - the ultimate metrosexual - and his 30 day challenge to do without all his grooming tools. No seaweed mask?? No mud bath?? No deep cleasing salt-water scrub to make his face baby smooth???!!?! Oh, how will poor Usher make it? Tune in to find out...

Finally....

Destiny's Child Attempt to Find The Ultimate Soldier
Send these bitches to the middle of Iraq in their midriff-baring fatigues and see how much of a "survivor" they asses really are. They would have 30 days to find the ultimate "soldier" that they describe in their new song. You know the one driving the Humvee with the "golds gleamin" and with that hard lean. He would also have to find time to roll up a fatty since DC prefers men with their "eyes low from that chiefin". If they make it alive, they get a pardon from the public from ever having to work together again and are free to try to be stars on their own. If they fail, they have to find their own way home without the help of Mama or Daddy Knowles.

OK, I lied I didn't add anything to this, but I will add some more shows later with more in-depth descriptions.

I-i-i-i-i-i-i-i Am Everyday People!!

2005-01-24T02:10:00.000-07:00

First off, I have to send my prayers to this freshman that goes to my school. Anyone reading this that has a belief in a higher power, please send a prayer up for him. He's only 18 and he just lost both of his parents in a plane crash on Friday. He's a real good kid and I'm praying that he comes out of this tragedy alright.
____________________________________________________

Straight Seinfield moment: Me, my girl and our boy Kenny went out to eat on Sunday. Just as our food arrives we see these girls that we know exiting the restaurant. So they make their way to our table and proceed to say hello. After they finish greeting us, my friend (female) reaches over to one of the girl's stomach, says "is this a baby?" and rubs her stomach like she was trying to feel a kick. Turns out the girl was so not pregnant. She looked my girl dead in her eye and said No, I'm just fat." My friend just ended up burying her head on the table and wouldn't come up until the girls had left. Ya'll know we talked about her to no end, right? Just as she was about to cut into her steak, Kenny's ass says "Gosh, I hope that steak wasn't pregnant when they decided to put it on a plate for you!! You'd better feel it's stomach first...!" IgNaNt.

Saw Coach Carter. It's cool. Typical sports movie. Ashanti played herself. Sam Jack is always good. MMmmMmM MmMMm BITCH!! (cookies to you if you get that...)

Mother Nature is a bitch. For real. Not even a regular bitch, like me. No, she is a "my man just left me/I got three kids to take care of/My mama never loved me and my daddy was a pimp" type bitch. On Saturday, I got off work at four in the morning. My girl who works with me dropped me off at my dorm. She pulls up and I start to open the car door. Before I can get it open 2 fuckin inches, the wind blows that sucka shut. We listen for a second and all we hear is a sound reminiscent of a white girl horror scream. I mean it sounded like it was about to be a straight twister out there. So I bundle up and grab the handle again. This time I swing it open like I'm the DEA. So I start my walk to the front of the dorm building with my potential late lunch (which means leftover cheesy bread and chicken from Domino's that I ordered at work) in hand. I'm barely halfway to the door when this fierce ass gust of wind comes and snatches my food straight out of my hand. Shit goes crashing to the ground. It didn't just fall. It fell and popped the fuck open, leaving my chicken and bread all on the cement. Feeling spiteful, I prepare to kick the hell out of my recently emptied box. I pull my foot ALL the way back, said a big "Fuck yo' box, nigga!!" (again, cookies if you get that...) and prepare to kick the hell outta this box. Just as my foot is about to connect, the wind gets to it first and sends it flying a good 3 feet in the air. It was like the wind said "Ha ha bitch, you thought you was gon' get the chance to vent, huh? HELL NAW!! I won't give you the pleasure..." Straight treated me like I was Charlie Brown and she was Lucy. Punk ass Mother Nature.

The Steelers lost. Ha ha! Browns to the Super Bowl in 2007!!!!

"Como se dice...baby mama drama en EBONICS?"

2005-01-21T13:47:00.000-07:00

****Found this in the unposted crates (ok, ok...it's only from January 13, but hey...)***

I'm used to being the only Black person in class. No, really, I am. That's not the problem. Before I start to ranting, let me tell you what happened:

In my creative nonfiction class, my professor walks in today and says he wants everyone to share a story from over the break. To start off with, he tells us how he just found out his cat is dying and how he is kinda torn up about how his 3 year old will comprehend the change. So everyone goes around and they tell their little stories - burning houses, drunken fights, mishaps here and there. Then it gets to this one chick. The first words out of her mouth were "I'm debating on what is too much information." One guy tells her ass to "stop right there." Joking, of course, but perhaps he had something going there. So she continues and goes on this whole tirade about how she's in this interracial relationship and blah blah blah...she goes home for Thanksgiving and her grandma blurts out "So, I hear you're in love with a darkie!" WTF??? Then she says that one of her young cousins blurts out "This is just like Save the Last Dance!" Bitch, spare me the punchlines...she knew that shit was inappropriate to share with the class with my black ass in there. That's like me sharing stories about my Uncle Killa-Cracka who holds aspirations to be like Nat Turner.

Let's analyze this shit:

1) For her little cousin to remark that her situation is just like "Save the Last Dance", not only would she have to understand what a "darkie" is, she would have had to hear the term before and accepted its usage. Mistake Number 1

2) Instead of being upset that her grandmother used a racist slur (and gawwddamn, a throwback one at that) in reference to this man she supposedly loves, this bitch laughs at her little red-necked cousin's festering ignorance. Mistake Number 2

3) The story was neither entertaining or thought-provoking. Mistake Number 3 (and perhaps the most costly of all) C'mon now!! You know Black folks like to laugh, that's why the blank channel, excuse me - BET, shows Comicview 6 nights out of the week....if you gotta say some ignant shit, at least make it funny ignant shit. Otherwise you are liable to be hit with the "WTF? face" and you don't want the "WTF? face" because it usually comes with some comment that's just plain evil.

***ADDED TODAY***

So on Tuesday in my advanced composition class we began genre assignments. To start us off, the teacher gave us 3 handouts on various genres, one on science fiction, one on the first person documentary and one on hip-hop (street/urban) fiction. See where this is going?...uh uh...In the second paragraph of the handout on street lit there is this sentence:

...it is set in the world of hustlers, pimps, thugs, chickenheads, blinged-out rappers or 'round the way baby mamas."

So of course we get in class and my dumb ass teacher says "Can anyone tell me what 'baby mama drama' means?" Hold on now bidnight, you cannot tell me that you have a freakin Ph.D and cannot infer what the term "baby mama drama" means? BITCH please. So me and the other TWO (WOOO HOO!!!) Black people sit ALL the way back in our chairs and see who will answer this. No one takes her bait. So of course she takes it upon herself to call out names. Now, keep in mind I already said that all THREE Black folks (myself included) were leaning in our seats like they were some old school Cutlasses. That should have sent the signal that we were not to be fukked wit, right? Guess body language is another barrier because she called on all three of us and got the same "WTF? face" and "Golly, I really don't know... answer from us all. So we moved the hell on...

You would think that was the end, right? Uh uh, ya'll know white folks always take it to the corners of the earth and back (after all, they were the ones that said the earth was flat, right?). The next time class meets, some broad brought in a printout from playahata.com (does this shit exist? Someone check for me, I'm too lazy..) and urbandictionary.com from which my teacher proceeds to read the "official" definitions of "baby mama drama", "chickenhead" and "bling bling". And OF FUCKIN' COURSE the man's name in both the examples of "baby mama drama" AND "bling bling" had to be....

Tyrone.

Stereotypes, what would America do without 'em?

One Of The Boys...Sometimes

2005-01-19T15:06:00.000-07:00

I've always tended to flock more towards males than females. But, in hanging with the opposite sex I have noticed some downfalls, particularly in instances where they tend to forget that I'm not always "one of the boys". So here is my list of:

Things that I'm not particulary interested in hearing about from the opposite sex (no matter how close we are):

1)Your Bedroom Adventures. How loud you made your girl scream. How you blew her back OUUUT!! I do not want to know about your sexual conquests. No, really I don't. I have probably thought about the way you perform in bed, and if I think you are good, I've thought about it more than once. Telling me about how good your girl has it is likely to A) make me rethink the boundaries of our "friendship", B) make me jealous(depending on my current situation), C) prompt me to think you have something to prove, D) make me think you are a jackass. Odds are you will be placed in either group C or D. Few make it into B and even fewer into category A. So by telling me about your bedroom tactics, you are more likely to make yourself appear like a jackass than a sex god. Keep the play-by-plays to yourself.

2)Old replays of your "glory" sport plays in high school. Half the people I know played sports in high school. 80 percent of those people are 10 times better in their memory than they ever really were. Those days are over. Unless you are currently still playing the same sport and a rehash of your high school days is somehow neccessary to understand something pertinent to today, save your highlights for your scrapbook. I could care less. It's boring, unless you have accompanying footage that really is amazing, then I might watch a few minutes worth.

3)Stories of how you used to be such a dog.(Especially if I know you still are) Why would you want to brag about that? I don't see ex-alcoholics running around talking about "WhOOoO, boy!!! I used to really put 'em away!!! I'm talking about two 24 packs a day!! I was the man!! So you shouldn't be running around talking about how you used to be addicted to pussy. It's not cute. It doesn't make you the man. So unless you are reflecting back on it with a more mature view and a realization that those days are not to be cherished - I don't want to hear it.

4) How you cheated on your girl. This usually results from you either a) feeling bad and wanting to justify why you did it or b) just plain old bragging. Either way, I am likely to side with the female, since, hey, I am one. Sorry.

5)How much your ass itches, etc.Yes, I can play Madden with the best of them. I love sneakers just as much as high heels. I don't bother with makeup everyday besides mascara and lip gloss. I probably have a better jump shot than you.In spite of all this, I am a girly girl in some aspects. Gross humor is one of them. Bathroom humor is funny on Chappelle. You, my friend are not Dave. Spare me the "realness" and excuse yourself. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT follow up your excusal with a detailed explanation of what you need to do. "My bad, I had to go stratch my ass/fart/doo doo/adjust my balls etc." That shit is just not cute.

6) How fat you think a girl's ass is. I am heterosexual. While I may engage in coversation with you over whether female A is prettier than female B, I will not judge her "fuckability" and factors that affect it. I also, just like you, have eyes. I can see if a girl have a unproportinate amount of flesh in one area. I however, unlike you, am not turned on by it. So while we both see the sistah who's a size 6 with a 36D chest, there is NO need for you to comment on how you would like to taste her milk. Unless you wanna hear me talk about how certain nigg@s walk like they have a two-by-four between their legs or how all my girls say dudes with bowlegs can fuck, keep your commments to yourself. Spare me and I'll do the same for you.

7) How whorish (insert female that I am cool with) is. I know she's a ho. You know she's a ho. Hell, her mama probably considered naming her Helen Octavia Edwards. That, however does not give you permission to speak ill of her in my face. Don't state the obvious, because I may just feel forced to bring up some of your friends who have been known to stick and move into anything with lungs and breasts. You may however, talk about hoes that I'm not cool with. heehee...

8)How much you could show me in the bedroom. Stop, stop, stop, stop. If I was interested in what you could do within the confines of a private domain, you would be aware. If I haven't mentioned it, neither should you. There is a slight possibility that you might make me curious and if I find out you've lied...ohh boy...Mary have mercy on you. However, the other 99.99945 percent of the time where you do not invoke my curiosity, all you do is appear to make up for shortcomings by flapping your jaws. Quality sells itself. How many Bentley commercials do you see? Because everybody knows what that shit's about.

I'm sure there are plenty more, but these are the ones off the top of my head. More may be on the way...

I Just May Be (a LITTLE bit) Wrong

2005-01-16T02:39:00.000-07:00

So, I almost had to whoop ass tonight. Here's how it went down:

Me and my girl head to the bar/club. It's cold as hell and when we get there, it's less than half full. We make our way to the dance floor, which is even more empty than the rest of the bar, if that's possible. We are there less than 20 minutes when some drunk ass white girl comes in and damn near falls down the ramp on her way down to the dance floor. Did she have the decency to fall silently? No, this bitch had to let the whole club know she almost busted her ass. "OHMYGOD, Laura!!! Did you see me?!! I almost fell!!! Like, I might have MAJORLY busted my ass!!!" At this point, I'm irritated and I lean over the railing that over looks the dance floor, look her dead in the eye and say "Shut the Fuck Up!" It could have been done there, but this chick decides she doesn't want to take my professional advice and starts talking shit. I couldn't really hear her over the music, so I had to make my way to the dance floor to hear her better (heehee...). At this point, she's all like "Why would you say that to me? You don't even know me!!OMG, I didn't do anything to you!!..blah blah blah blah blah blah blah..." I tell her I don't need to know her but what I do know is that I don't want to hear her drunk ass the second she walks into the club. She continues to talk and then....then, this bitch had the audacity to throw her hand up in my face. Not the white girl, limp wrist hand, oh no, this was the old-school Jamie Foxx from "The Jamie Foxx Show" hand (circa 1997), complete with the screeching brakes sound effect. (OK, so she didn't make the sound effect, but the heffa probably thought about it). That's all I need to see. I'm nice and tell her punk ass to try that cute shit one more time and I promise to break her in half. I say all of this while taking off the huge hoop earrings I had on (cuz you know a sista can't give an opponent anything extra to pull or grab). It's at this point she starts avoiding eye contact. Yeah, that's right...retreat....you can't win. But, wait, the bitch's lips are still flapping!! Anger building, I make a move to tap her on her shoulder. This is when I feel my friends descend upon me like a trained S.W.A.T. unit and drag me out of the battlefield. I swear they moved like they had recieved assigments!! Friend Number 101, you grab the right arm, Friend 102, you've got the left, Friend 103, you are assigned to guide Aries to safety once the limbs are disarmed...Ready? MOVE!! MOVE!!! MOVE!!! A few minutes later, I've calmed down because the shit wasn't that serious anyway. That was until I glanced down at this heffa and see her readjusting this three big ass tacky rings she has on and all the while holding what seems to be a very animated conversation with her friends. You know what I'm thinking: This bitch must be talking about me. I'm guessing that she thinks those $4.50 costume jewelry rings from Claire's will act as some makeshift brass knuckles and she's telling all her friends exactly what she anticipates the impressions on my face will look like. Matter of fact, I know she was talking about fighting me because she punched herself in the palm after she twisted one of the rings around. (And no, "Knuck if You Buck" wasn't on...) So I start shouting that she must be talking to me and if she wants it (Don't even front like you don't know what it is...), I'm right here. It's at this point that her friend walks over and says: "She wasn't talking about you. I'm so sorry, she's really drunk. See this post for my feelings about the infamous "she's really drunk" excuse. I swear Imma (and yes, that is a word. It's in the dictionary right before I-made-that-shit-up) snap a bitch neck in this hick town before I leave. But then again, I may have been in the wrong for telling her to shut the EFF up. But I was just offering my opinion, right? *sheepish smile*

OK, OK sue me...I was looking to start shit. But best believe if she was bold enough to bring her wrist above waist level again, I woulda finished it...

*off to listen to my Erykah Badu and meditate* lol...

~~~I realize there is an insane amount of profanity in this post. See what the Ville does to a person? *walking away muttering "nonviolent, nonviolent" in my best MLKJ voice*~~~~

Ain't that a BITCH?!!!!

2005-01-13T22:15:00.000-07:00

I am LIVID.

No, for real - L-I-V-I-D!!!

This new bitch ass teacher of mine neglected to tell me that the first assignment of the year, which is due tomorrow, requires you to buy a 48 dollar book from the book store. I asked his ass on Wednesday what I missed since I enrolled late. He told me nothing but an overview of the class. At first I wasn't too pissed, because the assignment is called "Microcase #1". Micro...hmmm...that indicates little. So I run upstairs to my old buddy from high school's room and ask to borrow his book so I can get this mini/micro lesson and scan it real quick. Riiiight...This shit is 26 pages long!!!! 26!!! OK, still no problem, I'll run right next door to our little wanna-be Starbucks and make the copies. The copier they have there only takes money from off your student ID, similar to a debit card. So I get there and the fuckin machine won't read my card!!! Now I'm getting a tad perturbed. Still calm on the exterior, I head to the front desk and ask the bitch working (oh, yes she is deserving of the "B" title, read on) if she can make the copies for me behind the desk and I just pay her the cash. She tells me "I'm sorry, we don't have a copier back here." Ok...cool..well do you know if there is a way that the copier in here can accept cash (meaning coins)?. She replies "Weeeelll, I...really don't know...I've never even looked at it before." It's at this point I start to lose my cool. There is no easier way to piss me off than to not know your fuckin job. What does her fat ass do all day? Sit there and play Soltaire? Her job is not hard...answer questions, help out here and there and walk her fat ass to the back to retrieve free toilet paper rolls for the students in the Suites. Still polite, I tell her "thanks" and continue to find somewhere else to copy this book. It's at this point this bitch opened her fat ass mouth and says "Well the library is right there..." No shit. Bitch, I know that, I'm a fuckin English major. What you think niggas can't read? The library is smack right in the fuckin middle of campus. And no, that shit is not "right there"....it's 3 fuckin degrees outside (literally), and let's not talk about the windchill. At that fuckin temperature, nothing is "right there". Hell, a mailbox at the end of a 20 foot driveway is not "right there" in 3 degree weather. Pissed the hell off, I walk my ass to the library (a good 4 minute walk), copy the 26 pages at $.15 a page (that's $3.90 for those of you who are allergic to math like me) and stomp back with my red ass nose and frozen Crypt-Keeper looking finger. Fuck the 'Ville...Ain't that a Bitch?

*** The title comes from the fact that all this shit made me turn off my E Badu (which I listen to during ALL moods and pump some Lil Wayne - "Ain't That a Bitch"***

****EDITED ON JAN 14 TO ADD: 10:13 am: Yet, another reason to hate the Ville. It is 1 degree outside. No, not degreeS...One freakin degrEE, and it feels like -11 with the windchill and these bastards haven't cancelled classes. And it's snowing. I'm going back to bed... *****

This is What I Do...

2005-01-12T13:02:00.000-07:00

What I've been indulging in lately -

Amel Larrieux's CD Bravebird.

I've loved her since Groove Theory. Her voice is the truth and this is a laid-back CD that addresses some serious topics. Do yourself a favor and get this. For real.

Recommended Tracks:
For Real - the first single. Make me tear up a little if heard at the right time.
Bravebird - a freeing song for women who've endured the horror of female circumcision.
We Can Be New - refreshing song about starting over and feeling it all over again.
Congo - reminds me of an E Badu vibe session. Taking it back to where it all began. Trance-like.
All I Got - Be thankful for what you've got, even if it's not much. Old topic, great new song.

Aaron McGruder's Birth of a Nation

My baby has done it again. I adore Aaron. The Boodocks is my favorite comic strip ever. I've actually has this since the summer, but I just "rediscovered" it and fell in love all over again. Plus it doesn't hurt that it's setting is so close to my 2nd hometown. This book is funny (of course), smart and has social relevance. It's set in East St. Louis, a desecrated town if there ever was one. Full of black folk and ignored by anyone who doesn't live there. After being disenfranchised in the 2000 election, the people of East St. Lou set off to do something about it. Classic McGruder.

"Since I Seen't You" by Anthony Hamilton
I'd like this a lot better if the title was "Since I've Seen You" but perhaps that's just the English major in me. Nonetheless, this is a feel good track I could listen to on repeat all day. I got tired of Anthony since I wore him out and then the radio followed suit and beat "Charlene" to death. This track has revived him for me.

Sex and the City Season 4
I bought myself this DVD over the break. I can't afford to get all of them at once since they are like 40 bucks a pop so I start with the seasons I like the best. This is the season I really started getting engrossed (that word just sounds stalker-ish, doesn't it?) in the show. Carrie messes up with Aidan, Big is all over the place and Samantha just acts a plum fool in this season. My third favorite season behind 3 and 6.

I would post more except I don't feel like finding links and pics and ish....but these are the main things that entertain me as of late.

Keep Your Eyes on the Prize

2005-01-08T23:45:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting here listening to this beautiful rendition of "Redemption Song" by Lauryn Hill. This girl could sing a Chinese carry-out menu and make me cry so imagine the effect of her singing lyrics like Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery/None but ourselves can free our minds/Have no fear for atomic energy/Cause none of them can stop the time/How long shall they kill our prophets/While we stand aside and look... Whoo...emotional experience, listening to Lauryn, I tell ya...

Onto the purpose of this entry...Imagine calling someone and hearing

Ring...ring.......ring...*click*...I've made some changes in my life in the New Year. If I don't call you back, you're one of them...*BEEEEP*

Oh my, right? This random guy has that as his message and I think that is so hot - it's straight to the point without bein ignant and it's real. As I mentioned before, I don't make New Year's resolutions but over the break I've had some time to really think and examine. I've come to realize that a lot of things will be done differently by me this year - I've seen some real regression on my quest to become who I want to and I need to fix the problems while I still recognize them.

This semester in school will be very interesting. I've got a lot of projects coming up that I'm excited about:

1) I get to write, direct and basically control all aspects of a play focusing on Black history. This is especially big because the university I attend is in an extremely rural town and there are only 158 domestic blacks on campus. Out of 6,000 students. 158. So for me to be able to control this play that will shape a lot of views of people who haven't been exposed to Black culture is so big. I'm actually kinda scared because if it sucks there's no one to blame but me.

2) I talked the campus radio director into a "trial-run" of my proposed show "Suite Soul". Which is basically just me getting to expose the station to some real music that's good for the soul. I've been approved to play anything I choose, including some spoken word and live performances that I love so I can't wait. He gave me three slots for the first three Sundays after we get back and said if my ratings are normal he may make me a regular. So cross your fingers for me!

3) I get to perform in and co-host my school's Martin Luther King Jr. celebration. It's an all-day celebration ending with a 2 1/2 hour program in our theater. I still have to write my piece and memorize it, but I was flowing in the car today and I think I'm straight on what I want to say. I hesitated because it's so hard to try to write a piece that embodies all that MLKJ stood for. You know how in music there are some songs that should just not be touched? For me, there are some subjects in poetry that are so heavy to approach that I actually find myself viewing it a little bit like a hunt. I look at it from all angles possible and then try to find the best one to come from. I gotta thank Syleena J from the Beat for my title though, she performed a snippet of one of her pieces on the air today and in the middle she asked "What was the struggle for?"...so I ganked that and made it a title. Good look, Ms. J.

4)Since open mic nights at my school have been slacking, I've been working with some people on some promotion that should be like the grits if it jumps off. (the grits = the shit, whatever) So I can't wait for that as well.

I'm trying to get back to where I was for like 3 months last year. Just this really calm but focused mindset. I feel like my thoughts have been racing this semester and I haven't really gotten anything done. So I'm getting back to being like Hov - "I'm focused, man!! Tell Stout to holla at me, man!!" (Check up on that Mya/Jay-Z "Best of Me" remix if you don't know that)

Oh, I forgot...I'll be writing for the newspaper here and there too, so the 'Ville betta look out!!

Well, that's all for now...I'm like slaves at a KKK meeting - ABSENT.

To My Beautiful Surprises...

2005-01-07T02:55:00.000-07:00

I have to say thanks. I took a good look into my life today and I am truly blessed. I have some of the most beautiful people in my life right now. Just a great support system. It's taken a lot of work, I've been through a lot. I've had to eliminate a lot of people from my life this past year because they caused me pain or drama or just because I couldn't see what their presence brought to my life. I've been thinking a lot these past few weeks about people and purpose. If I look in my life there are some people who have just been constant figures, but haven't had an influence one way or the other. Then there are some people who have just busted their way in my life and have had tremendous effect whether it be positive or negative. The negative people are actually easier for me to deal with because I can give them the peace sign with the itchy trigger finger (try it) and be done with it. But these people that come in my life and just show themselves to be beautiful spirits I have trouble dealing with. I'm of the mental that if it feels right too soon it's wrong. And even though recent events have proven my theory to be shit, it's still hard to completely let go because it's brought me this far. Everybody says it and I'll say it here - "I'm not perfect". But I really am trying to fix my flaws that hinder me from being able to give you back what you all have given me. I'm a work in progress and I take time out of every day to slightly alter my blueprint of who I want to become. I just hope that when that day comes, I still have these gorgeous souls around to show how much I appreciate them.

Since it's 4 in the am and "there's nothing new under the sun", I'll let someone else say it for me...

Just when I was losing my faith
And I was losing my way
You came to me
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

One day, one day, I will find the words, the actions, the melody, the harmony, the perfect way to show you how much I appreciate your presence in my life. Until then....

Thank you.

Ring, ring, ring...it's the same thing

2005-01-03T19:27:00.000-07:00

2005, eh? How does one ring in the New Year? By making old mistakes if you're like me. No, I must retract that last statement. Here's what happened. I really wanted to go to a party where there was a strict dress code, mature people and overall good times. Well, unfortunately I couldn't find such a party in STL that was under $35 for a ticket so I decided to stay home. Around 10:20 I started getting awfully lonely. (Yes, I will admit it). So I call up my boy O and see what he's doing. He was at his best friend's house, playing cards and talking shit. So I tell him that I will be by his house in a few and ask if he will leave for a bit. So he leaves the mini-party to go home. On my way to O's house, I get the genius idea in my head that I need to see my ex. Yes, THE ex. So, I jet down there and knock on the door, taking an extreme chance of wasted gas since he is a club-hopper and I didn't really expect him to be home. Well, anyway, he answers the door and I really don't know what to say. We greet, I walk inside and we actually had a civilized conversation. Then he had to screw it all up. I'm walking to the door and all of a sudden, he's reaching over my shoulder trying to hand me this silver wrapped box. I recognize it. It's the same box I refused when he tried to give it to me on Christmas when he came to my house. I look at it and keep walking. He grabs my shoulder and tries to turn me around. At this point I'm standing still, waiting for him to release me so I can get the hell outta Dodge. He pulls me closer to him and gives me a kiss on the cheek and then lets my shoulder go. At this point I'm through. I mean I am pissed. He knows that we don't have the type relationship where he can give me gifts. In fact, when we were together, I reached a point where I told him I didn't want him to give me shit. He's the type nigga that thinks that gifts means I owe him something. So I see what the hell he's trying to do with that damn box. And then to fucking kiss me like we are something just cements the fact that he will never learn. I swear, it may be my fault for going over there in the first place knowing how he is, but the conversation we had proves that not only can he be good company, but that he can be completely un-asshole-ish. But I guess he choose not to. So I leave his place and try to go rush and see O. By the time I get there, it's a little after 12. Happy New Year. He opens the door and I give him a huge hug and then he asks me what took me so long. Shit. I give him a quick kiss on the cheek and walk in without answering. Homeboy wouldn't let it go. He's all,I'm for real, I left John's to be at home for you and it takes you 2 hours to get here?"" Now, the smart aleck in me is thinking, he know damn well it wasn't no full two hours, but my smarter self is telling me this isn't the time to be Sally Smart Ass. I avoid the question and we go on to have a pretty decent night, but I know he wants to know. Eh, well. Some shit (and by "some shit" I mean the shit you know will cause an argument) is better left untold.

Anyway, HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Sommore is the SHIT!!!

2004-12-31T01:07:00.000-07:00

Put it 'round ya neck!!!!

That is all...

2004-12-30T02:32:00.000-07:00

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

2004-12-27T04:00:00.000-07:00

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

2004-12-24T01:52:00.000-07:00

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...