Writing My Wrongs

A Continuation of Life

2010-04-13T02:44:00.008-04:00

I have the quintessential…poker face. I can look you dead in your eye and give no clue as to what I am thinking about whats being said to me. I learned that early. It’s usually when I am feeling compromised…I show no sign of interest. Straight faced.
I buried my mother last week…and I was straight faced. And all those around me, said I looked just like my mother, that I was serious, had a straight face and been through much, yet still strong. And my father being who he is, was my champion. He was my hero more than he’s probably ever been…well, maybe not ever been…but it was close.

I never speak/spoke about my mother because…well, she was never around for me to form a relationship with. I remember summers spent on the reservation…but even then, I don’t have memories of her being around, just of my grandparents.

In all these years, I didn’t resent my mother or have any bad feelings towards her. Matter of fact to be truthful, I didn’t have any feelings about her at all.
The last time I saw her was 9 years ago…and before that, it was 10 years. Between then and a month ago, I didn’t know if she was alive or dead. I knew nothing about who she was, what she did, or how she was.

Back story:
A couple of years ago I contacted my tribe looking for my mother. I asked that my information be passed on to her; to no avail. So some months ago, I contact my tribal bulletin (which is a newsletter for my tribe) and made somewhat of a plea asking for any help in finding any family members. I listed a few names so that people would know who I was related to. A couple weeks went by and I had gotten no reply. I was feeling a bit dejected. I finally looked at my “ad” and realized that the wrong email had been posted. I asked them to repost my “ad” but I received no response. So, once again…I was not knowing where she was or any of my family members from those early years on the Rez. The tribe is notorious for letting things fall through the cracks.

Present story:
Out of no where I received a friend request on FB from a name I had never heard of. I didn’t automatically delete it…I thought about it for a while and just let it sit. Finally, it dawned on me…this is the half brother that I had never met!
We started up a correspondence and continued to have long drawn out emails about who we were, what had been going on and other conversations that I sort of winged. After all, what do you say to a brother that you’ve never met? What do you talk about? And even though I sent out a plea for “answers”…now that it was in front of me…I was sort of lost. Growing up without having any siblings…as an only child…well, I don’t know what sort of conversations to have with a brother. It was foreign to me because all that I could relate it to was…meeting a new friend. I kept talking about his mother as if she wasn’t my mother. Asking how his mother was, if he saw his mother often and so on. Calling her mom just didn’t flow smoothly out of my mouth. I, sort of, felt like I was invading his space by calling his mom…my mom.

He mentioned that she was in the hospital but that she would be getting out soon. Told me the name of the facility that she would be heading to once she was released. He said she was getting better. So I let the topic of “her”…go…because…I guess I knew what I needed to know and...we started talking about him and my other half brother. Apparently for the last couple of years…well more years than a couple…they’d all 3 been very close. I felt…left out. Felt…some sort of way that I didn’t like…and didn’t understand. Up until this particular conversation…I hadn’t cared too much. Or so I’d thought.

So this is where I diagnosis myself…I cared on a level of, a selfish only child level…like…what about me! Not on the level of truly feeling like I had missed out on having a mother and 2 brothers. Not in a familial way but in a … I should have been apart of that life or at the very least…aware of that life, even if I was aware of it from the sidelines as I continued to enjoy the life I’d lead up until then. All very selfish. All very childish of me on many different levels. I get that. I know that.

As we are having conversations I am making my plans to move to New Orleans . I’m looking at houses and spent a good amount of time experiencing parts of NOLA that were unknown to me. I was dating Louisiana men, finally meeting old friends for the first time and trying to settle into becoming a woman of the south…a different kind of south. While I am going through this process I am staying in contact with my brother…letting him know practically every move I make. ‘Cause all the sudden…I have a brother! It’s weird…I don’t know what being a sister is all about, don’t know the first thing about being a sister to a brother…and just like that…I am happy I have a brother…two brothers.

I get back to NYC to set my plans in motion for the southern experience and out of no where…I decide I am coming out to the Reservation to meet my new (and old) family. I call my father and we set an action plan and I buy my plane ticket to visit the Rez. I am preparing myself for conversations. Getting my nerve up to discuss some things with the mother I have not seen as a mother…ever. Not needing answers for her absence…but just talking about whatever…everything. I am mentally girding my mind and my heart for the things I am about to find out about myself, them, and her.

...She’s been in the hospital for somewhere close to 2 weeks, not sure when she will be getting out…so I am rushing a trip that I thought I had more time to plan. My brother tells me he has told her I am coming. He says she said she wanted to see me, to speak to me and that she had smiled when he told her I was coming.
I call him up with my flight itinerary.
He calls me back 30 minutes later to tell me she has passed away.

I was numb. No tears. Regret, yes. But still, no tears. Straight faced, I put it all out of my mind… I detached myself from who and what. Two days later I am flying out of LaGuardia…straight faced. I land… and I thank my father for everything…he is there to meet me at the airport. He'd driven 18 hours to meet me, for this occassion. He looks at me and he hugs me, I have no words but to tell him I love him…and then he asks me how I feel… I tell him I haven’t processed it yet. He tells me he understands and asks me no more questions. I can tell he feels the same.

The next morning, we head out in the middle of a blizzard as we make our way on a 2 ½ hour drive through the mountains; over the mountains to the Reservation. The Reservation that I said I would never go back to. 4 million acres of desolate land that the government and the Mormons gave my people, after they had taken all the good toiling land, and the water ways that were wealthy with fish…they plopped us right in the middle of mountains...desert mountains with tumbleweeds and hard dirt. Where all that could be done with the earth was to maybe grow wheat. So the Nooch (Indians) took the barren land and tried to grow what we could…and in the process…we struck oil. And to this day, the Mormons are still trying to get to that oil and disband our tribe that has gotten smaller and smaller as the years have gone by.
What was once a thriving tribe…has now only 3000 tribal members on their enrollment. We could die out in another 20 years. Death rates are significantly higher in many areas for Indians compared to the U.S. general population, including tuberculosis (750% higher), alcoholism (550% higher), diabetes (190% higher), unintentional injuries (150% higher), homicide (100% higher), and suicide (70% higher)...we could die out in another 20 years. *IHS stats* This is where I am headed…to an area that is 150% below poverty level.

I am conflicted. I want to be associated with this part of me, I crave to know my heritage…but I feel like I am not yet where I need to be to do that. I remember my grandmother dressing me up in beaded moccasins, beaded shawls and dresses made of leather hides…taking me to Pow Wow’s and teaching me to dance the two-step with all the woman during the Bear Dance or the spirituality of the Sun Dance and its Native religious significance. I have memories that are flooding back to me and although I am emotional inside…I am straight faced on the outside.

When we got to the Reservation I called my brother to let him know where we were…he came to meet us and we followed him…he lead us to the mortuary.
I was not ready.
I got out of the car and within moments…family! Everyone on the reservation is related in some sort of way…and left and right, I was being introduced and re-introduced to people whose names I forgot the minute I heard them.
I was not ready.

I am not sure how many of you have ever been to a tribal burial…or the process that leads up to it, but it’s a spiritual and emotional overload (as is any funeral is I suppose.)
My native tongue is not written…it is phonetic. When I was on the reservation, when I was a child, I learned it. I have not been a child for a very long time…I’ve forgotten. So the prayers and the songs were foreign but…it resonated. Being her child…I was supposed to come up to the coffin before other family members, my brother motioned for me to come up…I went up and stood at the foot of the coffin…because I can not look inside…not yet.
I wasn’t ready.

The pallbearers came to take her to the hearse…and out of nowhere, my father is asked to take part, this woman who he hasn’t been married to in 40 years, he’s humbled and honored that the family still saw him fit. She was being taken to my brothers’ house for the wake. There is where she'd lay in state with her open coffin, the interior made of bear blankets. She would stay until it was time to take her to the tribal burial plot the next morning. Also there, is where they’d sing the 4 burial songs and pray…and then at midnight they’d put on her moccasins and again pray for her and sing 4 more burial songs…and then as they kept the burial fire going, on the front lawn, thru out the night and the next morning (the smoke from the pit fire was to clear her path into her next world)…they’d pray for her at dawn and sing 4 more burial songs for a straight hour. Through all of prayers the spiritual leader (medicine man) would cover us with the smoke from sage and elm. During all of this, I did not go up to see my mother.
I wasn’t ready.

My mother was adopted, this I knew. I just never remembered meeting any of her biological family. Apparently I had. Through out the day and into the evening, there would be a continous stream of people coming and going. Everyone had stories to tell me about when I was little and how my mother used to dress me in frilly dresses, which of course, was silly since I lived on the Reservation which was nothing but red clay dirt. Clay dirt I used to eat by the fistfuls. I remember my grandmother used to ask me if I’d been eating that “nasty dirt again”…I’d say “no”, not knowing I had a red dirt ring around my mouth.
Everyone told me stories about my mother and all the years I’d missed. They told me stories of a strong woman, a kind woman, a fun and loving woman, a woman that knew the path she chose was not the easiest but it was the path for her, about a woman who was a good woman.
And somewhere along the way…I started to wish…that I had known this woman.

So, sometime inbetween prayers and songs…when no one else was around…I finally went to see my mother. I touched her hand. I caressed her brow and felt her hair. And I secretly tucked a letter I had written to her inside her scarf by her heart.

I had written her a note to let her know that…
…she didn’t need to worry about me and what I thought or felt, she didn’t need to take any of those thoughts with her as she made her way to the Great Spirit…that despite all the years, all our tears and all our fears…that she didn’t have to wonder if I loved her. I did. She was and is my mother. I let her know that even though we hadn’t had the chance to have that last conversation…or look into each others eyes for the last time…that I know that everything happens for a reason and that she didn’t have to be in pain over the decisions she had made. That she was entering a new world where all those things are cast aside and to start her journey without regret…without looking back on the things of this life. I wanted her to know that her ancestors and my ancestors were waiting for her. This is the way of the Indian. This is the way she must go…without regret. It would make her next journey better for her. In that way.

Indian religion believes that life after death is just a contiuation of life already experienced. There is no death, only the change of the worlds.

On Thursday, after the sun came up, during the prayers...coals from the fire were brought in to put into the coffin with her, once they had burned the elm and sage again. Her face was painted with paint made from the earth, then they covered her face with 10 veils and completely wrapped her from head to toe in the bear blankets. Then those of us who wanted to, could place items in her purse so she would remember us in her new life, they loaded her "traveling clothes" into her coffin and closed the lid.

When we arrived at the sacred grounds and I was quietly re-introduced around the great circle of family and friends one by one…I had to shake the hands of all my elders who sat around the gravesite…I was placed next to my brothers at the top of the plot and it started to snow.
In the Indian culture…if the wind is blowing or there is rain or snow is a sign from the Creator that the footprints from this world are being swept away…because one needs to create footprints in the new world with their ancestors. It is a good sign that my mother was now leaving this life. In that way.

4 songs...4 verses to every song…sang 4 times. As the drummers played the tribal burial songs…they lowered my mother into the ground...it was with finality...

And, I cried.

And so we don’t forget her and her life she had here…never forget…and in the Nooch way…
I jumped across her grave…barefoot…in the snow.

The very dust upon which you stand responds more lovingly to our footsteps than to yours, because it is rich with the blood of our ancestors and our bare feet are conscious of the sympathetic touch.

- Chief Seattle @ the signing of the Treaty of Medicine Creek 1854

I didn’t have a mother like most people…didn’t have a traditional mother…but I had one none-the-less.
And although, I will never have answers to a lot of questions…or what some would say is closure to who my mother was…I am better off just by being apart of her home going.

MLJ-C
4/23/48 – 3/27/10

“I don‘t have no regrets.
I lived my life to the fullest.
I loved my life and everyone in it.
No matter what or where life took me,
I had a blast being me, but I don’t have no regrets.
Everything happens for a reason
Just like everything has a purpose in life.
Live life to the fullest and enjoy being
With the ones you love.
Life is too short to live with hatred and regrets.”
(On the back of her burial program, a poem written by her daughter-in-law)

Oh Snap, Tongue!!!!!!

2009-12-10T20:35:00.010-05:00

Last night I hung out wth Cleveland. We went to dinner and then ended up coming back to my place and we sat and talked; while my new Frank Sinatra cd played in the background. We talked about all sorts of things. I inevitably talked to much.
That's what happens to me when I drink red bull. No lie.
It's like there is this truth serum in it...not only that but some secret chatty Cathy serum too.
Red bull is the devil's baby cousin.

So...back to Cleveland. We talked until 2:30am when I finally told him he had to leave. Literally!

He say, "I wasn't going to stay."
I say, well, I laughed as I say, "No shit, I wasn't inviting you to say. If you heard what I said...I told you you had to go home."
He chuckled...sort of.

As he was leaving, putting on his coat, he turns to give me a hug...and then he goes in for the kiss. Now I have been spending sometime with this character while he's spending money on me...out of boredom because Sexy Chocolate still lives in Connecticut until January...so I figured I could give him a peck. You know...to be nice and shit!
What does this dork do...he takes the peck and then tries to put his nasty tongue in my mouth.
WTF Cleveland!!??!!
I leaned back and told him "uh-uh"...matter of fact I think I might have said..."oooh uh-uh!"...all I needed to follow it up with was..."no you di'int!"

I say, "what are you doing?"
He say, "trying to give you a kiss!"
I say, "not like that you're not. Go home."

He was like...ooooh kkkkkk....
LOL
Maybe if I resembled a character on Family Guy like he does...we would be a perfect little dorky cartoon couple.
...budda...
I'm HOT.
...despite the age, the love handles, the greasy and grey hair, and my penchant to talk to myself and drop the eff bomb at random.

Tuesday I went to see college basketball at Madison Square. I went with another newbie. Let's say his name is Giancarlo. Giancarlo works for homelans security...has a nice little body BUT...he's Italian and not the dark and swarthy type...but the pasty white type. All was going good until he reached across the arm rest between us and took my hand in his. And then...he gave me the forehead kiss.
Now, I am a sucker for the forehead kiss... but not a sucker for the forehead kiss from someone who has thin lips and a eff'd up hairline like Tim Duncan.

Sidenote: This is crazy but here is something you need to know about me... I leave things that I shouldn't. That I have no reason to leave unless I am doing something I shouldn't be. I lost my belt. I think it's at the jacuzzi joint that SOS took me to. Man, I haven't had a night like that since high school. But back to belts...I've misplaced bras and panties too. Odd.

I am out...

B~E~Z

Though I Try

2009-12-08T05:13:00.001-05:00

I was wrestling with my purse when I answered. You know how these days, a woman carries around a suitcase trying to pass it off as a purse…well…that’s me. No lie, I need a damn flashlight to look in that bitch sometimes. I try not to put too much stuff in it because my left shoulder feels like it should belong to a gym-busting muscle man…can’t honestly say that’s too attractive on a 5’5 pocket-size chick.

I’m wrestling around looking for a pen…that has got to be in this purse which is more and more turning out to be a black hole. My focus was on getting the thought, the line, the verse, the story, down on paper before it disappeared from my mindspace. Like it usually does.

So…I wasn’t paying attention to what he was asking. I tend to listen to men selectively. I take it all in fast but only respond to key words…but reality is…everything sounds like blah blah blah to me unless I am concentrating…or care.
So without really listening to the importance of the question…
I answered.
But as I am excavating my purse…it hit me. His silence.
So I catch myself before I take pause. I can’t just stop and turn to him and try to smooth over the situation like warm honey on soft skin, so I keep digging for my pen.
I silently curse myself.
He’s such a sensitive and accommodating man.
However,
Damage is done at this point and as much as I’d like to make him feel better about the words I used [it’s always about semantics, is it not?]
I can’t.

“Do you like me?”

“On occasion.”

Ok…so here’s the deal. I could have said a lot more than that but really…if you have to ask then you probably know the answer.
It’s that 6th sense we grow up with…the one that keeps us from dismantling the wall.
He knows where I am but… He thinks or rather, wants to be the enforcer.
He’s trying to shut down my interaction with other men, and I admire his tenacity but…
I gave him the Bloopty handbook when we met…set out the rules in chapter1 section 2A and 2B titled What to Expect When You Shouldn’t Be Expecting, 2A. I am not emotionally available for long term so you best be mighty happy with short term and 2B. Don’t ask me no damn questions about feelings or intentions. Such as, do you like me, do you miss me, where do you see this relationship going.
He’s trying to make me dependant on him for my wants, my needs. Trying to buy me things…and if he’s not careful, I may take advantage of all that he has to offer…which is not who I am trying to be. I’ve turned over a new leaf so to speak…for lack of a better euphemism. I am not trying to use anyone…but he really needs to stop with all the offers…I mean damn…I can only say “no” for so long before I start saying yes, all the time and have him handing over his paycheck.
He’s inviting me to family holiday functions, which of course I am not going. And what is it with men taking random women around to meet their family members? Yes, yes…at this point…I am that random chick, well I should be. I sure haven’t proven myself worthy of meeting friends and family. Maybe for guys that’s not a big deal. Maybe.

…but yet, he still asks the question.

I had an answer for him…but it would have been a waste of breath.
A man doesn’t want to hear that he’s one of 7 on the roster. Hell…a woman doesn’t want to hear that shit either. There was no reason to go into that type of detail…especially with a man that I won’t kiss…and when I am with him, I make sure to put my hands in my pocket so he won’t reach for them as we walk, hell I do that even when we are sitting in the car. I am terrible at this dating thing right now

So my selective hearing only heard the words…I wasn’t listening to his question.

"Do you like me?"

"On occasion."

Sidenote: I know I mention this pic all the time but I swear I luvs Secretary. When she's master bating in bed and she's moaning out...cup of creamed spinach, 4 peas...it's priceless. Or when she's in the bathroom at work master bating and she is quietly saying...cock, mayonaise, excrement.

Liquor, Visitors & Master Bating

2009-11-18T00:30:00.007-05:00

I went to Louisville and had a relatively good time. Casual and relaxed.
He wanted me to go to a work function and I packed for it…but thought about it and was like…I don’t want to meet his friends or his family…coworkers included. I came to spend time with him, not everyone connected with him.
It was a lazy weekend. He took me out to the country, I mean the very middle of the country in Kentucky and 2 hours later, we are at the...

We took a tour and got to dip our own bottles in red wax. I thought it was cool even though the only time I drank Makers Mark was when I was out with my boss and I was trying to impress him when I ordered my drink neat. He was impressed and me…well my throat burned like I had poured acid down it and my stomach felt like hell in the pit of my belly.

I left that Monday and realized that this was probably going to be a return trip because I realize that I like country life. Or at least I think I do. I liked Charlotte or maybe I liked who was in Charlotte. I liked Charlotte…I think. I think I liked the thought of Charlotte. I like the thought of a country guy, a southern man.

I was back in NYC for 2 days before California came to New York. I wasn’t prepared. It was an ex that came for a “meeting” for his job. He was here Wednesday thru Monday. He stayed at my place 2 days and again…I wasn’t prepared. I don’t get how you love someone practically 20 years later. I don’t get it. I know he had grandiose visions of he and I getting back together. I’d heard him year after year telling me he still loved me…but I didn’t believe it. It’s exhausting trying to maintain a friendship with someone that wants to be your life-mate.

And finally…we come to Sexy Chocolate aka Just Chocolate.
I think I may be in some sort of infatuated state with him. I want him to want me the way I want him. Which is contradictory to the fact that I don’t think he is good for me.
But then…didn’t we all know I would say something like that.
Don’t we all know that I can’t equate myself with thinking I deserve some sort of wonderful instead of giving out my wonderfulness in bits and pieces to random ass.
Not really a question…no need to give your buck 76…lol

So tonight I had a date with someone that…might be ok to spend some time with. He is from Eygpt. His name is Mohamed, with Barack’s middle name. When I got into his car, he was playing Hall & Oats. I liked him for that. No rap, no smooth jazz, no crying R&B…

…I have some TMI info.
I don’t masturbate…nearly as much as I should.
Now, I do have “items” that encourage self pleasure…and let’s say I pulled one out this afternoon…
I turned down some quality poncha Friday night from the SOS…(I am somewhat holding out for Sexy Chocolate)…and I also had California in town…so why am I breaking out my “items” when I had the real life thing in my home? Well…
Right now I am just not in the mood for having a man inside of me. I haven’t had sex since…the last time I had sex.
So...I self pleasured today.
I had the strongest orgasm I have had in …ever…so intense…that is gave me a headache.
Now that is pitiful.
I am about to sex someone up soon…’cause masturbating to the point that it gives headaches is totally counter-productive.
The strain on my neck and head were so bad I was about to throw away my bullet. Almost. Not quite.

Bloomingdale’s has put up their Christmas windows. The tree at Rockefellar is up but not lit yet.

And a One, And a Two...And Away We Go

2009-11-04T17:19:00.004-05:00

There are some things about myself that I love…and then there are some things that make me sort of wince. But I realize that…I am who I am. I could improve on those things that make me wince but then…those are the things that set me apart from others. And if I changed those things…then I’d be damn near perfect…and tell me truthfully, who the hell wants to be around someone that’s perfect?

That would leave others resenting me and sooner than later I’d drop off the invite list. I’d rather be imperfect…and be comforted by the fact that we are all imperfect instead of thinking about being that one muthaeffa that’s walking around all extra perfect and ~~shit~~ stuff. Being mediocre on a grand scale is nothing to turn your nose up at.
Reminds me of a conversation Zed and I had about being the middle of the middle. [Stratification, October 26th, 2006]

Lately, I find myself finding reasons to use words like lest and shall or unbeknownst and thou. I think it’s my unconscious way of preserving a romantic time of speaking. I also find myself using pet names that make no sense…and I use them at the end of every text I send…

I am headed to Louisville this weekend.
I think I am spending entirely too much time back in the DC area. Matter of fact, I have gone back and visited more since I moved back to NYC then I did in the months before I moved to MD.

I met a man. We've had some dates. I named him Sexy Chocolate. He’s 6’3, with a formidable hard sexy body…and he’s a pretty dark skinned hunk of lovin’. You know, chocolate is a natural aphrodisiac. And when I met him...all I wanted to do was roll around in his chocolateness...immerse myself in him. He was everything I liked and despite the fact that he was a gemini...I wanted him bad. No, bad!

Our first date I think I kept one of my body parts touching one of his body parts the majority of the evening.

Being with him made me want to see...well...I was ready to see if I was ready. Not like make a commitment or anything…but…just to see if I might be open to all that it might come with.
Budda, S.C. has convinced me that…
I am ready to have someone around but not necessarily for the commitment thing.
Then again, I am putting too much emphasis on “commitment”…I think that is always the part that scares me. Like…I’m really going to have to stay committed even if I don’t like you anymore?!?

The other night I made dinner. He came over after helping his sister move all day so he jumped in the shower. I closed the door to the hallway that leads to the bathroom and I sat in the livingroom and giggled at the fact that the man that I wanted in my home…was really here.
I felt like a schoolgirl…fiddlin’ with my hair and straightening my shirt and trying to find the most sexy, yet cute way to sit on the couch. Jumped from couch to loveseat to see which would be better. I settled on the couch and sat to one end to see if he’d sit by me or…sit somewhere closer to the other end.
He chose to practically sit on top of me with his damp body.
I wanted to ask him if he wanted me to rub baby oil on his smooth chocolate ~~muscles~~ back, but ended up just sitting there watching him while contracting my coochie muscles in anticipation of what I would one day feel when I decided that I wanted him between my legs. I didn't want to risk molesting him on my couch...in the livingroom...while in the middle of a World Series game...
But here he was...with nothing but a towel around his waist...and my actions were...stuttered. I froze up.

So, I just sat on my hands and we sat and watched the World Series…we talked about randomness, much of what I don’t remember because I swear I only heard what I wanted to hear and most of what I thought he said…was no where near what he said.
I heard, "I like you, I like you, I like you…aaaaa llloooootttt Bloopty!"
…and then around 2am he looks at me and I could see that things were about to go another direction and I wasn’t sure if all that I had anticipated, was really what I was ready for right at this moment.
You see, I wanted him sexually when I met him. Wanted to taste him and touch him and feel the weight of his body on me as he he slowly went in and...
...but now that that could very well happen this night...I was caught off guard. I didn't think it would happen this soon...I wasn't ready. Not mentally.
You see, it was much easier to just want him; crave him...without any real follow through.
I know...I've been told time and time again that I am a...contradiction.
The only time I've ever been this way was with the last Gemini I was with. The one who I wanted to marry, who wanted to marry me...the relationship I sabatoged apurpose. The one man that I'd probably get misty-eyed if I ever saw again.

I already knew but I asked anyway…”you aren’t going home, are you?” And he nodded his head no and told me he was tired from moving. I wanted him to stay. But, now that it was time for him to actually lay his head in my bed…I was scurred.
Silly I know, but…silly I am.
We moved into the bedroom and his big body took up my entire bed…but I climbed over that big ol' chocolate mountain and we went to sleep, with me half on him and him half smothering me with his big trunk of an arm. It felt good.
With that said. It also felt awkward and I woke up wishing he had driven the 2 hours back home the night before. At least he doesn't snore.
I am only 5’5…but when I sleep, I sleep all over my entire bed. Having someone in my bed just irritates me sometimes. In this single life, I haven't gotten used to waking up to someones face. I know I will one day but...
I can see at this point in my life that if I ever got married again, I am going to need to have a guest room because the first couple of ~~years~~ months…I am not going to like sleeping next to someone every night. I need my space.

Next day…
I got a phone call from someone even sweeter than Sexy Chocolate.
Hopefully I will be able to see the new sweetness when I get back in town.

Last night I had another strange dream…Sean Combs was in it…and he wanted me…bad. Heeheehee
Then there was this chick that I haven’t spoke to in about 4 years… And a dude I had about 3 dates with who this chick gave my blog addy to after I said something “not too nice” about him. I didn’t find that out until a year later but whatever at that point. Anyway…so in this dream…chick and dude were trying to do me dirty, so to speak. Spreading lies and sabotaging everything I was involved in. So, Diddy came over and he was all over me trying to be apart of my world…and I was like, all right then Sean. So, I made him take me to obscure spots and tried to hide him so that these two shady ass mutheffin scheisters didn’t sabotage my new love interest. The last I remember is that he bashed in the head of the chick and the dude just went away and forgot all about me. Sean and I ended up moving into my grandmothers old house and he quit the “business” and he grew old and puttered around, growing tomatoes in the backyard.

~~~~
I know I have been the slacker on not keeping up with this blog. Even when I do, it’s filled with random nothingness…and void of humor, interesting content and/or anything worthwhile…
…I just don’t have a desire to expose myself anymore… [that's not true]
…next month will be 6 months that I have lived back in NYC…and although it was the best thing for me to do at the time…a part of me wishes that I didn’t have to move. Kev and I were talking and I was mentioning to him that looking back over all the men that I had dated, or had a relationship with…I’ve never had any regrets. Well that holds true for all but one. I regret ever having met the person, from the beginning of the year, from the past year and a half. I don’t feel any anger or angst towards him…I just regret the time that could have been better spent doing something else…anything…even knitting or say…picking boogers.
Anything would have been better than wasting time with him. Nothing can be done about it now…

I am off to the Dugout, across from the Yankee stadium, to watch (what I know will be) the last game of the World Series. I am sure I will be tipsy before the game ever starts. I will need to pace myself…lol

Go Yankees!

Radomness of Being Sick

2009-10-26T09:40:00.005-04:00

I was well for 6 days in a row. Then I got sick again. Once again, I am bed ridden and delirious. Well...delirious/delusional...whatever. A month of being sick; my social life has dwindled down to nada. Wack!

I like the fact that my bathroom has a window that faces the main street. I don’t know but in the morning I like hearing the noises of the morning’s hustle and bustle. It’s bright in the shower and it really makes it jump start my imagination as to how I can come up with another way to fuck up a beautiful day.
I am so evil sometimes.

It’s in my shower that I always have random thoughts. Nothing really ever being connected…just thoughts that come and go.

Random thoughts today:
1. if I were a man, would I treat a woman good
2. would I rather be in love or not in love
3. why do I look better in vibrant colors versus muted ones when I definitely have red undertones which should be contrasting with the vibrant colors
4. I recognize that I usually take the road that is probably not the safest
5. I wish the shower had better water pressure
6. do I want to be waking up to the same person for the rest of my life
7. the last time I had sex was the very...
8. why would I need to make a whole box of speghetti noodles for myself
9. why do I have a weird attraction to spaghetti noodles and thoughts of rolling around in a vat of them
10. do I really want California coming to New York

There is a band (DaveMatthewsBand) that has a song that has no words…so everytime they play it at a concert, it is always different lyrics. I like that, but I like DMB. It reminds me of my sophomore year in high school when I was hanging out with white girls like they were my kin. The music reminds me of that phase were I was listening to ska music and going to hear zydeco music while high on LSD. My sophomore year in high school was something kin to a walk on the wild side in a white mans world…just for a while. It was a time where I was rebelling against my father, I stole for no reason, I ditched classes, I dated NBA players that were ridiculously to old for me, I drank hard, I spent time in juevy, I was my very worse in the 10th grade. The very worse that I have ever been and at this point, ever was.

I look back on that year and I used to hate myself for putting my daddy through that but…I recognize that without those experiences…I wouldn’t be me. I am glad they only lasted a year and not my entire teenage years. Oddly, I slipped right back into being the square I was before that year…and I went back to being the quiet goody two-shoes.

So…I am missing a pairing knife from my knife set. For the very life of me I can’t think of where it is…could be. Again with the over active imagination, I start to think of black-outs and being some sort of avenger of evil…out stalking bad men with a pairing knife. Or, maybe I just paired someone who was good but still deserved a good knifing.

It’s better to be killed by someone you know on accident, then by someone you don’t know on purpose. – Peter Griffin

Seriously, where’s my knife?
*and I should stop watching tv if all I can remember to quote is TheFamilyGuy*

And as a parting word…
I will find my own way out.

Beautiful Work

2009-10-21T11:35:00.000-04:00

The back of my thighs are killing me. I obviously did some sort of movement that could be construed as a work out of some sort but…it could be that my old and fat ass is just out of shape. I’d realized that I have actually been lying dormant for a good month now. What with being sick and all…and then just the fact that the most activity I do is taking a shower…moving around to make sure that I am getting all the necessary areas as clean as possible. Which I have to admit…is a workout in and of itself…and that’s pretty pathetic to have to admit that I tire myself out when I take a shower.
I am out of shape, definitely.

This is another entry in my relationship dialogue.

There is a certain time of day, when the sky is a soft lavender and the world hasn’t quite awaken to the morning chirps of birds as they twitter about from branch to branch…
The sun hasn’t made itself known to a brand new day…it sits under the black veil of night that’s slowly fading…
It’s at that time, that I sometimes, feel alone.

Alone doesn’t mean lonely…it means, alone.

The lavender time of day is when I like to have sex. Not quite the morning…so after the slow grind has made me softly moan and curled my toes, and made me bite my bottom lip in ecstasy, I have time to drift off to another place and drift between awake and contented bliss before the sun peaks out over the tops of skyscrapers and hits my bedroom window. My mind is on little else than rest, satiation, and relaxing.

Being single, well…my mornings aren’t always filled with lavender love. I’m alone, awake with thoughts and promises, checklists and errands, duties and calls to be made start to invade the start to my day. I’m alone, thinking of the things that will determine whether this day will be a success. And before I know it, I am wishing for the sun to rise so I can get a jump start.

I miss those soft lavender skies…as much as I miss that golden time of day when all that was done for the day can not be taken back and where I am comforted in knowing I didn’t get through the day by myself, as I lay in the comfort of someone’s arms and feel relatively safe in knowing someone has my back, as much as, I have theirs.

With that said…

I know that life-long relationships aren’t for everyone. I have a deep down feeling that they aren’t necessarily for me. That doesn’t take away from the fact that I’d like to be in a relationship from time to time. As beautiful and fulfilling as I know that a relationship can be…it is hard work. I’m all for putting in grunt work, I’m all for rolling up the sleeves and maybe even having to get mired knee deep in some bullshit in order to get to the good stuff.

But… I feel like some labor laws have been broken by the amount of work I’ve had to put forth in the past. I need some comp time to recoup, otherwise I’m going to have to count my losses and retire.

Kiss Me & I'll Kiss You Back...with exclusions

2009-10-16T21:17:00.001-04:00

I have been here for 5 hours and I am feeling like I live here again.
I had planned a full weekend around my cousin’s event, of course.
I have cancelled all of them except Sunday’s football day with …Ken.
I’ve never liked that name. So...blah. Kenny is childish to me and Kenneth is…long…and for some reason names that end with “th” are so…highfaluting.
I ain’t into highfaluting.
Or maybe I am but not when it comes to names…lol

I am going to be in the DC area for the next 3 weekends so…me not keeping my “appointments” is no cause for worry. The more I think about it…I started wondering about my dating habits of late. What the reason was behind me dating…and whether I was making decisions based off of need, want, or my past.

Here is the run-down…
I am dating people that I know I am not going to get into long term relationships with. I think I am too committed to not being committed that I have started choosing people that aren’t really that interesting to me, out of state or like me, aren’t really committed to being committed.

I personally don’t think I am in a position to be in a committed relationship, which morally means…I shouldn’t be dating. Because as it stands…I am juggling some people’s feelings right now and at some point…I’m going to drop the ball. Why you ask? Because at the end of the day…I just don’t care anymore. I can take it or leave it and most times…I am ready to leave it before I even get started.

I guess I don’t really see things for what they are until I start telling people what’s going on with these men. As I start going down the list…I start seeing where…morally…I need to step the fuck back because someone is going to get their feelings/pride/or ego hurt…and it hasn’t been me…so far.

I recently had a conversation with someone about knowing when you shouldn’t be dating. I was saying…if you’re broke…and you are trying to date…stop it. If you can’t afford to treat a woman they way you know you have/should…then you probably shouldn’t be dating until you get your funds/mind/priorities right.
Well, of course I was applying it to men…broke ass men specifically. I am not high maintenance…sort of…but there are certain things that I expect us to do if we are dating…before we even get to the relationship part of the deal. If you can’t do those things…then you probably shouldn’t be dating me…Bloop.
Not saying you shouldn’t be dating anyone per se…but…definitely not me.

I happened to tell a guy that the other night after a "date".
I was going to pay the parking...he didn’t ask me to…I was just going to do it. Well, when I reached for my wallet it wasn’t there. I'd left my wallet in another purse. He made a comment about me purposely doing that, so that he’d have to pay for everything.
Huhn?
…so I get this right…because right now it sounds all wrong…let me see if I can get some clarification…
You mean to tell me…
YOU think I came out on a date that you asked me on…expecting to pay for something?
And YOU think that since I didn’t want to have to pay, that I left my wallet at home?
Is this what you are insinuating?
What the hell kind of woman is this man used to dating for him to think 1. I was going to pay for a date HE asked me on and 2. that I’m that gully that I’d plan to leave my wallet at home…with no cash…putting myself in jeopardy in case shit went south…just to avoid paying for something?
Ass.

*crickets*
He laughed nervously, then said…Noooo.
But then…he starts to ask me what I’m ordering, what I’m drinking, if I am having another mojito, I didn’t want dessert, did I?...
And it went on and on like that for the rest of the “date”.

So we pulled up in front of my place…and I when I got out of the car…I stood there with the door in my hand as I leaned in, looked him in the eyes…and I said, “since I know you are short on money (obviously)…let me go upstairs and bring some money down to you since you have been complaining all night about the wallet situation/the money situation/the cost of shit. And when I come back and give you my portion for my food and drinks…you can kindly not call me anymore and maybe think about dating when you can afford it.”

Slish swears someone is going to back-hand me one day.

Fortunately he didn’t. He stammered as he told me he enjoyed taking me out. That he was surprised I’d forgotten my wallet but as the night went on, he was just joking.
I told him…“I’m good”...which to everyone that knows me, means…I am definitely not good and I’m done!

I had to let him know that there is nothing more annoying then to hear a man talking about money…he doesn’t have. I don’t need to know you are on a budget. I don’t need to know you are low on funds right now. I don’t need to think that the man that I just met who is trying to “date” me…is stressing over a dinner bill from a restaurant he chose. I freaking $75 dinner bill at that.
I just took MYSELF to dinner and spent $115…for one person…
Obviously I date myself better than this muthafucka can! And he is working!

I went way off course with that story…

What I am saying is …people shouldn’t date unless they can afford to.
Which brings it back to me and my dating escapades, I can’t afford to date right now.
Emotionally.
I am really in this whole…I don’t care mode… an “oh well” mode. I’ll-probably-say-anything-without-choosing-my-words-nicely mode.
I am dating men that aren’t in my immediate area...so that I don’t have to be tied down to seeing someone on an on-going basis. I rarely answer my phone. I text randomly and inconsistently…and I never listen to my voicemail.
I think I am doing a disservice to these men who think they want to see how magically delicious I can be once they sample me lucky charms. Not only that, but I am doing myself a disservice by spreading myself so thin and not taking the time out to get over my bitterness to show them how magical I can truly be…for the right man.

Who have I become?
Well…
It’s not a good thing…it’s bad karma when a person walks away from you wishing they had never met you, I don’t want that…

I am bitter.
I love men. Love being around them, the feel of them, their voices, the way they smell, smile, laugh… I love their hardness, at the same time how sensitive they can be. I love their vulnerability and their decisiveness. I love how they take control but are not controlling. I love how they kiss, how they hold me tight while making love. I love their confidence, their camaraderie, the words they use and the unspoken words that are visible through their actions. I love men.

But right now…
I can’t afford to date until I get past this bitterness.

*I believe…I may be a little loopty right now. My auntie gave me some cold meds to sleep. Why she want me to go to sleep so bad?
Side-eyeing her sumptin fierce…sorta, I think. May just be the meds making me feel like I am side-eyeing her but probably looking at her with a lopsided goofy face. Why she want me to go to bed so bad?*

Gamer Got Gamed

2009-10-13T16:59:00.002-04:00

You ever been so sick that you forgot how it felt, to feel good?
That's where I was for the past 2 weeks.
But now...it's a brand new day and although I still have a slight case of bronchitis, the flu is gone...I am much much better.

So...last night I received a text from, the Fireman...random, nothing important type of text. Apparently there was a big fire somewhere in NY and his battalion [or whatever they are called] had spent 4 hours out at the fire. He said he was going to get drunk then go home and wash up since he smelled like he'd literally stepped out of a camp fire.
I hadn't really thought to much of it when he asked if he could stop by. Figured it would be an in and out type of thing. I live ridiculously close to him since I moved and although I haven't seen a problem with it thus far...I can see that it might end up bugging the hell out of me in the long run.

So he comes over and I am not overly gracious for the simple fact he never really said he was coming/no coming...so I wasn't prepared for my doorbell to ring.
I was in some scantly clad jamma outfit that I was definitely going to change if he decided he was coming over. Even I knew what I had on meant I might be open to some...bullshit.
I was in the middle of making some BBQ ribs...marinating them and getting them ready for today.
When be rang the doorbell ...way too many times...I finally answered and made sure to turn my back to him real quick because...well...it was chilly...and I told y'all I had some thin little jammas on...so...my nipples were hard little nubs that were almost painful...so I folded my arms over my chest and told him hello. Then tried to walk back to the bedroom...
...but he's drunk. And he wants a hug. And he slips in a quick feel or two. AND right there is when I knew that having him living this close was going to bug the fuck outta me.
I gave him the alli-oop and dodged his hands before they could take hold and went in the room and put on some sweats.

He starts telling me about the fire...and I almost let it slip that I am somewhat getting acquainted with another fireman...in New Jersey.
But held my tongue because I realize...I can't fuck up game.
I want to talk to him but right now, he can't be reasoned with because he becomes this other person when he's been drinking and where the respectful guy goes...is out the door...and this icky guy surfaces.
And once again...I go back to being turned off to the gajillionth degree.
So I sit at my table and continue to look up hotels for DC this weekend. And the first question he asks me about DC is, "are you going to see that one guy?"
At first I didn’t understand what guy because I still got a few there…and those few are who I am going to visit this weekend. Then it dawns on me that he is referring to the guy from the last two years.

Now normally nice respectful Fireman would never question me about another man...EVER. So it thru me off guard for a minute... but I told him that was never going to happen. He harrumphed and made a little comment under his breath, but loud enough for me to hear… as he took his seat. I looked at him sideways for a minute because ...really? These past 5 years that I have known Fireman...he's never had an opinion about any man...so...he's asking now because he's drunk...or has he been harboring some jealously all these years?

Then he asks me another doozy. He asks me if he can come with me to DC since he has the next 4 days off. Now had he asked me anywhere else I would have said yes…
But first off, this particular trip was because my cousin asked me. Second, I have actually set up 4 “dates” while I am going to be there…so him coming with me…ever…to DC is as good of chance as asking me to sit in a snake pit and me saying, sure!
Of course I can’t say that …I can’t fuck up game. And settle on the answer I give everyone that’s asked me… I am going to spend time with family, which is very much true…but with extra on the side.

He casually says he has to take a shower because he smells like smoke.
I ignored it.
I wasn't trying to have him all comfortable and ready to sleep over. I've only been here 13 days...I hadn't wanted any sleep-overs until California came to visit for in November.
But even with him…it won’t be this. It’ll be like a hand in glove.
I don't know...I just wanted to be selfish with my place until I said it was ok for someone to stay over. So I ignored his shower comment and kept it moving from living room to kitchen to laptop...

3 more times and I couldn't ignore him any longer. I started feeling bad because...well...as many times as I have been over his place and taking showers...and he always offered. He used to cook dinner and then bring me food in Harlem. He has turned the city upside down looking for my favorite champagne. He's paid my bills. He's bought me diamonds.
He's confessed his spaghetti no less.
So fuck it...why couldn’t he take his shower to wipe away the grime and smoke of a hard days work after protecting families and others people property at great risk to his own person...
He has an honorable job.
Overall he’s just a really good friend. But NOT that damn good if you catch my drift…
So I handed him a towel and wash cloth.
…but silently wondered why he’d take a shower if he had to put his stank clothes back on…

I'd gotten into looking at overstockdotcom and watching my dvd, that I completely lost track of time or anything around me and it wasn't until maybe 45 minutes later that it his me that it was awfully quiet and I hadn't seen or heard him.

I walked down the hallway and saw that the bathroom door was closed so I thought he was still in there, so I walked into my room to make it look like I wasn't stalking him...

And who the fuck is butt ass naked in my bed snoring like a fucking pig [do pig snore?]?????
This muthafucka right here!!!

I swear fo gawd I wanted to slap the shit out of him…I wanted to wake his drunk ass up and tell him to go home.
Oooooooo how I hated him being in my bed...in my new place...and without invitation from me!!!

I may have called him a bitch under my breath...I am pretty sure I did.
I closed the door behind me as I went back into the living room...
I just kept shaking my head in disgust and asking myself, “are you fucking kidding me??”
I wanted to make sure he was in the bed in deep sleep before I got in it...so I stayed up until 2am watching tv.

I crept in...coughed up a storm as I laid down, cursed myself for making too much noise lest I wake him.
Got in the bed and snuggled up in my covers...as I laid on the very edge. Making sure that no parts of him touched no parts of me…no toes, elbows or assholes…nothing!
I fell asleep for an hour...

…then was awaken by his loud ass snoring.
And again, I wanted to slap the shit out of him.
I can't stand anything worse then sleeping real good ...and then someone waking you up with some locomotive snores!
I felt miserable.

Today, I ignored every fucking text he sent me…lest he be drunk again…
He gamed me!
Had he been sober he would’ve probably had some octopus hands…but had he been sober…his ass wouldn’t have been snoring all up in my bed…I’dda sent his ass home!

Aye Aye, Capitán!

2009-10-11T18:52:00.000-04:00

I call myself going on a date…well...it isn’t a date to me but I know it is for him. Either way, here I am dressed all basic…jeans, white sneakers, white t and a little jacket…I look like I have on my teenage daughters clothes…if I had a teenage daughter.

I haven’t been out of the house since forever and I have been sick…since forever…well 11 days is forever to me and I have cabin fever…so I initiated a conversation that I am sure would have never taken place had I not…reached out.
I am bored and tired of this condo I tell ya!!

Well, I had just gotten off the phone with fireman and he’d told me that if I take a couple of shots of Cpt Morgans…I won’t cough.
As some of you know from talking to me…I cough up a lung every time I talk…mild case of bronchitis since flu is slowly…s.l.o.w.l.y. leaving my body… (and maybe a slight case of pink eye...odd.) Since I have been either in a medicated high or a drunk ass high from hot toddies…I happen to have Cpt. Morgans Black Cask 100 Proof sitting all snuggly on my counter looking at me with that pirates smirk and swarthy sex appeal exuding from under his cap…

So my shot glasses are actually 2 shots deep. Me and my heavy hand…double downed the Captain…twice. I slurped down all the Captains juices and wondered how long before I could get me some more of that good stuff that the Captain was so ready to put to my lips…make me open up wide and take straight to the back of the throat.

So…he says, I want to go to the movie…I want you to come with…and I want you to let me touch you in the dark while we laugh…

Since the last time I had a man touch me…I’ve not let a man touch me…since.

So, I’m game...for a movie…and at the moment he called and asked…I was game for touching. Problem is…I am here waiting on him to pick me up…and I am no longer game for…touching. Muchless, umm, even holding my hand. Muchless-less, even making conversation.

Maybe I should flask it to the movies…
LOL
What say you Capitán??

Dream A Little Dream for Me...

2009-10-06T23:29:00.007-04:00

As some of you may or may not know…I have been sick…bedridden sick and quite delirious. Ok, I know I am making it sound a billion times worse than it really was but…believe me that I was sick …and bed ridden…
With that said…I had 3 dreams in the midst of my delirium…3 very odd and disturbing dreams...well maybe not disturbing but definitely made me sit back and think of what all of them could mean.

Setup to 1st dream:
I don’t know how many of you have seen Secretary with James Spader and Maggie Gyllenhal but this dream bordered on sexual and professional.
I was working for my last boss, a multi-million dollar CEO, who had on more than one occasion made good use of his hands while touching my bodily parts…as far as he was concerned I was part of the package when he took his Chairman of the Board position.
At first I was sort of curious because here, this white silver haired gentleman in his mid 60’s was trying to get my attention every time I turned around. At first I was just wondering if I was over-reacting as most cute women are want to do when someone is nice to them…we tend to think everyone is trying to make some sort of move towards us. As the years went by I took his mild flirting as office politics concerning getting things done in a speedy fashion…it’s done the world over…whether by bringing in coffee and donuts, to offering to pick up something for lunch while one is out of the office.
As days meld into months and months into more years…He’d touch me when it was not needed and giving me hugs when they weren’t warranted…
Clearly, he had planted naughty thoughts into my head…

DREAM 1
Scene1: Me at a size 6, black pencil skirt with fishnets, 4 inch patent leather heels and a crisp white short sleeve shirt that bow tied at the neck.
I was straddling him at his desk and giving him a head massage. I remember my right breast occasionally brushing against his lower lip depending on how far back on his head I massaged. His right and left hands were also on my left and right thigh…he was enjoying the feel of the fishnets as they stretched taught against my thighs and ass.

Scene2: Same outfit but this time I was bending over the antique round table he’d brought back from Asia…he was behind me about to tear my fishnets as he was trying to make a big enough hole for him to slip his cock thru to get to my bare and shaved sugar walls…just as someone walked into his office…we both looked back with surprised looks…

Scene3: He had a meeting at the table I was just bending over and I’d come in to bring tea to the men and he dropped a pen on the floor and I bent down to pick up the pen and exposed my garter and fire engine red lace panties and he excused him self from the meeting and took me into the CFO’s office and made me spank him for dropping his pen, with a small leather paddle that left his ass blood red. He bent down at my feet and sucked my toes before I let him go back into his meeting.

Setup to 2nd dream
Dude introduced me to one of his best friends.
This friend I was only around once. He was nice, in a young way. Dude always spoke more positively about this friend then any other one. When I met him he was cordial but I never got a good feeling from him either. Not bad, just not good. I wasn’t attracted to him in the least and at the time, I couldn’t think of any of my friends that would be attracted to him right off the bat… he was ordinary to me…or so I thought…

DREAM 2
Scene:
I knew the caller as soon as I saw the caller ID and wondered what Jamal could possibly be calling me for. I almost didn’t pick it up thinking it might be news about Dude. Good or bad, I didn’t care to hear it.
But curiosity got me and…
Hey you, what’s up?
Hey Bloop, this is Jahmal
I know silly…what’s going on?
Just checking in on you to make sure all is good with you.
Now why would you be doing that Jahmal?
Aw, c’mon Bloop…just wondering.
I am good. Happy.
That’s good to hear. I am happy for you. Say look, there was another reason for me calling… I am going to be in New York City for a couple of days for work…was wondering if you could tell me a few places to hang out. Dude always used to talk about all the places you’d taken him to…so I wanted to see what you had for me. Any suggestions.
Sure Jahmal.

Scene2:
I’d worn jeans, a colorful shirt and some heels. In between responding to text, silly shit to random guys, I kept looking to the elevator. Nervous, a little, but more than ready for drama if it was going to unfold.
I glanced up and there he was stepping off the elevator…walking towards me with a boyish grin on his face. He looked like he was caught between good and bad…hesitant.

Scene3:
I took him to China 1. Knew I shouldn’t have because it was a very romantic and intimate lounge, if that is at all possible. When I am in the right atmosphere I can be more than what can be denied. I wasn’t looking for that. Flirted with all the random white dudes. Danced with all the random Asian chicks and wanted him to do him…because he looked scared. He made me uneasy as if any minute I was going to turn around and see Dude standing inches from me with crazy stuck in his eyes.

Scene4:
His head was resting on my lap on the taxi ride up to the hotel, he’d drank one more than he should have, my influence of course. This big ol man, so soft and cuddly in the back of this cramped taxi. He kept murmuring his wifes name. I smiled. Glad that nothing was as I thought it might be. He really just called to hang out.

Scene5:
He asked me why I hadn’t invited him to my place, despite hanging out with him 3 days in a row.
Told him I lived further out, I am no longer in the city. And why would I?
He said he’d still like to consider us friends despite who introduced us.
I told him I never thought we were friends, I never thought he was someone I could call on…and I still didn’t. Let him know he had surprised me by hanging out, the way Dude talked about him…I’d never thought that he would be the type of friend that would keep in contact with one of Dude's ex’s.
He mentioned how he had his own thoughts about that whole situation and how it was handled. He felt bad for both of us. He said he guessed that’s why he wanted to see if I was happy.

Scene6:
He leaned in…and I didn’t move. He leaned further and I felt his bottom lip touch my top lip…felt his bottom lip fit itself into the space between my top and bottom lip. I felt my back being pressed into the kitchen counter, it hurt. But I didn’t move. Well, I did move…my tongue. I brought it out and tasted his lips as he sucked on my lips and then I felt his tongue tasting my tongue and I thought that I was going to have an orgasmn right there, just like that. He tasted like the Jack n’ Coke I’d fixed him early. I may have gotten drunk off his lips to…it could have been the leftover Jack n’ Coke…either way…I didn’t move.
By the time he lifted me onto the counter and started slowly lifting my skirt, I realized that I was unbuckling his belt and headed straight for the zipper on his pants when it dawned on both of us at the very same time...what we were doing.
We stopped.
Looked at eachother…both swore, him a “fuck”, me an “oh shit”…we looked away from eathother but yet…we didn’t move away.
I slightly pushed away…hopped down from the counter and left him there. Did what I always do…put on my jazz, lit some candles…went back into the kitchen and lead him by his hand to the bedroom…sat him on the bed then closed my bedroom door.

Setup for 3rd dream
My grandmother and uncle have past away. They have been gone for some years now. My uncle first, about 13 years and then my grandmother about 8 years.

DREAM 3
Scene: I am sitting in a classroom. Clearly it’s an elementary classroom. I am sitting at a table in one of those miniature tables that they have for kids. My knees are scrapping the bottom of the table as I try to pull my legs underneath. I settle on pulling my legs under with my legs crossed at the ankles.
I am watching some sort of play…but the only people are my grandmother and my uncle…there seem to be a lot of people watching the play but when I turn my head to look behind me…I realize I am the only one in the room.
I can’t here any noise. Not even the words to the play.
Its like it’s all being done telepathically.
After the play is complete…my grandmother and uncle come to sit at the table with me. Although no words are spoken aloud, they are very adamant about what they are trying to tell me.
I can tell that they are getting frustrated with me. Because even though I haven’t said anything, I am in disagreement with whatever they want.
My uncle gets up from the table and goes to the door where there is a bright white light shining in the hallway…he goes to leave then turns back around and waves at me to follow him.
I don’t. I continue to “talk” with my grandmother.
She starts begging me and it looks like I am hurting her.
She gets up, to go to the door. She starts to walk through the door to the bright white light.
She turns to me like my uncle had…
She waves me toward her urging me to come with her.
She is yelling at me [silently] to follow her.
I shake my head no and tell her that I can’t.
She tells me I can, just to get up from the table and come.
I get up, push my miniature chair under the little kids table and take two steps then stop.
I look at her and cry, she cries too.
I tell her I can’t come.
She puts her arm down, then she bows her head and turns and walks into the bright light.

Random Date Ramblings

2009-09-14T10:28:00.001-04:00

I don't know who makes up the rules/etiquette of dating but the way I see it is...if I/or you are not clicking it's ok to let the person know such and both parties can move on. I’ll come back to this at the bottom of this post…

So I told you about me doing this whole dating online thing...figured I'd meet men in my area and just go out for dates...meet men, hang out, have fun and get out of that funk I was in.
Well...I have met just 2 men online despite my month and change of being on BPM...
And both...well, I will call one a dud and the other one...a bigger dud. But obviously my love for asshole-ish ways has now stretched to liking duds...lol

Let me just say this real quick...if I hear one more man tell me that I am articulate or that I am cool as shit OR that I am not like other women...I swear fa golly-gee-whiz...I'mma stop dating all together. 'Cause seriously...what type of ignorant, uptight, cookie-cutter chicks are these guys dating if I am considered the cream of the crop [so to speak...in my own words...lol]
That’s not saying that I am not some kind of wonderful...'cause I am...but I am not even putting forth effort. Which means that, random chicks that are coming with their A-game are really playing against me with my half-assed efforts...
Which is a bigger tragedy for the woman that has a lot to offer. Because of random gatinha, the bar has been lowered as far as what men are willing to offer concerning time and effort. So many chicks are out there paying for dates, opening doors for themselves, being quiet when they should be speaking up, willing to share their “man” with other women, excepting any behavior just to be able to say she “ oo wee, look what I got” by having a man on her weekly calendar to validate who she is… and other miscellaneous bullshit that’s unacceptable.

My thing is…a man courts a woman he is interested in. And if a man isn’t sure what that means then he needs to definitely take time out to google that shit. If I am willing to treat you like I want you in my space…then be the man that puts forth effort that shows me that you want me in your space.
I understand that there are a ton of women that are doing just about anything to get your interest short of fucking you in the dairy aisle at the grocery store but really… you [men] feel validated by getting as much ass possible to ride the dick?…or is it even about sex…are men that lonely that they will take whatever is thrown at them like dogs waiting for scraps under a table...
Y’all do know that y’all are sometimes fucking with scraps, right?

Ok...I just convinced myself once again that I am the shit...even when I am working part-time...with a broken leg, one cock-eye and a sprained thumb...I am a formable competitor. My daddy told me I'd be good at something...he was just never clear on what it would be... Clearly though...I'm good at receba homens gostar de mim. I should take advantage of that...but for now...I'm a lazy dater and to be even more truthful...men aren’t all that much of a priority right now and I am not really feeling like I need to chase a muthafucka down, especially when I ain’t meaning to keep him for mine.
Yes, I like the chase of a game but not at the price where I am back flipping all ass backwards to be with someone that I am not going to walk once he’s been got. Just sayin’…if I can’t keep in half way real here then where could I…lol

Another sidenote: If a man isn’t in a position to date…then he shouldn’t! No, really! If you don’t have the time, the money, or are emotionally unavailable to be loved or love…then he should really take the time to figure his shit out without dragging a soft, emotional and open woman to take that journey with him…and making her take on his baggage…hell, not only taking it on but making her carry that shit…
He is less than desirable as a companion and even more so, as a man in general. Nothing is as unattractive as a man who is off center, needy and…bitchy. I can’t be your rib if you don’t even realize what it means to be a man in a male/female relationship.

I know that the last sidenote was contradictory to what I was saying about my view of dating right now…but…but…I can love, accept love and I know what fucking role I play in the relationship…I know how to play my position. I am open to a connection but believe me when I say, it’s not going to break me if I am not in one right at this moment…Really! I am fine cuddled up with my stuffed panda as I lie on his belly while I drink a beer and watch TrueBlood.
[Umm, wow…that sounded real freaky…isn’t there some sort of sexual fetish out there that involves stuffed animals? Hehe]

So one of my duds was a disappointment because I was digging on him but…he works for some rapper [which is a minus] and his scheduling is all off. He sets plans for a date and then calls me from the airport telling me he is headed out to some show or some such bullshit. The one thing that I liked was that he was calling me from the hotel room phone to prove he wasn’t sitting his chocolaty-dimpled-ass up in Brooklyn while he was telling me he was in Seattle. Another thing is that every single morning and evening without fail he’d either text me or call me to say good morning and good night. Its little things like that that make me sit up and take notice. I get hooked on routine attention as I am sure most people do.
Speaking of that, I should be a little more cognizant of being more routine with my attention showing skills…maybe…yeah, maybe.
So…his schedule and my need for attention…plus needing someone to accompany me to all the functions I am invited to…well, I need someone in my life as a partner rather than an after-thought. But damn if he didn’t have potential…but with me moving out of the city…and him living in BK…I’d be farther away and it was already bullshit for us to match up schedules as it was…
So, I sent him a text…stank I know but, stank I am…
I could have called him but…really?! We aren’t in a relationship…it was brand new and limited…so I don’t feel bad about texting him. I had been ignoring his calls…just because…I was basically done and not really having the desire to even fake a conversation. He sent me a text asking me if I didn’t want him to contact me anymore…so I merely responded to his text. Cop out? Probably to a degree but…blah!

Besides random ass… I am just doing what I do...and that is neither good nor bad…
My controlled recklessness can be a little debilitating in that I haven’t written a damn thing since I have moved back to NYC…and if I don’t write, I don’t get...
Spending money like I was that girl, the one I was back then…but I’m not…I am an old hag in the now... well, on the younger side of the hag age…but haggish all the same.

My mind wonders and I can’t focus as you can probably tell from this post since I have wandered all over this page, I am hoping that come the 1st…it will all start to smooth out because I need to get my groove back… I am pleasantly surprised to have taken advantage of NYC’s summer as soon as I got back. Jumping feet first into the grime of New York…

Like JZ said…
…since I made it here, I can make it anywhere.

In New York,
Concrete jungle where dreams are made of,
Theres nothing you can’t do,
Now you’re in New York,
these streets will make you feel brand new,
the lights will inspire you,
lets here it for New York, New York, New York

Jay-Z - New Music - More Music Videos

The best part of this song is Alicia but y’all know U have a girl crush on her.

B~E~Z y’all and don’t hurt nobody.

And Then There Were 4

2009-09-02T21:15:00.005-04:00

I didn't know what Monday was going to hold for me...figured it was going to be like any other day in the life of Bloopty living in NYC. I knew I had set up two [2] dates per day for the whole week. So the majority of what I had "planned" was about working to be as beautiful as possible for my...menz. Again, nothing exciting or major.

So I rolled over in my bed and picked my bedfellow [read: cellphone] up off the pillow next to me... something, I couldn’t grasp, in the middle of the night was still sitting on the peripheral of my mind-space...
…so I clicked onto Contacts...and started my way down my friends to send out text to those that I hadn't spoken to in a while...to reconnect...because even though I hadn't spoke to them...I still cherished them. I started with "A" and started my way on down the alphabet...and for whatever reason I scrolled on down to "W" and started to send Will a text.
...and for whatever reason, I stopped...I got emotional.
I shook it off as being...off balance since moving to NYC and thinking about this week of 10-dates-in-5-days marathon I was about to undertake...

It was probably 5 minutes later that I got a response from Will and to be honest...I wanted to slap Will for delivering the information thru text. Even though seconds later I would send AJ and Slish the same info...and while talking to Slish, my call would be interrupted by Zed...and it was at that moment I realized...

We are friends first and bloggers second. We care about eachother and we read about eachother and as Nikki Harris and I have done for 5 years...we have peeked into eachothers lives and became voyeurs...and because I know I tell y'all things I probably wouldn't tell my in-person friends...I can imagine that you all do a little bit of that yourselves...
We sometimes know eachother better than friends or relatives.
We are friends...and in a slightly twisted way...we are family.

So...I cried. And I cried and I cried in a way that I have never cried for anyone...but here I was crying for Anika...I called her Nik. I call her Nik.
I’ve always said that I write to keep myself sane…and I guess that holds true more than any other time…on Monday.

I don't know about anyone else...
My grandmother died, my uncle died...but in all honesty, neither was a surprise. Loved them dearly. And even now I still sometimes forget my grandmother is gone because I dream so much about her...but...that's not the case with Nik...
I’ve never lost a friend. Someone that I knew…someone that I had laughed with, or talked about life experiences and plans with, or admired…

You see...Nikki was a rare, talented and beautiful woman who I envied for her talent, who I cherished as my inspiration and who was my road dog when it came to the raunchy that we both wrote about [hers with more flourish and imagination while I struggled for words other than "fuck"]. Nikki’s writing always touched me. Touched me in a way that didn’t speak about the story...but the way she could put words together…they way she was creative. She was funny, she was raw and not like me raw where I am self deprecating yet nonchalant...but hers was a real stank that flowed from her page when she was disgusted and poetic prose of want, admiration and feelings when she was inspired by the male species. She was awesome in her delivery...and her wit was quick and I sat back and silently hated on her...LOL

Nikki and I had a moment back in '06 regarding the chick/idiot/bitch that faked her death...we exchanged some words and for a minute...I wiped my hands of her and her wonderful writing. It wasn't ugly...we just didn't agree about something...
I let it go...walked away from her blog thinking that blah...there were a million and one blogs on the internet I would find another to replace her Indigo Thoughts…
Yes, there are a lot of blogs.
But none like Nik's and because I loved her personality, her words, her ability to make you feel what she felt when she wrote, her ability to make you laugh at her point of view, and admittedly, she made me learn because some of her shit was so deep...I had to re-read...because of all that, I moseyed on back and she folded me into her writers arms and all was right with the world again.

Outside of the blogworld we spoke, we IM'd, we emailed. I remember after an incident I had in Maryland [date-rape drug incident] Nik sent me an email that touched me...and made me cry.

Nik inspired me to be a better writer...and though I am nowhere near the level she was...I was always immensely proud when she told me I had written something well...or that she appreciated my candid-ness.

Just like my love for Aunt Jackie [Nisa]...I have been in love with Nikki for a long time. There are only 5 bloggers that I read faithfully AJ, Nikki, Zed, Cheap Seats and Chele...and now only 4.
I've lost a friend, a mentor, an inspiration and a sister.
Words could never and will never express/convey or show the enormity of the loss that the world has experienced…although…
As many of you have witnessed on FB and her blog…she has touched so many people…and as long as her work is out there…she will always be immortalized through her talent that she shared with us all.

Although I am so very sad in knowing I will not read anymore stories of her life’s experiences, or the clever word play in responses or daily conversation on FB/Twitter…
I thank God for having experienced her.

Anika Harris Vines
August 1, 1971 – August 30, 2009
Gone too soon.

Comments & Responses
nikki said...
damn, damn, and DAMN. yeah, i've got limits too. i want experience but the kind of experience that comes with being choosy and getting QUALITY vs. taking whatever and getting QUANTITY. i mean, how am i supposed to feel if brotha don't have standards? what that say about me?
Wed Sep 12, 10:37:00 PM EDT

nikki said...
this post sounds extremely wistful and i'm right there witcha. i especially like the part with stolen kisses. those are the best.
Mon Sep 24, 11:00:00 PM EDT
@ Nik: Stolen kisses and touches are always nice.
Well, not always...this morning on the crowded A train...I think I touched this guys weewee....it was mid-hard (or mid-soft depending on how you look at it)...woulda been a good look had I not had to touch his big o' belly first.

nikki said...
lmao@"i can only take you in small doses"

this cat doesn't sound all that appealing. good thing you kicking him to the curb, right? RIGHT?!?
Wed Oct 10, 02:53:00 PM EDT

nikki said...
i love the shoes!
I LOVE THE SHOES!

"largagus penisucus...latin for dick"
bwaaahaha! that's what i'm talking about. why is everyone so horny right about now? i'm right there with you, although i'm getting laid, probably tonight. at least, i think so. i gotta check.

i'll tell him to throw in a good stroke on your behalf.

Wed Oct 10, 02:45:00 PM EDT
Blah Blah Blah said...
@ Nik: If he's gonna stroke one for me... make usre he says Bloopty! loud as hell...and also tell him to make that cum stoke MY stroke...lol

*secretly hating on Nik 'cause she thinks she so fly 'cause she's getting dick and I ain't*

nikki said...
i really love the relationship you have with your dad. it's so beautiful...
Mon Jun 18, 10:16:00 PM EDT

nikki said...
the only person who gets most of my innermost thoughts is my brother, but that's cuz we grew up together. i trust that cat like i trust nobody else on this planet.  i've held secrets and divulged secrets. i don't think there's a person out there who hasn't told a secret for one reason or another. sometimes it's necessary. sometimes it's done out of pettiness. i'm not above being petty, but i would hope it ain't a recent activity.  meanwhile, trust is one of those things that i'd like to give to a person because i wanna believe i have faith in the goodness of folk, but i've come to realize not many folk i know have my absolute trust. not sure if i've suffered as result of being so mistrusting, but i figure it's just safer this way.
Mon Jul 09, 07:26:00 PM EDT

nikki said...
going backward means you ain't going forward (that was really deep of me if i do say so myself)  and don cheadle is BEYOND fine. there is just something about that cat...  i ain't gonna fight you over him though.
Tue Jul 10, 02:35:00 PM EDT

See you on the other side friend.

2009-08-31T11:43:00.002-04:00

Nikki (Indigo Trail of My Thoughts):
You know that I have always been a fan. I will always be a fan. When I was the baby writer, starting out on my writing journey...You were the one constant throughout. You've inspired me. I'm more than sad... I know you now rest well, my friend.

I need to leave the country tonight somehow.

2009-08-15T11:14:00.002-04:00

I need to leave the country tonight somehow, some way. I may be, quite possibly looking for something that I thought I didn’t even believe in anymore…and it’s quite possible that fanciful dreams of love and chemistry and attraction are manifesting themselves in people I can’t have for the same reasons that I need them… which is difficult to explain and even more difficult to live with…because I am fighting myself in not trying to understand it because…well, just because…it’s going to require more that I have to give, more than I am willing to give myself right n

Weekend Love

2009-08-14T23:15:00.016-04:00

For whatever reason I didn’t think he was looking at me, even though it felt like he was staring into my very soul. I just figured that he was lost in thought.
It’s what I do.
Then when I walked past him, I saw him turn and as if in slow motion, he took a step in my direction…
…so I turned my head and looked over my shoulder and there was that stare...looking into my very soul…again.
He followed me with one step, then stopped in my personal space and had it been anywhere else other than a Wal-Mart store on a muggy day, in the middle of a small town, a country town, I probably would have high-tailed it out of there…

But he was beautiful to look at, more than beautiful actually…he was painful too look at because something in me…was drawn to something in him…
And I knew I’d not see him again… and I couldn’t help but be blessed to have him…looking at me…approaching me…the way he was… I sort of felt emotional in an odd and funny way…

“I…I…my name is Justin”, he said. With a slight stutter to the beginning of his sentence…as if he had caught himself off guard by his own boldness, he just stood there, clearly wondering if he should say more or if he had said too much. He gave a look as if to ask himself, what the hell am I doing?

I stood there for a minute, half turned to walk away but then instinctively I turned towards him and gave him all of me, as I said, “my name is Bloopty.”

Oddly, I didn’t know where to go from there because I was literally…just that slow with my responses. I wanted to tell him I loved him and ask if I could have his baby, cook his meals and wash his draw’rs and what was his mamas name, and where were his people from and if we could go back there and start our own legacy of love and family…but…he, Justin, had literally just walked up to me so…
…none of that could be said and none of it would have made sense and I realized once again and silently, that I am rambling in my head about some man 800 miles away from where I live, in the doorway of a Wal-Mart as my 2 aunts and 1 cousin watched me…

“You’re very beautiful I am here visiting family I live in Durham, North Carolina You are truly adorable.”
All of this said in one long run-on sentence as if he was a bad actor stumbling over cheap lines…and all I could do was smile.

Quickly I’d calculated the possibilities of this conversation going any further and knew that they were next to none but I was basking in his beautiful smooth chocolate face and conscious enough to know that if I leaned in just a bit more …he’d lean in too… and we’d be kissing…our attraction was that strong and his eyes saw it and with them he almost dared me…

But as soon as I calculated that, within a millisecond… I leaned the opposite direction and took a step back and damn near felt faint in that one small movement…
I blinked my eyes and may have licked my lips…trying to come back from some place that I had been in with this stranger, who’d cast his spell so quickly…and thoroughly. It was clear that he felt exposed and a little open …but I couldn’t say anything to that…because I’d just met…this man …named Justin…and…because I unexplainably felt the same way. I may have tripped over my own feet while turning away as I said…

“Thank you. Have a good day.”

…and just like that, I missed him terribly.

And out of nowhere…conversation around me became audible again and all at once, I heard my aunties talking to me like I’d been involved in the conversation all along, I responded and fell in step as we made our way across the parking lot to the car.

I wanted to turn around but I fought myself on that because for some insane and unexplained reason I thought I might actually run after him, up to him and jump into his arms and beg him to please take me to wherever he was going as long as I was with him…
…but I didn’t, I didn’t turn around to see if he was looking at me, I didn’t acknowledge the teasing from my family, I didn’t try and think of what it all meant, I didn’t do anything other than…
…walk away from perfection and quite possibly my soul mate.

EchoEchoEcho

2009-08-10T01:05:00.004-04:00

I don't know what it is but I don't like it one bit.
Believe it or not...I am not the type that needs to be out and seen by everyone. Matter of fact, I'd rather be the person that sits in the corner without a lot of attention...it's the people watcher in me...

...lately I have been out a lot, a lot more than I need to be. And to be honest, I don't like it. When I say out...it's like going out...dressing up and going out...the drinking and going out...it's the spending too much money going out.

Started out with SOS coming to hang out with me on Friday night...its becoming something that it doesn't need to be and I am not backing away cautiously like I should. It's harder still by the fact he ain't walking away either...damn him.
Since I am not wanting to meet anyone knew and I am sort of illy with the Fireman...and everyone else is sort of blah...I am just enjoying the friendshsip we have and how comfortable we are.
Plus, this time around our friendship has evolved...I guess age will do that too you...we're in a different place individually as well as ...together.
I may be getting too comfortable but as soon as I get out of the funk from my last relationship, I will start to entertain the thought of dating a man...right now, I'm just not there...

...so, with that said...8 Patron shots later and I am ready to head home alone...but that's not quite how it turned out...

Saturday I was up fairly early despite being out so late the night before...Amus and I went to brunch which didn't help the hang-over. They have 7 different sangria mixes and it's all you can drink with brunch...yea, believe me when I say...I am doing too much right now and I am not even having as much fun as I should be. Which makes no fucking sense. I am definitely not acting my age and looking from my perspective, it's not a good thing.
I was tired and not relly wanting to head to the Hamptons... but of course with some harrassed convincing...I headed out to the island. $500 later and I am wondering...why the fuck did I bother. Not that I didn't want to go to the "hamptons" per se, but a nice weekend out at the beach is infintely more relaxing than being at some Russians dudes mansion and partying with people I don't know...but I was convinced...
Started off with me feeling bloated...but a couple of red bulls and being silly with my friends and I was in the mood to be seen....
Getting to the party was an adventure in and of itself.
I literally kissed the gravel in the parking lot...
BEFORE I even made it to the damn party...
Before I had a drink...
So I slipped back to wishing I was in Harlem, in a sundress and fliplops, enjoying a warm summer night with someone I want to be around....who is going to shower me with attention and lite kisses...
But I wasn't.
I was taking pics of this... :( My reminder that this was going to be a bad mistake...

All I am going to say about my Hamptons weekend...
I skinny dipped.
I took pictures.
...thank goodness...no one else had a camera but me...
And I have blackmail pics of people showing their ass...literally...and figuratively.
I went thru my pictures and deleted every picture that showed my tittie or ass...but...I must admit, there are some really sexy photos of moi...

I guess I am all weirded out over the whole thing...since I have never took a picture of myself showing any bodily parts...naked. SOS keeps asking me to send him a pic on his cell and I have refused everytime...I can't. I'm scary like that...
Well...
...obviously not anymore...
But best believe, it's not a habit I will be taking up...

However, I can check one more thing off my bucket list...

Value, Reflection and Motel!!??

2009-08-05T09:46:00.003-04:00

I let the 2nd pass without even thinking about it...
August 2nd 2004 is when I moved to NYC from California...I always celebrate that.
I guess since I moved back from an 11th month hiatus... I guess July 10th will be my new New York anniversary date.
Funny, August 9th would have been my one year anniversary of moving to the DC area.
There is one more date, July 29th, that went by without me remembering...but it was another anniversary that no longer applies so...blah!

Next Wednesday I fly into Richmond, VA for my family reunion...I was just picking my seat for my flight...and realized that I am going to be on one of those small ass rickety planes. Now, I have never had a problem flying...never ever. Matter of fact, I'd prefer flying than any other mode of transportation for travel...
BUT...I am terrified of those little planes. I am.
Umm, another thing, dad booked a room for me for the reunion at Super 8 for 4 nights!!!!
I've never stayed in a motel...for a reason! I am not sure I can do it...we will see how this works out...maybe there are no hotels in the country...maybe.

Then I will be in DC for the following week. I was thinking I didn't want to be away from my home for over a week...most of it has to do with living out of my suitcase...other part is that even though I left the area...I am actually missing it a little now. Maybe it's part of my process...so I mourn the experience, which makes me miss the area.

This weekend I will be in the Hampton's schmoozing it up with "key" people...whatever key people means...key to what? Everything I guess. Which means I am going to have to go buy a couple of 'fits so I am not looking less than "key" worthy. *rolling my eyes*

Laundry...everyone has it...I have a lot of it. I haven't found a pickup and drop off place yet...If I have to drag my laundry up and down these 4 flights of stairs...there is going to be trouble up in Harlem. 'Cause I will end up just buying new draw'rs instead of going up and down with a heavy ass bag of clothes.

My girl from Cal asked me about a trip that we were planning for November...we haven't talked about it since the last 2 years isn't around anymore. We had been looking into us girls and our men...well, I am man-less now so...she was like...go get a man! Then as a parting comment she says...or call Dude up and tell him to go one this last one trip. She got silence from me...
Of course she was just joking but deep down, that is another thing that I am mad at him about...I mean, there are SO SO SO many things I am mad at him for but being able to plan trips...even if we didn't take all of them...we still planned...

SOS is coming over this evening...to make me smile, so I can make him smile...and just because I guess...

Drink of Choice

2009-08-02T23:58:00.008-04:00

The day started out with a burst of hard rain…grey skies with no end in sight. I text him…
Mr. Banks…it’s raining hard.
I know baby. You still coming out?

It took me another 30 minutes to respond…it wasn’t a matter of the rain…more like the matter of my bed feeling too comfortable to leave on a cloudy Friday morning…

Yes, I am still coming.

I’d arrived early and decided to text SOS. SOS responded with a call back to me, we started off with two nice words and then it got all hostile n’ shit. I told him my date had arrived and got off the phone. It was more that I didn’t want to hear what he had to say… So I stood there on the sidewalk wondering where the hell Mr. Banks was. I text him and as I am waiting on his response he walks to me and gives me a big ol’ bear hug and kiss on the cheek.
I’d forgotten how…large he was.
Large…in the truest sense of the word.

It was the very perfect Cuban restaurant that anyone could ever ask for on a cloudy Friday. The décor was awesomely warm and seductive, I am sure that he picked it for that very reason. It was dark wood, bold velvet accessories and candles flickering with the slow and rhythmic beat of Cuban music playing in the background.
He asked if I liked the place and I told him I did, as I positioned myself comfortably into the cushions…
...he was pleased…and sort of full of himself for picking the perfect place for me to sort of come out of my hardened shell…then he orders a pitcher of red sangria and really…I could have fallen in love right there but…I didn’t.
We sat and talked for hours…literally. Three hours had passed before I asked whether or not he was going to return to work. He stayed another half hour before he made himself leave. He didn’t want to and really…the conversation was that good, I wasn’t really ready for him to leave. But there was no way I was going to let him know that. Plus, I’d found out during this getting-to-know-you conversation that he had a woman…for 3 years…
Same ol’ shit that I’d heard before…not happy, not satisfied, looking for something more, a deeper love…blah blah blah…

…but the conversation was good. But not good enough to make me venture down that road. Plus, he is so not my type… although, these days I am realizing that I don’t have a type. Either way, I enjoyed the afternoon. I stayed behind, I was meeting a friend uptown later on in the evening…so I wasn’t rushing to get up there…I sat in the seductive restaurant and drank another glass of sangria and then…he called me…

He would be Ray Ray from Takoma Park, Maryland… Now, Ray Ray is obviously not his name …I gave him the name Ray Ray Pookie Johnson, I’d given him that name one night when we were being silly. He’s never made advances towards me…and maybe that was his normal routine because it worked to make me comfortable with him. I actually liked the whole having a male friend without him coming on to me. Rarely does that happen…I know that if I say just a couple of words in the positive to any of my male friends….it would happen, they’d be down for the get down. I sort of hate that about men…but I guess it works in my favor if I actually like the guy…blah!

I mention that I am gong to be there for 4 days while my dad is in town…I knew I had a room to sleep in…he’d offered it to me when I was going thru the BS with the guy from the last 2 years. The two weeks before I left, he’d thought it would be safer at his house…considering none of my friends thought dude was in his right mind and the fact that he was a little volatile/hostile/desperate the whole month of June…so I knew I had a place to stay without even stressing on it.

He has this beautiful big house in an old part of TP…he’s landscaped it beautifully and the inside of the house is amazingly…old and creative and …eclectic. It’s like he has these old pieces of furniture that look like antiques but they are just weathered…and everything looks like it has a story behind it, like it’s been in the family forever. He’s definitely not a follower which is a great thing in a city full of pretentious people. I was obviously impressed he had put it all together himself. The afternoon I had spent over his house he was on the phone for 3 hours while he was on a conference call, I ordered Chinese for us and then I took my magazine and wrapped my body in a comfy chair in his sunroom and enjoyed the fact that it really felt like a get away versus hanging in my friends house for the afternoon. As he continued his call I decide to laze around his Asian inspired backyard. His house is for me…but that was never going to happen…

We talked shit, talked about my move, talked about my family reunion, talked about his ex, talked about his obsession with youth...in his companions and his vanity. He’d asked about my sex life [which has become the one question that I get asked routinely] and I teased him asking why he’s curious, he conveniently changed the subject. Although, we did have a awkward moment…he got quiet after I asked him a question…a question that was to be a joke but by his silence…he let me know that he has thought about me in another way…a different way than I had originally thought.
SO now, I will be back in Maryland for 4 days starting on the 17th to stay two nights at his house…and for some reason I am not sure his plan is to have me sleep in the extra bedroom anymore… I could be wrong, I hope that I am.
I could go ga-ga over a man like him…funny, intelligent, metro sexual and SINGLE…lol I am hoping he’s straight too…’cause I just realize, I described some of my gay friends to a T.

We hung up and I headed uptown…finally. SOS was meeting me up there and I swear…somewhere between Greenwich street and 125th…all that sangria caught up with me. I got to my desired location and waited on the hair pull and the kiss on the lips...and waited.

And then…
…he spoke of love and my jaw dropped to the ground.
Now, I’ve known that he loved me but he’d never actually told me…
…so hearing it…really really effected me.
Had he not been drunk…he wouldn’t have, I know that.
I asked for how long…and he gave me a specific date from 3 years ago…and again, I was floored.
…but because of me coming out of some things…I am emotionally unavailable for trying to be something that I can not be right now, which he knows...which now that I think about it, its the perfect time to tell me he loves me…LOL

Before this night is thru, I’m gonna do bad things to you…
SOS left at 7am and it’s a miracle we both hadn’t slept until the next afternoon because we’d been drinking and I was passed out and barely coherent. Neither of us had anything to do the next day but now that I am not in a relationship…it’s ok for me to want him to go so I could sleep soundly in my own bed… by myself.
I went back to sleep and literally slept until 5pm Saturday afternoon. I tried to get up but was hung over and I tried to watch tv but kept falling asleep, I tried to read a book but kept dozing…so I gave in and just let sleep embrace me.
SOStext me in the A.M. to ask how I was and to let me know, he’d enjoyed hanging out…which was awesome because I enjoyed it as well. I do believe the security camera in the elevator showed how much we enjoyed ourselves. Which means I would be mortified to go back to the ol’ watering hole.

Today was brunch, this evening was a nite time walk as I talked...about nothing and everything all at once. I am doing that a lot lately. I have a lot of conversation but...it's not like I really do...it's that I can now, more freely than I have in the past year without thinking it's going to end in an arguement. This works.

That is the extent of my last couple of days… nothing major and nothing to exciting…just another weekend to chalk up as …life experiences.

She's the Party Girl

2009-07-29T01:19:00.015-04:00

if it will make me feel better...I have nothing else to lose...

This is how I know I have grown up or either gotten old as hell...

I had been out since around 7pm and it was 12:30am when I looked at my watch and told my girl that I was heading home.
"Nooo, you’re my wing girl. You are the perfect wing-girl. Please come with me to One."

She added that I looked pretty, her little side dude told me I looked good and that there were to be plenty of men there....but see, that's not a selling point for me.
Either I am going...or I am not going...and at all times, it's up to me.
I am not generally swayed by what it is you want to do…selfish but…selfish I am.

I stood there watching them for a hot second as they acted like little lovesick teenagers with big ass smiles on their faces and all giggly and shit…bouncing around like excited puppies… I knew I had made the right choice.
So I jumped in the cab and I yelled out the window, loud enough for all gods creatures to hear...

He's not allowed upstairs, make sure of that!
He said, oh man....
She said, but what if we aren't ready to end the night?
I said, then you better do all your fucking in the car if that's what you got to do but he's not allowed upstairs.
The both laughed at me as well as half the sidewalk behind them…
…I waved farewell with my body leaning half out of the window like some old black and white movie…all extra…all dramatic and shit…and made my way uptown.

I sat in the back seat and realized that NYC was HOTT on a Tuesday night. But it's always busy down on 9th between eleventeen and twentyteen...restaurants and lounges everywhere. Doesn't hurt that The Roots were having a free concert RIGHT across the street from us [Maritime Hotel] and the line was no less than TWO blocks long...

I leaned in close and propped my boo-bies over the seat and started to talk to the cabbie...I’m not tipsy and I am not flirting but I am feeling pretty on this wonderful night in the heart of the city…and since I had no one to talk to...I was gonna gab away with the cabbie as he maneuvered the intricacies of yellow cab etiquette …which means he was driving dangerously like a bat out of hell. But I am used to the jerky movements of fast, and stop…
I swear they don’t know what the hell “slow down” or “cruise” means…but I guess time is money for them so…he and every other cabbie was out trying to make their money. I held on to the back of his seat for dear life as I tried to maintain my composure and generate lite conversation…
He tells me that he has had a busy night, so much in fact, that he was heading home early since he’d made his desired amount of money already. Which got me curious about how much is a desired amount for an evening out?? Of course I can’t ask him that…it’d be tacky…but then again…how would I ever know how much a cabbie brings in???
He talked to me about Queens, where he lives…alone… and as usual I told him the only time I'd ever been to Queens was on the 7 train to the Mets stadium and on the highway to and from JFK.
He proceeds to tell me he'd be more than willing to give me a tour one day and then take me to a late lunch or early dinner...
At this point I really feel like a live episode of TaxiCabConfessions and I start in on a lie about me dating someone right now and how I can't do too much without him being all jealous and CRAZY like... of course all lies but here too is where I have grown up or old...
I didn't want to just hurt the mans feelings and blast him out of the water with a “hell naw” comment…LOL After all...he could easily drive slower or take me the long way home and I end up having to pay the extra fare...lol So I put the blame of me not being able to hang out with him off on some imaginary boyfriend.
What do I care if I’m rude? Well, black women are notorious for being snobby with service workers so…I couldn’t perpetuate that stereotype, especially since I had sat my boo-bies all up in his face and small talked…c’mon now, I know what the fuck I was doing… Good thing I didn’t run into a crazy, right???
Ok, maybe I haven’t grown up…or maybe I was tipsy and forgot I was…lol

The driver “understood” and no longer tried to flirt with me but kept the conversation going. He even waited for me to get in my lobby door before driving off which is unheard of from a cabbie…in Harlem. Good thing I have a double door at apt lobby otherwise I might have a taxi cab stalker...lol

I got home at 12:50....that right there lets you know...I am either grown up or old.

The evening started out with me being invited to the mixer...I invited my girl because she needs to start meeting ppl that can help her along, instead of hanging with rappers dressed like LilWayne; muscley, wearing wife-beaters. Nice to look at but not really gonna help you get in the corporate door or on Obama’s green initiative. Yes, he's cute but he isn't someone she can take to a corporate event, hence she called him AFTER we'd left said mixer, to take her to one of the many juke joints [aka hang out spot] around the area.

She came to the mixer and from there we were headed to a Jets players bday party...and from there we were headed to jazz on the rooftop at Empire Hotel.
Well...we started at Maritime Hotel...and I ended at Maritime hotel.
I just didn't have anymore energy for arrogant ass "pitch" men that think being an asshole or being snarky quantifies as flirtatious report. It's crass and boring. Go. Away!
Plus One is known as the spot to be to meet celebs/athletes [as if that can’t be said about most NYC latest lounges/bar/restaurants] and as I have said many a time before my groupie days are long over...plus men my age don't hang out like that...oops, I meant...my calibre of men don't hang out like that unless they are "in the business" and I don't have the mentality to maintain a superficial conversation like that, well I do…but not tonite. Already my cheeks were hurting from my fake smile I had plastered on my face from meeting this and that person. Not that I didn't have a good time...but a...2 pitchers of sangria [again] and 2 glasses of merlot [which I hate...] and 1 glass of Cabernet...it was either plaster the fake smile or have the zoned out drunk look in my eyes.
[view the photos on FB]

Everyone had fun...and some...too much fun...lol

Sooo I am here...about to head to bed because it seems like I have been up since FOREVER. Meeting ppl that I will not remember and the one person who I was checking for...was not able to be gotten to because his boy was not letting me carry on a conversation with anyone but himself.
So I let perfection go and settled for being...the wing girl.
Which in the end suited me...

Sort of...turns out, I wasn’t suited that well for it...
Ol’ girl woke up fully dressed this morning and she calls me from her extra phone to ask me if I had her cell phone and her credit card...

Oh hell! The eff you go and do now???
Bloopty, I told you, you should have went with me...I need you to take care of me when I drink like that.
Well damn, don't drink like that.
But they keep putting drinks in my hand.
Darlin, ain't mean you got to drink them all!

So again...I am reflecting on when I became the one offering sage non-drinking tips. She does what I used to do...just last year...hell, maybe this year!!! I have truely met...my myself, if possible, which I know now is...she is me! Or rather I was her. A party girl that makes friendly with everyone. And all I can do is tell her to sloooow dooown, be careful.
I don't berate her or make fun of her [well not until she makes fun of herself]...just tell her to be careful and make sure she's with someone that cares before she gets too caught up. This chick has been all over the world and schmoozed with a lot of top ppl...so she knows...I give her the pass for last night...but...something tells me this is who she is...right now that is.
After all, this is just the 1st story about her, of 4 in the last week that I have told y'all about...lol
But we all have our demons and she is entitled to be wild…lawd knows I was…before, at some point, way way way back when…Ha!

I can't always be there like I was tonight...or rather…sorta was tonight…or rather, at the first place, the mixer…
She drank a lot and forgot she had one waiting at the table as she spoke to the other at the bar...so I had to go over and put myself smack dab in the middle of their conversation. I started asking him [a lawyer] if he knew of an entertainment lawyer for Slasher. Well he gave me a colleague’s info and before he knew it...she'd walked away and he was stuck with me. I flirted and danced and laughed too loud and smiled too wide just so this chick could finish her business at the table with the otha muthafucka. I timed it so...by the time I brought lawyer over to sit down, the other guy would be walking away.
I am a good ass wing-girl. Or either a good madam [read: pimp] in the making…
Buttarum, I'mma have to let her know that I am not going to be doing too much of that shit anymore.

I was speaking to KS today and I had an enlightening moment as I was walking to the bank...
Living was ok in NYC for me...it was only when I needed entertainment money that I started inquiring about a sponsor. It's expensive to have fun here. Imagine had I made all 3 events!! Not to mention I have set in stone plans for the next 5 days.

Randomness of He and I

2009-07-21T09:27:00.003-04:00

I just sat there and tried to not make eye contact with anyone. I probably looked real simple-minded to the average person walking down the street but I couldn’t help it.
Apparently my [un] covert way of avoiding people only really works in my mind because as I sat out on the stoop waiting…and waiting…a guy came up and asked me what I was mixed with.

Now just for politically correctness and over all couth…one should not walk up to another and ask them what they are mixed with. At least not at the age that I am now…and at the age that he was also…but I forget...I am sitting on a stoop...in Harlem.

This is going to sound odd…
But I hate looking different sometimes. I never really even thought about what I looked like until I moved to the east coast. But, I am constantly reminded that I am not the same. And to be even more complicated…of course I don’t want to be the same as everyone else but I don’t want to be approached because I am not. Or maybe I do. Whatever.

My Saturday was filled from top to bottom and I honestly hadn’t even thought that I’d be in the streets all day. I got up and took my time to get out because …well I am lazy as shit these past days. I knew that I had 3 things planned and wanted to make sure that I had at least an hour nap in between activities 2 and 3. Ummm, no.
I got out and dressed to show skin…it was sunny and I still I haven’t made it to my expected tan for the summer so I have been trying to be in the sun as much as possible so I could be as brown as possible…although my brown usually has a red undertone…wack. On one shoulder was my purse and the other my grass mat and folding chair…and before I made it down my 4 floors I was sweating like a ….[I refuse to compare myself to a pig.] And honestly, do pigs really sweat? So I walked up the block to the Harlem Book Fair and tried to get in the mood. Mood for what? Mood for ghetto lit being thrown my face. When I first started going to the book fair it was down on 125…since then it has moved up to 135th and it was at least 5 blocks long. Now it’s regulated to 2 blocks and the Schomberg. Disappointing. One block was for ghetto lit with a few [very few] tables for legit writers…and the next block was food and vendors. I walked in and walked out. I used to buy a good 7-10 books when I’d to go to the HBF…Saturday I walked out with not one single book. I’d much rather go into B&N and find a book worth substance than “support my black brethren and sistern”. Which in and of itself is sad. But I just can not support a shuffle and jive event like HBF. I can not say that I will even go back to HBF next year. Year after year I have gone and year after year it has gone down…down…down.

I left there and had to high-tail it to see QTip at summerstage. Can you be sun-logged? I have spent a good majority of 90 days in the sun and I am thinking I am having the raisin skin syndrome… and I am still struggling for a tan. Like a real tan…they say dsrker the berry, sweeter the juice so…me being the lighter side of ginger ale I figured I try and get a little sweeter. I can’t say that it’s working. I was hoping for a color that would carry me into the winter months…

From Central Park I headed back to the house to get changed and showered for the next phase of my Saturday. That didn't happen because...I was locked out of my apartment. So sticky, sweaty and summer dress me, had to go to function without nary a drop of water on me to make me feel all clean and shit. So...this is why I was sitting on my stoop while being assulted by random dudes asking me about my damn heritage. It was there, on my stoop, that I had to wait for the Fireman to come and pick me up…to head to BB Kings.
On his way over he called me and aske dif I would spend the night but…eh, I am cool with spending the night and having to wrestle or catch an attitude. I am not sure I am ready for whatever and whatever with this particular person isn’t really a stay or leave situation. I care about his heart and right now…I am in no position to play with it. Actually, I have never played with it. Matter of fact, I have always stepped away from it to safe guard it. I consider him my friend. Nothing less and nothing more. So I am not going to fuck around and take in his goodness just because I am on some other shit right now. This is the area that Slish wanders into when he is deciding [ordering] I should…sloooow dooown. Which isn't needed because I know when to step back and take a look around and realize that things aren't what they should be...

We went to the “concert”, ate and enjoyed the music, food and company and then I asked him to take me home. I could tell that that wasn’t his plan, that he wanted to try and convince me to lay in his bed but I looked at him as if to say...please don't make me have to be a complete ass…but he understood. Sort of.
He took me home and although it isn’t what I want it to be right now, it is still my little sanctuary.
I set my alarm because I knew that I had to be up and ready by a certain time to join him for brunch the next morning...

I spoke to my father the other day, I wanted to wish him well and remind him to send me his itinerary…he is off to Ecuador for two weeks…
As we talked, he told me that he had deleted all the graduation-week pictures that had Dude in them. At the time I said that I had to go through my pic album and start deleting too…but when I opened up my pics…I realized I was going to have to keep some…because most of the pics from that week in California…well he’s in the pictures with the boys in some way. And there is no way I am deleting pictures of my boys.
When he came by to get his stuff a few weeks back…I’d made a cd of pictures for him, of him. I didn’t label it on purpose and to think of it…he probably hasn’t even looked at the cd. I don’t know…my friends have said that I was too nice in even doing that but…fuck it, I have never been one that was into tit-for-tat…I knew I had pictures that he didn’t have and not just of him but his niece and his cousin so I put them on the cd as well. I am pretty sure I put other random pics on there because I was trying to hurry, so selecting all to copy was easier than doing one at a time.
Well…the other day I was going through my cell and I realized I had pictures of him from the inaugural ball, sitting on my couch naked from when he came to my house one morning wearing nothing but a trench coat [lol], him laying on the bed at the Ritz-Carlton in Philly and other random shots…well, I emailed those to myself and then deleted them from my phone… I don’t know why I haven’t deleted them completely. I am sure that part of it is because of certain memories of places…but the other part is because I still haven’t completely gotten over the fact that I got played in the end. I could delete the pictures but it wouldn’t delete the memory so…I’d like to think that some, if not most, of those pictures that show him and I smiling…I’d like to think that it was real at that moment even if it was a lie as a whole.
Blah!
I know there will come a time that I will trash them but I have actually got a huge 2 year library of photos of him and I…
I could, at the very least…move all those pics into one single file and just hide it somewhere…ah…I don’t know. Fuck!

Short Overview...Long Post

2009-07-19T22:29:00.007-04:00

I was in a texting showdown with Slish...
He told me I need to slow down. I had to reiterate that I am not on some racetrack. I am not doing anything but getting reaquainted...that didn't seem to eleviate his irritation. Blah! Either he thinks I am going to give the panties [and what's in them] to some random brotha-man and have someone panting after me like some love sick puppy...or he thinks I am going to jump into a relationship to offset the wack shit I just left. All in all, I am not as vulnerable as he seems to think I am.
If I was wanting someones Mr. Goodbar...I didn't have to come to NYC and do that. I could have kept my ass in the greater DC area.

Fireman got it loud and clear at brunch today that I don't think of him in regards to marriage or long-term. He understood. Honestly, he did. That has never stopped him from "Spaghetti". My non-action/non-reaction has never stopped him from telling me he loves me. In that regard, he is unlike most men in that he doesn't weigh his feelings against mine...he says what he feels with no expectation.

This past week was a little busy but I swear there were two nights that I did nothing but stay home. Tuesday I had my first visitor and then I headed out with Amus and closed down Dinosaur complete with one Donkey Punch too many. I went and had dinner by myself at Pomodoro on Columbus after coming from B&N. AJ told me to pick up WomenWhoRunWithTheWolves...and once I skimmed the chapters...there was one that stood out more than any other...
Chapter 5 Skeleton Woman: Facing the Life/Death/Life Nature of Love
I haven't gotten that far yet. Matter of fact I am only on page 12 I think...that hasn't even started a chapter yet...still in the foreward.

I was invited to a Chico DeBarge record release; Chico and Joe.
I invited the biggest Yankee fan I know to the Yankee game on Friday.

Got rained out around the 8th inning. Here is my Yankee memorable cup. I am not sure where that is right now, odd.

Saturday I went to the Harlem Book Fair and once again...was sadly disappointed how small and ghetto [lit] the fair was. I met up with 2 friends at Central Park to watch QTip at summerstage and then had two tickets I'd purchased, arond the same time as the yankee tickets, to go to BB Kings for a soul concert.
Today I went to brunch then headed to Central Park once again for a picnic with Berry and her friends. Ended up being there all day. I witnessed a bride and groom...or a quincenera.

This morning I had to change out my purse and left my cell phone on my bed. I was only expecting a call from one person but chances were...that person wouldn't/couldn't leave their place anyway. So I was cellphone-less today until I got home.

While at the game on Friday...I was sitting drinking my beer and snapping peanuts open and throwing the shells all over that new stadium...it felt like a magical night...for me. But as I sat there on a warm and humid night watching the game I thought of him for the first time without malice. He would have liked the new stadium, he would have enjoyed himself...and then I thought...of his very last words to me as he yelled at me in front of my home...and shake my head.
I am glad he wasn't there with me. Glad he is with his wife and whoever else he decides he needs to make him feel like a man. 'Cause there is no way in hell he could be satisfied with what he's chosen, he'd always need more.
But, for once in the past month...I was ok with thinking of him in a good way.

Imagine

2009-07-12T23:48:00.003-04:00

The night before AJ and I had made our way home after 2 music sets and 2…3…4 glasses of wine and a huge plate of nachos we shared. Listening to music…and the band hot, on fire! Not for sure but…doped up they may have been but it mattered not because they flew from rock, to old school hip hop, to r&b, to MJ… the music made my heart vibrate but the voice made me want to throw my panties but …I’m too old for that shit and even when I was a spring chicken…I wasn’t throwing my draws on no one’s stage…eva.

I got home and crashed…but made sure to set my alarm for 10 because I knew at 11am I had to be at Sarabeth’s for brunch.
Ummm, I woke up early but I got caught up straightening my things and searching for shit to wear since everything was still in boxes…I ended up being late…for my brunch double-date. I was meeting AJ and Slish for brunch. I recall texting Slish early to ask if he could pick me up…but he text me back AT 11 to say, sure. I am thinking…broham, your late! I ended catching a gypsy cab to 81st and Amsterdam. AJ and I met up first at the restaurant…I knew that she’s be outside because without fail…there was going to be a wait. She says it’s the home-made biscuits…I say that that’s just NY on a Sunday morning for brunch. Slish showed up in the batmobile and …well we got our tables and our mimosa’s and then the conversation began. Now…I know Slish from way back…and I know AJ from way back…but Slish and AJ had not yet met so I sat back and let their conversation flow. I have things on my mind and my brain is weary. I have bruises and muscle spasms from moving and as usual…I have a headache. I was having a good time but…my mind was on what was going on internally.
It must have been in this time that Slish turns to me and says…”Dev said you looked like you had a lot on your mind. Have you lost weight?” I laughed because if anything…I have gained a good 200 lbs in the last month but…I grunted at Dev’s perceptiveness and grunted again because Slish had reached across and emphasized my smallness by checking out my flabby arms.
Slish, ever the one to take care of me, had his cousin Dev help me move. It was but a day or two earlier that his other cousin Bowie had told me where to take AJ in Bowie. And it was Slish who orchestrated my move.
He told me I looked tired.
He asked if I was ok.
He meant it this time but this time…we didn’t have time for that conversation….and truth be told…he knows everything as it is. So…I’d just be reiterating things I have already said and …I was tired of telling that tell.

We parted and I took pics…ever the one to save a moment. *Group pics posted on facebook...*
Slish to …home?

AJ and I headed to …everywhere…lol We walked and talked and looked and we were quiet. We finally ended up in Central Park again…and this day…we took a table at the Boathouse and I snatched my first NY bar menu from there. We drank…and drank…her a chardonnay and me a cabernet. Cheese, and fruit…we talked about life and love and what all that means at the end of our days and where do we take that knowledge and how doe sit affect us.
Next stop…well…next 3 stops on our way to dinner… hmmm, was it jazz music, the Afro-Caribbean music and finally Hatian music?

And if that were not enough…we went ol’ skool NY in the summer time and ended with watching Studio 54 alumni as they took it back to the Roxy and roller-skated to disco music… reminded me of beat street, electric boogaloo, Staying Alive and every other movie from back in the 80’s.
We ended up at Arte Italiano or something like that for dinner and over a bottle of rose... I learned AJ’s story and I learned where she became the strong woman that she is and I learned that life gives you wisdom and wisdom you have to teach…to share.
We parted and made promises of more trips and more conversation and to remember that we have spent the better part of 2 weeks together. I knew I’d miss her the moment she walked away. I had a friend form Cal…like my other friends from Cal…and I knew that come Monday morning…she’d start her journey back to LA.

I’ve deliberately opened my festering wound and let the puss seep out so that I could clean it up and salve it with a medicine that would take away the pain and the disease that tried to settle in and destroy me…
I’ve scraped away the crusty scabs that had not healed…and put a new protectant on my wounds to make them clean. It is time to close those soars and let them heal, to remember where the scars come from so that I know never, ever to play with fire and the devil’s trident again…

Today was a perfect day and I felt arms around me and I was…inspired… IMAGINE.

Here is our last look out onto CPW.

Mister Car - Ter...

2009-07-11T23:58:00.000-04:00

It feels like I never left. As AJ and I made our way to the GW bridge to take us into the last leg of our road-trip into Harlem… I was reminded of why I love NY city. Despite the traffic at 8 in the morning…and me driving a big ass truck like I got paid to do it. I squeezed myself between to trucks and posted myself on the bumper of another truck as we made our slow roll across the Hudson.

I am glad that AJ stayed up and talked to me the whole 4.5 hours. I belatedly realized that I packed only slow music and if she had been sleeping…my mind would have drifted elsewhere.

It was less than 24 hours before, on Thursday, that I had crossed over the Woodrow Wilson bridge and looked to my right and said out my window…”Peace, out bitches.” I don’t think I was speaking to anyone in particular but I was reminded that exit 2 was where Mediocrity and Settling resided…I just laughed at the fact that some people will stay stuck on stupid…but me…I was moving on.

I told AJ that I would hang with her after the boxes were to be unloaded. We were going to celebrate with some drinks…I was NY again. Umm, I think I tect her around 9 to say it was a no go. But come Saturday…

We were meeting at the jazz fest in Central Park…it was thee most perfect day. We ran into her aunt…she brought her friend and everything just flowed…conversation, music and vibe. And as I sat there and took it in I realized that the vibration of the city was settling my soul and I was starting on something new and something familiar all at the same time. I sat and I listened and I took in everything, everyone and I wondered…have I been this content…recently? I sat back in my chair as AJ’s frined listened to the music and as AJ visited with her aunt and I felt…good. I closed my eyes and listened to afro Cuban jazz…

Saturday night AJ and I decided to conquer the rain and we headed to Groove…Oh. My. Goodness! We had fun. The music was everything…no, everything!! I am not sure what the reason was…or what I was suppose to glean…but being in AJ’s presence for the past week…I learned a lot. About her, about me…about shit in general.

Of course, there was a moment of MJ love and I looked in the corner and I saw this…one white glove standing out in a crowded bar full of people...

I love NY y’all. I am not saying this is my home forever… I don’t see myself here past 5 years but for now…I am going enjoy this like I did when I first moved here…because like then…I am going to enjoy life again.

Heeheehee

2009-07-11T13:20:00.003-04:00

Guess where I live...

That's right baby...yesterday made me an official NY'er...again.

Off to jazz in Central Park with AJ.
Will be back to write more.

I think I feel it *wink*

Blame It On Me...I Don't Care

2009-07-09T10:51:00.007-04:00

I am going to need for you to please go away and forget everything.
Please don't contact me with fake blog address on blogger, when it's wordpress. I wasn't going to read you then...and I am not going to read you now. Not that important to me.
Please stop emailing my father; your business is complete.
Please don't come here and check on me.
Please no need to try and convince anyone else.
Please don't try to press your point.
All the words have been spoken.

Sometimes you can work it out
Sometimes you can't
Sometimes you're forced to watch everything fall apart its outta your hands
Sometimes leaving is easy
Sometimes it aint
Sometimes it hurts to know the loving you had was slowly fading away

(chorus)
You can say whatever you like
As long as we just say goodbye
BLAME IT ON ME
Say its my fault
Say that I left you outside in the cold with a broken heart
I really don't care
I aint crying no more
Say I'm a liar, a cheater
Say anything that you want
As long as it's over

I aint a quitter
I just aint the type
I tried to see you through
I tried to make it to the finishing line
Oooh you thought it was meant to be
Yeah, I admit so did I
Every once in a while you think you figured it out
Sometimes your not right

(chorus)
You can say whatever you like
As long as we just say goodbye
BLAME IT ON ME
Say its my fault
Say that I left you outside in the cold with a broken heart
I really don't care
I aint crying no more
Say I'm a liar, a cheater
Say anything that you want
As long as it's over

You Don't Like Your Reflection, Do You?

2009-07-07T09:08:00.001-04:00

My father said, "he has no reason to lie to me. He told me that he had moved to New Jersey and that he would be there for a couple of months to get his head right and his life on track...or something like that."

I reminded my father that he never had a reason to lie...he's habitual. He does it for no reason, about everything...his words can't be trusted, period.

My father said, "but Sweet Pea", as if my petname would make me better understand.
"But Sweet Pea, he has no reason to lie to me. I opened my home to him, broke bread with him...he wouldn't lie to me."

Now I am getting frustrated and a little mad because...yea daddy, I hear you. But if I did all that you have done, AS WELL AS, gave him my body; my love and 2 years of my life and he lied to me all the way thru it...what makes my father think that he has somehow found integrity with him? If he can call me a liar, a bitch, stupid and a loser to prove a point to another woman...after all that he has told me, all the love he's professed he had for me...why dad, can you not understand that he could lie to you too?

My dad believed that there was a certain honor and integrity amongst men...a sort of man code I guess.

"Well dad, he was there at the bar last night "coincidentally", he is still living here, he's not going anywhere, he told you that in hopes that you'd tell me that...it was a lie to get me to hopefully talk to him when he was stalking my cellphone."

Uncharacteristically, my daddy cussed, "that muthafucka. I CAN NOT believe him. He didn't have to tell me anything..."
And then he trailed off, as he tried to internally understand such a man...

All I could do is shake my head and say, "I told you how he was. You have to take everything he says with a grain of salt. He lies to find his own comfort. He doesn't know the definition of honor or integrity."

And then I changed the subject because...he never had a reason to lie.
~~~~

My auntie sent me the below link...I may just be finding out about this and this very well might be old as dirt...but it's scaaaary.
Not that I have anything to hide but...just the thought...

Cellphones
~~~~

I just realized that I have a lot of little stuff that I could probably throw away...that had a little bit of sentimental value. However, I threw away all my Mardi Gras beads...I am ditching my stuffed panda that was bought to look over me when I was alone. But I am also relaizing that I horde paper...tablet after tablet of writings that never had an ending to thier beginning.
It's actually sort of traumatizing moving...Blah.

One last thing...
I opened up the pantry door and I am just curious as to why my roomie would need 7 boxes of Special K cereal...just wondering...are they going out of business and she wants to make sure she has her fav cereal...is she on some special diet that I have never heard of...is there a door-to-door service that specializes in selling Special K, like girl scout cookies...just wondering.

Everybody Likes To Cha Cha Cha

2009-07-06T16:01:00.009-04:00

I went to take a shower at 4:30 in the afternoon. Needed to get ready for the evening festivities. Showered, hair did, and had about 40 minutes left to find something to wear. I must have changed 5 times.
I really didn’t want to go out but…I will soon be gone and impromptu outings with family will be lost. I have already wasted so many other times, being somewhere else with someone else, rather than hanging out with them.
…I wasn’t trying to be “sexy” with the aunties…but I wanted to feel good about myself, about my looks. Couldn’t find the happy medium and ended up with jeans, a wack shirt and my favorite gold sandals.

Sidenote: Please DO NOT click picture. My feet are ashy as hell and you ain't need to see that all up close dammit!

Everyone made it to my house and from there…we headed into DC…

I hadn’t even made it out of the car good before some ReRun look-a-like comes up to me and starts in on trying to convince my little group into coming upstairs to listen/dance to old skool 70’s and 80’s music. They had a BBQ buffet…so the idea of music and food for $5 was almost tempting…but…not a seller for me. But the group wanted to go see what ReRun was talking about.
Right off the bat…we walked into a “room” that looked like the Elks Lodge had been rented out by Uncle Boojack and Cousin Pookie…complete with a buffet that looked like someone had just brought in their leftovers from the 4th’s BBQ cook out in a backyard in Suitland. I am NOT eating some home cooked meal from Shaniqua’s oven while her sister Claritha braided hair at the kitchen table.
I told my group that they could eat there…but ummm, I cain’t…just cain’t.

SIDENOTE: I find it mind boggling that I have lived here 11 months and my aunties were asking me the directions to freaking U St. Ummm, just keep driving straight and follow the streets in alphabetical order…ummm, DUH! They have lived here since 1984…and I have lived here since 2008….and you are asking me how to get around? [/]

We ended up at a restaurant and after they order some strong ass drinks…we started talking…about what you ask?
Anal sex…and porno.
Now…my auntie’s grand-daughter gives pleasure parties…so that’s how we, sort of, got on the subject of sex. She pulls out one of her little brochures after the plates are cleared.
Now, y’all know that there is no shame in my sex game, so I didn’t even look at the book since I think I am pretty on par with the act of intimacy. Plus, I have all the toys I need to sustain myself in this new self-imposed draught that I am going to undergo for the next 6 months (well that’s the plan…but someone told me that plans are meant to be broken)…so I go back to watching ESPN while they talk shop. But then we go back to the roundtable discussion and I get drawn in.
They think I am so worldly and whatnot…but the questions they were asking weren’t “worldly” but more along the lines of “raunchy”…so I have to evaluate their definition of worldly.
Now, you all know I know a little something about Madness (read: porn) and that I may or may not have a small library of my own…but I found out that that may or may not run in my family. Like its hereditary or something. ‘Cause I found out that my auntie may or may not have her own library.
So we they start talking about the different…desires/fetishes/proclivities/perversions…such as…fisting…and double penetration. I was shocked to say the least. I mean, these are conversations that you have with your man…and/or girlfriends…and/or therapist…but your aunties? Not so much. And it was absolutely inappropriate…thank goodness we had no others sitting by us. It wouldn’t have matter though, since voices started to get higher since everyone wanted to be heard and share their little bit of sexual knowledge.
I kept my mouth shut. Oddly.
I mean, next to this little group of women…I realized I wasn’t as up on the freaky (that could be in me).
I realized that the old heads had more experience than I wanted to hear. And they had no qualms in talking about it.
I was speechless. No…really.
Well…until it came to my cousin. She looked at the group as if they had all suddenly talked Turkish. So I asked her if she had ever had anal, no. Have you ever entertained the thought of bringing a toy into the sex act, no. Ummm, how many positions have you tried, 2? She answers with a nervous laugh and says nooooo…as she puts her head down. I asked if she asks her man to slap her ass when he’s hittin’ it from the back…and she said “no, he does it on his own. I don’t see why he does it, I don’t get anything from the smack on the ass.”
She was so…uninterested and un-enthused that I felt that I needed to be sitting in a chair in the corner and coach them as she and her husband went at it. Of course that wouldn’t happen considering her husband barely likes me in the house much less…in the room with them as I was critiquing his sex game. Just sayin’…I could be a great sex therapist and coach…’cause clearly…he ain’t doin’ right by my cousin.
I should have known that the conversation was going to go loopy when they were ordering bar drinks and I was still drinking Shirley Temples and glasses of water.
I realized too late that a should have had a couple drinks to keep up with this conversation...'cause I was somewhat blushing...ummm, somewhat.

We left the restaurant and went to listened to some jazz. I actually fell asleep during the first 4 songs because…it was dark and the music was slow and sultry…and I haven’t stopped my mind from being active while I sleep. So I was in the right atmosphere for relaxing and finally…sleeping.
I shook it off and I pulled out my camera and took some pics of us… Looking at the pictures I am reminded that I look so much different than them…yet at the same time…we have the same facial features/characteristics. Our relation can not be disputed but…I am still different.

I got home by 11 and started in watching the telly and then that teary eyed-ness came back…
I cried over Stockard Channing and Angie Jolie…
Yea…It’s a given…I should be miserable next week. That’s ok because I was dreading that it would be just my luck that I wouldn’t be miserable in this way but in an entirely different way. So the emotions are understood…I will be miserable for 2.5 days next week.

Headed to Cap Blvd with AJ for my last little outing while in this area.
This time pictures will be taken!!! Last week we both had a lapse in memory and cameras were left in purses.

Hope you had a great Monday!

B~E~Z

Native Meditation

2009-07-05T12:01:00.010-04:00

Elder's Meditation of the Day - July 5

"It does not require many words to speak the truth."
--Chief Joseph, NEZ PERCE

The truth shall set you free. This is the truth. When we speak the Truth, we do not need to be defensive. Truth needs no defense. When we speak the Truth, we do not need to attack because Truth cannot be attacked. It is so easy to want to manipulate or to be deceitful or dishonest. My head tells me I can get away with doing these things, after all everybody does it.

Prayer:
My Creator, today let me know Truth. Let me live Truth. Let me risk the Truth. Let me make the Truth sweet. Help me to make my word good. Let Your spirit and intent be added to by words. Let My thoughts be Truth.
~~~~

I have been watching ANTM for the last 2 hours. I don’t even like this show but…nothing else is on and I keep telling myself…pack…pack…pack.
And yet…I just sit here…eating popcorn, a whatchamacallit and drinking water and downloading music from Music To My Ears. I bought myself an iPod finally…so now I have more music to add to it.
Wondering if I should just ditch everything but my books, my shoes and clothes. I could sell the rest of my stuff or give it away on CL…
I already ordered a new bed for my new home and figured I’d put current bed in the 2nd room. So…other than the bookshelf and the dining table…everything else is just trash. Including my once beloved plasma. Although, it has been fine since evil left my house. Odd that. Granted when I first turn it on, it still has squiggly lines but clears up relatively fast.
Blah!
I don’t know. But I better make a decision soon. Everyone thinks that I should ditch and start anew. But as we know, I rarely do what everyone thinks I should do. I should learn to go with the status quo sometimes.

Swifter commercials are hilarious…the one where the duster is on the laptop trying to webcam…“don’t you want me baby?” As you can tell…I am bored.

Tonight I am heading out to a spot on U Street with aunties, their friends and my cousin. I am hoping no chaos ensues. Never know with the aunties. I am not necessarily down for being social today but… I think it will be nice to laugh with them. My big booty auntie wants to shake her money maker and since I know that can not be missed…I am going just for that…lol
Packing tomorrow and then happy hour with Aunt Jackie.

Finale: Well Let's Hope

2009-06-29T23:50:00.010-04:00

It started out as a good day… had plans to do a couple of things. One was to pick up some boxes but by the time I got there…they were out and I was going to have to go somewhere else to pick them up. So I figured that I would do that tomorrow.
Next was the stop at the post office to put in a change of address…and to get my mail. Well…to my surprise…my box was empty. This is the same POB that he had gotten for me when I was in California last year. So I am stressed because…from what I know, he is spiteful enough to hold my mail as hostage. Which it turns out he did.

So then from there my day went down the drain and thoughts of spending the afternoon out at my friends pool were slowly dwindling away. I could no longer focus on conversation and could no longer be happy today.
Phone call after phone call…I had been avoiding in the past couple of days…but 27 calls later…today, I finally answered a call…and I guess he felt like creating hell on earth today.

Check this out:
If I crash my own car…but get mad at you for me crashing my car…
What would that make me? Sort of delusional and a little crazy?
But of course he doesn’t see that.
So all the lies that he’s told…he’s actually mad at me for catching him and calling him on his lies. He’s essentially mad at me for him lying and him cheating on his wife. A piece of work. I can’t be bothered with his level of insanity.
The phone calls and the texts…well, I could deal with that because I could just ignore them. But this other stuff …well…
I’ve never dealt with drama like that before. I mean…I’m just extra on the side…why so much emotion for someone that meant nothing to you??
My house-mates were fed up with the drama and they called the police…of course, he left before they came.

Arrghh, I can’t fathom the hate or the need to hold onto it. If I meant nothing to him as he says…then why not just walk away...
I have walked away without any desire to reach out to him for anything. Why is it so easy for me to walk away? Did I not love him?

In the very end… his actions aren’t surprising and I sort of figured he'd react in some way like this. He’s gone through his rollercoaster of emotions and I knew that he’d end it with anger/hate. I just didn’t realize the extreme actions. Actions that he could have left well enough alone with me…and lied his way through with his wife.
It’s like for the past 5 days he’s been trying to convince me that he loves me, begging to see me and expressing how much he missed me…since I was his shot at a different life; different than what he’d been in for 13 years…but then when I didn’t respond to his contacting me, he decided he had to make good with his wife since he was probably about to lose both of us. He’d rather have someone than no one at all.
His performance today was Oscar worthy...I know that it wasn't for me, it was for her. He needed to disrespect me, to make himself look good. He had done the same thing with me when he spoke about her. Listed all the things bad about her, to make me stay with him. He's transparent, yet she doesn't see it.

I hope he recognized that there were so many things I didn’t reveal to his wife when she/they called me; they put me on speaker phone.
She wanted to know about him and I…so that was what I gave her. I didn’t mention the other things that could have done equal if not more damage to a situation that was already volatile. I took responsibility in the part I played in all of this.
He could justify it all he wanted, as he does...but I take resposibility for my own actions without trying to deflect.
She has accepted him and his version of the truth for so long, so many years…me exposing some of his bad wouldn’t have made a difference. I knew as he told me, that she would stand by her man. He told me she would never leave him; he said she wasn’t strong enough to live without him. That's why he was leaving her.
She said she’d pray for me, I told her she should and she should also pray for herself, her husband and her marriage.
No matter how much God is in her…and how much the “covenant of God covers her house”, she has to wonder if her prayer is being heard if her husband has been cheating on her for 11 of the 13 years they have been married.
I hope she gave him more than an earful…I hope she slapped the shit out of him for making her have to go through this. I am just surprised she didn’t know about the other woman. I can’t fathom my husband sleeping away from home 3-4 times a week and not knowing that something is going on… Or the fact that another woman has been driving your husbands car for a good part of a year and you have seen her in it.
I used to think she was dumb and naïve. I still think she is a little naïve but I also think she wanted to believe the lie so bad that she didn’t want to question the absurdity of his reason. Just like me.
He played her…just like he played me.
But to him…I am the one that’s in the wrong…

I was debating if I’d delete all the post that involved him. I’ve already deleted every picture. But then I thought about it… I am not going to be ashamed for loving him because the “person” and “life” that he described to me, was who I fell in love with. Was I bamboozled, yes maybe…was I in denial, yes admittedly… was I lead to believe something other than the truth, hell yes.
My post that deal with him for the past two years will remain…and I will be able to go back and look at what I have experienced and be able to be ok with this outcome. I am not mad anymore…or hating anymore…I am just tired and I just hope he leaves me alone.

I have blocked his numbers from my phone...and my sons, so that he doesn't bother them. I have blocked his email address. I am moving out of town. I recognize my part in this chaos and no longer care about whether he takes responsibility for his actions. I no longer care for anything other than just moving forward. I can’t look in the past anymore concerning this experience. What’s done is done and now… I won’t dwell on it anymore.
So…this will be the last post that addresses him and our past relationship.
Unless of course he does something else...in which case, it would be just a documentation of evnets, for myself on the world wide web.
Afterall, I am not sure how far he is willing to go to make his point to his wife, so for safety issues...

We are better off not liking each other and he has shown me he was right… I was just the good time...and his wife is his lifetime…I have no problem with his definition of what our time was. He should focus on her like he should have been doing all along and I need to focus on me…since I have my fair share to atone for…

And Away We Go...

2009-06-27T19:42:00.005-04:00

Alli are you ok?… Are you ok?…Alli are you ok? Are you ok Alli?

I honestly feel like I have not gotten the required amount of sleep that Bloopty needs to be…nice, calm and cool…functional.
But then again…I was holed in the house at the beginning of the week sleeping my days away…refusing to go anywhere in case I might get caught off guard which might have had me punching a cheating muthafucka in his lying ass mouth.
Naw, naw…I wouldn’t do that. I don’t think.

So…Thursday my cousin asked me to come along with her…and baby cousin to 6Flags…what she forgot to tell me was that it was baby cousins birthday “party”…a half a dozen of other peoples bad ass kids came along. Now anything …’scuse me, any persons under the age of 3 I can deal with...pubescent junior higher’s…not so much. Too much freaking energy, they talk way too much and way to fast…and inevitably a little girls is going to want to braid my hair or sit up under me like I am her new BFF…
I ain’t down for kids over the age of 3 unless they are mine.

So we are out at 6Flags in Largo and it’s hot and it’s a beautiful day and I am wading in the water and thinking…funny how things work out…I was suppose to be at another Theme park; Kings Dominion…and here I am…riding rides that have my stomach in my throat, holding on for dear life and screaming on roller coasters… I thanked my cousin because that is definitely what I needed…some levity to a heavy 7 days. I got more sun and before you know it I was making BFF’s with a 12 year old…we road side by side on one ride and as I screamed and she laughed at me…we connected and from that one ride…the remaining 5 hours spent at the park…she went from knowing me as JDan ‘s cousin to now…”auntie”…
I’m bad like that…cool like that…
Just another part of me.

It was there that Oldest called me and asked me if I’d seen the news about Michael…I hadn’t. He told me he was dead…and of course I told him to get home and google it…to see if it was true. I hung up and text Ms. Hollywood…My auntie AJ. She confirmed and from there…I started getting text all day long

One of my memorable moments with MJ singing in the background…or rather in my head…I’d say I was too young for my current long standing personal theme music of Sweet Sticky Thing.
But when I was 13…I was out at the amusement in Cal and I was waiting in line to get on a ride and this boy who was working the ride kept staring at me. His negligent ass got up from the ride and came over to talk to me and all he kept calling me was a PYT (Pretty Young Thing)… I was embarrassed and thrilled all at the same time. I went home that day and every day after that and played that song and dreamed what it would be like to have a boyfriend…the what if’s of that afternoon had I been bold and gave the ride handler my number. PYT was my theme music at 13.
Ah, Michael and the memories he left behind.
I had the poster of him in his white clothes with the yellow sleeveless sweater…I used to kiss that poster every night before bed.

We finally left a park after hours and hours…and I spent more money than I planned.
I had been up since 6:30 and went to bed way too late… I had to be up early on Friday to catch the bus to NYC… had some business that needed to be handled before I make a change… It was a turn around because I had to be back for breakfast with my aunties on Saturday morning. It was supposed to be the last one I would attend before our family reunion in a couple of months.
I got to NYC at 11:30am and took care of my business and then had a couple of hours to spare… I hadn’t let anyone know I was coming and those that I did I was vague about the particulars…it was a turn-around trip so wasn’t looking to hang out or make conversation like that… was gonna sneak in and out…be that Smooth Criminal.
All thru NYC they are remembering the King of Pop…I had to take this picture so that I’d have something to have years from now…to remember…

I had 2 hours to spare and ended up at Local…sat out and enjoyed the day and drank 3 martini’s…ordered a plate of nachos and ppl watched. Then I made my way back to the bus…it was an hour late…but before that it …STORMED…hard, with lightening…while I am across from Madison Square Garden…out. In. the. Freaking. Rain. Waiting. On . the. Damn. Bus!
Got back to DC at 1230 and walked the streets of DC on a Friday night and realized…I haven’t given this place a chance to grow on me. I’d always been caught up, everywhere I went, everyone I met...I was never alone and now I have the chance to see it in a total different view. But I realized that to stay would be settling and as the saying go… Don’t stop ‘til you get enough…so I am leaving and it’s time to get mine on the way. It is time to Beat It.

Got home at 130am and asleep by 230 to wake up at 530am… I was headed to Petersburg. Yea, that’s what I thought too…da hell is Petersburg? And why is it Peters? I slept in the car…a two hour ride…for freaking breakfast.

We ate and talked and laughed.
All the aunties and my cousin…remembering stories…and I actually found out that my dad and two of my uncles beat down one of my granny’s husbands back in the day. Apparently said husband thought he had the right to lay hands on his wife. I guess he forgot she had 5 sons…3 of which commence to beating his ass and throwing him out of the house then beating him down on the lawn. Gotta Be Startin’ Something…he wanted to be starting something.
My daddy? Beating some ass? Some grown man ass?
He’s BAD…he’s bad.
Heeheehee

It took us 3.5 hours to get back from Petersburgh…so DC Carribbean day festival…shot. The DC BBQ festival…shot.
I did make it out to National Harbor to the Recess: Ice Cream Social for adults…game night at the W. It was fun... Genuine fun. I was hoping and praying I wasn’t going to feel pressured to be something I didn’t want to be since this the harbor, is his and his friends hang out. Thankfully I saw no one and if they saw me… they didn’t say anything to me…bunch of fucking sadist that the are. The pressure would have made me Scream.

Ray Ray “Pookie” Johnson called me and wanted me to come into DC to have a drink but…I wasn’t trying to be out all night since my plan is to go to church tomorrow. I am just trying to get out a little while I am still here and enjoy my last couple of days here. Told Pookie and dem that I would meet up with him tomorrow and maybe we could catch the last leg of the Caribbean fest…if it doesn’t rain. I need to be in front of a tv at 9 for TrueBlood…and also for whatever tribute BET is going to give MJ at their awards show.

My mind is at peace and my heart has healed. In close to 2 years, I really don’t know truth from lie and will never know…so I have literally put it out of my mind. I have not shed a tear or hated anyone. I was just disappointed and thought how pathetic ones life has to be, to maliciously use someone’s goodness and heart to manipulate their love, for his own comfort. Now I just shake my head and when people ask…I shrug my shoulders and I no longer have words for a situation that no longer exist for me. Everybody’s Somebody’s Fool…at some point.

I am good. No…I am better than good…and better still as days go by and I am ok in knowing I held up my side of the bargain from the very beginning. I have nothing to be sorry for and I have found closure on my own.

Not As Hard As I Thought It'd Be...

2009-06-20T16:03:00.013-04:00

I had a talk with my father a week before I left for California for the graduation. Told him that it was time and that I was ready. He supported my decision regardless of how he felt about the topic. He thinks that there is a “toxic and destructive” ring around my personal relationship. I did too but…he put it into words, whereas, I only had a feeling for the definition.

I went to California with little emotions and feelings. Other than being in the presence of my boys and the proud celebration of being there…I was less than mediocre as a companion. I was hoping that when he said he was going to catch an early flight back…that he would. As awkward as it would be to explain that…it was to be the best decision…had he done it.

As I sit here and am thinking about all the times I’ve took one step away…I think of all the times he has taken 3 toward me. I kept running into him and was never to be rid of him. To be completely honest…I love the man. Do still. But he was right, I don’t like him anymore. Is that possible? Well, it is for me. I cry almost every time we are together. I have been trying to maintain a friendship, no sex, no kissing, no touching…hoping we could move into that realm. ‘Cause overall, he is a good friend…to me…but a horrible person to be in love with. I remember him once asking me if I was able to have someone love me. I answered yes…and I meant it. But now as I sit here…the answer required more than just a yes or no.
So although we have spent every day together since we came back from California last week…I realize that we are both victims of circumstance. We would not be together if we were happy with our lives. Of course I speak for him…I know this. But I know him in some instances better than he knows himself. For instance I know…he is a liar. I know that his moral compass is far more skewed than anyone I have ever ever met. I know that he needs therapy because his path is destroying lives…yes, that’s plural.

Now I can go on telling you about the bullshit of dreams deferred and love lost and wrongs that were never …writed/righted…
But to be real…

None of this could have happened without my participation. I can and do take responsibility for the love, the stank and the demise of the relationship. It’s not like living and loving was new to me but it was never in this atmosphere and never totally amoral…I say that because I know my ass has been in many a relationship, for many a wrong reason…least of them being because I actually liked a muthafucka. But this shit right here was different.

I don’t think I could ever think of an instance where I didn’t like the sex…or complained about it not being good…and on occasion…better than better than good good. The things we’ve done in the places in the positions…yea, no one could ever say anything about us not being creative…but dick ain’t never made me stay in any relationship. Ever. My motto has always been that there was always bigger and better out there.
I say that to say…love is a muthafucka in and of itself that made me put Bloopty on hold. Literally, just put Bloop on hold and go on living life…as his life. Or as my father put it… “inconvenienced myself to make his life more convenient”….gee daddy, thanks for breaking it down and making me look stupid…lol
But isn’t that what love is at it’s basic…stupidity. Yea, I know…if Bloop was jaded before she met Dude…she’s about to be an asshole now that she’s done with Dude. Any man that encounters me from this point out is going to have it rough as a result of this situation..not fair but I come with some baggage that I can't just wont be able to shake soon. I shake my head at that because back to that question about… being able to have someone love me…
The answer is…not so sure anymore.
But then again…this move…
Well…I may be ok with living that single life again…
Multiple dates…men in every shade of the chocolate rainbow…and for once in my life...I may even try the shades in the vanilla rainbow too.
But for now…
I am single as a dolla bill…rolling solo bolo. Which is ok. It’s ok to take a moment and concentrate on me…without extra to take my focus somewhere else.
.
I ran…literally (because of circumstances) away from this relationship that has lasted 688 days. I didn’t end it pretty…was rather sloppy…and dangerous.
I was somewhere I probably shouldn't have been...and someone told me some things that I shouldn't have heard...but once they had, I couldn't just go on pretending like we had been...I HAD to find out for myself, I just needed to see “truth” for myself since lies were all I was told. I needed to see for myself how “bad” things were.
I found out that things were nothing like he said…that all was good… I didn’t end it pretty but it is the end. I knew once I walked through that door, we could never ever ever go back to the past. But I made a conscious decision and that decision was going to put a nail in the coffin, even if I wanted to go back, he'd not have me.
I walked into my present at 204 and by 4am I’d walked out of my past and into my future.

I have gotten support from everyone I have told…and the prevailing comment from most is that they are proud of me for doing what I did, although it was sort of Fatal Attraction-ish…a little blackout-crazy…but… Proud because I did something that was going to make me have to leave well enough alone with no regrets, something I should have left 10 months ago. Most had held their tongue but now that it was done…I heard all sorts of comments and all of them helped reinforce my unthinkable actions. The morning I made my move, it was all rather comedic...until certain little people had entered the picture...but grown facial expressions were classic. I know, I shouldn't be laughing but...it was such a horrible situation that it made it a dram-edy.

Slish asked… How does it feel to be free?

It’s sad, very sad...'cause love just doesn't go away but I feel better day by day…it’s only the nights when I am alone that I sit and think about what it was…what it could have been without the lies… doesn't help that I have a ridiculous amount of pictures of him and I, or him and the boys...
...but then reality creeps up on me… and it's clear as day that...
It was never going to be anything more than what it was…some bullshit that didn’t require my presence. Let the next chick deal with that shit. I know I deserve better…even alone…I deserve better from myself!

I hope Dude and his entire family lots of luck and love. I am completely and without a doubt unable and unwilling to go back to Dude. He will never have to worry about me again for the rest of his life. There is a thin line between love and hate but… I saw what I needed to see and now…I wipe my hands and in time my memory of everything.
I can truely say, at this moment, that he was my greatest love ever...but now he is a non-issue…and soon, non-existent to me.

I needed to get out of VA so I packed my bag and for now I'm back in my beloved Apple. I looked into flights to Jamaica...just me...just to...exhale so to speak.

Our last outting... outdoor movies at National Harbor...

Casablanca

Grad Weekend in California

2009-06-15T12:26:00.000-04:00

I took Dude out to Ocean Beach in San Francisco so he could "touch" the Pacific Ocean. I thought that was rather ironic...my father has touched every Ocean/Sea on this earth... They are both Aries. I guess that is their "thing"...touching wet stuff...lol
Below, the waves hitting the rocks...

East Oaklands finest...lol Some of my family, Dude and I went to a free concert in the park... Headliner...Lenny Williams. My uncle met up with him a few years back and wrote an article on him. So before the concert started he walked Dude and I over to meet him. Below is him singing...
I I I I luuuuuv you....

I realized that I had more pics with ppl in them...this is about all I have without a face...lol So, that is it of my photoblog.

Proudest Day: Oldest Graduation

2009-06-13T20:19:00.001-04:00

Happy To Be Back Home

2009-06-11T01:18:00.009-04:00

I flew in tonight amidst a lightening storm that had us sitting on the tarmac for at least 45 minutes. I sat there and felt nothing other than dread. Dread at having to return to a place that has shown me more heartache and pain in the 10 months I have been here than in the 30 plus years I have lived on this earth.

Everytime I have been away… I have yearned for my bed, in my city. Flying into Oakland International Airport…as the plane makes it’s way from the south so I end up flying over the backyards that house huge blue swimming pools in Palo Alto on up to San Leandro…I start thinking of who I am going to call the moment we set down. Thinking of who I am going to hook up with…so I can tell all about my trip…so we can share a drink or two with some laughs.

Same goes for flying into JFK…viewing the city as it loops around Manhattan, up into Westchester then back again as it makes it’s decent over Rikers Island to hit the tarmac in Queens…
I am anticipating who I will be seeing or who I will be talking to. Wondering what is going on in Harlem that night or …just waiting to take my shower and lay in my own bed as the breeze filters through my window as I watch tv until I fall asleep with no thoughts of picking up my phone.

Trips to California, Florida, Boston, Denver, Puerto Rico and all in between…I was always excited to be back in my town and sleeping in my bed.

But not this trip. I didn’t want to be back here. Would have rather lived out of my suitcase for a month straight then return to my “home”. I felt only a slow seeping, inky and desolate feeling of loss and abandonment, longing and dreading, fear and shame

All this based off some dick. I actually moved here for some dick…that wasn’t mine and was never going to be mine. I masked it as me moving here for my Oldest to go to college. Wanting my plan for his life to be what he should want too. But somewhere in the back of my mind… I think I have been in denial…lying to myself. I fell in love. Deep love and knee deep in some sappy shit. So I moved. Granted, I have always said I might move down to Maryland but…out of nowhere…I was here. I got here and literally…my little bit of sanity was stripped right from under me.
I found out AFTER I moved here that he was married and living at home with 1 wife, 2 kids and 2 dogs. The me that I used to be…before love and whatnot…well that me would have said “fuck you” and kept it moving. But the thing about love…real love…it makes it hard to walk away from a situation that your mind hasn’t fully wrapped its head around and made sense of.
Me? You lied to ME? ME? I am the extra on the side, the jump-off, the side piece…ME?

So pride, love, longing, desperation had me staying in something that was never going to be a blessing. Had me making decisions based off of…bullshit. Had me drowning in self-pity. Had me depressed but not wanting to leave my situation because I needed him to love me the way I loved him and I needed him to want me. I mean, after all, I had endured so much emotionally, and spiritually…I should reap the benefits of him neeeeeeding me the way I felt I needed him. I required that he loose himself in me and by him doing that…I was justified in staying because…you see…he loved me too. Right?

So I moved to this place…endured some criminal shit, paid my dues and tried to stay on the straight and narrow even though…I was consciously staying in this relationship with this married man.
I lowered my standards and my beliefs and set aside what normally would have been deal-breakers… in self-denial at the conscious decision that I was literally breaking up someone’s home by my presence. I tried to justify it by saying the marriage was doomed long before I came into the picture. After all, he was leaving her, moving out...so he said. Tried to jump bad by saying if he didn’t respect the marriage why should I.
And yet…truth reared its head to me in the delirium of my mind and told me…
You have given up many a blessing in the past 2 years to a man that has no respect for you or his wife. You’ve given up on your morals and principles to be in the presence of a man who has nothing to lose. His gain is my demise.

So as I sat on the tarmac, in the lightening storm next to this man…I realized I wasn’t happy to be back home…and I contemplated my life…the here and now of what my life is and was… I realize that I have lost myself and not loved myself and I hurt myself to be in something that could never be a blessing… whether it be material, spiritual or emotional. I have gained nothing since I have moved here. But I have lost more than I can imagine. And because of this experience, I will never be who I was… good, bad or indifferent…I can never be the same.

I am In The Country, Fa Real

2009-05-18T15:12:00.008-04:00

I haven't posted anything because...no lie...my memory is literally disappearing before my...synapes...eyes?

I am going to try and tell you about one of my outtings without Dude...by moi self...

I went out to Jaspers in Largo...or Landover...or where-the-hell-ever I was. It was a very hot and muggy day. You see, it's been raining here...real pretty and sun shiny then all the sudden we get a black cloud and it just pours...adding to the humidity already in the air...
Days like this, I feel sticky...and not the good sticky way...but in the UGH! I just want to take shower-after-shower way.

I walked in with intention. Wearing my bright ass yellow v-neck tee and some jeans that I am sure showed all of my muffin. I don't care because I feel pretty today. Why I am not sure.
I looked like California just walked in the door. Definitely tell I ain't from these here parts...but then again, I am told that all the time and I have yet to really grasp it. Although, I looked like sunshine this day...with my highlighted hair streaked with blonde and my yellow shirt and my danity necklace with the cursive "love"...
I felt like all eyes were on me. Why? Not sure.
It's not like I was sexy...there were other big ol' tittie broads up in here, other lite-skinned chicks, other women with long hair...nothing different about me...except they...
...well they didn't have my theme music on repeat in their head...

I went up there to sit and wait for Dude to meet me...at some point...when he decides he wanted to be seen.

I saddle up on a bar-stool and of course...it's 4:45 and not much is there but men...some young, some old...some in suits and others in baggy jeans and t-shirts...I didn't see anyone that caught my eye, although, it wasn't my intent to...be having my eye caught.
I sat at the back of the bar...you can see me when you walk in but I am far enough away that if you come over my way, it's obvious what your coming for...
My look was...don't come lookin'.

I have a group of 5 men to my left and two dudes to my right...I ordered my tall glass of Yunegling and then a chicken ceasar hold the egg. I watched CNN report about the potency of the "new" weed. I waited on the Celtics/Orlando game to start, waited on that text from Dude and waited on my salad to show up...all this waiting and one tall glass of cold beer.
I look good at this.
...but I also look desperate...
...then again, desperate comes off as available and available comes off as a possibility...and at the end of the day...thats all a man wants to know is that his game is still intact and hopes that he can still catch a fly ass MILF like myself... that it's still...possible...
So, back to...I look good at this.

This guy...well I am going to call him Lightweight...well he was real sweet in the mouth and sort of had a lisp to make it worse, talked aboout living up north...way up north. I observed that he dated Becky's...had nothing but glowing recommendations and reviews abotu the in's and out's of being with a Becky.
Now you see, Becky ain't never done me no worng. Becky pays, Becky has the car and Becky usually has all the liquor...all the Becky's in my life have been good to me too. Just like Lightweight.
BUT in his enthusiasm he forgets that...I ain't Becky. So talking to me about what black women aren't and all the things that white women are...well, I slowly turned my back to him and proceeded to...wait.
I had no more conversation for Lightweight.

Next up to bat is an older fairly decent looking guy who happens to be...drunk. I have sat and watched him and his friends drink shot after shot. I mean back to back...and it doesn't help his breath, that they had all ordered a pound of smoked shrimp...liquor, cigarettes and shrimp... I literally had to keep turning my head the other direction just to get some fresh air. He and his crew made me laugh. Belly laughs between sips of beer and quick peeks of the game.

And last...the Indris Elba look-alike with his dark suit and blue dress shirt, he'd taken off his tie and rolled it up to put in his suit pocket, as he turned while reaching for his pocket...his eye caught mine. He didn't sit at the bar, he stood and talked to a few other men while holding a Blue Moon...I don't like for a man to drink a beer with a garnish. It's like a man with a apple martini in his hand...thats "gay". Ask the bartendar to put that in a fucking chaser glass YO. So, he already had a "strike" against him...I didn't even want to give him anymore eye contact...
He sauntered over and proceeded with the same words I have heard a million times...I gave him what little attention I could in between sips of beer and eyeballing the game...a cursory side smile or a half hearted smirk to let him know the attention was appreciated but not warranted and not reciprocated.

I got that text from Dude...and over some stupid shit, we argue...through words...on the keyboards of a cellphone... he'd rather communicate like that...than pick up the phone and call me. Ni99as! His phone etiquette is going to be the death of us.

So, it's decided I am headed home and he's headed...somewhere else. I've sat up at this bar for 2 and a half hours...if I didn't need the breather from my own place I'dda been mad I sat up here and drank two tall beers and smelled these mofo's bad breath.
But I feel pretty...or good...or feeling like these men do...seeing possibility.
As I am making my way out...paying bill, collecting my purse, making sure my shit is in place, so when I walk out...I can feel that look burning on the sway of my no-ass having walk...
...but before that...the Indris look-alike had previous asked if he could sit next to me...I mention my wait on Dude, tell him he can't sit. So as I am leaving...Dude-less...he springs on the oppurtunity to ask me for my number...

Him say: Sweetheart, we've been having good conversation...can I get your number so we can continue this another time?

Me say: No

He say: Ok, well...can I give you mine.

Me say: No

He looked at me with that sideways glance...all perplexed and shit

He say: Seriously?!!

I told him to have a good night and walked out...into a down pour...
Literally....and figuratively.

I will say this about possibilities...and liking those possibilities...
If I hear the music, I'm gonna dance.
You'll get that later.

Wisdom: Character is revealed in moments.

New Name

2009-05-07T05:28:00.003-04:00

Email me....if you want my new addy. If you want the new me. No questions asked please, just let me know, you want it.

I am tired of exposing myself...

I remember when I first asked you all
What do you think of me letting my "other" read me...

One comment stood out...
Don wrote...

"Don't. Personally, I think men find ways to use a woman's inner feelings against them. One day, he will. But don't take my advice."

Again, email, voicemail, text, where I go and where I be....I am tired of HavinG to expose myself and still not "getting" him.
I thought we were on level ground...but I realized, he has a lot more of me than I have of him...and he checks on me a lot more than he says...
I know there is love...but it's not healthy for either of us. Either of us. Left to me, I'd stay unhealthy. I am my own worse enemy, hurting myself to please...someone else.

Do Not think I am a victim, I have done my share to make shit bad, then, shit worse...despite where it comes from or why...I hurt... as much as, I hurt.

AJ I need you....not to tell me what to do...but just to give me some abstract/vague guidance...means a lot to me. Even when I don't tell you the story, you know it.

*A good life doesn't mean an easy life*

That Night

2009-05-06T23:05:00.002-04:00

*Words of wisdon:
Do not fight a battle if there is nothing to win.

New Portion 1:1

2009-05-02T13:26:00.003-04:00

"It takes less time to do something right than to explain why you did it wrong."

Get Up

2009-04-29T00:06:00.001-04:00

"Our greatest glory is not in never falling but in rising every time we fall."

If you can...

2009-04-27T12:07:00.004-04:00

"Stop making people a priority in your life who make you a option in theirs."

Whatever You Say

2009-04-04T08:13:00.004-04:00

I think that I have been in a totally different mindset since we had a talk…since I found out that he has “just friends”…and he is actually on a dating site…looking for…dates. He tried to hold onto what was left of a lie…tried to give me a plausible excuse as to why he was on the dating site… “he was looking to see if I was”.
Even I was disappointed with the ignorance of that excuse.
But then again, I am finding that I am disappointed 8 out of 10 times with this particular man. You’d think that he couldn’t disappoint me anymore than he already has.
I think…he comes up with ways to disappoint me…disappoint the love I thought I had for this person.
I am starting to wonder why I love him.
It’s getting harder and harder to come up with reasons that aren’t over shadowed by the reasons he gives me not to be.

I’ve sat back and thought about…
…why doesn’t he want my love anymore.
Not that I see all these things wrong with me…I am damn near perfect. Take away him making me insecure, jealous, and untrusting…which lead to my low self-esteem and depression…

Fading

2009-04-02T00:25:00.013-04:00

My heart beats entirely too fast and I start to…fade. Not a total black out but…it’s closer then when I used to have anxiety attacks. But this isn’t that.
This is something entirely different.

I think that I am more insane than I first thought.
You laugh at that…but, truth be known…I’ve always thought that I may be a tad bit off…not quiiiite…right. Not in a short school bus type of way but in a homicidal maniac kind of way.
I feel like…

Well, I sat there and listened. Took in all that was said. Asked some questions when I felt like my intelligence was being challenge or questioned.
I sat there...but in a detached way that made me feel like I was a force within the room but...not really there. Just a shell of a body going thru the motions as I hovered on the periphreal.
Moving...or floating...or just existing in the room...
And still, I remained in that moment…suspended in an ever revolving prism of…blah blah blah.

I felt my conscious mind start to fade.
And…I wanted to inflict harm.
And I realized I was making a conscious effort not to find a bat and smash it into the mouth of the person that was lying to me.
But, those thoughts…
…were before I started to fade.

And like a drowning person at the last minute fighting for life…for air… finds themselves taking in more and more water at the same time
...sort of sealing their fate in their hysteria…
I fought back the darkness that was trying to engulf me.

So…a small thread held me suspended between sane and insane.
…a very infinitesimal strand of thread…

And here I was, thinking all this time, that I didn't totally lack reason, that I was relatively competent... far above inflicting pain and not only pain but…vicious and lasting pain. Hospital type of pain. The type of pain that could even possibly…lead to a grave.
And it was there, in that space, that I realized…I was ok with the consequences of hurting someone.
People like that scare me… I have become that which scares me…

I am more insane than I thought.
Or…as a thought…am I slowly being driven to insanity?? Because surely…the truly insane think they are sane.
Would I be questioning it, if it were so?

Dude and I are headed to Philly tomorrow.
A “get away” if you will…
And yet… I believe it is a “get away” from each other that we need.
I hope this overnighter does not turn into us…entertaining my newfound insanity.

I am living a life that is not my own and I am actually sitting back and letting myself become the puppet. I see it but oddly, I. can. not. stop. it.

Another Sleepless...

2009-03-31T06:41:00.004-04:00

I haven't been asleep since yesterday afternoon around 4, a quick nap before I had to be up for dinner with my roomie at 7.

I got home from dinner at 10:30. Took a shower and put my jammies on...

I laid down last night around 11:45... hoping to snuggle down in my bed and enjoy a good nights sleep.

My eyes were tired...burning.

I was ready to rest them.

...but my mind was not ready for sleep.

One word kept repeating itself in my mind space...matter of fact, it was so loud that it echo'd as it bounced off my skull...

Liar.

Here it is...almost 7am and I haven't slept.

I am humiliated and disrespected. Yet, still expected to share the same space as the one that has humiliated me and disrespected me.

Ha!

2009-03-28T22:10:00.001-04:00

I've always liked this song...childish though it is...sometimes a song can say exactly how you feel...

Judging, Patterns & War

2009-03-23T10:04:00.010-04:00

It would be two nights in a row that I have not been able to get a good night sleep. Then some wonder why I am not at my best the following day. Making haphazard comments to a situation they created.

First night:
Would seem that Dude has taken something and made it into something else…quite huge in his minds eye. Problem is, he’s taken someone else’s shit and applied it to me…thinking his 2+2 has added up to 4…when in reality…one of the easiest equations has him coming up with an answer that is more like…4,987,642…basically the wrong answer. Convince him though I try…he seems to think he knows everything, years into something that started years before he was even thought of. I am not…or ever have been…harlemknights.

So, since I can’t convince him…he gets out his ice-pick and starts to gouge away at my integrity and my judgment…or wait… his wording, he…
“questions my judgments with how I choose my friends and my relationships”.

Yea, he stabs away like crows, picking the dead eye-balls of road-kill.

Well…since he wasn’t around during any of my relationships and consistently has questioned my friendships…he really doesn’t know what he is talking about and when I try to explain…he literally laughs in my face as if I have reason to lie…now. Which I don’t since everything has been laid on the table…I have no reason to make myself look better or worse. I have been an open book but…for some ass-backwards reason…he keeps wanting to add his own version of chapters into my life’s story.

So I start to think that he isn’t really talking about my past “ships”…he’s talking about my current relationship.
After all, he has the right to talk about that…he knows all about what is going on now with me to make a comment like that. He knows all the intimate details of this relationship…
…so maybe, he is questioning my judgment about, why I am with him.

He wouldn’t be far off in his questioning then…
You see, I have questioned this relationship and where it is and how solid it is, where it is going, where it can go, and whether his past behavior would resurface if we happened to go to the next level…like maybe moving in together. Almost two years into it and I still question those things and many more, which leads one to believe…he hasn’t made me feel to secure in this current relationship. Yet, he questions past relationships. Compares similarities in my character but fails to think about the similarities in his character along side past men I have dated. He doesn't look at what the whole picture could be...but picks apart pieces he likes to exploit to his advantage. All and all...he shouldn't compare any of it...he should focus on trying to make this relationship right...rather than focus on the past with me and other men. The past is the past for a reason...he obviously didn't read my Jan. 15th post...

A friend of his said that I should respect his situation and I almost stopped breathing at the stupidity and audacity of that comment…
Dude doesn’t even respect his own situation…so why the hell would I?
Fuck his situation is what I say. He chose it, not I. I chose him…based on a lie. So…to ask me to be understanding of a situation that is some bullshit…fuck that.
And yet, another friend of his told me that I could have what he has but not with who I am with. Coming from who it came from…seemed like some bullshit, considering I don’t care for that particular friend of Dude’s.
But in reality, his words were true.
The longer I am with him…the more it’s harder to stay in something that has more chances of horribly blowing up in my face, than coming out smelling like roses. It’s a struggle to be with a man you love, knowing that that man is always trying to justify all his wrongs with declarations that are practically impossible to follow thru on or complete. Which inevitably, has him coming out looking like a huge liar, even though I think I know what is going on.

But I chose him. And I choose him still.
And he…well he, sits back and tells me… that he questions my judgment.
*rolling my eyes at his fucking nerve*

So again, his comment about my judgment…well…he obviously meant him since he hasn’t been getting my past life right as of yet.

I wrote a post about 2 years back… in that post I said…
You can’t ask God for good when you consciously, consistently and routinely are doing bad. How does he reward you when you repeatedly slap him in the face?

I am lying in the bed I made.
Whether I lie down with fleas and get up with fleas…has yet to be seen.
But chances are…

Second night:
Have you ever run across someone that…
Would rather lie to you than tell you the truth and be in some discomfort for a moment?
Then they pass it off as “sparing your feelings”…
Label it as a “little white lie”…
Or maybe get defensive because they know that that one act is more self-serving and selfish than they would like to believe.

They have it all plotted out in their mind as to what they are going to do or say… so that you don’t know the conniving that went into a small unfortunate “story”…
But you do.
Because although it’s a different lie…oh, excuse me, story/explanation…you’ve seen the pattern before.

[A quilt-maker rarely changes up thier pattern once they have started thier work. They may change colors or prints but thier pattern stays the same distinct signature work; it is thier blue-print. You know thier work because you’ve seen it before. They stick to it, so that there is fluidity to thier design. And when they are done, they hand it over for you to wrap yourself in the warmth of the design they've created; the finished product./]

Well…
I know this particular pattern…have seen past designs…all different…but the same.

An hour before he left…I knew he wanted to go home which made me flash-back to 7 hours prior when he received a phone call… he told me what was said but waved it off as whatever…and not completing his sentence went onto another topic.
So as he was getting dressed, I laid there in the dark at 230 in the morning, wondering…all this could have been avoided. But rather, he played it out and then at the last minute…came up with a reason to go… when he already had a reason to go.
He just needed to let me know…he just needed to speak up. But rather than do that…he’d just lead me on.
He stays more nights than he doesn’t. Had he told me he was going, would have been fine (as I wasn’t feeling well in the tummy anyway)…yet, all warm and cozy in the bed spooning and sleeping at 230am, he jumps up and still…silently puts his shit on to leave, when I have to ask where the hell is he going. Even then he says, Well Bloop, I told you I had to get home….
No…...you didn’t.
You told someone else that; told yourself that…but never told me that, bastard.

So long after he left, I sat in my bed, tv on because... what women feels comfortable having her "man" walk out of the door at 230 in the morning, who sleeps well once that happens? And with that...I end up going back to the previous night when he told me...

He questions my judgment in choosing friendships and relationships because as he has read and reminds me…I have been here...left in the middle of the night...before.

So in reality (since he likes to throw it in my face)... he is just like the men in my past...leaving me at 230 in the morning. Yea, I guess he is right, I should question my judgment in choosing men...

At 530am, I finally laid down and went to sleep.

Here I am, two sleepless nights…and all because this man puts so much stress on my brain. Then laughs it off…
…like yesterday morning after questioning my judgment the night before…he says,
“I don’t see why you just didn’t lay down and go to sleep.” *he;chuckle chuckle*
I didn’t laugh with him…I silently called him a punk because with that comment…he makes me think…he planned it, made me feel 2 inches tall so that later he could come back and be the saviour to a situation that he created...it's called...drama.
I wanted to say…

“Maybe because…
Your need to have a semblance of control over my life has finally seeped over to now…needing to control my emotions and my thoughts, ass!”
I have unconsciously given him power over how I am going to act, feel and think... I have.

Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

...and yet...I stay.
Can’t sleep when my logical and illogical minds are at war…

I have got to get a fucking life. Got to get some fucking friends.
Or move my ass back to NYC and settle down and marry a nice Jewish man...either way…I’d be done with warring. Wouldn’t I?

Like Sam's song...but not...
A change has got to come!

**Slish asked me to write a post about dating. He tried to tell me I was a master at dating and that I knew how to get a man and keep a man...
I am a fraud. I thought I was something different, that I had paid attention and maybe knew a little something extra... Clearly, I am just the average chick that got caught up in some bullshit that turned me into ...ordinary and basic....and on occassion...pathetic.

If I Was Your Girlfriend...

2009-03-21T00:44:00.016-04:00

It didn’t hit me until I was channel surfing…landed and stayed on a sex-n-da-city episode where the red head’s mother had passed away and the short main character with the blonde hair showed up to her mothers funeral…because that’s what friends do in support of their friends.

It hit me that… I don’t have anyone that I can congregate with like that…to sit down and commune with, the way that girlfriends do. I don’t have anyone I can talk to. Very randomly I may get or send off a text with the whimsical and sarcastic comment or two about what is going on with us.
I think my last text was from Dallas who said,
“Damn Craig, what the fuck you doin’ up there?”…. it was in reference to me telling her about my added few pounds, in response to me calling her a biotch for her telling me she was weighing 135 and having a perky onion booty at the age of 44.
Right off the bat, I knew her reference to Friday...because I know that is her fav movie and she'll quote from it like it was her bible, we know eachother...and that's what friends are for... to remember the silly shit.

But you see…no moments of going to brunch, sitting and talking about everything under the sun. No girls-night-out. No wine fest on the floor of the livingroom in the midst of tears and laughter. Matter-of-fact, I don’t think there is one person that I can tell everything to comfortably. Now mind you, I still have my friends from back in Cal…but, 5 years removed and you start to lose that “connection” that you once had. I can still pick up the phone and call them and talk at anytime…but I don’t because…well, it’s not the same as having someone that knows what is going on now …experiences things with me…now. I miss them terribly.

My only true “girlfriend” is Dude and even then…everything I am doing and everything I am experiencing is with Dude. So…it’s not the same. Who do I talk to about Dude??
I know he wishes I had female friends…because he has talked so much about his past relationships, where he and his boys would meet up with her and her girls… (although, to me that sounds very single in a detached relationship type of way, go figure)
I say that…but I also believe that somewhere in the back of Dude’s mind… in his insecure and narcissistic way…he likes that he is the center of my attention and center of my universe (my universe being the DC metro area) I suppose any man would like that in theory. I believe it is a catch-22 for him, as well, as it is for me.

The only “friend” I have here, in the area, is Cortney…and even with that…it’s hard to maintain a friendship with a man, in the midst of a relationship with another man. Cortney and Dude have been around each other a few times…5, I think… so Dude knows that Cort is just my friend. But I know that Cortney and I can laugh and be silly…and Dude, sometimes, just doesn’t understand how I can have fun with another man that is not him, without it being more than just friendship. Which silently speaks volumes about how he views his female friends. He wants what Cortney and I have. And he does have it…and more! Whereas, I don’t have what he and his friends have. Not his male friends or his female friends (that he says he doesn’t talk to…but he does)…
I just ask that he be true to our friendship and our relationship…and to me.
Which, he can’t even do.
But yet, here he is…Dude is my best “girlfriend”.

I definitely need to acquire some girlfriends to talk to, laugh with, cry on, hang out with… So dude can go back to being my man.
My man shouldn’t be my girlfriend…Altho, let Prince tell it…he should be.

~~~~
If I was your girlfriend
Would u remember 2 tell me all the things u forgot
When I was your man?
Hey, when I was your man

If I was your best friend
Would u let me take care of u and do all the things
That only a best friend can
Only best friends can

If I was your girlfriend
Would u let me dress u
I mean, help u pick out your clothes
Before we go out
Not that youre helpless
But sometimes, sometimes
Those are the things that bein in loves about

If I was your one and only friend
Would u run 2 me if somebody hurt u
Even if that somebody was me?
Sometimes I trip on how happy we could be

Boogie Oogie Oogie

2009-03-19T14:27:00.004-04:00

I Love the Nightlife

Ooooh I, I love the nightlife
I got to boogie
On the disco 'round, oh yea
Oh, I love the night life
I got to boogie on the disco 'round, oh yea

Please don't talk about love tonight
Please don't talk about sweet love
Please don't talk about being true
And all the trouble we've been through
Ah, please don't talk about all of the plans
We had for fixin' this broken romance
I want to go where the people dance
I want some actionI want to live
Action, I got so much to give
I want to give itI want to get some too

Ooooh I, I love the nightlifeI got to boogie
On the disco 'round, oh yea
Oh, I love the night lifeI got to boogie on the disco 'round, oh yea

Please don't talk about love tonight
Your sweet talking won't make it right
Love and lies just bring me down
When you've got women all over town
You can love them all and when you're through
Maybe that'll make, huh, a man out of you
I got to go where the people danceI want some action
I want to live

Action
I got so much to giveI want to give it
I want to get some tooOh I, I love the nightlifeI got to boogie
On the disco 'round, oh yea
Oh, I love the night life
I got to boogie on the disco 'round, oh yea

Ummm, In Da Bum-Bum...

2009-03-18T23:19:00.006-04:00

So it turns out I am the freak nasty when drunk…lol
Who knew?! I mean, I am drunk which means my memory is all sketchy and whatnot when I am inebriated…so…I didn’t really think it was me that was the one that was, or might have precipitated some…ummm-you-in-my-bumm? …

Ummm, freak nasty is me.

So, I am about to go T.M.I…
I mean more than normal. No comment needed…I am just trying to figure this shit out.

…aaaaand…START!

Bum-bum plug.
Got one.
Walked into a local sex shop that was RIGHT on front street…during rush hour traffic. No hiding while making my way inside…so fuck it, head held high and with a little swagger but not enough to be considered cheap…I walked right up to the door and walked right in like… it was a 7-11...or a Safeway.
Normally all that is not needed ‘cause ain’t no shame in my sex game…but here I am in Virginia…and the front door facing Hwy 1 and again, it’s rush hour…
…I walk in and 10 white men…no, no, no…10 very white men in trucker hats, wrangler jeans and cowboy boots look up as I walk in…
Intimidated am I.
See, in NYC, in the village…I am usually walking into the sex shop and seeing lezzies, bois, or couples…never JUST white cowboys. Me not being white…or a man…or a dyke…
…but being a soft-little-bundle-of-finger-licking-golden-goodness…
Got all girly, shy and shit.
I ain’t never been shy about my sex shit YO!

So I slink…
Slink around looking for a bum-bum plug.
I knew what I wanted…
Knew what I was looking for…
Knew I was buying that shit TO-day!
And more than likely…using it TO-day!

But I still slinked in…walked along one side of the store…and avoided eye contact…as much as possible. In this overly fluorescent lit sex shop. Virginia is wack…make you feel all shameful for wanting (read: needing) some autonomous sex! Bastards!

Back to the plug and how I have been needing it…needing it baaaad.
I got it.
…and another something else that-is-not-important-to-this-story-even-though-it-is-also-a-purchase-from-this-sex-shop…

Back story on the need for pleasure in the danger zone…
I don’t think I can feel dick like I used to feel dick. And I don’t feel like it matters how many times a day I exercise with the Kegel’s… I just don’t feel it like I used to. Now when I say “feel it”…I am not referring to a penis. You see, every now and then (now more than then)…I have been …umm…self pleasuring. But not really just “self”, considering I need other devices…
I am referring to...
It's a clenching thing.
And then it's a stretching thing.
Or it might be the added little "stress" to an area I need.
Like needing my hair pulled.
Or my ass slapped.
Or...well hopefully you get it.
...devices ‘cause... my arm gets too tired with all that hand-arm motion. Seriously…I can’t understand how y’all men don’t end up with either tendonitis in the wrist or “tennis” elbow from all that vigorous waxing of the monkey (is it called waxing the monkey?)…choking the chicken… masturbating! Y’all go at it much stronger than women do…and it’s crazy that I don’t see more men with thier arm in slings.

Ummm, START….again!

So I may or may not pleasure myself and I may or may not feel the need to see if there are other areas of my luscious body that might like to be pleasured…
(…if I am or am not self pleasuring…)

I came…(or is that cummed)…and can I say…that cumming is mo’ betta when you discover that there is another reason to praise all that god has made me to feel…and made me to be. Just sayin’… instead of being prudish all these years…I should have went and made this purchase at least 9 years ago…
But I guess there is a time and place for everything.

Am I ready for male anatomy?
If I am drunk? Definitely
If I am sober? Get that shit away from me.
My plug is less than 4 inches long and 1 ½ inches in width…
So if penis is bigger than a magic marker…I don’t want it in my ass…
And if it’s smaller than a magic marker…I don’t want it in my slippery goodness...up front.
Thankfully Dude is bigger…but unfortunately not smaller…which in and of itself is better overall…
I can be satisfied with my purchase, with this recent curiosity and also be very satisfied with the real deal that Dude blesses me with.

Altho, I can't overuse the bum-bum toy...I heard your ass gets lax and it all just... falls out... Am I too old to believe that? I think I may have to do some research on anal... right now!

Sidenote: Hehehe…that first paragraph said a lot that didn’t really coincide with the rest of my story…but fuck it.
Also, I really hope my reading audience (what's left) isn't coming over here to get any real substantial world current events...it's just me and my meanderings...which as far as I am concerned...is some substantial current events...LOL

Madness & The Way It Goes

2009-03-11T13:09:00.009-04:00

Now I don’t normally critique Madness (read: porn)…matter of fact, other than the Madness I was watching where the woman had some ghetto tattoos around the areola of her nipples…Madness is ok with me.
However, this afternoon I was sitting and watching some Madness on the laptop while also watching King of Queens on tv… I ran across a video of a black man with a big ass thingy…and he was getting some head from an older white lady…older meaning 40 something…
Anyway…in the midst of getting his thingy slobbered down…he starts to talk to her…about…
Sucking his ni99er cock.

THE HELL???!!

He kept asking her to tell him she liked sucking his ni99ER cock. For the longest time she just kept saying what he wanted except the part about “ni99er”. I was just sitting there irritated but still…I watched. I was waiting for her to say it though. LOL
I mean, I sort of was like…she bet’ NOT say it.
She did.
Then after a while she was just saying it on her own without him asking… “I want this ni99er dick in my white puzzy.” Then she switched up by saying…“you like this white puzzy?”
I was too done!! Mad? No. Just incredulous
Budda…it REALLY was a big ass ni99a dick…so…I didn’t stop the video…I just turned off the volume. *smh*
Towards the end I turned the volume back on and I caught him in the middle of saying…he likes her old ass puzzy.
Madness is crazy!!! I need to stop watching it, my brain is going to mush.

With that said…I didn’t make it through Lent; no red meat and no alcohol and no cussing.
I swear to myself that I will make it up to myself. I am ashamed that I couldn’t sacrifice a “want” for 40 days.

Last night while sitting on the couch, eating a slim jim and drinking champagne out of the bottle as I watched Madagascar 2 at 2am…I realized that me going back to work…is going to be hard as hell. I very well might need to find me a side piece to make up for the loss of dividends, should I not get a job soon. Just a thought.

I was drinking champagne straight from the head because…as we all know…being in something with some one isn’t always warm and fuzzy.
If you bring something up…be prepared to talk it through to completion. Don’t pick an argument with me and then want to deflect when your own shit is brought to light. With that, I still walked away knowing I didn’t get my answer verbally from his lips…but I did get my answer by his effort at trying to avoid the question. I know when a question hasn’t been answered regardless how long you postulate about me. All that hot air and you think I was fooled into believing I had:
1. forgot the original question or
2. thought you had answered the question somewhere in that long-winded vague bullshit or
3. get so defensive about what he's saying regarding me that I am either guilty enough to drop the topic or guitly enough to try to explain some made-up point.
C’mon Dude, have more faith in my intelligence.
I finally had to stop him and say… “Ok, I hear what you are saying but obviously you forgot what I asked because you have yet to answer a yes or no question.”
He got mad and pouty and said he answered and I just don’t listen to him. Of course, I had to bullet point everything he said…then asked him where in all that bullshit did he answer my question.
To which he proceeds to ask me, why does everything he say have to be bullshit?…
Which once again starts to take the focus off the main question and has him thinking once again that I will get caught up in this sidebar conversation and forget that ONCE AGAIN…he hasn’t answer my original question yet.

Thing is…I have been in this same situation with every man that I have dealt with. In the back of my mind I am mentally just shaking my head and thinking…here we go again and I am going to have to walk him through this like a mother would a child. And as in those cases…that is crazy because this man is older than me!

He knows that I know. He does give me credit for being intelligent enough to know when shit is being avoided. His trick (he thinks) is to get me either tired, exasperated, upset or mad enough that I will just say fuck it…and drop the whole thing. Although, he is getting to know me well enough that IF that happens…it’s not forgotten and will come back up a couple more times…just because he avoided it the first time. In which case…I know that I have given him sufficient time to come up with a suitable answer. So he’s not fooling anyone…
Goes back to, he already answered the question with his refusal to answer it. He hasn’t gotten that part yet. So, regardless what reasonable answer he comes up with later…I’ll always go back to his non-verbal answer he first gave.

Complicated? I’d say yes but because I have dealt with it before…and more pointedly…dealt with him and know how he is…I get it and I see why he does the things he does. Do I agree? No. But I at least understand it enough not to take a fork to his jugular

Because I am irritated and still slightly mad… needing a high and to laugh and I being slightly hungry…
It’s champagne and slim jim’s at 2 in the morning…laughing my ass off at the lemurs and the penguins… “I like my nuts served on a silver platter!”

*SIDENOTE: Do all my post have mention of alcohol in them? Don’t answer. Was just another…thought.

100th Post: Valued

2009-03-05T02:14:00.009-05:00

Knowing the difference between being romantic and being…corny…basic…and expected.
I am way bad at deciphering.

Case in point…
I like tulips. Love them matter of fact. Everyone that knows me, knows this…I make sure that they do. So come Valentine’s time I was thinking that I was going to be getting a bouquet of colorful tulips. I knew that I was going to be back in NYC for Valentine’s Day so I wasn’t expecting a delivery but...I was expecting something…
Come the Tuesday before Valentine’s Day Dude comes knocking on my door… I think I was mad at him for this or that, so I didn’t actually open the door for him, I just unlocked it…then walked back downstairs. When I came back into the living room…sitting on my floor was this huge red glass bowl filled with what looked like…stems and leaves and a lot of dirt…no flowers…
Hunh???
I say, What’s that?
He say, Those are your Valentine’s Day flowers.
I am thinking, the hell?!! No blooms, petals…nothing.
I say, What are those, tulips?
He say, Yes. I thought to buy you your own little garden of tulips. Thought that was better than just buying you a bouquet that would die in a couple of days. You keep these and they will bloom over and over, year after year. Then he proceeds to give me a big ol’ school boy smile.
I didn’t smile.
I say, Ok, thanks.
Then I proceed to walk out of the door, since we were on our way out.
That was it…my only thanks, my only comment about his gift of flowers. I thought it was a cheap ass gift. No lie.

I thought about that later as the flowers started to bloom…by the time I came back from NYC…I had a dozen fully bloomed yellow tulips. By myself, I just stood in the middle of my living room, looking at my own little garden and I got way too emotional.

I thought what a bitch I had been…and how I have lost sight of the little things because of the past relationships I expected the big things.
It hurt me…that I had been so ungrateful.

It’s those things that make me wonder…

Yesterday I felt yucky and in pain. I think I have fibroids…well, doc says I might, but she’s a quack [read: standard line when I don’t agree]
The night before, Dude and I had christened my new dining table amidst fishnets, panty ruffles, long strands of pearls, bondage rope and champagne…thus, aggravating my uterus. So yesterday we’re lying down across the couch and watching the last day of, 30 Days of Oscars on AMC.
Out of no where, dude got up to go to the bathroom, I lay back down and dosed off since he was in there for so long.
Then I heard the water running and figured he was about to take a shower. Twenty minutes later he comes into the living room butt-naked and wakes me up, took both my hands as he leads me into the bathroom… he had all the lights off and it was dark as hell at 2 o'clock on a Tuesday afternoon…the only light was from 3 candles flickering, as he proceeds to undress me piece by piece, then we both stepped into the bubble bath he had prepared for us, we lay back and relaxed in the hot water. My back to his chest…he put his arms around me and starts to massage my lower stomach and doesn’t say a word. He then massages my shoulders and gives me lite kisses on my temples as he then slowly traced circles of bubbles around my nipples. I felt him growing against my back…but at no time did he make me feel like what he was doing, was meant to lead to that. He started to lightly hum a song, in between whispered words of love in my ear.

This was clearly not like the times he has offered to wash my hair, when we ended up in the shower with my foot positioned on the soap dish for support/leverage and me bent over with my forehead touching the edge of the tub as water cascades over our joined bodies...

After an hour in the tub, he helps me out of the tub, then he dries me from head to toe and leads me to the bedroom where he massages me down with baby oil and then we both drifted off to sleep, no cuddling, no invasion of my side of the bed…just our legs intertwined....at 3 in the afternoon.
As he was leaving later that evening, he asked if I felt better. I said yes. He smiled and planted a kiss on my forehead and told me that he felt bad, that I felt bad and that he just wanted to relieve me of some of the pain with the hot water and massage.

When I was laying on my couch as he was in the bathroom…thinking he was about to take a shower and head home…I was in pain, feeling tired and maybe even feeling like it would be nice to be in my place by myself…

He was thinking of how he could relieve my pain. Him: sweet and romantic… Me: selfish and wanting to be left alone

Later….I was so grateful and in awe that this man...cares.

You see, I (as most women) am used to getting compliments, used to men doing things for me, used to hearing all the flowery words that as a school girl made me shy…but being a woman full grown has somehow slipped into recognizing the wordplay for the dance that it is and not for the meaning of the words. I’m jaded. I’m recycled goods. I realize that those things and those words are just a part of the ingredients to a well prepared meal…me. I no longer blush at a mans flirt, I no longer say thank you every time that someone tells me I am beautiful, I no longer am surprised by gifts or money…

Yet, with Dude…
I have learned not to expect it. When I was living in NYC…he didn’t do certain things. I did. But…that too was apart of my “dance”. I got accustomed to him not doing things. I always counted myself as a non-romantic…and added him to that as well.
I have lived in the DC area for 6 months now…I am sometimes surprised that we are still “together’. I thought once I moved here that he would slyly make his exit. To the contrary. I am recognizing that he does a lot of small things that have more meaning than all the gifts that I have received from other men. Not only does he do small things…with meaning and love…he also says some things that have more value than money…

He has slowly stepped up to the mic…
…and proceeded to let me know…
He’s not going.

Nothing but Nipples and 1-Stop Shopping

2009-02-27T03:13:00.007-05:00

I was offended. Almost hurt. I mean I thought that’s what a man would want… Well, truth be told it’s not like I fashioned myself after that thought…it is what it is. I am who I am.

He say, Maybe you should go see a therapist about that.
*I just looked at him like what in the world are you talking about old man!*
I say, Maybe you need to start taking more vitamin E and maybe some B12… that would help the sperm count and the energy level.
*It was his turn to look at me crazy.*
He say, You do realize how much we have sex…and how much you want to have more, don’t you?
I shrugged my shoulders and kind of just blew it off… after all, ummm, I ain’t never had a man complain about my sex. And truth be told, I know that’s what got him with his nose in my ass. But his “complaining” and lack of enthusiasm has me concerned.
Could he be tired of this particular sunshine…of my sweet googly goo…
Pshaw I say… that’s not possible.
Or is it...?

My breasts have been hurting for 3 months now. When I touch them (not like kneading…but if I just put a finger on one) it hurts like hell. My bra hurts them and my nipples are tingling like when I was breast feeding…despite what men may read and what visions may be running thru their heads right now…it’s irritating and painful. The only thing that makes them feel good is to have the sucked on. Which has me walking up to Dude and plopping a tittie in his mouth whenever we are in a private setting.

I can see why he complains so much...him being a Lakers fan, guess it can be bothersome when watching a game and I am constantly in his face with all my luscious softness and him having to suck on my nipples. But they huuuurrrrttt!!!! He should want to relieve some of my discomfort!

Mood swings, change in sex drive, change in body temperature...aren't these signs of menopause? My ob-gyn doesn't think it's menopause but...she's a quack!

She prescribed Evening Primrose Oil for my breast tenderness. When I went into the health food store I was really looking for oil...you know, to rub on my jiggly jubblies. Ha, come to find out that they are these big horse pills...apparently the oil is inside the gell encasing. I don't know what the pills are that are for prescribed hormonal changes... but I'd rather stick to my evening primrose oil for my ~~self diagnosis of menopause~~ hormal imbalances for now. My headlights aren't as sore as they have been since I have been taking them. The oil also helps with alcoholism...helps with the withdrawl process...hmmm, y'all know I am an alcoholic right...no, fa real! This stuff helps all the way around it would seem, since it helps with attention deficit disorder as well.

While I was there I also picked up some E vitamins and some B12 for Dude...might as well knock out everything with one-stop shopping.

Requiem: Control

2009-02-24T03:34:00.006-05:00

I love you more than I could ever love anyone.
Believe me, this is much more than a woman’s love for a man.
It’s almost more than a miracle.
It’s what God meant for woman to feel for her man; to experience.

I have the desire that exceeds anything that I could ever have for anyone in this life or the next.
I feel as if I can’t breath without you in me…around me and I feel as if I couldn’t even survive…to live, unless you were

apart of me
Which is what you have become.
I need you….to live.
I think of you and all that the stars and gods desire for us when they made emotion…the feeling, love and passion…love and sensuality…love and hot sexy….love and trust….loyalty and sanctity

I think of you

I long for you

I close my eyes and look for you

I send praises for the miracle of love

-A.

On God and Being a Slut

2009-02-19T23:25:00.006-05:00

"Is it possible that you lack the focus that drives you to the path God has created for you to uniquely walk? If you're going to create the life of your dreams, if you're going to discover the life God created you to live, you have to learn how to say no to all the other options.
And the tough choices aren't between good and evil, but between all the equally good options out there that are simply not the right paths for you.
You have to allow even beautiful dreams to die when they are not supposed to be yours.To make even one dream come to reality, many other dreams have to be sacrificed on the altar of your imagination."
~~~

So what if I am addicted to Velvet Moon. I feel like I am back in high school paying for Wild Irish Rose….because Velvet Moon Cabernet Sauvignon is only $5.99!!! I loves it and it doesn’t give me a headache. It is truly...velvety! I heart Trader Joes.

At 11 this afternoon, I dressed up like some moulin rouge dancehall hussy because I am trying to get my sex on for some afternoon delight…but…yea…well…3 hours later and only 10 minutes to waste…I changed back into my jeans and t-shirt…quick. But I did my make up like crazy, looking like a sexy goth-slut with deep red lipstick…so as I am about to leave for the grocery store…debating on whether I should take the make-up off or just…fuck it…
After all he has a black eye and I have excessive make-up…we look like Bonny and Clyde ghetto style. I may just keep this shit on to make shit look gritty and grimey.
Ok…well that’s not me…so I’mma take this shit off now. But I am wondering…why ISN’T this me??? Because this me…looks like a bad bad bad bitch!

So I let Dude become my friend on FBook. Now all sorts of random comments are being made. Not that I was looking for some action on FB but if I was, he sure is shutting my shit down. Do other “sig nif’s” cock-block like that? No? I know *huge sigh* I am trying to think why he finds the need to make it clear that he’s in my life… All y’all know. Still…smells like something else to me…
Insecurity maybe...
Now I am not the type…but I am tempted to go over to his page and leave some inappropriate shit… I mean, I know how to exert some alpha-female shit too…well not really but…I could try. Just sayin’…

New Me...??!!

2009-02-18T01:35:00.007-05:00

How far do you go to get what or who you want?
What do you put yourself through in order to keep what you want?

~~~
I've written this story before...wouldn't be surprised if exact words were used. However, I have had my gajillionth epiphany, this time with a tad bit more insight.

As many of you have read before, I am not a big believer in love, soul-mates or in monogamy. For some reason it just never seemed realistic to believe that one person was made for just one other person in this world. Or that anything last forever.

So my mind conjured up this thought process, which in turn, became my belief system that it was ok to have multiple people in your life. Nothing last forever and during your life time you will be attracted to many people…people that you can honestly say that you have loved in one way or another. At the same time, everything has a beginning and an ending. Thus, be happy playing the field and don’t feel bad when a relationship ends because it wasn’t meant to last anyway.

My self-defense mechanisms slowly start to come to life as it chugs along building momentum when I am in a relationship where I start to want just him. When thoughts of other men are long gone and my focus is on the one that is in front of me. That’s when you all will generally read stories of me falling into this euphoric state of almost love ...and then just as suddenly I am writing words of faults and wrongs done to me…sabotaging things as quickly as I enter into them…nothing ever lasting longer than 3 months.
I dazzled them into loving me. I did all the things that we do to get someone to want us. Made them feel a 100%, knowing that it wouldn’t last.
I would make sure it didn’t last.

I was scared. Scared of being vulnerable. Scared to imagine that someone wouldn't recognize the fragile-ness of my heart and cherish my love. Scared that I would be overlooked as just another chick. Which is hypocritical because I have walked away from every relationship I have been in...and without a second thought and with very little emotion. Yet, here I was believing that me walking away was in no way the same as someone walking away from me. Me walking away was equivolent to "it's all for the good" and severing ties before things got way to complicated.

Then again, I didn't care like I do now.

I am starting to realize that you can’t decide who you are going to fall for. I have foolishly said that it was possible…for years. However, I see that it’s not that easy. Love in general is not easy. All these years, I had thought it would be easy for me to walk away from anyone. I am realizing you can’t just decide today that you are done and be able to leave the same day. As a matter of fact, it was easier to leave my husband of 9 years then it has been in trying to extricate myself from my current situation. Which makes me wonder, maybe I am not the one that is supposed to walk away this time. Just maybe…no one is supposed to walk away this time. Maybe.

All I know, is that I am doing some things I have never done before and I have become this other person… sometimes I like the new me…and then there are times, such as Sunday night…that the new me scares me to death.

I know that I am going to beat myself up for my actions because there is no just saying… I am sorry. Although, oddly and miraculously...sadly, he loves me.

Bitch, Stripper Poles and Reed's with Ramen

2009-02-09T13:33:00.007-05:00

I have the tendency to call someone a bitch, with the quickness. Usually it’s not warranted but then again…name calling rarely is (said rarely, not never). So I yell my Bitch! in the quiet of my mind…just in case it is one of those moments where I…am in the wrong. Although, I am finding that that is rare also…in my mind.

For instance, while out this weekend... Everyone was ordering drinks and I simply asked for a water/no ice/with a lemon. The table looked at me and one lone wolf decided to broach the subject with, “B, you aren’t ordering a drink?”
I say, “Yes Bitch, I am drinking water…what I ordered!”
What I say out loud, “Yea, just water for me.”

I knew I would have been worng for the simple fact that...I do drink...a lot...often...almost always. He asking me the question was not out of line...I can almost positively say, this would have been one of those rare occassions that I might have been in the wrong had I responded with the Bitch comment...might have.

I’ve been getting announcements in my inbox about upcoming Learn to Strip for Your Man seminars…sessions. I really thought about it…really. Then I'd have to go all out and buy me one of those portable stripper poles that go in your bedroom...or living room...or kitchen (?)
But my lazy ass can not wrap my head around …sexy, right now.
I mean, this is me now…

Far cry from me…back then…

Speaking of …back then. Remember when I was having 3 hour lunches and eating at all the boutique-y restaurants in the big city? Here is a view of my lunch today…

*Huge Sigh*

I must admit, I have no groceries and was on my way to go when I remembered that I am waiting for some keys to be delivered from UPS…delivered hopefully by a fine brotha in one of those brown little short sets that UPS hands out to their drivers (yes dammit! I know it is only 50 degrees outside)

I bought a box of 24 ice cream sandwiches. I have been eating at least two sometimes three a day. Is that normal? I mean, I know if I was 7 it would be…but…aaa, I’m not. Add another 30 onto that. I was talking to her and mentioned my squishy in the middle…it’s even more squishier than ever before… I know it can’t look sexy, just can’t! But I just can not bring myself to sign up at a gym. I want to, really…but…there is something holding me… and those ice cream sandwiches be calling my name…all sexy like…oozing smooth vanilla squished between cake-like chocolate softness…
Y’all just don’t understand!

*ok, why did my hungry ass just bite into the paper wrapped ice cream sandwich… I swear after this box is gone…I refuse to buy another 24 ct box…I will go back to the 6 ct box…no matter how good of a deal the 24 ct is!!!*

Drinking Grapes and Eating Beans

2009-02-08T22:38:00.004-05:00

I went to bed late as it was… but then after a dream…
That was neither nightmarish or dreamy-like in nature…
Just was…a dream.
So…at around 3AM I woke up to a fast heart beat and a temperature that had risen from the elevated adrenaline during my sleep state.
I knew what the dream was about and at 3Am, I wasn’t trying to have those thoughts as I drifted back to sleep…so in order for me to get past this and not have it on my mind for the rest of the night…
I got up and took a sleeping pill. Normally within 30 minutes I am startng to nod off like a heroin addict...eyes at a slit and barely able to stand up ...but yet...do.
What possessed me to follow it with a glass of red wine is beyond me.
So I went Marilyn Monroe last night and was knocked out after I finished my glass of Velvet Moon (which is cheap as hell but yet full-bodied and smooth...all thanks to Traders at $5.99 a bottle.)

Friday night Dude and I went to Old Town Alexandria to a karaoke spot. On the way there I saw a church that I thought I might look into since I have yet to find a church home since I have moved to these here parts…
Come this morning, church started at 11… well, due to my non-attempt at a sleeping overdose…I woke up at 10:45… rolled over and answered the text that woke me up…then went back to sleep.

I think tonite…I may try the same concoction…just because I had a helluva good ass sleep last night. Just sayin…

Another night time faux pas...

Thursday evening I was laying on the couch and got the taste for something sweet to eat, I reached behind me and from my end table picked up my small bag of chocolate covered something-or-other... munched on them and munched on them and munched on them...not paying attention to the hour...but should have.

They were milk chocolate covered coffee beans...they wer so so yummy...but it was 11:30PM...so...safe to say, I understood why my silly ass was up until 3:30AM.

What have I been up to? Man oh MAN… nothing and something all at the same time. Nothing exciting …well…at least I don’t think so. I feel like my life is so glamour-less since I have left NYC. *Huge Sigh* Yes, I know…it’s all in the ‘tude…but lately…I ain’t even got an attitude to throw around.
With that said, I am fairly a happy little camper.
I am still going out and still having sex. Might have lost a few pounds…and then found them again. Spoken word, wine tasting, museums and live music…meeting new people and dining at embassies, my experience here is filled…but with nothing all that exciting.
Maybe I just need some warm weather and sundresses with matching strappy sandals to make me feel like…it’s exciting again.

We shall see…

What Matters

2009-01-15T00:56:00.002-05:00

There comes a point in your life when you realize:
Who matters,

Who never did,

Who won't anymore,

And who always will.

So, don't worry about people from your past,

there's a reason they didn't make it to your future.

A Few Words

2009-01-01T14:56:00.003-05:00

I just got up...
...only for a few minutes.
I have had my two excedrins with a bottle of gatorade.
I wish I'd get a call for brunch... but it's almost dinnertime I guess...
...but I am heading back to bed.
I'll eat another day...
but before I do...

Happy New Year!
May peace break into your house and may thieves come to steal your debts.
May love stick to your face like Vaseline and may laughter assault your lips!
May happiness slap you across the face and may your tears be that of joy.
May the problems you had in 2008 forget your home and your work address!

Here's hoping 2009 will be the best year of your life (so far...)!

With love,
Bloopty...Blah Blah Blah

Baby It's Cold Outside: First Snow

2008-12-29T11:41:00.007-05:00

First Snow
Serves one

Ingredients
½ oz. sweet or late-harvest muscat
¾ oz. premium vodka
½ oz. white cranberry juice
¼ oz. lime juice
3 oz. champagne
Cranberries, for garnish
Mint leaf, for garnish
Powdered sugar

1. Heat a small saucepan over medium-high heat.
2. Add muscat and reduce by half to create muscat syrup, then let the mixture cool to room temperature.
3. Mix together the syrup, vodka, and juices.
4. Shake vigorously in a martini shaker filled with ice.
5. Pour into a champagne flute and top with champagne. Garnish with cranberries and a mint leaf that has been dusted with powdered sugar.
6. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

B~E~Z

Tourette's of the Dick Syndrome

2008-12-27T00:02:00.001-05:00

It’s not like I didn’t know the answer before I asked…
But I needed to know from a man, what the eff a man was thinking when he did it.
So I asked Cortney…
And Cortney being all matter-of-fact and straight to the point responded with the most simplest answer…

Why does the dick jump?
Or rather why does the dick twitch?

What do you mean?

You know when you are spooning…her ass is against your dick…
And all the sudden…he makes his dick jump/twitch…against the ass, the leg, or her stomach when they are face to face…or as her hand rest against his thigh as they sit and watch tv…what the eff does it mean…or say…or convey…?

Well, umm…basically…he’s testing the waters. Seeing if you are responsive to his dick having Tourette’s...preferably inside a warm soft vagina, yours. If you back your ass up to his dick or grind it a little, then he knows that you are open to at the very least some grinding…and the most (which he’s hoping/wishing/praying for), some sex.

That’s pretty passive aggressive.

Well, it’s an effective way of sending out a signal and seeing if it’s reciprocated.

Problem is… I like the soft grind-age…I mean…there are men I like to be around, even flirt with…but I don’t necessarily want to have sex with them…so grind-age is good. However, most men don’t just end with grind-age unless ending means their penis in a vagina. So it’s sort of a misconception that dick twitching is for grinding.

Well, then at that point you let them know that you don’t want to have sex.

SEE! That right there is some bullshit! If all I have to do is speak on what I want…then why can’t he do that at the very beginning instead of having his dick jump up and down on my ass cheeks??!!
Can we have sex?
It’s a 50/50 chance…but he’d rather go thru the 20 minutes of spooning…the 15 minutes of jumping his dick…the 30 minutes of grinding and his dick getting harder…just to get… “I really don’t want to have sex.”
Just seems like he built his mind and his dick up…just to get the 50/50 he would have gotten had he asked for it an hour and 10 minutes ago.

...Just a thought...

Excuse Me Sir, Sex?

2008-12-14T22:45:00.006-05:00

You know I am full of epiphanies. Always coming to some realization about myself. Or rather, I know things about myself but I usually just skim over those but...tonight…I have had another… epiphinous review of my sexual character.

I am not all that good at sex…the act of sex…performance wise that is. Sex skills are not high in the A’s but maybe in the C’s…top C+, middle C, or bottom C-…I am not sure. But I do know that my love making ain’t no A.

See I have always been exceedingly sensual. I never really thought that of myself per se…but when you are told something enough times by people…er, men…then you tend to think as the status quo and not balk at others observations.
But,
I kind of cultivated that. Gave and pampered more than I actually felt…at the beginning…and usually if I knew that I was making an investment into my…umm, er…circumstance. Over indulged in making his body feel good…dreamy…lovely. It was a conscious effort so…it wasn’t truly sensual…but actually work…

Today as I was watching Madness (read: porn) during the football game and drinking Killian’s Red beer…I realized that all those moves and all that energy…I don’t do, don’t have. I am not going to say I just lay there and take the dick like a melting popsicle in my mouth…but I can say that I am not that far off. As much Madness as I watch…you’d think I would have picked something up. Well, I have but V. Del Rio is known for putting a “popsicle” in her mouth…and not for taking the “popsicle” in… or maybe she was but all that I have seen are her…awesome head sucking skills. That I learned…although…(5 months without and I may have forgotten. You know my memory sucks...also)

So although I know how to get a man…and even know how to keep a man… I lack in the sex area. I don’t fuck as much as I should, I don’t fuck as much as I’d like, and I don’t fuck as well as some would think. And because I don’t get involved as much as I portray to the men I get involved with…I end up getting bored and then…I leave.

I know…I have baggage. And not the carry-on type but the type that needs a cart and a bellboy.
Most have argued that I just haven’t found the man that is just for me…the one that I will want for mine and who I want to give everything to. Some say that it is not my time…and he will come along. But for now…
I just epiphonize on the fact that I’m a C when it comes to sex…and realize that my time is running out…so I need to start studying…
Too bad I am not in NYC…I’d be less afraid of contracting something….D/M/V has a horrible track record for casual sex…
I may have to get a man just to learn how to conjugate…or better yet, fuck.
Huh, odd that.

Lip Lovin'

2008-12-11T02:20:00.002-05:00

I am staring into windows as I sit at my desk…one good thing about working so high up in these skyscrapers…I can become a peeping Tom by no volition of my own. I have a huge window to the left of my desk and if it didn’t take up the whole wall…I could avoid looking into people’s private lives…freely and without guilt.

Today I wasn’t actually peeping though. Today I was staring off into space. Thinking of your lips. I don’t think that I could have lived my life honestly…without having felt your lips on mine. For that matter, your lips anywhere on my body. It’s only now that I don’t have access to them, that I sometimes stare off into space and dream of them in places that no longer feel the same without your lips to plant soft small kisses on. Granted, up until you and I drifted apart, I used those babies up and made sure you planted them anywhere and everywhere I could coax you to.

If you could have left those on my night stand before you left instead of the money you owed me…I would have been happy with the trade off. I wouldn’t be sitting here…thinking of them. I could reach into my purse and pull them out and use them but never abuse them. Making sure to keep Chapstick on them so that they always remain soft and supple and fresh and pliant and soft…oh, I said soft already. Either way, I would cherish your lips like I did when they were here. Yea, too bad you didn’t leave those behind rather than the worn, tattered and holey underwear left in my bottom drawer in the right hand corner.

You weren’t around nearly as much as I wanted you to be, back in those days. I never got all the intimacy I needed to feel like I was…needed. But…I have to admit, I get warm from the inside out as I think about all the times that I did have them around. With that knowledge, I suppose that there had to be something about me that made you want to press those luscious lips on parts of my body. Doing things that made me blush and made me cum. Ah, those lips on me.

Is it possible to get an obligatory break-up lip-lock for old times sake. I mean, you can keep your words to yourself…and no need for your hands… just come over and put those soup sippers on me…
...on me something gooooood...and bad, all at the same time.

THIS Man...

2008-11-04T23:42:00.019-05:00

Has Become MY President!!!!
The One? Yea...

Will Now Be Called ...

To YOU!!!
So...cry...and be happy...and rejoice in the fact that ...YES...we made it happen! We Believed that...
YES WE CAN!

...But never forget... He has a lot to still conquer... He needs us...as much as we, as a people, need him.

But...ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE!! He is READY to take on the highest office in the land and make this country something different...for the first time in history.
These are the new faces of 1600 Pennsylvania Street (...and don't forget the new puppy)

So here now...is where the journey begins...

Tonight...and in the days to come... We will be happy and estatic that we had...HOPE...and continue to see a better day...it's been a long time coming... Tonight is not the end of this monumentous mark in history... it is the beginning.

BELIEVE and BE PROUD!!!

The FIRST contact I made was to my boys...reminding them that they can be WHATEVER they aspire to be...

Come January 20th, 2009,...they will fly here to DC and will be standing next to me as we watch history as the first Black Man will be sworn into office as the 44th President of the United States.

Conflicted

2008-10-22T03:00:00.005-04:00

I had a moment…
…and I cried.

It’s pretty earth shattering to realize that…
…you’re pathetic.

You see, all this time I have had excuses as to why I am who I am….where I am…
And that’s pretty much what they were, excuses.
I made them all the time for my behavior, for my decisions, for my actions…and now…now that I realized just how pathetic I am…
I have made myself cry.

So…as I sit here and write this out for you…I am actually turning things over in my head and I am sure those thoughts will fall upon this screen and you will see…that I am figuring this out as I go along. Like a rubics cube, I am seeing what matches, turning and turning until hopefully it all comes together to the complete piece of colors that it’s suppose to be.

It doesn’t help that Terry gave me Bonnie Ratt last night….or that KS confirmed my pathetic-ness (through no fault of his own) as we discussed my state of affairs.

Prayer…let’s start there. I can’t do it. I am struggling with that. I grew up in the church, have attended church since I can remember. Although I am a believer in the universe and a higher power, I am not sure that if I throw out thoughts and words into the universe….that the universe will hold those and make them come to fruition or make them true. I am just not sure. And even as I type that…I am feeling like I shouldn’t. I have put my thoughts in black and white and when it comes to spiritual things…sometimes I am making more trouble for myself. I believe that speaking words are powerful…and once spoken…there is no retrieving them. So….it’s double-edged.
I am conflicted.

I was seriously thinking about moving back to the bayarea… and just when I am sure that is what I want to do… Oldest lets me know that he has put one foot in front of the other to solidify his future plans…and now…because he was a part of my original plan…and even though I wanted to change plans mid-flight without telling him…he is still holding to the original plan…so I am staying on the east coast. I love my son. There is no doubt. And it would hurt me to hurt him and his plans for himself…and his plans for me.
I am…conflicted.

Have I given up on what Maslow says is the hierarchy of needs?

I am still on the first level. I see nothing in the near future that is going to make me step up to the next 4 levels. I haven’t even mastered the first one…as I am jobless, penniless, and barely able to sleep a full night without waking up with a powerful headache. Is it possible to work my way down….that way I’d essentially be at the top. And I truly think that I have started at the top…because it was but a year and a half ago that I was somewhere on top of my game… somewhere like that. Bottom to top …Top to Bottom.
I am still…conflicted.

A year and a half ago I was dating a man that was separated from his wife, looking for love; thought he had found it. Our meeting was serendipitous. I realize now…it was contrived. But I am in it… yea, I am in it. The one that I tried and gave to… you know…all of what I had to offer… the me that y’all don’t see… I got lost in my own Fairytale… now realizing that Reality is the next neighborhood over.
Let me say…through out the 4 years that I have been blogging…I have had some up’s and downs…and I have dated more men than I can remember. I had fun…fun. I was ok being me. Today…this day…I don’t want to be me. But I am.
Conflicted.

He said write it down. It’s your talent and you don’t even know it.
….but I have nothing left to write…
Just fucking do it Bloopty.

…here I am…just doing it…just writing.

Old Men

2008-10-10T10:20:00.002-04:00

You sure are a cute little muthafucka!

I stood there for a few minutes…trying to understand…just what the fuck WAS THAT SHIT!

I say, “Umm, are you talking to me?” As I turned my lip up at him.
He say, “I sure am. I’d like to do the Ving Rhames on you…”

Now I know what the fuck the VR is…but I can not imagine in my wildest dreams/nightmares believe that this grimey fool is talking about what I think he’s talking about…

He say, “I’d go Baby Boy on your little light-weight ass like WHAT!”
Ok, I was wrong…he was talking about what I thought he was… let me think how I want to proceed…
I say, “Old man, you cain’t possibly think you can handle me...whether, small or big…I’mma tall order so you GOT to be ready to pay for everything you order!”

He say, “Ooh wee…I like a sassy muthafucka!”
I say, “If you talking about me…you mean a SEXY muthafucka…” (at least that’s who Prince thinks I am…with his celibate ass…lol)

Now I don’t know about you women in blogland…but I am pretty sure that you’ll agree with me when I say…
That shit right there…is some other world shit because I find it hard to believe that this 50 year old man…with his saggy balls, loose bowels and grey pubes…is talking to my young spry ass (shudditup!) about holding me up as he hops around the house with his arthritic knees and his hip replacement.
Nor can I fathom THAT old ass reference to VR was his pick up line, his game plan, his full throttle approach…
But I have been wrong before, as I am sure…I am this time.
I think he thought he was actually putting his A-game out there, his best foot forward, his undeniable suave and smooth mack down. Yea, I am pretty sure he thought he was.

Back in the day when I was the shit…
These type of jokers knew not to even attempt a look in my direction… now that I am old shit…I get geriatrics at the lounge tryna spit game from a movie in 2001…gggrrrrrreat!
I’mma learn…
Stay my old ass in the house and cruise the internet for a man…lol Or hope the FEDEX guys is cute enough to have him come in while I sign for my package…bent over…hands on ankle as I maneuver writing my name, while dropping it like it’s hot. Or resort to flirting with the Home Owner Association president as he pulls out of his driveway every morning…you know, conveniently go check on my mail at 7:30 in the morning in my silk wrap and my furry kitten shoes with the clear heels…
Just saying…either that or go to the bar/club/lounge and get Jerome tryna spit game as he tries to hold his dentures in with his tongue…sounding like a gruff drag queen with a lisp.
I am done.

One More To Go...

2008-10-08T03:38:00.002-04:00

I have been in California for 7 days. The boys went back home Sunday and my father left for Bangkok, Bhutan and Kathmandu same day. I will never know why my dad goes to these places…it scares me. He can’t be reached. Granted I have hotel info…but still…

What is the song…
“…I’d rather live in his world, then without him in mine…”
I am in a conundrum.
Discombobulated.

I just started reading Ralph Ellison’s biography…it’s a tough read but I am sure it will get better. I am sure. I bought an Op-rah magazine…and couldn’t believe how much shit she packs into it each week….oh, it’s a monthly mag…lol

Found out a girlfriend of mine loves me. Odd that. Never thought she could fall in love with a girl like me. She says I haven’t changed. Says I am still mean and everything is still all about me. She has always known that and says that the people that want to be in my space would accept who I was.
All the while I am wondering…where the eff did this come from? And why in the hell does she tell me this stuff after I have been gone for 4 years? I swear every single freaking time I come back to California I get some revelations from someone professing some sort of affection towards me. And it usually starts off with… “I never told you but…”
I get that ppl in general are attracted to other ppl in general…
But it surprises me when I had not a clue…and then bop…they are telling me about “way back when”…
I think it’s wack.
But in this case…maybe, not so much.

I miss Cortney.
I miss Slish.
I miss my apartment in Harlem.
I miss NYC.
I miss fancy restaurants.
I miss pretentious lounges and the ppl.
I miss the grime on the bottom of my feet from walking the streets in flipflops.
I miss rain in Harlem.
I miss the honking of horns.
I miss the retarded tourist.
I miss not having to buy gas, just a subway card.
I miss a shoe store on every corner…along with a Strawberry’s.
I miss the street fairs.
I miss celebrity sightings.
I miss water to my left, water to my right, water all around me.
I miss the sunset as it slides between two skyscrapers.
I miss street hustlers and subway musicians.
I miss DSW in Union Square.
I miss my alternative lifestyle eye doctor.
I miss 145th street corner guys who play dominos in front of the barber shop.
I miss Golden Crust spicy beef patties.
I miss the street vendors selling their incense and shea butter on 125th street.
I miss my church; FCBC.
I miss rooftop parties.
I miss West 4th.
I miss the Bowery, Chinatown, and SOHO.
I miss my second hand thrift shop on Mercer by Bar 89.
I miss Dean & Deluca.
I miss laying across Will’s bed watching Hero’s on DVR.
I miss hating the Bronx.
I miss the drummers in Prospect Park.
I miss heading to Shea stadium.
I miss being able to go with a date to the baseball game.
I miss seeing blue and white Yankee baseball hats.
I miss Harlem Vintage.
I miss nights at Flute drinking champagne for the hell of it.
I miss sitting at the Time Inc. fountain, looking across the street at Radio City Music.
I miss Junior’s on theater row.
I miss the fireworks at Yankee Stadium.
I miss Lady Liberty to the south and GWB to the north, Jersey to the west and Long Island City to the east.
I miss Harlem River Drive and the FDR.
I miss driving across the Brooklyn Bridge.
I miss browsing Flatbush avenue.
I miss choking up when I walk past Ground Zero.
I miss the bad ass kids on 146th street.
I miss being free.
And most of all…
I miss me.

B~E~Z

The Standard

2008-10-03T12:07:00.005-04:00

Tell me this...

Suppose your signif other is having sex when you're not around. Could you get over it if it was just sex and not an emotional tie?

I am starting to wonder where my backbone has gone concerning this.

Now mind you...Dude is not my man...at least I don't see him as such even though...yea, even though. Let's say he's my man if we are scratching the very surface of what a man could be for a woman...but when it comes to the essentials...the bare bones of what's needed to confidently and with pride say he's my man...nah, not at all.

So, since I have those thoughts about who he is to me...I am sort of perplexed. I, in a sense am ok with him having sex with other people. Well let me be truthful...I think he is having sex with someone else...I know in the year and a half that I have been seeing him that he has gone outside our yard and checked out a few chicks across the street and around the block.

But today, I woke up and told myself that I don't mind him slippin' and dippin' as long as it's not an emotional tie.

What kind of bullcrap is that to tell yourself???

I mean, it's like I have lowered my standards when it's came to this man so many times that now...I really don't hold him to a standard...and in turn...have lost my standards.

He has definitely changed me. And not for the good. And I am wondering if I will ever trust another man again.

I've always assumed people had baggage. I mean at this age...who hasn't gone thru somethng that has left some sort of mark on who they are as a viable candidate for a relationship. But I have always been clear about one thing... I leave my baggage of what was done to me with the person I am leavng. That way, I can deal with the new prospect as an individual and on their own merit. When I say I am done...I am literally done and I out, that experience out of my mind and move on. Some used to tell me that was naive...but it worked for me. In doing that, I was not the bitter black woman who always felt a man was about to do me wrong.

This sit-chi-ation with Dude...hasn't allowed that. I think he has put a brand on my heart...and going forward...it may not be able to let me judge someone on who they are but rather on who they aren't or who I have dealt with before. Men will no longer be individuals but a group.

I am sure going forward I will be one of those women that will make sweeping statements about... "all men are...."this or that. It's sad really.

Sad for men but even more sad for me.

Because going forward...I am going to be suspicious, going to be mistrusting, going to be harder (than I already am) to expose parts of me (the loving parts). All wack AND confusing.

RePost: Midnight Flight to...

2008-09-20T12:28:00.005-04:00

How do I begin?
Do I start off with the things that will make you laugh?
Or the things that will make you think "poor Bloopty, when will she learn?"
Well....since I am not one that likes to be pitied... I'll start by saying...

A few weeks ago, someone told me that I need to stop telling people that I am not girlfriend or marriage material.
Obviously I am. Although, in my opinion......

Apparently this weekend was the setup.
Bloopty played: "The Mark"
Setup line: "Come to Greensboro , I want to make you happier than anyone ever has."

...see, this is where I am at fault... I am not the sharpest tool in the toolshed... so I heard what he said but I didn't understand what he said... sorta.

Me being me... the ass... well... I just wanted the free trip. Yea, you know me... wasn't too much thinking about what he wanted because... well... because it's all about me.

Sunday rolls around...
He's a minister. A big church. Huge. Sorta bougie church with the basic congregation of city officials, university chancellors and the like...
Me? Not impressed because... well no specific reason but I grew up around a certain amount of siddity stuck up bullshit... so just because you’re from the country variety of siddity, doesn't make that sort of bullshit any less smelly. Plus, my church here in Harlem isn't that much better. However, I don't go to church to socialize, I go to listen, to learn, to de-stress and feel something that I can't feel anywhere else. Yea, it is that simple.
....back to church...
I get to the church and I am not at all uncomfortable about this awkward situation. I mean...I have dated men of "God" before....granted, not in public and I sure wasn't pulling up to their church sitting shotgun in their car... parking in a spot that is reserved for "Associate Minister"
...but because I know me and I know what part I am to play... I fall in to role easily and so it begins....

....and scene....

He introduces me to EVERYONE.
'Scuse me dude, but aaah, I may not be coming back... why the introductions everywhere?
So....what he had said was that we were going to go have dinner... for Mom's Day. So again...me being me...because everything is always all about me... thought it was he and I...but NO... "they" going to dinner too....

...and scene...

We pull up in the driveway of his grandmothers’ house....
his mother is there
his sister
his girl cousins
grandfather
his aunties
...and this muthascooter had the O-dacity to leave me in a livingroom full of women while he and his grandfather and uncles went out in the yard to smoke stoggies.

So, here I am...brand new and shit... and they are giving me the 3rd degree. They proceed to tell me what a great guy dude is and that Greensboro is a nice place to live to rear a family... *oh, am I planning on having babies?*
I just smiled politely...came across as an half witted air-headed chick... and as always... the standard line when I do that which perplexes someone is... "I'm from California "...as if that explains away every flaw I may have. Most people give me a knowing look as if California chicks are dunce.
I use it on occasions when I am dealing with real simple people... those people that are marginal.
Yet, today I am not dealing with simple... I am dealing with a room full of women that think that their male child is the be all...to end all.
*deep breath*
So during their 3rd degree...and also pumping homeboy up... all I hear is....
Blah Blah Blah

Now... a couple of things wrong with this scenario... most important being...
I came down on the free trip to get away... you know...
country= relaxing,
massages= relaxing,
him catering me= relaxing....
I didn't come for the wedding dress fitting, I didn't come to pick out wedding announcements...
I merely came for relaxation and a little...well, you know…MAYBE.

I can't marry this man!
For one mon ami....
I am a city girl! As much as I am a Cali chick 'til the day I die... I am just as much a city chick.
I know I complain about getting out of the city every chance I get...but that's all just talk. Just ramblings of a crazy and deranged mind... but deep down in my heart... I need the sirens and cars and shouting to lull me to sleep. I need to hear the jack hammer in the middle of the day just like I hear the horns from the angry taxi drivers. I need the film of dirt to cover my windows because of all the pollutants in the air.
I need to know I don't have to pull out the wagon and hitch up that ol' nag Ruthie May to carry me 25 miles to the next damn city...
Suffice to say... me and the country is just a nice thought.
A "what if" type of thought... but fa-reala... No.

Monday comes... after a night of wrestling... a night of attitude and a night of ... bastard ass behavior... I get up and tell him that instead of waiting for my 8PM flight... he can take me to the airport as soon as we get dressed. Why did that bastard sit around until 1:30 doing nothing but lounging on the couch? Mutha fucka…take me to the airport.
I’m tryna be as nice as possible because …well fuck, he bought my ticket. But weekend is done…and he…well he's done too!

Sidenote: I need to stop the story and explain one thing....
Men are men regardless of whether they are called to preach God's word. They are not perfect, they are not superhuman, they are not above all the rest, they are simply men that that God relays his lesson, word, teachings through. So, do not put them up on pedestals and think that they do not sin or that they do not fall short of the glory of God. They do...because again... they are men (humans). Granted, he should have more control over the desires of the world however, that does not mean that their footing does not sometimes falter. Give them room to make the same mistakes you make... you don't have to agree but you should be able to understand it.

...and scene...

...we didn't have sex. That wasn't the plan. That wasn't on the agenda.
However... other things may have happened.
I am going to hell for this next line...

IF I were to even think about marrying him...I wouldn't...because to be his age... he knows nothing about Colonel Angus

Exit stage left....aaaand scene...!

I'm Ready fro Some Football Dammit!!!

2008-09-16T14:41:00.006-04:00

This picture was taken...3 weeks ago...maybe two....maybe four...who knows, I've lost track of my days.

This is me...and my saggy baggies.

But this story isn't about them.

It's about football... so sit back if you got a minute and ... understand that at the end of my story...you are suppose to sympathize with me.

LOL

~~~

I knew that I was going to be the odd man out…so to speak.
I don’t know too many ppl here and the ones I do know…well, they aren’t necessarily invited to my home. Besides Dude and my cousin…no one has been here and I haven’t invited anyone.
So Sunday was a day for football…and as my roomies told me…a fish fry/tailgating party.
Yippee…all I need to do is be around some military...some deltas…and listening to this other chick screech skee-wee for the next 4 hours. She claims she was representing since so many deltas were in attendance…but after 4 Yuenglings…that shit started to give me a headache. Funny how most I meet think to ask me if I am an Also Known As…I think I’d shoot myself in the head if I had to do that high pitch squeal everytime we got together. That’s no offense to Pro or 69…and anyone else. Like some white folks…I’ll profess as they do about blacks… “some of my very good friends are Also Known As”...

Back to me and the disturbance of my Sunday football routine…

So…I invite the cuz and Dude…knew cuz wasn’t coming because it was an adult only party…and she is still surgically attached to her 4 kids…oldest being 20 and youngest being 11. She needs to let go...but until then, I know she isn’t attending anything “adult only” unless I literally kidnap her. And since moi car is incapacitated right now…that ain’t happening. Actually it is not moi car…Dude has 3…and well, now he has 2 in his drive way and the other…well it sits in my driveway…but either way…it’s undriveable right now. I dented his rims by hitting a curb…and blew out the high performance tires he has attached to said rim…

And again…
Back to Sunday football…

People started arriving at 12:30 in what I thought was anticipation for the 1 o’clock game…food was cooked and crabs from the wharf were bought…two coolers filled with beer, champagne and they were doing tequila shots…
Me…well…I had the dip, I ate one crab, and I had some macaroni n cheese. I turned up the game and sat back for what I thought was going to be a day of football watching in my home…comfortable…drinking beer and maybe (not really) talking of some shit…
I am SO not a Redskins fan and take offense to any team named RED skin…with their fake headdress and offensive use of the tomahawk….same sentiments apply to the Kansas City Chief organization and fans.

I got half way thru the first game without any problems…but then half-time came and that my friends is where these muthaeffas lost it.
They started playing house music…LOUD!
Now don’t get me wrong I love house music…I do. But half time is over bitches and the game is back on and THIS IS MY MUTHA FUCKEN FLAT SCREEN AND I WANT TO WATCH THE GAME.
I didn’t say that. ::huge sigh::
I merely picked up my remote and turned that muthaeffa up. Fuck ‘em if they didn’t know what that meant… I had the rule over the remote control… I was the Queen of the remote control!

I think I may have raised some hackles on that because…said bitches moved to the office and commence to drinking more and talking more shit. Military group is in the kitchen hovered in a small ass spot watching the game on a 19 in. I am in the family room by myself and drinking to my hearts content on some Yuengling.

2nd game comes on and by that half time report…the guys have made their way into my domain. Now let me let you know what I had on… some beach shorts and a basic t-shirt that I wear over my bikini top when I don’t wanna walk around showing my tig ol’ bitties…and some white socks. I had just gotten out the shower and my hair was air drying so I was walking around with my hair looking like a bad Diana Ross wig.

The rest of these women…obviously thought “fish fry/tailgating” meant we were gonna segue into a night out at the club. Picture this…45+ showing all sorts of cleavage and cellulite thighs with big ol clunky heels on. All Dude kept saying was… “that’s just nasty”…lol
I’m just sayin’….
This is my house and I don’t know you ppl and I am sure as hell not dressing up to drink beer and watch football up in MY house...on my couch.
So…as I find myself sitting in my family room…holding onto the neck of a bottle of beer as I munch on a chicken wing with the other hand… I notice that I have turned into one of the guys. They are talking to me like they think I know shit…and I can fake the funk for a minute of two…but…I don’t know names…unless they are old 1970 or 80’s players….but these new dudes…these young dudes…not so much. Partly due to…back in the day I was a football groupie…dated plenty of players along the west coast… but these players…well, they aren’t much older than my sons.
So I engaged in random convo for the space of 5-10 minutes…then I went on lock down and focused my eyes and my attention on the tv screen.
When I say that I am ready for some football… I don’t need others around.

I am just wondering if these people are going to be here until after the 8:00 game.

You see, I am trying to be social…even though I am at my most unsocial ability right this very minute. But thoughts of going to my room and shutting my door, locking it and turning my tv on and just fazing these ppl out…well, I am really trying hard not to be that chick. Really.
Now mind you…I am the youngest muthafucka up in this place…no lie. I am not in my element…altho, to be honest…I have no more element, no more swagger and no more energy….but I am trying.
SO as I sit here and listen to these people talk about shit that I thought school girls discussed…looked at these men and wondered if my husband or man was going to be this fed up with socializing and married life when we got to be their age…sorta makes me wonder…I sure as hell hope that isn’t me in another 10 years. It’s sad to see…

Am I bitter...I'd say so...but I am for many reasons.

I finally gave up and left those bitches to their own devices…as long as it didn’t interfere with my game…and interfere with my sleep.

I woke up to a clean house and a whole helluva lotta beer and left over snacks!!

Oh…and for those Raiders naysayers…. We won, bitches!

Do You Know

2008-09-14T17:58:00.001-04:00

Do you know where you're going to?
Do you like the things that
life is showing you
Where are you going to?
Do you know...?
Do you get
What you're hoping for
When you look behind you
There's no open door
What are you hoping for?
Do you know...?
Once we were standing still in time
Chasing the fantasies
That filled our minds
You knew how I loved you
But my spirit was free
Laughin' at the questions
That you once asked of me
Do you know where you're going to?
Do you like the things that
life is showing you
Where are you going to?
Do you know...?
Now looking back at
all we've planned
We let so many dreams
Just slip through our hands
Why must we wait so long
Before we'll see
How sad the answers
To those questions can be
Do you know where you're going to?
Do you like the things that
life is showing you
Where are you going to?
Do you know...?
Do you get
What you're hoping for
When you look behind you
There's no open door
What are you hoping for?
Do you know...?

...and so it begins...

2008-09-06T08:32:00.000-04:00

I thought with knowledge comes understanding.
I thought understanding meant being able to cope
... face what’s ahead

Let me say…I understand…I can see what might lie ahead…but I am not sure I can cope.
I am even les sure that I should have to cope at all.

I do know this however, that in order to maintain a sense of sane-ness…sane-like qualities…I am going to have to be insane for a moment because I know I am going to have to compromise myself in order to get past this compromising situation.
Plus, I think the situation actually calls for me to act crazy.
I don’t know karate…but I do know C-ra-zy.

So before I start down this path…let me offer this up in hopes that things do not get too out of control…

Here in Maryland

2008-08-14T18:33:00.002-04:00

I am here in Maryland...

...and ummm...

I am here in Maryland.

Who knows when I will have something to say.

I am pretty much drained.

Seriously!??!

2008-08-07T09:00:00.006-04:00

Who the hell has pink high heeled ballerina shoes anymore? Pastel pink at that! I am trying to go through all my shoes and throw out what I don't need to bring with me to the new spot... and lo and behold I ran across these...
First off...they are the wackness.
Second...they may not look like it but they are hella high...hella high...I couldn't even walk across my floor without wobbling.
Third...I can't even think of the outfit....oh shit, yea I can...I can think of the exact outfit I wore these with. And I must say...I was lookin' HOT as a muthafucka....being the sexy muthafucka that I am (Prince told me, he even sang me a song that said so)...Either way, I threw these out with some more wackness... shoes that I had no business holding onto.

I came back 15 minutes later and took these pink prissy mugs out the SalvationArmy drop bag....Never know what I could use these for later on down the road...late one night and whatnot.

Another thing...
Since I am leaving …moving states away…I have been walking around butt booty naked with curtains open wide and windows open…fuck it.
If I had a webcam I’d probably pretend I was a part-time porn star and make this shit work to my advantage………$$$$
INSTEAD OF…Walking naked because it’s hot as Hades up in this muthafucka.

Lastly, yea...I'mma miss you too. The last time we hung out... you came back and got me...you always got me...thru thick and thin...you've had my back.
Who is gonna save me...from me? Who I tell you?!! No one! See, I cain 't even be wild like that when I move.
You and I have been thru some things...some drama...some laughs and some other gushy stuff. Like you always say, we are the same person...and if they knew us like we know us, they'd understand that shit ain't always good...lol
Tonight is my last night in New York City... promise, no bruises or marks...lol

And last lastly... this is me walking away from Harlem, from New York...
I hear you New York...tellin' me...
"Don't let the door hit ya, where the good lord split ya!"
I swear New York is a muthafucka!
That's alright...New York gonna miss me when I ain't there to wine and dine...talk sweet and make love...manipulate and expose...and envelop myself in all that is Gotham...

B~E~Z

Happy Happy Happy

2008-08-04T01:33:00.004-04:00

There are very few things that get me excited… ok that’s a bold face lie but I use it for affect…get it already!! Damn!

SamAdamsSummerAle…I know I spoke about it all last summer…but…its summer again mon bien-aimé! So Summer Ale AGAIN…I love me some SummerAle more than I love me some blue Chimay.

The other day while I was hanging and waiting for my zpcar at DC’s Union Station…I decided to sit up at Uno’s bar and take in a tall glass of SummerAle…with their macho nachos…which of course if I didn’t have long hair and some big ol’ titties would probably throw off most that saw a person sitting at the bar at 11 in the morning watching sports center, eating nachos and drinking a tall beer… but I am all soft and shit…so there is no mistaken that this fine hunka lovin’ was just enjoying me some beer and chips, nahmean!
*By the way…stop the bitching and don’t go reporting me to zpcar…and drinking a tall glass of beer…fuckin’ snitches on the internet*

So back to what makes me smile…beer!
Beer and a microwave that pops popcorn PerFectly! All kernels popped…no burnt taste…all fluffy and perfect.
So we’ve established …beer and a great popcorn popping microwave…
Next…
Well…I have deviated from the original plan…the plan was to give up MADNESS (read:porn)…
But…well…that’s really like trying to teach a toddler to potty train… diaper is there, then it’s not, and u want the toddler to conform to sit on some foreign object and poo poo in it….every now and then undies aren’t gonna make it off…it’s gonna get shitted in every now and then.
Same train of thought…Internet is there…every now and then pornhub is gonna pop up! And I may or may not touch parts of my body…or drool over dick and titties…and my fascination for anal…never mind, you get my drift.
No? That’s not the same thing?
Well…ok but either way…porn is actually very normal…and maybe if we gave it another name…most (wo)men wouldn’t think it was blasphemous. Maybe if we named it something close to Prada…more like Pra….Aaaaa….Aaaaaa….Daaaaaaaa *sigh*
Either way…sex is what we do and who we are and what we like and it feels good…and it’s the most honest form of happiness and bliss.
I support porn like I support Obama!! I bet Michelle does too…’cause she doesn’t look in anyway like she’s a dead fish…she looks like she could be a handful for BO…all sloppy and fun sliding off the bed and shit…more power to her!

Next…(beer, microwave that perfectly pops popcorn, porn and)…
Cherry chapstick.
Now don’t get me wrong…I use the MAClipliners…and every now and then…I wear gloss to make my lips look wet…but then that brings thoughts of porn…
But on an every day basis…cherry chapstick is a staple…just like my cell, my keys, my wallet, my camera, my eyeliner, and a small note pad and pen…
*Yea, I know...my list got longer as I was thinking.*

But this evening…another fav came to the surface…football.
I watched the pre-seas game…Redskins and the Colts…

But for now…that is my small list of what makes Bloopty a happy camper… in no particular order…

How Much Can One Little Bitty Person Have?

2008-08-02T11:42:00.002-04:00

Ooh lord, I smell something horrible.
Shudditup!!

I have been packing and shit…going thru things and realizing that….when it comes to paper…I am a pack rat.
See ever since I can remember (8 years ago) I have been writing…so I have tons of pieces of paper that have random notes…or a few lines written on them. I also have pads and pads of papers that I have written short stories on… and all this paper… required TWO cardboard boxes.

Another thing I realized…I have a gajillion VHS tapes. What should I do with those? I have a professional chess board with a timer and everything. I have a guitar that has never been used, a Wii game that’s been played with 4 times, books…and books…and books, and last…a porn library that I am sure is worthless to me now that I have looked at all of the sex scenes (sometimes I let the madness just play on tv and I’ll put the tv on mute as I clean house or read a book... just in case I wanna see some ass and dick when I glance up) I have wall appliqués I haven’t put up even though I have had them taped to my wall for a year.
And then there are the shoes…
*huge pathetic sigh*
Shoes that have no outfits to match, shoes that I haven’t worn in at least two years, office shoes to ho shoes…I have it all. Wait…I don’t have any clear 6 inch heels…budda, that just reminded me I should pick a pair of those up…you know…for show and what not.
I even have ONE shoe that I have been holding on to…in hopes that I find the other…I’ve held onto it for 2 years now. I guess it’s safe to throw it away…but damn…those shoes right there…men loved those shoes and …so did I.
Flipflops…I have 20 pair of flipflops…tell me this…who the hell has that many flipflops? OldNavy maybe? Hmmm. Craziness I tell you. Now I see where my money goes and …I need to start a Stop Shoe Shopping Support Group.

So I stink…and I smell myself stinkin’.
Now, the Little Jamaican is coming over to take me to get some boxes…I was thinking since he is bringing me right back home…no need to shower since I’mma be stinking again while packing some more…
Budda…as much as he and I bullshit and secretly love/hate eachother…I can’t do that brotha like that… smell all up in his shit…
LOL…but it would be funny…after all, he’s always sitting on the toilet when he calls me…equals out the same…if I can listen to him gruntin’ as he pushes one out…I can smell up the car!
I’ll take the shower dammit!

To top off my packing experience thus far…I got the chain of my diamond necklace caught on the stupid shelf thing that ladders have on the back of them…it broke my chain…yes IT did and not me!
As of yet, I have not broke any nails though. So, I am not as pissed as I could be…but I am slowly getting there dammit.

Packing sucks!

*I tell you though... I am going to miss these raining Saturday mornings up in Harlem something fierce. Even now, while listening to Sarah Vaughn If I Had You…I am getting all misty eyed at the prospect that my days in Harlem are numbered and days like today…will be memories of the past, rather than expectations of the future.*

7 Days and Counting

2008-07-31T21:17:00.007-04:00

In one month I have used 1,694 texts.
Now I don’t know if that seems like excess...but it sure as hell does seem like it to me.
And I have unlimited texting!
I mean… I spent 2,094 minutes on the phone…which means I was over only 400 minutes of talking than texting. I need to start talking to ppl more. Establish some sort of real life conversations. This technology thing is getting out of hand.

May 9th I will no longer be from Harlem World, New York City, New York.
Come August 2nd I will have lived in New York 4 years and 5 days later I will leave New York for Fort Washington, Maryland.

I was sitting and having lunch with my friend the Shark today. We were reminiscing about me coming to New York from California to visit him…how he gave me his credit card number and told me to buy a ticket whenever I felt like coming. He tells me has mad love for me and that was the first and last time he’s ever done that for anyone. You can’t deny that Cali love I tell ya! Makes you do shit you’d normally never do.
As usual, he tells me that if it weren’t for him, that I would have never made it to the city of lights…but because he wanted me here so bad…he put in the leg work to find me an apartment while I was still in California.
I had to remind him…my plans were already in motion before the leg work. I’d cultivated a “friendship” to make sure that I wouldn’t be without in NYC once I arrived. By chance, 4 men stepped up to the plate…and of those 4…3 are still around.
Admittedly, not in the same capacity…although…today, I sure wish they were…lord knows I need help moving to Maryland…and not just monetary but physical help.
I am still waiting for someone to step up…still…waiting.

We talked and talked and he reminded me of soem tings that I had forgotten...of which I had to let him know....he owes me big time for some things...yea, I'mma have to wait on that too.
Seems as if many ppl want to spend much time with me now that I am leaving...funny that. I can't accomodate everyone... So I will make sure that my last days are spent with people that I really considered a friend...someone that showed me and taught me things...someone that helped me become the Bloopty of New York!

New York has been a lot of things to me…and as many falling out of my seat from laughing so hard I cried moments…there have been times when I felt like the city had swallowed me whole and sucked out all the good juices before being regurgitated back out onto the dingy streets of Gotham.
My whole philosophy for moving to NYC was that…I could never look back and kick myself in the ass and say “I wish I shoulda or I wish I woulda…”… I did the damn thing and have memories aplenty to remember it by.

I have felt for some time now that it was time for me to move on…to change my scene to begin anew and step into the next stage in my life. I am ready. Scared…but ready. Unsure but still…ready. Come what may, I am living my life…and not just existing, thinking that tomorrow is promised. I godda try and find what’s good for me and live the life that’s meant for me.

The publisher of the book that I did the piece on my father… she called on Tuesday morning and left a voice message…
She was crying as she told me how the story touched her...and that the words that my father had for me…was speaking to her in her current situation. I cried as I listened to her praise my father and told me that I am lucky.
I’ve always known I was lucky to have MY father…and as much as I got questioned about it…as I’ve said before, I never missed not having a mother…my father was all the mother and father I needed.
It’s funny how I can …now, four years later, still use his words as inspiration…

“…There is no way that it could be a wrong decision. God may have brought you to NY to take you to Carolina, or NY may be your home – only you can plumb the depths of your inner person to discern the voice that leads you. Decisions are not financial, political, or cultural – they are always spiritual at their core. Of course ANY decision you make will be successful if you fully commit to throwing your heart and soul into the venture. I am a witness that the Universe honors any intentional decisions and rises up to be a partner in your ambitions.”

I am ambitious!

Random Shots of Where I Be

2008-07-28T20:24:00.012-04:00

My Manhattan

The Waterfalls

I took a champagne cruise to see The Waterfalls along the east river.Brooklyn Bridge

Crazy Lady at Fisherman's Wharf...

She had on... jeans, sweats, shorts, a long sleeve shirt and a vest jacket...plus some sneakers.
She walked to the edge, then within an hour she slowly went further...when we left...all that could be seen of her was her hat...

Wedding being performed on a boat at Fisherman's Wharf.

Old school phonebooth in Chinatown...San Francisco.

Down the hill...

San Francisco

Lake Merrit, Oakland, California.

Ain't Nothin' Wrong With Me...

2008-07-26T23:55:00.003-04:00

What the fuck is wrong with you!

Yeah...that's what I am talkin' about...c'mon sucka...let's get it on...!

Waiting To Go Green

2008-07-15T19:29:00.007-04:00

I had all kinds of topics to discuss...well...maybe not discuss but bring up. But...at this point...my mind has been at a stop light on this current situation with Dude.

...oh but wait, Philly Bound… Philly Bound has finally contacted me...after no communication since 4th of July...when he text me...

"Tell me I'm not alone. I think about u constantly."

I really want to post what he said yesterday but... I am still at that stop light too.You see, I am waiting...waiting for that shit to turn green so I can proceed...pass that situation up and focus in on what I need. But I have a feeling…despite what he wrote…he wants me to reach out and change his mind.
Which means, he’s going to contact me again…’cause he is going to give me every opportunity to convince him that he should play with fire.
Now ordinarily…I like convincing a man to play with fire… just to see if I can… it’s the chase I like…not the catch.

I am wondering…if he was thinking I was gonna chase him , does he?
No seriously...does he? Just because I approached him…doesn’t mean I’m into hunting a cat down and blowing up his spot by calling and texting all the time…
I am not even sure I know how to chase a cat…and with me and my mind other places…anything I do would be half-assed. After all, it’s not like I had planned on getting with dude when I first walked up to him… telling him how he was all beautiful and shit. I was just acknowledging that he was someone nice to look at… and maybe if things were different…and if I was that type of chick…I’d climb him and conquer him…if ya know what I mean ::big cheesy wink::
I wasn’t tryna make the man …my man. I have 5 other things on my mind right now…and they aren’t 5 lil things….I’m talking about 5 big ass things that are either red, yellow or green. My concentration is a little off right now.

Oh well...it was dreamy while it lasted. To use his wording...it was movie-like – dream-like. All poetic, fairytale-ish and shit. We all knew that wasn’t gonna last long…it all happened too fast and easy, he was fast and easy.
LOL… I say “easy” like I was tryna hit that…lol

I was going to write about some romance...I am finding that I am much more romantic than I used to cop to. Or maybe it's just recently that I started thinking romantic thoughts and trying to make those things ...real. I think I never thought about being romantic because I hadn’t met anyone that I wanted to put all that energy into…time, money and …again…energy.

Ice Ice Baby

2008-07-07T14:02:00.007-04:00

I sometimes stand in front of my mirror and run my hands down along my naked body…
I am just tryna see and feel what they do… ‘cause they say I am soft…softer than most. Which has always been odd to me…because…what?!...they deal with a bunch of hard scaly women??? I thought all women were soft as butta and smooth as creamy satin.

So as I ran my hands along my thighs and curved around to my hips and my ass…I felt a little bump…and then another.
Two small bumps on the fat of my ass cheek… I turned around to look in the mirror…
Would seem that I have what looks like diamonds growing from my ass…
As I turned, the light hit them and they were sparkling abck at me as...I looked at my ass in the mirror.
How HOT is that?!!!

Turns out, little rhinestones had fallen off my nite cami and were now stuck to my ass where I had been sitting in the bed moments earlier.
I smiled.
Giggled even…

I liked it better when I was growing diamonds from my ass cheek. That was HOTT...

Think What You Want Muthafucka...

2008-07-02T02:33:00.009-04:00

I sat the phone on the counter in my kitchen and proceeded to make the bologna sandwich… I had him on speakerphone…letting the caller drone on about whatever the fuck he was talking about. His conversation has become boring and …bullshit.

I am not done… but I am definitely done with this situation. He bores me and I can’t understand how gullible I was for some nice words and him always singing some bullshit song off key. Oh yea......he bores me.

So that is why, I set the phone down on the counter with speakerphone on…and proceed to make me a bolgna sandwich… not really listening…but catching random tidbits that I want to exploit. I am good at hearing everything you have to say...but picking out what I can to twist and turn, to fuck you up…not a smart tactic…but an effective one. Fuck him.

So he’s going on and on about friendship and what that means to him and I am realizing that all his friends ain’t shit and what he thinks is friendship is something masquerading as …not wanting to be lonely and out of the loop.

So he attaches himself to some bullshit…which means he is close to that precipice…he could fall in, at any minute…if he hasn’t already.

Yea, he’s ordinary…not extra- ordinary…too bad his ass doesn’t know the difference. Too bad he is ok with typical shit to not realize…he’s fucken up a good situation.

Or…maybe he does now…

because he ain’t brand new to this shit…fucken fucker fucks for fuck sake… despite that old saying “ I am too old for this shit”, he uses it with impunity.

That’s the quickest way to know a bullshitter. I may look square…but that’s what keeps me on the wall…like a fly, listening to all the shit y’all talk about…thinking I don’t pick up on the little nuances, signs, verbiage…thinking that I don’t see you in my face, disrespecting me…
That’s why I have "reserve", "backup", "extra on the side"… and him, he’s thinking I am at home dreaming of a night-in-shining armor...singing and prfoessing his love to me...

He doesn't realize that this...this right here...is what I am good at...dating is what I do, baby...and men is what I know, baby...and as much as you like to fantasize...I do know a little about some things...a little about men ...I am good with you thinking that all you have to offer to me is mediocre...

Baby, baby, baby...you just don't know.

But I DO know some people that can school you on me...on Bloopty.

I am sitting here listening to him… he’s truly clueless. Do I sound spiteful and bitter? Aw, well I guess I am. I feel as if I have wasted time. Within that feeling…here I am …still in the midst of this shit. If I ain't the dumbest muthafucka concerning this man…I don’t know who is.

So out of spite...I say some slick shit…and he says… “All right Bloop, I’mma let you go and finish what you were doing.” And in my passive aggressive way…and smiling on the other side of this phone, I say, “what baby, you don’t want to talk to me?” he hesitates and then says, “Everything is fine.” And I respond with, “Oh baby, tell me what’s on your mind.” You wanna fuck with me...I'mma fuck with you!

Fuck him and what’s wrong.
Philly Bound has spoiled me with poetic prose and all Dude has done for me…

is send me text that talks about... tying me up in my ropes and fucking me silly…
...which of course used to make me wet…now just makes me …BLAH!

He says he used to be a good boy until he met me…guess…to an extent…he ain’t letting me go because of that ('cause I know I turn't than man out)…but same time…looking for wifey material…even though…I used to be that chick that was a lady in the streets and a ho in the bedroom. What he wants and what he wants...is two different things. He's conflicted. I see that...and I know that...and I have experienced that before........not my problem.

I am aware of my sexuality…I know what I like…and he has shown me what he likes…and maybe, just maybe…he feels vulnerable with me having that knowledge…either way…he's older than me… you know what to expose and when to do it… so what he showed me…he meant to show me. Don't act young now, maaan!

…I am just here. And if you don’t know what that means…then obviously you haven’t been in some...thing... that meant some...thing... at some point…that went south~... And if that is the case…then god bless you because…that shit, ain’t nothing nice…feels horrible and leaves you stressed for a period of time…warring with your logical and illogical self...about...do I stay...or do I go.

Nite babies.