Friday, April 29, 2005

I Was Kidding...One is Sort of Magical

No hay nadie mas que yo, uno es el numero magico
En vida y en muerte, uno es todo...comprende
If i multiply 2 times 2 is it really, really 4 me (la 6x)
And if i add 5 to get 9 minus 8 that just leaves me (me 8x)
So many times i define my pride through somebody else's eyes (la da da, la da)
Then i looked inside and found my own stride, i found the lasting love for me
If i'm searching for my spirituality passionately i must begin with me
There's just is the magic number 2x
If i add myself unto myself multiplied times you and yours and you again
There's just me
And if i divide 8 billion, 48 trillion, 98 zillion
There is... there is just meIf i subtract one plus me to the 5th degree, use any theorem
There's just me
There's just is the magic number 2x
Me, me, me, me...(ad lib until end)
One is the Magic # - Jill Scott

I'm sooo digging this (even though I recently joked about the song). So many times, we seek validation through a mate, a child, a career, the things we own without realizing that if we are incomplete as an individual, NO outside force can complete us. If we don't work on our on spirituality, happiness and well being, everything that we offer will be an unfinished product.

If I am a lonely and depressed individual, a relationship will not end that feeling. If I feel unloved or unworthy of love, bringing a child into this world will not change that. If I have a general sense of unhappiness, money will not solve that issue.

Outside forces change like the wind, the person we are, the true core of our being, does not. If we focus on fortifying ourselves for our own well-being, then what we offer our mate, child, career, etc. will already complete, with that outer force merely widening the circle.

Just a thought.

*stumbles over soap box on the way out the door*


I originally planned to post a light hearted blog. Something fun, reflective of my mood at the time. I even started it and one day, I'm sure I'll complete and post it. But today that won't happen. I'm struggling to think of something light.

I learned of something that happened to a friend recently, something very ugly and hurtful, and it has really gotten to me. It really has me questioning the unspeakable acts that human beings can commit against one another, yet still exist under the assumption that they are one of "the good guys." How can folks like that look at themselves in the mirror, when I (by no means a paragon of human kindness) feel bad for yelling at old ladies within the confine of my car, for going 40 mph on the interstate? How can you go to your family reunion and embrace your mother knowing who you are and the things you've done?

My emotions have run the gamut: first nothing, followed by shock, rage and sadness. Part of me enjoyed this "nothing" feeling, because that would mean it was a dream. This did not really happen to my friend. I'll wake up, give her a call, we'll talk about love, life and everything in between and she'll cuss me out for making her use her $0.45 cell phone minutes with my foolishness.

But everything else tells me that I am awake. I've talked to her and we've chuckled about random foolishness. It's like, she took it on the chin and then just kept it moving. She says she doesn't have tears left. She says she can't cry anymore.

It's cool sis. I've got both of us.

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

More Random Musings

Am I the only one that feels like she should be wearing a flowy dress and drinking tea while listening to Chante' Moore's "Wey U" ("Waiting to Exhale" Soundtrack)?
The media's assumption that I give a crap about Britney Spears' pregnancy is mind-boggling. I say she should just wear a t-shirt that reads "Future Baby Mama" considering he already has a litter, and allow the rest of us to press on with our lives.
I HAVE TO ESCAPE NEW ORLEANS. My kid said "ernge" instead of orange the other day and I almost went postal.
Is Jill Scott right? Is one really the magic number? I can think of a ton of fun shit that goes down with two people. I mean, who the hell wants to play Monopoly by themselves? Heh heh...
Will I ever stop blushing at the mere mention of banana pancakes?
With all of the shit you can do with chicken, is another white meat necessary?
My son is in love with a cute girl in his class and I don't think I'm ready. I've decided that 25 is a good age for that sort of thing. I don't think that's too unreasonable.
There is a little boy who is smitten by my daughter. Not only am I not ready for that, but I don't think he is either. She's really got him by the balls . . . poor dude. I had to get on her tail the other day for bossing him around.
Electing a 78 year old pope is nuts to me. I guess they'd rather choose someone with one foot in the grave than pick a negro.
PC titles annoy me. . . What is this "Administrative Professionals Day" stuff?? It's for secretaries dammit!
I hope that someday, in the very near future, men realize how stupid they look for attacking my intelligence and sexuality simply because I disagreed with them.
On the flip side, I question the sexuality of men that wear color contacts.
If I ever catch Djimon Honsou in the streets...Lord have MERCY!!!
The person who listed "Dumb and Dumber" as one of the 10 funniest movies of all times should have the crap slapped out of them.
I don't think my boss has heard about the Emancipation Proclamation. Judging by my pay, I also don't think he's heard about the soaring price of gas.
I think the dude who played Money Mike in "Friday After Next" is the bastard son of a Prince clone.
Zane, Eric Jerome Dickey, E. Lynn Harris and "writers" of their ilk should be tied up together in a burlap sack and catapulted onto Interstate 10 during rush hour . . . repeatedly.

Monday, April 25, 2005

CaramelDivinity Random Ego Trip

Anywhere I go I spot it
And anything I want I got it
5'5 with brown eyes
Smile like the sunrise

"Caramel" - City High it vain that I think they wrote this song for me?


Like anyone would be
I am flattered by your fascination with me
Like any hot-blooded woman
I have simply wanted an object to crave
But you, you're not allowed
You're uninvited
An unfortunate slight

Must be strangely exciting
To watch the stoic squirm
Must be somewhat heartening
To watch shepherd need shepherd
But you you're not allowed
You're uninvited
An unfortunate slight

Like any uncharted territory
I must seem greatly intriguing
You speak of my love like
You have experienced love like mine before
But this is not allowed
You're uninvited
An unfortunate slight

I don't think you unworthy
I need a moment to deliberate

"Uninvited" - Alanis Morrisette

Going through the old CD's and I came across this one. I LOVE this song.

Thursday, April 21, 2005

Beneath the Surface

Take your time
Baby don't you rush a thing
Don't you know, I know
We all are struggling
I know it is hard
But we will get by
And if you don't believe in me
Just believe in "he"

Cause he'll give you peace of mind
Yes he will
And you'll see the sunshine
For real, yes you would
And you'll get to free your mind
And things will turn out fine
Oh, I know that things will turn out fine
[Yes they would, yes they would]

I am soooo feeling that this morning. There is a lot going on in this crazy world of mine and allowing it to consume me is entirely too easy. The fact is, I know that I can get beyond this. My problems are not bigger than I am. Even if they were, they're definitely not bigger than my faith. I've taken the slow boat ride to hell and back more times than I can count and I've always gotten back up, or more specifically, been helped back up, so this is really small potatoes.

I guess the biggest thorn in my side is my constant struggle to provide for my family. I think I've received roughly $200 since July of 2004 from my kids' father. In the beginning, it angered me. Immensely. But now, I've gotten beyond worrying about what is fair, what is right and what SHOULD happen, and I'm focusing on the reality of the situation. That reality is that I will never be able to count on him for anything. Whether he is in or out of jail, he is not reliable. Realizing that brought about a change in me. He has noticed the change and asked me about it. After explaining it to him, he seemed disturbed and I told him that the situation was of his own doing, and his children were still young enough where it could be undone. That was over a month ago and there has yet to be any change. Que sera sera.

My life has now become focused on doing the best that I can. Changing what I can, working with or around what I can't and continuously striving for better. I have been struggling in school. Basically, with all that I have on my plate, school is not feasible at this juncture. I'm smarter than the grades I've received and I know this. Leaving school hurts a lil bit. Actually, it hurts a lot, but I'm going to focus on improving the other aspects of my life, so that when I return, things will be more settled. I can commit more of my focus to it.

The pledge I have made is to stop dwelling on past heartbreak. I doubt the cats that hurt me are spending their free time thinking, "Damn...I fucked over her, but I wonder how she's doing?" Therefore, why should I give them ANY of my mental shine? History belongs in books. It's not something that needs to be carried around in future interpersonal relationships. I opened my heart to an individual once, thinking that if he hurt me, I would never recover. Eventually, he did . . . and believe it or not, I got over it. Am I hopeful that it was my last experience with heartbreak? Of course. But, if for some reason it isn't, I'd like to think that when all is said and done, I'll still walk tall with a smile on my face. I'm way too cute to slouch and pout.

All I can do is keep working and praying that the next day is better than the one before.

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Lady Pyro

You are the Goddess of Fire. You become very
passionate about everything and love to make
your ideas heard. Sometimes you get a little
self centered and you just need to relax and
relize that despite what you might think, you
are not the center of the universe. You can
sometimes appear to be a spoiled brat but
you're really not, you just eant people to
listen to you. You love to be right and you're
very intense and passionate about everything,
and this does not exclude love. When you're in
love you feel like the owrld is smiling at you
and you get taken over by passion. You need a
guy that can deal with your intensity and who
loves you for being completely real. People
love your passion but can get tired with it.
Don't let this discourage you and keep on being
real. Chances are you have a close group of
friends. All i would say is let other people
have a chance to voice their opinions, and just
keep being passionately real.

What are you goddess of?
brought to you by Quizilla

I took one of those crazy quizzes, and it told me that I am a fire goddess. I hate to admit it...but I kind of like that notion.

Worth a thousand words

It's no secret that I'm not a fan of pictures. They give me the heebie jeebies. The whole idea of "pause, smile, flash" does something to me. I think it's because I feel like that person in the picture isn't "me". It's my Cheshire representative.

I typically don't have an issue with candid shots. Those tend to better represent who I be. My shiny faced, beady eyed self, hehehe.

However, I recently saw a candid picture of myself. My eyes are closed and I'm singing. There's a calm look on my face...and it scares the crap out of me. Because I don't know if that person is me either.

But I'd like to think that one day, I'll be some variation of that person.

Saturday, April 16, 2005

World Tour

I had a beautiful time with some dynamic folks in New York City this past weekend. I'm a southern guhl to the core and there's nothing like our hospitality, but I can definitely say that the people I was with made sure I felt welcomed. Good times were had by all.

This was my first vacation without my children since . . . well, since I've had children. It is incredibly easy to lose "yourself" once you have kids. I must admit that I enjoyed hanging out without having to worry about working the next day or having to pick the kids up from the sitter. It's a beautiful thing.

However, now I'm hooked. I can't WAIT until my next vacation. Chicago is my next stop. July 1-4. I can't wait.

In September, the plan is to head to the DC/Maryland area and scout areas. I'm serious about getting the hell up out of New Orleans. This place is killing me. I enjoyed New York, but it's a smidge too busy for me. I wouldn't mind being in relatively close proximity though. It's a hell of a place to visit.

I'll just have to see how my plans fall into place.

Sunday, April 10, 2005


I'm 28 years old and I still don't think things through totally. When there are choices to be made, I will invariably choose wrong - I believe I've said that before. If I haven't, I'm stating it for the record now. My goal now is to work on that flaw because it's really not attractive at all. This flaw affects all aspects of my life, including friendships.

My life is really at a standstill and I have a slew of decisions to make. Every single aspect of my personal life is in upheaval and I really don't know what my next step should be. Everybody seems to be under the impression that I am strong enough to handle the things that are going on with me, but they're mistaken. I'm not. If I were, I wouldn't be having the problems I have now. I have spent my entire life trying to make everybody happy. The problem with that is, when you attempt to do that, you make everyone unhappy.

There's a part of me that believes that the right decisions are in my heart and it's just a matter of implementing them, but until I figure out what those decisions are, I'm going to be running in circles. I guess this is just turning out to be a rough day, but I guess I've had rougher, so I'm sure I'll make it through.

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

The Act of Selling and Redeeming Wolf Tickets

The best and worst thing about me is my big mouth. I am truly not one of those people that make an issue out of everything, but once something has become an issue for me, things can get ugly. Even deeper than that, is the overwhelming desire to follow up my words with actions. Allow me to explain.

On my second day of kindergarten, I got into a fight. This girl named Tiffany and I went to the same baby sitter and she HATED me. Evidently, to her, I seemed like the chick to fool with, so she just walked up to me on the yard and shoved me. Given the fact that I already had the reputation for being a fighter, and got in trouble on the FIRST day of school for catching the bus (when I had a ride and NO idea where I was going), my mother sent me off with the instructions to "not act a fool" that day. So I told her to leave me alone and walked on. She started pitching rocks at me and I made a few disparaging remarks about her appearance so she came at me. I told her "If you come over here, I'm gonna bite the devil out of you." Evidently that gave her an idea so she ran up and bit my arm. Unfortunately for her, that put her face in an extremely vulnerable position. I put a pit bull lock on her cheek and wouldn't let go. For some reason, the teachers that didn't witness her push and throw rocks at me did catch me trying to rip her face off. Maybe it was the screams that clued them in. In any event, I got in trouble that day at school, but my sitter and my family, who knew of my woes with Tiff, found the whole thing hilarious. I had EXCELLENT role models. I also had few, if any, problems with Tiffany or anybody else for the rest of the year.

Fast forward to fourth grade. By then, my cussing skills were sharp as a suit at the Players' Ball. Even my older brother was impressed. About this time, I also developed this bold rebellion that defied reason, considering my parents never hesitated to put their feet in my ass. For some reason, my fourth grade teacher, Ms. Gourrier, plucked my nerves. I had been threatening to curse her out for weeks and of course, none of the kids believed I would do it. On this particular day, the class was rowdy and she decided that she would take our PE time from us. For some inexplicable reason, I decided that was the time to make good on my threat. The PLAN was, while all the other kids were protesting, I would make my move - hopefully being drowned out by the cacophony, yet being heard by my seat mates and keeping my word. The words "BITCH you must be out of your fucking mind" came out so quickly, I barely had the chance to realize that my utterance of the word "bitch" silenced the room. She turned nine shades of purple and asked, "What did you just say to me?" At that point, it was done and I couldn't back down. I knew I was in trouble either way, so I figured I'd go out in a blaze of glory. Though part of my brain was telling me to shut the fuck up, the part that ruled my mouth made me say, "I know damn well you heard me." She knew that my mother didn't play that, so she called her at work. I wasn't suspended, but the moment I got home, my parents set up a tag team ass whipping extravaganza. Of course, it didn't stop me permanently, but it did earn my teacher about two weeks of peace from me.

My family thought that as I matured, my mouth would do the same, and it did - to a point. It took a lot to set me off, but once I did get set off, shit went full throttle. I was a new mother, on a family trip to AstroWorld. I did, and do, not play when it comes to the well being of my child and woe to the person that threatens it. Ty was only about 4 months old. Some bad ass kid jumped over his stroller, and I told him to keep his ass away from me. He turned around and made some reference to getting his mother. My response was "Call your damn mama!" Within five minutes, I was face to face with one of the biggest women I had ever seen in all my days. Common sense told me to get the hell out of there, but something else said "If you don't stand up for yourself and your child, who will?" It was bullshit though. Part of it was for my child, but the other part was for my big ass ego. What's funny though, is the fact that if that woman would have gotten a-hold of me, standing probably would have been a distant memory. I stood my ground and went word for word with her. She told me "I don't know who in the hell you think you are talking to my damned child like that. You fucked with the wrong one." To which I replied, "Maybe if you CONTROLLED your child, we wouldn't even be having this conversation, so I'll do you a favor. . . AFTER I beat your ass, I'm gonna beat his ass so that he remembers not to act a fool and jump over strollers." I said it, but the whole time I was talking, I was thinking, "This behemoth is going to grind me into powder." I surveyed the area for something to crack her dome with and was coming up with nada. Evidently, it got to be too much for some of the other folks, because security showed up and escorted both of our parties to our cars. That was a lucky day because that big bitch was going to make mincemeat out of me.

I'm sure that I referred to the fact that one of the reasons behind my divorce was physical abuse. Once I left my ex, I told him "you've gotten your last free lick off me." I planned for there to be some consequences and repercussions. After months of him harassing and threatening me, things came to a head in June of 2002. We were having a disagreement in a hallway outside of my pregnant cousin's apartment. He was angry because I would not let him in. We were going back and forth when out the blue, he popped the shit out of me. He was cocking back to hit me again and the words "last free lick" popped into my head. I then proceeded to execute one of the best rabbit punches of all my life. I must say, I dazed the hell out of his ass. He shook a little bit and tried to hit me again. I was feeling cocky, so I drew back, swung and damn near took his jaw off. Unfortunately, the next thing I remember is catching a pool of blood in my hand. It turns out the motherfucker hit me with a key ring and damn near broke my nose. What a beyotch. But what can I say. I just told him it was his last free lick. . . I didn't say I would whip his ass. I can say that was the last time he ever put his hands on me.

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

If I believed in reincarnation

I would believe that I was a man in a past life. Here's why:

I can not bring myself to put TP on an empty roll. It doesn't even occur to me to do it. I have NOOOO desire to do it. The same goes for refilling ice cube trays. Two simple tasks that I hate to the core of my being.

Were it not for motherhood, I'd probably live off of ramen, hot wings, pizza and alcohol.

I find toilet humor INGENIOUS!

In my opinion, the Lifetime channel and the Lifetime Movie Network, aka Uber-Estrogen Entertainment, are abominations before the gods of television. Their creators should be stoned.

The mere thought of dishwashing brings tears to my eyes, so I kind of . . . well, I don't.

I forget shit. As in, EVERYTHING.

I shamelessly eyeball men - to the point that they feel cheap and used. AND I LOVE IT!

I think that my boobs are awesome! After I had my first kid, I used to go into the bathroom and look at my "gifts".

I think that going to sporting events and screaming to the point of elevating my blood pressure, at people who will have no impact on my life whatsoever is the sign of an awesome evening.

After sex, well, back when I actually used to have sex, I want a snack, maybe a drink and some silence. Hate to be rude, but I really don't want to know what you're thinking or share what I'm thinking. Especially if I found the act sub par.

Though I am an adult, I could play video games for HOURS.

I will pull a wedgie in public. Granted, it has to be an extreme wedgie, but be forewarned, it WILL be removed.

If I am pushed to fight, my logic will be overshadowed by my ego and I will plunge headfirst into an ass whipping, retaining the satisfaction that I defended my honor, and laugh about my swollen lip.

I like watching a good fight.

I believe that shooting and explosions enhance movies.

Taking things apart that I have no clue how to fix is my idea of a good time. I love the challenge it presents.

I will say "Ok, you're right" if it will get you to shut the fuck up.

Touching my remote is high treason.


Touching the settings on my car stereo are grounds for being dismissed from my car.

If I ask a direct question, and the response consists of more than five words, I stop listening.

The greatest proof is the fact that I think that these qualities are not only normal, but admirable. So deal with it or bite me.