You Wanted to Know

After reviewing the questions posted by my friends I realized, "I associate with some filthy bastards." Ah well, I guess I asked for it. Forgive me, as there may be some dodging. Here goes:

I. Filthy Danja:

1. What is your NASTIEST sexual fantasy? Be honest. I mean shit that is so nasty makes you blush when u think about it.

There's two things with that 1) at 28, the only thing I really blush at are compliments; and, 2) I don't think of fantasies and sexuality in terms of "nasty" (ya nasty bastid LOL!) That being said, there is something about the thought of tearing it down in the sky box at a Hornets championship game thing (yeah...Hornets and championship - REAL fantasy, lol) that does it for me, but like I said, nothing I do is nasty. Heh heh.

2. When was the last time you cried and why did you cry?

I'm a big ass crybaby. I know folks tend to stereotype women as emotional cheaters who use tears as leverage, but not me. I cry at movies, weddings, graduations, when I'm angry, you name it. The last time I cried regarding that something that affected me directly though was when my boss pissed me off and it was a choice between crying or getting creative with my letter opener.

3. If you had Djimon Honsou (sp?) for 8 hours and you could do anything with him, give me THREE detailed descriptions of things you would do.

The FIRST thing I'd do is thank the Lord for sending a man THAT fine my way.

Second I'd work fulfilling that un-nasty sky box fantasy of mine. (I'd fight the urge to ask him to yell out "Give us us free!" But I promise NOTHING!)

Third, react the sky box festivities in the arena parking lot...and on the way home...and once we get home. Hey, I don't know that man, I didn't say I liked him for his mind.

II. Native Feather the West Coast Beauty:

1. Have you ever been in love and with whom?

Yep. I've had decent dating relationships over time where I still have affection for the guy. However, if you're referring to being completely in love, check Him, December 10, 2004 blog. He was my sweetie and the only person I've felt that way about so far. I wish him the best.

2. What is one dream that you have and do you think that it will be fulfilled?

To be a published author. I can see that it will be fulfilled.

3. What is your dream car?

This gorgeous '66 El Camino. I love muscle cars. I'm not a car junkie or anything, but I would LOVE to drive around in that. If you want something modern, a silver Q45 would look good around me.

III. The Inquisitive Tiger:

1. WHERE DID U GO WHEN U LEFT US AT THE POOL HALL?

Oh how I hate you.

2. WHAT WERE THE POSITIONS U MIGHT HAVE BEEN IN , IF SEX OCCURRED THAT NIGHT?

I was too busy hating you.

3. HOW MANY LICKS OR SUCTION DOES IT TAKE FOR U TO MAKE A MAN CUM?

Here I am...hating you again.

IV. Recent Loser of Blog Virginity

1. I want to know why all of your questions are about your sex life...let me find out that you are a southern freak!

It just seems that I have surrounded myself by people whose minds inhabit their southern regions. Horndogs!

2. I would like to know why you felt to need to include me in your blog addiction? Now I am here ever freaking day dammit!

Heh heh heh! Blogging is fun!! It's a great way to say whatever the hell you want and if someone comes to your casa with that bullshit, you can say "Beyotch, this is my shit! Kick rocks! 'Es mi casa, y yo viva aqui!'" LMFAO

3. Um and I like Sabre's # 3, just make sure you document your techinque (getting ready to cut and paste).

Uhhh...the way I hear it, shouldn't I be taking lessons from you? Just asking...

V. The Lovely Lady Neena

1. when you were little, like say 8 years old, what did you want to be when you grew up?

A ninja assassin, lol.

2. going along with all the sexual questions... (u must be a freak)... lol... describe your "first time", your age, where you were... the whole 9.

Ahhh, the day that will forever live in infamy. I was relatively old, 21, living on my own and of all the dumb luck, got pregnant. Unlike a lot of folks, I don't see it as a particularly ground breaking day, other than, without it, my beautiful son would have never come to be. It's not that it was bad. It just was what it was. And I am not a freak...my friends however, are, lol.

3. describe the perfect date... without concern for time and money.

The perfect date to me, is anywhere that would enable that brother and I to enjoy each other's company and connect with one another. So movies, concerts, maybe even parties, would be out. A nice dinner followed by walking and talking would really be ideal for me.

Break Yo'self FOOL!! Blog Jackin!

I'm stealing an idea from a blogger, who stole the idea from two other bloggers. (Is there no honor?)

Actually, I think the idea is hot, but I'm also busy (and a lil lazy) so I'll just paste the concept:

So for those of you who don't frequent the other blogs that I do, Im going to explain what I am doing. Today is Tuesday. You all have until Friday to submit 3 Questions that you want me to answer

THREE QUESTIONS

Leave the questions in the comment section. I will answer the questions Saturday or Sunday and post every answer to every question to the best of my ability.

Ask anything you want to know about me. No question is too crazy.

I'm going to be supremely bored this weekend, so take pity on me and give me something to do. Don't force me to go to the mall and buy another pair of shoes!!

Garage Sale

In life we amass items that are positively useless, yet we hold onto them. Whether it's a skirt that you're NEVER going to get your big ass into again, an exercise bike that you've had since the Carter administration, a sofa in the attic, whatever. Ultimately, a light goes off in our heads, "This is some unnecessary ish," and we have a garage sale to get rid of the stuff. Once we sell it, it's gone. No returns, no exchanges.

I think people should have a garage sale of issues. Sometimes we hang and harp on to things that are totally unnecessary and all they is clog up space. So I'm putting some stuff out at Mel's Garage Sale:

1. My marriage/past relationships - FOR SALE!!

The past is the past. Everyone is different. Some folks are great, some will do you dirty. C'est la vie. No big story there. I've lived and learned the lessons I believe I was meant to learn from those few bad experiences and now I'm slapping a sign on that topic. I'm knocking on the door of my 30s and there's no need to enter it with the 20s garbage.

2. Losing weight - MUST GO!!!

I'm a big girl...I'd like to think I'm a big pretty girl, but a big girl all the same. I'm in the process of breaking off my passionate affair with grease and gravy. However, conversations about that are off limits. No one cares. Most of the people I hang around now have only known me as a fat brawd. There's nothing more pathetic than hearing somebody talk about "When I'm a size 8 again" or "In my thin days" with a piece of chicken dangling from her paw. Shut up and do a push up...or better yet, push AWAY.

3. Fincial Standing - CLEARANCE!!

My goal is to be about it. As the talking increases, the action decreases. So now I plan, and work it out from there. All that mamby pamby complaining is gone though.

4. My occasionally shitty job - LIQUIDATION!!

I complain about my job. I feel overworked, underpaid, but yet, I still manage to pay (some of) my bills and blog! So either I quit and work for a firm where I have to punch a clock and wear hose, or I shut the phuk up, relax and work in the environment where I have a fair amount of leeway, can handle my personal issues as they arise and I can give my lovely gams some air.

Whew...now maybe my real life can begin!!

For all the right reasons

We've all seen it before. Two people meet, fall in "lurve," get married, fall out of love and divorce. It is not uncommon to hear at least one of the parties in this predicament say, "We got married for all the wrong reasons." This has me thinking, what are some "right" reasons to get married. Yeah, I know about love and all of that other stuff, but what about other things that may count. I've compiled a list of such reasons (not including sex and money), from a woman's point of view. I've also added a list of appropriate engagement gifts, in lieu of an engagement ring.

1. Taking out the trash

That shit is dead as Jimmy Hoffa to me (and most women that I know). I'm sure it's a social conditioning thing. In every house I've been exposed to, either in person or via television, the man or son of the family took out the trash. I hate taking out my own garbage. I mean, I've already had to buy, cook and clean the shit up, but now, I've got to throw it out too? Basuro!! I guess there's no logical reason why I should hate the task of walking to the corner, but I do. A lifetime supply of those Hefty stretch-y bags and a large garbage can that can't be stolen would be a suitable gift in this instance.

2. Killing bugs

The man should kill the bug. Don't ask me why, but it's one of those unwritten rules. I live in one of the bug capitals of the galaxy, so I spare NO expense in keeping the critters out of my home. I have been known to leave and give a bug the house until I think that it has relocated. A bug crawled across my foot once and I don't think I have ever recovered. If I merely see a bug, I get that creepy-crawly feeling. Therefore, killing bugs...played out. Let me meet a brother with a can of Bengal and some roach motels and it will be on like popcorn.

3. Car repairs

As the owner of a shitty vehicle, I have a moderate amount of auto knowledge. However, this knowledge does not prevent mechanics from attempting to screw me with a 10 inch piece of unsanded crooked wood. Once I went to get a tune up at Pep Boys and those bastards tried to convince me that my ignition needed to be replaced...my fucking ignition. You know...the thing that I needed to crank up in order to transport my car TO Pep Boys. Every time I would go to them, they would tell me I needed no less than $500.00 in services that were absolutely critical. I had my dad bring my car once, and he was merely told of $75.00 in maintenance services that he might find helpful. Wallet raping bastards. I guess that this marriage position should only be filled by non-shade tree mechanics.

4. Talking to bill collectors

There are a lot of broke sisters in this world and they're tired of talking to bill collectors. If for some reason they can't get their financial shit together (though they can't fairly be too picky about the brothers from a financial standpoint), a brother that doesn't get rattled easily with a booming voice should do the trick. Since he has experience dealing with bill collectors, he probably doesn't have money to get a gift so bomb ass sex would have to be a requirement. Hey, the it's an ugly truth.

5. Health Insurance

Have you checked out the price of prescriptions lately? HOT DAMN! That is completely off the chain. A snaggle toothed brother with a PPO plan and a $10.00 copay might not look too bad. His gift, obviously, would be a health insurance card with your name on it.

Now, I'm not saying that a woman SHOULD get married for these reasons. However, if I'm 40 and still killing my own bugs and cussing out folks at Pep Boys, a sister is going to investigate her options.

A letter to my mother

Dear Mama,

You've been gone for 10 1/2 years now, and I can't quite say that it's ever gotten easier. We moved after you went away, and I didn't live there long after that. That place never felt like my home. I won't even tell you who Daddy married. Let's just say, I questioned your gift of reading people for a while.

I sometimes wish you would have met my first love. He was a sweetie. He used to ask me how I felt about you as someone who wanted to know, as opposed to being a polite shoulder. He actually blended in with the four of us and was pretty much like their brother. Anyway, life happened, we broke up and believe it or not, I don't even miss him anymore. I think you would have liked him all the same.

I got married and though that was a bust for the most part, I got two beautiful kids out of the deal. Don't even bother doing the math, my son was born four months before I got married. Eh, you always knew I was the rebel. They're wonderful though. Really smart too. Unfortunately, they inherited the Smith nailbeds. Sorry about that. I cried a lot when I carried them. I had support from a lot of people, but they weren't you. No one was even a close second. It's not their fault though.

I don't know how you did it with four. I'm barely hanging on with two. There were so many times I wanted to punch through a wall when I was younger because I couldn't understand where you were coming from. As I got older, I realized that it was because you could see exactly where I was headed. A lot of folks maintain that I would have never gotten divorced if you were still around. I say, I would have never gotten married. He wouldn't have lasted 10 minutes under the hawk eye.

Being a mother made me realize why you were so tough. It helped me see how important going with your gut could be. I remember how many times you would be on my tail because I didn't "seem" right, and you were usually right on the money. I appreciate that now.

I try to live in a way that would make you proud and sometimes, I'm sure a do. I fall way short a lot of times though. I'm just living one day at a time and doing my best though. Ultimately, that's all you really asked of us anyway, wasn't it?

It's so funny how I would spend so much time trying to get away from you, while all of my friends couldn't get enough of you. You always miss what's right under your nose. You remember them getting in the hospital bed with you? How did you manage to touch so many people, just with a few words? You are the only soul I know that mastered counsel without judgment. When they came to say goodbye, it was as though they had lost their own mothers. Jim McDonald died two days later. It was a hard time for all of us. Turning 18 is supposed to be a joyous milestone, but I never remember being more heartbroken than I was for that entire month.

Anne died in May of 1997. Her cancer came back and she went really quickly. That was actually the last year I visited your hometown or hers. Actually, I've lost touch with a lot of people since you've gone, and with the exception of a few, I can't say I'm trying to reestablish contact. It's just not the same.

There's not an event that goes by where I don't wish you were here. Ty graduates from kindergarten this month. You'd love Jae, but I know how you always liked boys - he'd definitely be your heart. They ask me to drive by the old house to see your tree every day. It's gotten so big, considering that it sat in the garden for years as little more than a stick. Those trees actually look like real pine trees believe it or not. I never thought they would. I think I drive by the old house to appease myself as well.

I miss you Mama. It still hurts and I still cry. I mean, I'm not a walking mess, but isn't time supposed to heal wounds. When I see my girlfriends shopping with their mothers, a little part of me breaks inside. You were gone right when I was truly beginning to appreciate you and realize how big you truly were. I realize that you were tough on me because you knew that things would never be easy for me. You knew I would have to be strong enough for all four of us. I think that I was, most of the time. There are times that I wish that you taught someone to be strong enough for me. For all I know, maybe you did, but after you left, I was alone for a long time.

Fortunately, the four of us are close in different ways, and we hold on to and be strong for one another. But we always miss you. And as long as you're gone we always will.

Cyber-thuggin and Whatnot

I love the internet, really, I do. I have gathered information, shopped, laughed, cried and wandered through the psyches of some pretty interesting folks. Through this medium, I have made a great friend (hugging my Ghetto Soul Twin) researched religious beliefs, obtained educational materials for my kids and learned the real definition of a Dirty Sanchez. (Bows graciously to Humanity Critic.) All in all, I can't really complain about it. However, there is an element pervading the internet that makes it undesirable.

Allow me to preface my rant by stating for the record the following fact: I'm a smart ass. That's something about me that probably won't change. There is nothing I take more pleasure in than shutting a moron, what is known as, the fuck up. There are days that it makes me tingle in places that I didn't even know existed. I know that it gets on peoples nerves, but ask me if I give two craps?

In an effort to spread my joy nationwide, I've joined a few Yahoo discussion groups. They can be informative, but more often than not, the groups are littered with disillusioned pseudo-intellectual desk jobbers, psychos with virtually no social skills and the unemployed masses -who have nothing better to do than bump their gums on the 'net. OCCASIONALY, you find a cool person, or someome who actually has something to say. All too often, discussions turn into overly emotional free for alls, logic loses it's foothold and wackiness ensues. Enter the cyber-jerk.

This type of person is tangled in the world wide web in various forms. All forms are both entertaining and annoying. Therefore, you don't know whether to laugh or slap the shit out of them.

You've got your cyber thugs who, when you disagree with them, say dumb shit like "I got heat for bitches like you," and "Yo you don't want it with me." WTF? How exactly did we get here? Give me a second and a half to shake in my cyber boots. Here's a helpful hint, real thugs, you know, the ones that should actually be feared, are too busy living the life of a ruffian to jump on the net and cyber-threaten.

Then there are the folks with cyber-issues that put their bullshit problems on the net a la "I caught my boyfriend cheating and I don't know what to do. Please help." Yet, the first voice that pipes up telling her to kick his philandering ass to the curb gets, "You don't know my man. We've been through so much." I'm sorry, I thought you wanted my opinion, not an amen to stand by the dude that had unprotected sex with his third baby's mama. Please beg MY pardon. Better yet, get some friends that you can actually see in person and ask them for advice.

One of my favorites is the illiterate intellectual. This person is an endless fountain of knowledge. Unfortunately, they can't spell one word of it. One lady went so far as to grossly misspell a word, then she defined it - you know, for the dummies that didn't know what the word meant. Typos and misspelling words aren't really biggies in and of themselves, however, when the person is trying to be a smart ass, or worse yet, gets angry when someone gives them the correct spelling, they fall under the category of cyber-jerk.

Every group consists of the obligatory cyber-sphincter. This person takes pleasure in regurgitating controversial, illogical opinions, simply to get a rise out of the group members. This person is usually an extremist in some way: complete chauvinist, ultra-conservative, ultra-liberal, man-hater or just your run of the mill curmudgeon/witch. It's obvious why the 'net is a hang-out for this sort. No real, sane person would spend five minutes in their company.

The cyber-sexual annoys me. This person is also known as also known as hot mama and sugar daddy. Virtually every post has a sexual reference. They make no bones about sharing how talented they are sexually. What they WOULD do for their man/woman is in heavy rotation in their conversations. However, they just NEVER seem to have a relationship. I urge these folks to set a personal goal: refrain from attempting to e-screw every screen name they encounter and see how exciting REAL life can be.

Basically, these people take the 'net way too seriously. It can really go too far when the owner of a group fits into this category. Once, for respectfully voicing my opinion, an owner gave me a "warning" and any further infractions (i.e. my disagreeing with him and not allowing him to talk to me like he removed me from his shoe) would result in my being banned. Of course my response was "Fuck you, so what?" Did he think he was going to have me exiled to Siberia?

When you get on the net, it is possible that people will talk shit about me, maybe spread rumors, etc. Maybe they'll do it over my head, maybe directly to my face. You know what? So what. It's truly not that serious.

So Ya Wanna Build a Bookcase

That's my new venture. I've done some hammer and nail building in the past, but all of the materials were already laid out for me. I found a couple of cool bookcases that I'm interested in, and have gotten the dimensions for each of them. I have learned what wood would be optimal and I have access to primo power tools (THANKS DAD!!), so now I plan to do the damn thing.

I am SO excited. Actually, the level of excitement concerns me a bit, but what the hell! Wish me luck.

Better Than S...Well, A Lot of Stuff

1 for the money
2 for the Lie
3 for my peoples in the struggle gettin by
4 Lu, Spig Nice, and Freaky Tai
Music Makes Me High

Music is one of the most intense forms of artistic expression. A good song can tell the story of everything that you're feeling. A great song will do it wordlessly. (Give Ellington & Coltrane's "In a Sentimental Mood" a listen if you don't believe me.) It carries you through the spectrum of human emotion.

I am a musical eclectic: r&b, hip-hop, rock, punk, grunge, you name it, I'll listen to it. (Even a lil bit of country, but don't tell anyone.) If a song can convey an emotion that I feel, or just want to feel (i.e., PM Dawn's "I'd Die Without You"...never felt that way, but damn, doesn't that sound lovely?) I just let it draw me in.

I think we would be a lot more peaceful if we just allowed ourselves a few moments a day to have music wash over us. Lately, that's what I've been doing. Between 9:00 and 10:00, the kids are in bed, the TV goes off and it's me and my music. Whether I want to head bang, cool out, think dirty thoughts or whatever - I just go with the feeling. Letting music soothe me, excite me, inspire me, heal me or just make me come to terms with my own bullshit has really helped me over the past month or so. I guess I'm still learning myself.

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 me...one 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 me...one 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*

Untitled

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.

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.

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

Uh...is it vain that I think they wrote this song for me?

HOT!!

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.

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.

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.

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.

Impetuous

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.

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.

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.

Porn . . . PLEASE BELIEVE ME!

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.