Shit Happens...to me that is.

Why is she so....

2011-10-17T21:54:00.003-04:00

Angry: because of the hand she was dealt. Her entire life she's been playing catch-up, still only to be in the outfield.

Non-committal: because not even her own blood could commit to loving her for a lifetime, so why would she commit to anything?

Sad: because she is alone, not the kind that can be remedied by online dating, but the kind that lasts forever. The kind that you're either born with or without.

Driven: because when you're alone, procrastination can be deadly, so being driven is your only option

Loyal: because her "friends" are her family and when she actually grants you this title, it's meant to be for life..

This thing called life is sometimes to heavy to carry all by myself. My neighbor yesterday asked me why I was carrying my fridge up the stairs without help, I could only reply "because I'm alone, I have no help". Just because I'm strong doesn't mean I'm not fragile also. I'm tired of being called pretty, beautiful, sexy, all these empty terms that may as well be insults if there are no actions that support them. The Rabbi asked me what I feel about family, I told him I know nothing of it. Attempts at re-creating that feeling I think you get from family (what I gathered from TV) have failed miserably.

I'm tired, exhausted even, wish I could just float in a sea of happiness not littered with lies, pretention, deceit. Humble is as humble does, but at some point humble gets run over. If I've ever told you I hate you, its because at that very moment I actually did.

My rambling is not from a place of sickness but rather a place of nothingness. All people fail me, and I should only be so lucky to one day meet someone who doesn't actually make it a point to.

Not Loved By "Fill in the Blank"

2011-08-14T22:50:00.005-04:00

What makes a person un-lovable? I should probably ask myself that question, for it seems I will live my existence having never known what its like to be loved.

I watch the news and read newspapers about murderers, rapists, burglars, people who are supposed to bear the mark of shame in our society. I read about how their 'loved ones' protect their presumed innocence and rally around them so they can feel a sense of support and care.

I look at mothers, parents, and how their love is unconditional, unwavering, strong, pure, even for children who disappoint, disrespect, and prove to be apathetic towards everyone.

I look at people who own pets and how they laud them with affection and treats forging family like bonds with these non-human beings.

And then I look at me......Natasha never wanted me, I was one of those mistakes that happened because her 17 year old self was too selfish use a condom, to swallow a pill, to keep her hormones at bay. From the moment of inception I'm certain I could taste her vitriol as it slithered its way down through the placenta to my heart, trying to warn me about the hatred and loneliness I would face outside the womb.

Once birthed at the ripe age of 18, Natasha was relieved to no longer be physically connected to me the mistake, and it showed. In every neglected opportunity to hug, kiss, or even pat my head in approval I shrank smaller in size, trying to become as invisible as I felt. My cloak of invisibility was apparently so strong, that it also prevented grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc from expressing one "I Love You". Of course, no orphaned child was told of love at the shelters, foster homes, and group homes I resided in, this would have been laughable.

I grew thinking that it was okay, one day (according to movies and tv) a guy would love me, even though we weren't related..imagine that! I was pretty stoked on the idea of having someone actually like me, but to love me was something I could only hope and wait for. Silly girl I was, and still am.

I must have forgotten the birthmark of un-lovable I have burned into me. I have had boyfriend after boyfriend and never one who has fallen under the spell of love...barely capable of saying like. But wait, isn't this supposed to be my time, the time when I can surround myself only with people that love and care for me?

I'm a girl..a woman...all alone..in my late-twenties..still without love. Still don't know what its like to be 'had' to have someone feel incomplete without me. I still don't know what its like to feel protected, wanted, belonging, like I matter.

I have loved, even those like Natasha who I knew didn't return the feeling. The funny thing about love is that its incomplete without the return of it from someone, without the reciprocal.

I imagine I will die feeling un-loved. Lying cold in my casket, presumed to be void of anything, I will still have the stone that lies where my heart was; rough jagged edges, dark like onyx, dry like Saharan sand, and sadly unloved.

Oh btw..I love you

I Wish I Was Eternally

2011-07-24T21:59:00.004-04:00

Basically, I wished that you love me.

I wish that you needed me.

I wish that you knew when I said 2 sugars, actually I meant 3.

I wish that without me your heart would break.

I wish that without me you'd be spending the rest of your nights awake.

I wish that without me you couldn't eat.

I wish I was the last thing on your mind before you went to sleep.

Some other soul wrote this, whom I've never met, yet we share this emptiness.

Appreciation is earned, even by yourself

2011-06-30T21:59:00.003-04:00

Maybe I appreciate things more, because most things are things I've never had before.

Currently a contractor in part because I crave my freedom (another something missing from my childhood), I have no medical insurance. I know, I know, quelle horreur, such a shame that as an American who pays about 30% of my income in taxes each year I'm not covered under some sort of plan, at the very least for emergencies. I mean I have paid so much to the Social Security Administration that I will never get to see in my lifetime, and as a citizen who is proven to be a hard-working contributor to NY state and America, you'd think I would see some restitution. Ha!

However, this post is actually a happy one. Its to highlight that even as a paid contractor with no insurance, that when I contract a serious illness and need emergency services, I actually have the cash in my bank account, and even a little credit card just in case my cash flow is funny. This isn't about gloating, its about the sincere pride and gratitude I feel for having the ability to pay a $700 medical Bill at the time of my visit without a sweat.

I remember eating powdered milk as a child, scraping loose change up in my dorm as a Freshman, only able to find enough for a small McDonald's fry and hamburger, living in a hotel for 5 days at 20 years old a few weeks after my undergrad graduation. I visited my first dentist at 17, cocoa butter and aspirin fixed every ailment growing up, roach infested houses I slept with tissue in my ears and nose while living in.

I appreciate the hell out of all that I have now. I appreciate the brain G-d gave me and the spirit to never stop fighting.

Tonight and forever I am grateful

Why I Am So 'Me Centric' Me, Me, Me, Me!

2011-05-10T21:54:00.003-04:00

I spent every single day of my life as a child making promises to myself to fill all the holes the 'adults' had created for me.

I promised not to be poor, not to be unintelligent, not to be without a career and money to care for myself. I promised to be a honest person who would own up to their faults, I even promised that if one day I had a child I would break the chain, and actually love it.

However, even with all of those promises there are somethings I have no control over.

I can't give myself a mother that loves me. I can't give myself a family that loves me or supports me.

I can't even give myself a man that will respect my strengths, accept and work with me on my weaknesses, and simply love me as wholly as I would love him.

But, I can work really hard at earning things and ensuring that I keep those 'little girl lost' promises to myself.

So if you find yourself wondering why I resigned another position, moved across country again, told a flaky friend to exclude me from their life, or pushed another fake boyfriend away, its because I'm doing me, me, me!

When We Two Parted- by Lord Byron

2011-04-19T14:51:00.000-04:00

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow--
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shrudder comes o'er me--
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee so well--
Long, long I shall rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met--
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?--
With silence and tears.

Christian...I Am Not

2011-03-24T17:09:00.006-04:00

"But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea." -Matthew 18:6

The very doctrine by which 'Christian' members of society subscribe to plainly details ideology about the mistreatment of children who believe in G-d.

Born a child of G-d into a very scrupulously religious 'family', first words read by my eyes were scriptures from the Bible.

First baptismal protected me from danger, evil, sin, and provided a means of grace. In actuality the white baptismal robes provided me with garbs to cover the many scars covering my infant body.

Sunday - Kids Sunday School 9am Sharp followed by General Services lasting until 5pm or later

Monday- Convocation Night

Tuesday- Evangelist Night

Wednesday- Children's Choir Rehearsal

Thursday- Adult Choir Rehearsal

Friday- Youth Night

Saturday- Youth Outing, Bakesale, etc.

My life for 12 years; awaken with prayers for those I loved in spite of their injustices towards me, off to bed with prayers for those I loved, in spite of the throbbing from their inflicted concussions.

"Dear G-d thank you for letting me love another day, and blessing and protecting over me and everyone I love. I ask that you please Lord forgive me for my sins and make me whole again. I ask G-d that you please bless and protect Frances, ToTo, and my friends so that nothing bad happens to them. G-d I ask that you please let my family love me and stop being mean to me, I don't know what to do. Thank you Lord G-d, Amen"

Innocent child studying the ways of 'Christianity' 7 days a week, beaten and belittled 7 days a week. Get a beating, read a scripture, get kicked, read a scripture, get labeled ugly, read a scripture. I never found that scripture that tells you how to respond to your caretaker calling you a "7 year old dyke" and yelling that you would "not live to see 17"..but I'm sure its there somewhere.

Unshaken faith and servitude for 12 years, and 8 additional years of guilty faith and hoping that this thing would work. Loyalty first, in spite of being brought on stage to "get the demons prayed out of me" at age 9. Slap, punch, kick, thump, plunger stick, I still say 'Dear G-d thank you'. Cold, hungry, alone, scared, guns, I still say "Dear G-d thank you'.

Spring 2002 my best friend very religious, church every Sunday. My faith waivers, but from guilt I attend Easter service. Homeless, penniless, midterms, "may I please crash with you for a night" ignore, ignore, ignore, faith be damned. Denounce, deny, deliver myself free.

Church was my family, my family that turned a blind eye.. they promised, yet did not deliver.

Why do the righteous suffer?

Fire

2011-02-11T11:46:00.005-05:00

So much anger in me it feels like life is being choked from my body. Normal feelings like hunger, cold, hot, etc.. have been replaced with rage, nausea, disbelief, sadness. I can't comprehend how the human mind works, how one is able to convince themselves that they are a good person deserving of good people in their life.

Even with all of the loss and emptiness I've experienced in my brief 20 something years on earth, I have never proclaimed to care about someone, pull them in closer (even when they are fighting against it), get them warmed up to me, then simply disappear from their lives without so much as a "go fuck yourself". I have enough manners to tell you that you are no longer welcome in my life.

I feel that with each blink of my eyes I'm staving off the red rage that I am feeling deep behind them. With each short breath I take, I'm gasping in what I thought was the truth. The past 7 months snaking their way back up my throat, my mouth filled with bile and bitter defeat.

This loud music can't get loud enough, the aching in my ears fails in comparison to what lies in my onyx, marbled heart.

Dramatic? Yes, of course..look up the definition: sudden, affecting, emotional, powerful, vivid...

You hate someone whom you really wish to love, but whom you cannot love. Perhaps he himself prevents you. That is a disguised form of love- Sri Chinmoy

With that said I Love You

A Different Kind of Pretty Woman

2011-01-23T21:17:00.003-05:00

Sometimes I simply don't feel pretty enough. Enough for what you ask, I wish I could answer.

I don't think I've ever come across a peer who holds themselves in a higher regard than I do. My entire life I was seasoned to take a licking and keep on ticking, and I put that determination into every segment of my being. Falling off a curb and while still on the ground with my knee bleeding, my grandmother would just look back over her shoulder and tell me to hurry up and pull myself together because crying wasn't going to make it go away.

Skinny Minnie, Olive Oyl, Pumpkin Head, China Doll, all nicknames from relatives to make fun of a fragment of my young physique. However, when I left the home it was quite the opposite. Strangers on the street would come over and ask my grandmother about me, and lavish endless compliments on little "China Doll". All those years of teasing at home built a protective shell around my esteem, and I just decided that I would 'be' and 'act' beautiful, and therefore it would be true.

Fast forward to adult Pumpkin Head, and I have that same shell, same truth inside of me. There is absolutely nothing anyone can tell me to diminish the esteem I hold for my physical or mental presence. I often think this is a double-edged sword I have to contend with. On one hand its a yay- girl power, Susan B. Anthony type thing, and on the other hand is the idea of me resting on my "laurels".

I'm not the woman who can't leave the house without a made-up face, or who can't go out without at least 1 item of makeup on, but sometimes I wish I were. I wish I had that drive or motivation to want to look my absolute best each and every day. Instead, I simply wakeup and hope for the best with what I was given. Perhaps this is why I am single, but then why am I able to procure so many dates?

At times I've even made goals for myself like "I will wear mascara everyday" or "I will at least wear tinted moisturizer daily" but the best I've done so far is wear SPF everyday- my derm loves me!

I don't know where the line between being comfortable with natural beauty and being lazy blurs, but I think I've reached it. I need to work on becoming a different kind of pretty woman.

An Open Letter to My Hair, My Crown

2010-11-12T15:06:00.002-05:00

You betwixt me.

Each strand of your defiance is something that pushes me harder to understand you, your will is my command.

You lead me on a journey unheard of by many women, as killing your soul with chemicals would have been their first task at hand....my first task too, but I was given a chance. Frances killed you, along with most of my child-self, and I resurrected you with impish spunk and calamitous youth.

I chopped off all of your lye soaked sprouts in a twisted double-visit pas de deux, and began the journey of getting to know the real you.

An end-result of Creole, Indian, and Black beings harmonizing together to create thee most un-harmonious mane this side of the Atlantic Ocean. Each and every single strand tight and perfectly spiraled like a bed spring, I hated you from the moment we met. However, I used your lemons to make Lemoncello, because nothing weaker could have prepared me for the journey ahead.

Days into weeks into months into years, tears, songs of sixpence, tears, tugging, ironing, blowing, twisting, yearning, none of which I enjoyed but needed to get through.

I knew that I needed to prove that beauty was beyond long, flaxen, ironed, hair, and I wouldn't stop until I felt the mirror reflected as such. Here we are 3 years, many haircuts, and weak moments later, and I love you; I love me. My relative beauty is present irregardless of my hair flow, length, or color.

So, I just wanted to send you a thanks for the help in guaranteeing my confidence will always be in place. They'll be days I'll still feel ugly, days that I still hate you, but moreover even on those days I'll know that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder....and these eyes behold an exquisite bounty!

Fools Transcend

2010-08-11T12:19:00.005-04:00

Foolish to want solace I am

My words are without weight, feathery and forgotten

Tears without tracks, wry yet not beguiling

Nightmares are dreams of a past reality

Enomorato I am without you as night without illuminance

The heart of a hummingbird dawdles in comparison to mine

My soul sleeps without comfort awaiting the day when hearts and minds coincide

At the shore's edge of this life waiting, when perhaps our time is in the next

I need you now

Humility in Choices

2010-07-16T00:40:00.000-04:00

Everyday in life you make choices, some subtle and some stark. With every choice comes along a consequence, a result. Even when you highlight the possible outcomes and convince yourself you are at ease with them, once they actually do arrive the taste may actually be bitterer than you can withstand.

I make all of these big decisions and I convince myself its for the best at that moment, and I take measures to convince myself that all of the positives will outweigh the possible negatives…yet and still it’s not always that way.

For my foolish yet proud decisions, I take full blame. I realize its bad, but could be worse. I realize I got myself to that place, no encouragement needed. Moreover, I realize that it hurts.

I don’t believe its wrong to have pride, I think its quite admirable even. However, sometimes I can’t help but feel like my pride is being thrown back in my face, like I’m being punished for it. I think the concept of being both humble and proud has been construed as an idea of fiction, when it can actually be a reality with the right amount of balance.

I believe balance should live in everything that you do, and every part of you. I’m smart yet dense, Guarded yet vulnerable, good girl yet bad bitch, so of course I strive to have humility in all things I’m proud of. Is there such a thing of being too proud though? When there’s no one else there to say a “congrats”, “I’m proud of you”, “I’m happy for you” is it not okay to fill in for their absence? And if you do end up with too much pride, do your subsequent choices deliver the dose of humility much needed?

Nothing more than an etc...

2010-06-11T22:47:00.003-04:00

People always want to know why I move so much. Literally, if I'm not moving state to state, its city to city, house to house, job to job; in the likeness of a hermit crab, I take on whatever new thing that fits me best.

A lot of people actually express admiration of me, saying that I am "brave", "adventuresome", and "crazy but amazing" because of my ability to just set my sights on a change, then make it happen.

The real truth is, I am none of the above. I am merely living my existence as an etc...

I am an etc..., I will never be nothing more; because in this world I only have those who I can call friends, and not family. I will always be simply someone's etc... No matter the bond between myself and a friend, in the end I know that when it all comes down I am not a member of the family, therefore I am a very replaceable, extinguishable, etc...

When I was a child every night like a "good Christian girl" bruises on my torso, knots on my forehead, I would kneel before God and beg for a pronoun in the form of a sister, mother, anyone who would make me a love of their life.

Now that I'm an adult every night I take a moment "like a good studying Buddhist" scars from those bruises and knots still on my body, and I acknowledge what I can't change in others, and what I can change in myself. -but that doesn't stop the hurt.

It hurts to realize that I can and will lose every single friend I have to their families, because I already have. The weekends "at home" the dinners, the calls, the emails, texts, and even Facebook messages-there is no contest.

Every crowning glory moment to every lower than low point I've lost you to "them" and weathered it all on my lonesome.

But I can't be mad at you for this , and I'm not. I just want to be a part of it. I want to be more than just an etc... I want to feel so much a part of someone, that I won't want to be that "adventuresome", "brave" hermit who moves a lot, I'll only want to be close to my pronoun....my friend, my family.

I Love You Uncle, Even Though You Never Knew

2010-05-23T21:06:00.005-04:00

Today I saw a man in a wheelchair on tv and I thought of you...

I thought of how you were voiceless, unable to express even the most mundane of emotions, because you were born unto this earth with a handicap. For me the idea of being handicapped is a punishment all on its own, but worse was yet to come for you. You were born unto a single, unemployed mom, who depended solely on the government for all of her needs, and now the needs of her special child too. Costly medications, specialty research, doctor's visits, other children, and simple ignorance rained down as a burden on her, and sadly you too. You suffered in every way possible while on this earth, and the 1 person who owed you their trust let you down. I'm not sure if she ever really loved you, or perhaps her way of showing it was simply by allowing you to live.

I'm sure until 1981 with what little comprehension God gave you, you felt scared and alone...then I came along. Granted I was merely a child, but I think God allowed me to mentally advance ahead of schedule just so we could have each other. You were my best buddy, due to your illness you never mentally progressed past the age of 7, but that was perfect for tiny me. I loved playing with you, reading to you, playing with race cars, and patty cake. Your vocabulary was less than 100 words, but I was part of the lucky 100...you called me "Sheen" because you couldn't pronounce multi-syllabic words. Our song was "row, row, row your boat", and it made you smile.

It wasn't all fun though..I hated to see you have grand-mal seizures and wirth around on the floor with no control. I hated seeing you take all of your medications daily around the clock. Mostly, I hated seeing her hurt you with belts, switches, etc..and you not being able to defend yourself. I made it my personal mission to protect you, even if it meant I would take the beating instead.

I was proud to push you around in your wheelchair when we were in public, never a single classmate ever said anything about your condition to my face, for I had already threatened them with malice. I felt guilt about leaving you when I did, but I had to save myself. Things were getting worse for me and I feared for my life, but I never for a second thought she would purposely do anything to bring about your demise.

I remember the last time I saw you...I begged my friend to drive with me to the tiny apartment we grew up in, for protection..I figured she wouldn't try to hurt me in front of others. Her health was at its very end, dementia, obesity, about a dozen other major health issues, and ironically a handicap due to her diabetes were all front and center. I saw you there at the kitchen table all alone tiny race cars spread about the table. Your hair hadn't been cut in months, your finger and toe nails were caked with dirt, jagged and inches long. The worst parts though were your always small frame practically emaciated, and your missing front tooth.

I came to you at the table ,smiled and hugged you, and you looked at me in confusion for a bit, but then you smiled and said "Sheen". That was great for me, I hope for you too....

When she died I felt nothing. I only thought of you, what next? Your sister (my aunt) came to claim you for her own. She made a promise to her now dead mother and the government to take care of your well-being. I had no real choice in the matter, as I was still barely legal age. I believed your sister would only want for you what I wanted; love, protection, safety. I was wrong...

You died a horrible death, one I could not wish for my own enemies. Drowning, alone in a bathtub, without a voice, a advocate, a hand to hold, or one last "I Love You". Your life ended before you could even have a period of unbridled joy. You suffered for your entire duration on this earth, and for that I am sorry. I'm sorry I left you, I'm sorry you couldn't express feelings, I'm sorry I wasn't born earlier, or in a better position to take you for myself when she died. I'm sorry you suffered such a horrible existence and died an equally horrid death.

When you died I pestered the police daily to investigate further into it, I could not let it go so easily. In the end they said it was an "accident". Such a casual word for a life like yours now gone. I want you to know, that even though I was suffering too, I loved you. I loved you very much and thought I was doing all I could at the time.

I think of you often, but try not to because it brings so much pain to my core. So, I wanted to write you this note, hoping that wherever you are now, be it heaven or a reincarnation, your life is that of the most beloved King in the world. You are of superior intelligence and physical ability, and are surrounded by love and adoration. And I hope, that wherever you are you know that I loved you, still do, and always will.

In my heart lies a tracing of where the happiness we shared used to live. I will never forget you Uncle, please be at peace.

All of my heart,

Sheen

Rest In Peace

Chinito Deadmon "Toto"

My failure is me dying

2010-04-27T21:40:00.006-04:00

As a child I knew I was poor. I knew I lived in the same sort of building as the family on "Good Times", I knew the roaches were not part of a normal existence, I knew the little plastic baggies and syringes were not to be touched; basically I knew my life was nothing like those I saw on tv. However, I never thought I was impoverished, on the brink of homelessness and the possibility of undernourishment. I ate food, I wore clean clothes, I had a place to sleep at night.

Recently I did a day of servitude at a food pantry in East Harlem, where instead of serving prepared meals to the homeless, I prepared packages of discarded and sometimes expired food for those people who weren't homeless, but poor enough to take a hand-out of such caliber. That's when it struck me, that I was these people. I recall standing outside a building on the corner of Lake and Washington in Pasadena, waiting in line to receive the handouts du jour, whereas now I'm all about the soup du jour.

The creed I live by is 'I'm not going back". While seemingly materialistic in its roots since its creation derived from the nightmares of waking up once again in those projects, on that food line, at the food stamps office, its also steeped in my emotional history. I'm not going back to being mistreated, cheated, lied to, or neglected. I used to think I didn't have goals, but I realized they weren't goals as much as they were survival tactics. I've never had the option of not meeting my goals, for in my life failure is akin to dying.

I can't die, I have yet to fix all the wrongs of my childhood. I have yet to fill my room with things that make me smile, fill my stomach with things that delight my palate, have my heart filled by a love requited.

So the next time you ask yourself why Phoenix is so intense, ask yourself how you would be if you felt failure was your death.

St.Maarten/St.Barths -Carribean Dreams

2010-04-11T14:07:00.003-04:00

So much happened on my first excursion to the Caribbean, that its a rather lengthy story...instead I'll just list it all as it comes out.

I'll start by saying all I really wanted was: sun, sand, pina coladas, and a hammock.

Instead I got...

* A US Airways ticket counter employee snatching passes out of my hand, me slapping him, him canceling my seat, his district manager witnessing it, apologizing for it, and then escorting me to the door of the plane

* A hypoglycemic occurrence because of the stress from the incident and lack of food

* A packed plane sitting on the runway for 1 hour

* A flight with no tv, radio, movies, or snacks

* Arriving late to my connecting flight and running through the airport with my Diana Ross fro flowing like the wind to my gate

* Meeting a place called "Bojangles" where I fell in love with a chicken biscuit

* Customs kick me out of line because I don't have the address to where I'll be staying on the island

* Meeting 2 cool peoples

* Finally sun, sand, beach

* Best meal I've ever had at handsome Italian man's bar

* Dance off, pants off!!!

* Frenchman #1

* Canadian Twins

* Strip Club after-hours

* Pina Colada!!!! (times 40)

* More rum than I've ever had in my life

* Explaining to locals I am not 1 of them in English

* Staring at locals blankly as they continue to speak to me in French or Creole

* Ditching a angry, misogynistic, old cab driver

* Risking my life in the jungle above the trees for 2 hours on 13 zip-lines

* Risking my life at the zoo that was more of a safari, with lots of the animals free to roam, and angry monkeys that threw rocks at us

* My 1st ferry ride

* Beautiful St. Barths!!!

* Nude sun-bathing after my $50 salad and Pina Colada

* Finding foreign candies including the Haribo Smurfs

* Boys, boys, boys

* Gay local guy and his French clique I had dance-offs with

* Frenchman #2

* Dutch guy...wandering hands

* All you can eat ribs!

* Nighttime beach drinks and lounging

* Conch!

* Cab drivers similar to the ones in NY

* Locals who will offer you rides for free while you're walking down the street

* Sun Rash 2010

All in all a fabulous time was had, and I am eternally grateful for the experience <3

Dear United States Census

2010-03-15T20:08:00.003-04:00

Its that time again..the time when you get to put millions and millions of us who are native to this country, but are comprised of this "melting pot" behavior you tout, in 1 bland category that doesn't even begin to highlight our rich individual cultures.

I (and both maternal and paternal sides of my lineage) are not simply Black, African American, or Negro, but we are American Creole. Descendants of French and Spanish settlers, Africans, and Native Americans. We eat different foods, speak different languages, and even live our lives according to different superstitions infused with spiritual and religious hues, that vary greatly from other Black Americans.

Please do a historical review, and perhaps consider the fact that not all Black people are the same...really.

I can't get a man to be friends with me

2010-03-12T22:35:00.003-05:00

True Story- I can't get a single man to be friends with me.

I meet girls all the time. They come up to me, shower me with compliments, offer me free drinks, just genuinely put it out there that they're interested in being friends; I am the same way. I make at least 1 new friend every other month, that I invite out with me and my other friends because I dig her personality, style, vibe. Its not sexual, out of jealousy, or anything other than pure desire to make a new friend. Whenever I attempt to do the same with a man, its automatically awkward..because he takes it there. To that little place that should be in the recesses of his mind, but are instead at the very forefront screaming "she wants to sex you"!!!

Oh and by friends I mean neither of us has constant thoughts of doing dirty unmentionable deeds to the other , and just have the same camaraderie as I do with my friends of the female persuasion. We go to exhibits, movies, lunch, just hang out.

A couple of months ago I came across such a guy...I was intrigued by his completely transparent self-absorbent behavior, as well as his penchant for contrasting hobbies. Hunting & poetry, wine & foreign languages, art & sports car racing, his wildly different interests mimicked my own untamed desires for things that lack correlation. I thought to myself "what if his egotism was just a sign of insecurity? I can't fault people for feeling insecure."

So, we began what I would call the dance of the opposite gender friendship. Where man & woman have obvious chemistry in several areas, but are not immediately drawn to the idea of simply pouncing on the other. Sort of like a slow simmer to whatever kind of relationship you are to have, until it either boils over or the little sauce that was simmering dries up. We simmered along quite nicely for a couple of months, and 1 day I put the question out there "when are we going to hang out?" Simple enough question for someone whom you share personal stories with semi-regularly, and wish to continue to in a more relaxed setting.

His response was instant, "next week!" he declared, as he proposed 2 possible events we could attend. I was happy that we appeared to be on the same page, and to finally chat even more openly than we had been doing thus far.

Fast forward to the day of, and I get a text message (not a call) 1.5 hours before our time to meet-up that something happened to his car, and he's sorry for the last minute message. Dissapointed, but empathetic, I text him my regards and brush it off. 2 days later I text him just saying hi, and hope all is moving along with his ordeal- no reply. The next day I see him and he says absolutely nothing to me, not even hello! I instant message him with the message "hi, how's it going? *awkward pause*" - I never got a reply.

What the fuck? What happened that now you are terrified to even tell me you're busy or not interested in being cool? I'm offended, disappointed, and just hurt. I don't understand this sort of passive behavior. I really just wanted to maybe be friends; at the least learn more about the potentially beautiful mind you may or may not have. But it doesn't matter about your mind, especially not when your heart is rotten.

This is what I mean...sigh... would I be this upset if a female behaved this way? Yes and no. Yes, offended because she put on the show of wanting to hang out. No, because she's a girl and ultimately I don't care whether or not she thinks I'm attractive enough to even be friends with.

I was watching a dating show the other day where the high priestess of dating told a female client of hers that she had "masculine energy" and that turns men away from her. This sentiment made me think that maybe this afflicts me as well. Men simply stare at me, rarely speaking their minds. When I actually do finally get around to having a guy friend, they eventually tell me that they find me "scary, or intimidating". This not only upsets me, but it hurts. What exactly is feminine energy? Should I slink around purring in every man's direction just to get him to not take the defensive position towards me?

I just want to be friends!!!

ps...I got a im from jerkboy the next day, that was timestamped from actual day I sent him the original message. So apparently he did message back, but this doesn't change the fact he didn't text back, or say hello.

I'm a mid-twenties single woman, thus I must be gay

2010-01-18T19:33:00.003-05:00

You read it correctly, apparently I missed the memo that if you are a single female in your mid-twenties then perhaps you are a lesbian.

Several people have inquired about my sexual orientation over the years, to which I brushed off as ignorance of not only individuality, but of who I really am as a person. Recently though, a person whom I thought knew me fairly well asked a question that I still do not take as a joke "Do you have a girlfriend....a boyfriend?" Seriously? Did we not make out like lovebirds for more than 7 hours dancing dirty enough to put "Baby" back in the damn corner? Have our correspondences over the past year not been frequent, flirty, and frank? Why would you ask me something so profoundly asinine?

I'm not offended by the lesbian label, as there are some fantastic lesbians in our society, mostly due in part to their character and less to do with who they roll in the sheets with. I'm offended because you have decided that because I choose to be a lady of decorum, a baroness of self-respect, an empress of elegance, I must be gay. I mean who wouldn't want to sex every single man that looks their way? Why would I not want to dance on every disco stick that I meet?

Where in the hell have we gone as a society that not being promiscuous or pathetic enough to be in a relationship you don't enjoy, puts you in the "outcast" category of being a lesbian? Both the women's revolution and the sexual revolution were not about women becoming abject sluts who intern themselves in dead-end, joyless relationships. The word revolution itself speaks to freedom; freedom to choose, to not choose, to simply be.

My freedom is in abundance when it comes to what I choose to do with my lovelife. I am a bigger romantic than most Hollywood film directors could ever create, I know more about real connections, bonds, love, passion, its an art that I have taken a keen interest in for sometime. Therefore, I know what I want..most importantly I know what I don't want. I'm not really a seat-filler girl, I'm not going to use someone until I find someone I actually have a spark with.

A cold side of the bed is nothing compared to the feeling of repressed resentment, boredom, and unrequited lust or love if you like. I awake each day with a open & free heart. I go out and live my life not placing its fulfillment on whether or not I possess a +1. I go on dates (lots) sometimes with guys who I don't even think are attractive, all to challenge myself, make sure I am still being open-minded to the possibilities of what attraction is, or can be.

I'm not only fine, but pretty proud of the woman I am. I even embrace my imperfections as I do what I can to convert those puzzles into a state of resolved. I advise you to do the same, and leave the part about who I sex and how often to each her own.

What may come of dreams

2009-11-29T09:45:00.005-05:00

I awake most mornings from the same dream, where inside my head I am dreaming as well, only when I awake from that dream I am in a unfamiliar world. A world where the people speak with a foreign tongue, eat with a foreign spice, and live life with a foreign zest.

Although I do not comprehend everything that they say, I am rapidly picking up on their language, and if spoken slowly enough I can usually piece together the gist of the conversation. It feels similar to when I am on vacation only this time I have the added pressure of finding a job. Even though this should be a great source of stress for me, I am not worried as I have many talents, and have always managed to fend for myself.

In fact, this is a dream, so worries about practical things like work and housing are not invited. My worries are along the lines of pork or seafood for lunch, beach workout or gym, love fast or slow, red or white wine? I hate this dream as it makes me forlorn, for I am not in a foreign land, but in a land known all too well for its frowning upon dreams, dreams that have nothing to do with capitalism that is. In this land people dream about getting a job, then with that job they dream of having the opportunity to see their loved ones, to do something nice for themselves, to simply smile...but not smile to keep from crying.

I live in a land where all things material are of value, and everything is to be possessed, where the right hand wants what the left hand has, and we mock those who place emphasis on anything that is not financially valued. A land where everything is nothing, and nothing is everything. A land where instead of men doing something to earn the pride of being men, women have to falsely convince them of their titles, all while downplaying their own merits.

I know that this land too is a dream for many. However to that I say, If you give a mouse a cookie,. He's going to ask for a glass of milk. When you give him the milk, he'll probably ask you for a straw. ... and so is the story of many of my countrymen...never satisfied....when sometimes all you really need is the milk and the cookie.

Of Mice and Men?

2009-11-08T23:46:00.006-05:00

What is a man I ask, I obviously need a role-model in that department. What I see everyday, who I meet, who I talk with, these actions have left me feeling as though a man is really a mouse.

Let me explain:

In the past 5 months I have had to move several times around the city, just me and my 6 suitcases, taxi to taxi, Upper East to Murray Hill. Each time I just packed up my own stuff, hailed a taxi, and did all the heavy lifting myself. Repeatedly carrying these suitcases up flights and flights of stairs, pain ripping through my muscles, sweat running down my face, cursing the antique pre-war walk-up that dominates New York.

Out of each move only 1 time did a guy offer to help me- one guy. He offered to take up 1 suitcase 3 flights of stairs, and then he continued on with his day. However, every single time I moved random women would come over and ask if I needed help, to which I obviously turned them down.

The other night after working more than 12 hours at the office, so tired that my eyes were stinging and tearing, I attempted to hail a cab home. Standing in the cold on the corner with one hand in the air, I watched as a man came out of his building, walked beneath my raised arm, walked directly up to a cab, and opened the door to get in. I of course, stunned to my core, yelled at him "hey, are you fucking serious"? It was only then he stepped away from the cab, leaving the door ajar for me.

Last week I hired a mover to drive and carry my things for me because it was my birthday and I deserved to not do hard labor that day. The man arrives in all his tight-shirt, bulging muscled glory, and within 20 minutes he was breathing hard, leaning against the wall, and taking several long pauses. I on the other hand, had things to do so proceeded to carry my own things (i.e. air conditioner) up the flight of stairs, my Nikes' literally feeling like "Air" as I flew up the stairs and back down again.

My conclusion is that I've come to realize that most men today have no heart. I mean yes, there is a muscle there with 4 chambers, ventricles, etc, etc... but that's not a heart. A heart is what most women have. Its nurturing, its fulfilling, its thoughtful, its strong. Just when its on its last beat, it takes a weak pause, then starts back up stronger than ever. Women have heart, and in today's world we have to depend on it a lot more than our ancestors did.

Me personally, I feel men have the hearts of mice..perhaps of Mice and Men would be an aptly title for this theory? On the other hand I have the heart of a beast. Similar to those monsters in the old horror movies that never die..that's me. I have the heart of a ghastly, grizzly beast, and I have to ascertain when to let that beast out, and when to retreat to the tiny mouse so I can get him to come out and play with me.

Why do I have to dim my light, my brilliance, my spark, in order to get the mouse to come out of his hiding place? Why can't he come out when its bright? Why is it then even after I've dimmed my shine, the mouse can only take from me? Mr. Mouse never does anything nice for me, never keeps his word, and doesn't even do what a mouse should do well.

Mice have no problem at all with coming out of their hiding places when they're hungry, thirsty, sniffing around behind me via text and Facebook chat trying to secure some cookies ("If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" was one of my favorite childhood books, now I know why). The minute I say I want something, the mouse retreats to his hole.

Can I tell you something? I hate mice. Always have, always will. I'm more into Lions, Tigers, and Bears....oh my.

It doesn't pay to be a "good girl"

2009-10-04T23:17:00.004-04:00

Recently while watching an episode of "Real Housewives of Atlanta" I watched a woman who has made it clear she only dates men with considerable wealth, and is currently screwing a married man, receive an engagement ring set larger than the bed I sleep in, from her married lover.

That's when it finally hit me- it doesn't pay to be a "good girl".

What is a good girl you ask? Well, because I'm in a very frank sort of mood I'll just go ahead and say it; I'm a good girl!

I've never dated married men, men who are in relationships, never cheated on any of the losers I've lost time to, never taken another ladies crush all to myself, hell- for years I had a rule that if we hadn't reached a certain level of connection, there would be no reaching in the cookie jar!

What do I have to show for it all? Nothing. I have no rings, necklaces, bracelets. No dried-up dead flowers from former lovers. No uneaten box of chocolates from a secret tryst. No receipts from T-Mobile, Citibank, or my landlord from him having paid a bill in kindness. No love letters stashed away in a shoebox. I don't even have the requisite stuffed animal from the one that got away.

I have been a devout "good girl" my whole life, and I have nothing tangible to show for it. All I have is a muddled hope for what my eternity may be like. A scripture or 2 promising that if I keep up this "good girl" show, I will have a very bright future...in death.

What about those girls who are having a good time, instead of being a "good girl"? They seem to be living for the moment, and absorbing in all the richness of simply doing what you want when you want. Meanwhile, I live with my lack thereof. All of my "good girl" behavior having left me broke and perhaps a tad broken....

I realize my birthday is 4 weeks away, and I won't have that box of chocolates, those tulips, that necklace, that love letter, nothing from "him", whoever he is.

My thoughts are inching towards dipping a toe or two into inequity. Pull a few 1 nighters, use my handbag to cover his wedding band, laugh at his jokes because I know he will pay for a new dress, boost his ego so that I boost my collection of french lace unmentionables.

I want to be a filthy, dirty, bad girl.

Excess

2009-09-20T23:15:00.003-04:00

Tired of it all.

Ready to retire to a life full of literature, music, art, dance, wine, smiles, snuggles, ocean, olives, making jewelry, making furniture, sand, sunshine, natural, herbs, sea.....

When and where does this begin?

How long do I have to participate in the race, if I am no longer actually running?....merely trudging along searching for my appropriate exit.

I'm ready.

Top 8 Reasons I Know I Was Born "Different"

2009-07-14T22:41:00.009-04:00

- As a child I held imaginary aristocratic affairs in my kitchen. All of my guests had accents, we drank wine (Welch's grape juice) & tea, and we wore fancy ballgowns and suits.

- I have always loved corners and crevices. My favorite alone-time memories are of me reading in a closet, under the bed, up in a tree, or just under the covers at night.

-As a child to say we were poor is a vast understatement. One example of our poverty is the government issued food we ate: the canned beef in the sliver can with the stencil of a cow in black on the front and the words "Beef", the powdered milk in the big white box that was labeled "milk". However, the poverty message didn't reach me all of the time. While I indeed enjoyed those "beef" sandwiches on some Wonder bread, I also refused to eat cereal or snacks that weren't name brand. There was a mandate for Chef Boyardee, Kellog's, Mott's, etc. Yes, I was a bourgeois child.

-My favorite TV channel growing up was Nick..but not just Nickelodeon, Nick at Night. I was obsessed with black and white tv shows; Donna Reed, Doby Gillis, Mr. Ed, My 3 Sons, Green Acres, Honeymooners, etc.... My favorite movie genre was horror and sci-fi, but more horror. I used to sit in the dark alone and watch Freddy Krueger movies, holding my knees to my chest, shirt stretched over them, eyes frozen with fear and wonderment.

-Preference for caramel over chocolate....chocolate is just not that special

-Obsession with the heat. If I got sick at school as a youngster, instead of asking the nurse to call home, I would scale the highest point on the monkey bars and just lie out all recess until I felt better. Its a wonder I had any friends at all........

-My penchant for being equally sour as I am sweet. I love big, open, freely, and wholeheartedly, and my disdain runs the same.

-My fickleness....One day I love a certain candy or something. I indulge everyday for 6 months, then one day I just stop liking it..forever. This happens with people too. I'm hoping this is behavior specific to people who are deserving of abandonment, and not just me being a brat.

With all these differences I listed, You can still surmise that I am human. I'm far from perfection, whatever that may be. I want a life filled with love and happiness, and refuse to accept less from myself or others in my life. No matter how much I divulge about myself you will never know all there is to know, its impossible. Life is ongoing, everyday the story continues to be written.

To be continued.....

My Seemingly Immortal Grief

2009-06-23T08:26:00.001-04:00

I miss you, although truth be told I never had you to begin with....
Days, weeks, and months can go by without nary a thought of your missing presence in my life, then someone will tell me a story of their mother...the advice, the phone call, the offer of love...and my pain rears its ugly head again.

For some reason I was too much for you to love; you couldn't be there for my first words, steps, or first accident. You insisted that I refer to you by your given name "Tasha" for hearing my tiny child-like voice refer to you as Mommy was too burdensome...

So "Tasha" I grew without you there; a tree grew alone in Chicago, California, Atlanta, and it continues to grow in New York. There were times I wanted you there..Tasha or Mommy..I'm not sure. Did you know I graduated 8th grade when I was 12?...no one was there to congratulate me...Did you see me graduate high school when I was 16?..oh wait, not a single person attended on my behalf...it was embarrassing but I still walked...Where you at the hospital that night my head went through the windowshield?..,no, in fact no one was there...

Thanks for all of your advice on life, men, love, all the important things women share with their birthed doppelgangers. Your advisement came through all of your actions, or lack thereof. I made it through school, I'm not knocked up, I work for my living, on the other hand I am single, I can't remember the last time I told someone I love them, and I still haven't figured out where I'm supposed to live in this world; so I guess not all advice is good advice.

I want to believe that maybe one day I will stop caring, I will stop picking at this wound that can't seem to heal on its own. My logic leads me to want to hate you, but unfortunately its not allowed by God. So instead my heartache continues on, time hasn't really healed anything. In fact the older I get, the more I remember of you Tasha...I remember your expressions of love through your bitter punches, slaps, kicks, chokes, and my favorite the full-body pummeling sessions. I still have tokens of your affections on my scalp, legs, and back, emblazoned not only in my soul, but also its shell.

I hope my grief for you will not make me so miserable that I am incapable of trusting. I wish to be no part of "Tasha", I even gave away the name you hastily bestowed upon me that cold winter night some 20 something years ago.

I am now Phoenix. I am a fiery, colorful, creature, that many gaze upon in wonderment. Every now and again I build a nest around myself that I ignite and I burn into dark ashes. But each time I rise from these very ashes anew, reborn to live again. I have a wanderlust for the world and this new life, and I won't let you take that from me.

Where are we?

2009-06-04T23:27:00.001-04:00

Perched atop my bed watching my nightly dose of sleepy-time tv (Roseanne, Seinfeld, SATC, etc..) when the lack of skin tones on my screen nudges my inner think-tank. For years the debate over the lack of Black people in the media has been a constant subject, though often times not spoken about publicly. These conversations tend to occur amongst black people while watching a tv or film they genuinely enjoy, but wondering aloud "why a Black person couldn't have portrayed the character just as well?"

The ad for "Away We Go" starring Maya Rudolph (Black & Jewish) & John Krasinski, is actually what got me going tonight. Although they don't reveal it entirely in the promo, it appears to be a film where the difference in race will not be a part of the central storyline. This is how it should be...at least in my opinion. Acting is just that, acting! Its make-believe, pretend, imagination, and while often times the coincidences are striking, that just lends itself to the old question of "life imitating art, or art imitating life?"

I understand we are a complex group of people with all of our varying skin tones, hair textures, body shapes, intellect levels, storied pasts, chaotic presents, and bright futures. However, with such varying characteristics to choose from, surely there must be some qualified thespians who can accurately portray these traits? Is it hard to believe that we could be those girls on "The Hills", those friends on "Sex and the City", those neighbors on "Everybody Loves Raymond"? Are we not students at similar schools as the one in "Gossip Girl"?

I know, I know some of you are thinking to yourselves "is she really writing this, the whitest black-girl I know"? Yes, that's a little backhanded "compliment" I receive regularly from people of all backgrounds. Ask yourself just how Black is Black? I mean are we questioning my actual percentage of heritage, because if so then all Black people have some explaining to do over their lack of 100% scores. Are we questioning my loyalty to being Black, because last time I checked it wasn't a group I elected to join, I'm a life-er. And if a person's "Blackness" were going to be quantifiable, shouldn't it be based on knowledge and power in regards to the culture?

Not only have I personally dug deep into the culture from the bowls of the Chicago projects, to the "Black Beverly Hills" of Ladera Heights, but I also have absorbed massive amounts of literature detailing the trail of the diaspora to modern day. However, I do still do not consider myself to be " black royalty" of pure black blood unspoiled with that of another heritage, nor do I consider myself a "black intellect" smarter than the average bear on all things related to Black Americans.

I'm just me; female, friend, Black, woman, American, girl, American Creole, gypsy

These things doth maketh parts of a Phoenix.....

Unsure of What a Friend Is

2009-05-06T12:00:00.000-04:00

I know that I am strong.
I know that I am independent.
I know that I am short-tempered.
I know that I am imperfect.

I know that everyone is completely imperfect as well.
Why is it that you feel your imperfections are better than mine? There is no such a thing.

It would be nice to have a support system of true people in spite of all these things. It would be nice to have someone to support me, instead of constantly criticizing. Stop telling me how beautiful and smart you think I am, and tell me something I actually need to hear. Try telling me that you're here for me, or that you understand what I'm trying to be. Tell me you care about me, and that you'll stick by my side.

Dum spiro, spero

Wing-Woman

2009-04-10T15:03:00.000-04:00

To the guy who asks me where I am from, I reply Chicago....
I'm bored with this conversation already, but I'll do you the favor of asking you the same question..

Me: So, where are you from?
Guy: North-West Africa..a small country
Me: Well let's see...on the Mediterranean Crescent there are 5 countries
Guy: Its called Morocco
Me: Yes, I've heard of it. Next to Algeria and Tunisia
Guy: *brightly smiling* Yes, how did you know?
Me: Its called education. I have one; both formal and informal

Tip to Guys: If you've somehow mustered up the courage to converse with the wing-woman (yes, I am not searching for a man of my own, so I relish in this role), don't do something stupid like underestimate her intelligence. Give her all the benefit in the world. Northern Africa is not like a Rubix cube, its very simple actually. Always assume the woman knows and that the woman is right, this will get you very far.

Had you not assumed I was dense, I might have saved you from your white-sweater wearing isolation at the bar in stead of slipping away for a dance without you.

Word.

Shape of Things

2009-04-08T20:04:00.000-04:00

I've come to realize that I am without shape. I'm something akin to that lime green slime that Nickelodeon uses in every kid show. Even when I am in a jam or stuffed into a specific box, I somehow manage to seep out the sides or over the top just a tad. It seems as though being shapeless means that I also lack the ability to be contained.

I'm trying to look at myself and make a constructive argument for both sides...on the one hand I can be seen as a free spirit. I roam wherever, whenever I feel like it, not stopping to think about the conventional things in life such as a job, friends, etc... Those things to me are attainable anywhere.

On the other hand I can be seen as restless, fleeting, even lacking stability. I move more than men in the Army do, I dump people I don't see contributing to my happiness without a second thought, or for that matter I dump ANYTHING I don't view as a contribution to my personal happiness. I'm certainly not normal, whatever that really means.

I feel like the older I get, the more life chips away at my innocence, I lose more of my free spirit. I still haven't lived in a foreign country, I'm not fluent in any 1 foreign language (just suck at a few), I'm slacking on writing my biography because I'm too busy living it, I haven't finished my family tree, haven't gone ATV riding, bungee jumping, or sunbathed nude!!!

I'm kind of tired of the hard life....Its not that I only want to have fun (but of course I can't give all of that up) I just want to have more silk in my life, more satin. I want a little more congruency. I want sunshine, rainbows, laughter, warmth....

Maybe what I want is shape....but what shape would I be? Is an anomaly a shape? Can I be misshapen? This is harder than I thought........

Exquisite Passion

2009-03-02T23:32:00.000-05:00

Exquisite passion is what I live by. It may not be the practical ideology pumped into you by your parents, but its the best way I can see living. Perhaps it stems from my overly-structured childhood, where I would have to hide in the kitchen or under the covers to fly away and attend aristocratic soirees in Paris and Milan. Or perhaps it stems from my witnessing thousands of unhappy people rise every day with sadness upon their hearts, because they are bound by what they do, not by what they love.

I don't think Americans were bred to feel a sense of "joie de vivre", which may explain a lot. The high divorce rate, the violence amongst family members, the lackluster feelings in many relationships, they're all impediments on one's ability to live up to their maximum happiness.

I refuse to take part in this droll sense of just trying to get by. This is the only life I know I have because I am currently living it. I don't know about the next life, I don't even know about tomorrow. What I do know is that today, I did everything I could to be happy...and succeeded.

Judge me as careless, ignorant, a dreamer..I don't mind. I wake up each morning and I don't dread going to work, I don't dread coming home, I don't dread interacting with the people I've chosen to include in my life....can you say the same?

Dating on Speed..Better known as Speed Dating

2009-02-25T14:35:00.000-05:00

Just a few observations from my recent trip into the land of the seemingly desperate (or adventurous depending on how you look at it) super blind dating..on crack.

1) Don't knock it until you've tried it. Yes, I am in the latter group of adventurers, and will try almost anything at least once. However, now that I've tried it please believe me I am knocking..and knocking loud!!!

2) Don't go in with low expectations or high expectations, go in with the mentality of a person who is embarking on a evening at the comedy club. This way you will be plenty prepared for the laughs that will ensue.

3) For the man from Russia who looks like a walking advertisement for "self-bronzer..now available in flaming orange!", yes I am American, and yes I do have a background and a culture. Where the hell do you live where Americans, (particularly Black Americans) have no culture or background? When I tell you I am Black, American, Creole, at least feign intelligence. Don't reply "Oh, from Africa?". Just 2 minutes ago I was culture-less. I did not appreciate having to school your old, dumb ass on a little timeline of World History, that included Spain, France, Haiti, and the U.S., which led up to the Louisiana Purchase. Next time excuse yourself and go the men's room and google it on your phone!

4) For the man who sat with his body leaned sooooo close into mine, you would have thought there were magnets attracting in our foreheads, back up!
Have you never heard of personal space? We are at a table for 2, in a private room. I do not need the heat from your breath moistening the blush on my cheeks.
Also, don't you dare ask me about why I am still single! What kind of "Idiot's Guide to Getting Ignored" have you been studying? The reason I am still single is because of men like you. There is no amount of desperation in my soul that will allow for me to settle with someone like you...no amount!

5) The guy from Brazil with the thing on his face, don't worry about "What I Do". I do a lot of things like eat candy in vintage lingerie, dance on top of my bed like a child, and organize my medicine cabinet by most desirable products of the moment. Those things will give you more insight into my personality, than knowing that I'm a Web Analyst. Hell, most people don't even know what that is!

6) The man from Long Island, Living in Long Island, Working in Long Island. Seriously? You are already in your late 40's, what's wrong? Are you afraid of flying? Are you afraid of meeting someone with a different accent other than a New Yawk one? Better yet, why are you teaching high school swim at a high school in Long Island.
Ok, maybe there's nothing wrong with this, but I've got a lot of life to live, and its not going to be in Long Island! I like adventure and travel, a trip to Ruby Tuesdays does not count.

7) The guy who asks me what I like in men...I tell you, then you ask me if I like to make out passionately? What the hell, are you 10 years old dying to know what a kiss feels like?
Who asks these sort of things? By the way, if we are not actually making out passionately already, then the answer to your question is " no I do not, not with you".

8) Last but not least the guy from Bulgaria. Sweet enough, but clueless beyond belief. I overheard him ask the event organizer if he could also trade emails with some of the guys he met.
Sweetie, this is not an audition for Bromance, if you want some guy friends grab a beer at a local bar, and shoot the breeze about sports with the rest of them. Don't go to an event to meet women, and inquire about the men.

All in all, I did have a comical time. Drinks were really strong, and only $4, and I got to walk off my experience through the streets of Soho, LES, and West Village
while contemplating my next drink. Good Times!

Bark..Whimper. Meow...Attack?

2009-02-23T15:14:00.000-05:00

Today I was at the gym, when the ever so common subject of comparing men to dogs and women to cats came to mind. Before I get into it, let me start by stating my positions on both the canine and feline species as they are. And yes...some man's behavior at the gym is what started this whole thing.

I LOVE dogs! Big, little, fat, skinny, hairy, bald, slobbery, saggy, I love all dogs. Despite their shedding, neediness, inability to be self sufficient, and all other things, my love still prevails. (Sort of like my love for men, but we'll address that later)

On the other hand, I hate cats...very much so. They are sneaky, moody, fickle, and unreliable. I hate when they are in the same room, in bed with me, staring at me from afar, I mean I just don't like them. (Not exactly like my feelings toward women, but I've definitely met my share of feline-like twats in my day)

In relation to actual men and women, I do think there are some striking similarities that can be drawn, just by shrewd observation. For example, men tend to be the less self-sufficient of the sexes. I mean really, is it that hard for you to know how to do your own laundry, and properly Swiffer a floor? Or, wait let me guess because you are sooooo focused on being the best lawyer, doctor, engineer, etc. etc. you can be, you can't possibly multi-task and actually urinate into the huge hole of water, or for that matter shake when you are done.

I will liken my previous example to the teachings of puppies. Much like men, puppies can only focus on 1 thing at a time. First you have to get them potty trained, but don't try to teach them tricks at the same time! You'll end up with a dog who can roll over while he pees, but who's incapable of doing either separately.

Dogs have a reputation for being the fierce protectors of the 2 species. Loyal, kind, aggressive when necessary. Man's best friend...I wonder why? I happen to think contrary to this ideal. You see, dogs may appear to be tough at first ;what with the gristly exterior, the sharp canines, the rough growl, but have you ever called a dog on his bluff? Most dogs bark, but if you call them on it, buck at them, or even try to kill them with kindness, they are putty in your hands. My thought is dogs bark, but then they whimper.

Let's move on to cats, kitty, kitty, cats. Cats are very independent animals, to the point that its easy to deem them as "users", using people for affection only when they feel like it, but turning away when someone needs it from them. Cats are content to curl up under you, and purr in your ear, just so they can get that behind the head massage, then go back under the bed. Let you come after a hard day's work and really need a big meow from your pal, she's nowhere to be found, too busy licking itself, or just doesn't give a damn to move. This makes them completely unreliable, and not very good friends.

Cats do keep it real though. They are the true bitches. A cat will warn you with a meow or if you're lucky a hiss. But rest assured a good scratch attack is sure to follow soon thereafter. There is no bluff about it, cats meow then attack! But hey, at least you had a good idea that it was coming...

Perhaps there are some that think my observations are callous, one-sided, or biased. I never wrote these things to be fact, as there is a margin of error for every set of research data. I can only go off what I have actually observed and experienced. Maybe if we humans used less common animals as house pets such as goats and monkeys, then this entire study would be completely debunked? Who's to say that both a goat and a monkey would fit into either role? Would a goat be docile, and a monkey not simply go ape-shit? I'm not sure, but for now I'm content to continue to let my untrained, slobbery, mutt get closer than that hussy cat down the street.

Seek and Ye Shall Find?

2009-02-02T22:40:00.000-05:00

Its vague really, this quest for happiness I seek.
Since deciding to not give up on this lifelong goal, I've come across many an obstacle.

Obstacles that take on the shapes of men, women, corporations, sometimes the very people put on this earth to love and protect me.

Since happiness did not reveal itself to me in my childhood, nor my teens, my 20's left me hopeful yet desperately thirsty for that which evaded my heart.

Having received small droplets of this every now and then, my quest continues.

That which hath not killed me, has made me stronger...but is there such a thing as too strong?

Kindness Exists?

2008-12-09T23:01:00.000-05:00

Today I left my apartment/office/winebar to attend an interview for a cocktail position I wasn't even sure I wanted. Once the interview was over I proceeded to shop around a few stores in search of the perfect God knows what, and since eating and shopping are my stress relievers and food and I are on a break, my wallet got the best of me.

Scoopneck sweater, wrap sweater, black, black , black...every store had identical inventory; my mind kept wondering about the pizzeria I passed 3 blocks back. I end up in Spain, well actually my favorite material reincarnate of Spain, in hopes of being inspired by an article of clothing. I conduct this quest for almost an hour in Spain, and finally settle on a sweater (not scoopneck, wrap, or black).

I'm at the cash register pulling out the plastic gold when a princess and a toy soldier spring up on my left and my right! Yes, a woman dressed as a princess and a man dressed as a toy soldier, not to mention a camera man, and some other people. So the princess and soldier are super cheery, and speak almost in unison. Honestly, I thought they were going to ask me for charity, to which I would have supplied based on their originality alone. The team informs me that they want to pay for my purchase, no strings attached. I asked them at least 10 times what they wanted from me in return, and they insisted each time absolutely nothing. Becoming weary of grilling the cartoons, I verbally accept the gift, when at least 3 people pull out credit cards. All the while I chat with the cartoons and they inform me that the Santa Monica Bayside Group are doing these little nice gestures for people in the neighborhood, and ask that I just be nice in return for the holidays. NO PROBLEM!

This random act of kindness totally made my day, my week. I had pretty much given up on the idea that people do something for nothing (read my previous posts on some of my dates). I now love Santa Monica even more than before, and have a little glimmer of faith in kindness that lives deep within people.

Holiday Happiness

2008-11-23T16:16:00.000-05:00

For me every year the Holiday's officially kick off with Halloween, followed by my birthday, Thanksgiving, so on and so forth. The only 2 I derive any real pleasure from are Halloween and the Birthday. Those are the only days I'm not forced to think about my lack of a family. Granted I'm now 27, and have spent enough holidays alone to have garnered a thick skin about it. The only problem is there is no skin thick enough to block out those memories.

Let me just note that I'm not trying to strum up any holiday invites, sympathy, or anything else that would make me feel just a little more pathetic than I already do. I write as a means of releasing some of these toxins known as feelings, emotions. Today's feelings happen to be melancholy. So as some of you think to yourself with exasperation about the time you have to spend with your annoying family this holiday, remember at least you have one.

The same one that attended your high school and college graduations. The same one that calls on your birthday. The same one that asks you about who you're dating because they are concerned. The same one who encourages you to do what's best (even if its what's best in only their mind). The same one who cradled you as an infant. The same one who made you soup when you were sick. The same one you were born with, and will die with.

5/3/07

2008-11-22T16:57:00.000-05:00

Its been forever since I last used this thing so I decided to check in today. Recently I decided to try to contact my ex-lover/ex-friend to make amends for our bruised relationship, and for just moving thousands of miles away without notice or saying goodbye. I'm very nervous about his response, or if he'll respond at all. I'm totally over him and have been for years now (thanks in part to me moving away), but I do remember that he was one of the best friends I ever had. I just want to know if we could be cool again.... So in true self fashion I wrote him a letter, which turned into an email (imagine if Elizabeth Barrett Browning had email!) hoping he would respond to me. Its only been a day, but you know how inquisitive and probing women can be. I know one prime rule in regards to men is to "let them process" especially when it comes to emotional occassions. I have no choice but to let him process, but I'm so nervous.

8/29/06

2008-11-22T16:56:00.000-05:00

So today I decided to come out of the cubby hole that is known as my bedroom, and extend myself below 72nd street to handle a couple of pieces of business. I was in a curious mood and decided to visit a library that wasn't in my neighborhood. After getting lost in the library next door to MOMA I decided to walk the 20 or so blocks down to my next destination, opting for the lesser traveled 5th avenue as my guided path. As I pass "Little Brazil Way" in my rainy day get-up of trench coat, high-top Chucks, and hoodie over Ipod, I am summoned by a rotund man in a yarmulke. Being quite proud of my 1 year's worth of NYC knowledge, I decide to be a good samaritan and break the gentleman off with some directions.

As I pause Ne-Yo, the man asks me if I need a job to which I reply, "No thank you, I have a job". The man then asks me if I have any friends who are looking for a job, and if I will follow him to his store to view his merchandise. I again tell him "no", but agree to go to his store (I said I was in a curios mood). We turn the corner towards 6th Avenue and end up in the ever so redundant Jewish Jewelry district. I follow him into a brightly lit store, where millions of dollars worth of jewelry sparkle underneath the fluorescent lights. After showing me to his booth, he then says he would like to talk to me and leads me across the street to a small cafe. Once inside the cafe he begins to tell me a story about a friend of his who is a black doctor, and advised him that no good would come to him unless he had "a good time" with a black woman. He then continues to tell me that I am beautiful and "clean", and that he has "never spoken to a black woman before in his life". He wants me to be his "friend" and he will pay me hundreds of dollars to work at his store too. Of course he took the time to inform me that he never picks up women off the street, especially black women, because he is a Jewish man and shouldn't be seen out like that. However, an exception was made for me because I looked "clean", beautiful, and he had seen me around before. He begs me "please" to be with him, while I just press the repeat button on my brain and tell him "I'm happy at my job and in general".

After the spell of disbelief rubs off me, I snatch my hands away from him and tell him "sorry", while placing my hood back on and exiting right. I still don't know what to say about this experience, so instead I write...

8/16/06

2008-11-22T16:55:00.000-05:00

People want to know why....

I consider myself to be an open book. It's not that I walk around offering up details about my current life or past, but if someone asks me I definitely don't see a reason to hold back. I would have to say that I personally have tenements of life I made for myself to abide by, and the first one is to always be truthful with myself foremost, as well as others. Society has always had a love/hate relationship with the truth. While most people claim to want the truth, they simply can't stomach it. There are a couple of figures in the media I feel are for the most part very honest about their lives: Augusten Burroughs (his books are empowering), Drew Barrymore (her drug use and family drama are things people usually hide), and Christina Aguilera (track titled "Still Dirrty" on her new LP).

Usually when I open up about things of my past, people tend to look aghast and wonder aloud why/who/when/how? I always say that your past only determines a small amount of your future. In my case, life doesn't seem to be getting much better so my past dictates my attitudes toward my current standing in the universe. Perfect example would be the reason behind why i'm so strong, independent, and on this "I don't need humans" kick.

I hate asking people for anything, needing people, or even wanting the opinions of others. I have never in all my life been able to rely on a single sole on this planet. People have always been a constant disappointment to me, leaving me to always fend for myself. I have been my best supporter, best adviser, best friend, an overall rock to myself. Just recently I completed a new photo shoot of over 300 shots, and I was overwhelmed by all the different looks. Normally in the business, your agent or someone with a professional photographic eye goes over your proofs and tells you which ones look best to get printed up for your headshots. Since my agent here has been giving me the runaround, I decided to let down my stance, and ask some of my friends & contacts for their help. This whole process started 3 weeks ago, to this day I have only 1 reply from this agent I sent my stuff to (who says they don't have the time to look at them), and that's it! No one else had even bothered to reply to my numerous e-mails for help. This is not some frivolous request for compliments, this is my fucking career we're talking about. This thing i've sacrificed so much to attain, and all those people who claim they like and/or love me can't seem to find it in their hearts to assist me with this one thing.
So people want to know why i'm so hardened, why i'm so strong, why i'm so on my own, it's because people made me this way. So as I sit here pouring over the hundreds of pictures of myself, it builds up anger, resentment, and strength inside of me. To be a even stronger woman than I already am (which I didn't believe to be possible). It is what it is....

There's a saying that goes "I don't need sex, life fucks me whenever it can".

8/14/06

2008-11-22T16:54:00.000-05:00

Soooo lately i've been incredibly MIA from my online journal community and answering my telephone. Regarding the telephone all I can really say is i've never been much of a phone chatter person. I enjoy a rousing conversation just like the next lass, only I prefer it to be in person, via text message, or e-mail. As for the online journal thing, I sometimes feel like my inner thoughts would no doubt clog the server, as they are numerous and ever-rambling in their nature. I've been in New York for one year now, so to all the naysayers I wish you were here to see my stick out my tongue and say nanananana!!!

The question is do I want to be here? I will sacrifice life and limb (figuratively) in the pursuit of my desired career, which in actuality is the pursuit of happiness. Moving to New York was purely a move of necessity of that nature. Not to say I don't enjoy the constant partying, (I am only now on a self-induced chill period until the city fills back in from the summer vacaters), the public transportation, the variety of people (i've recently dated a South Afrikkan and a boy from Spain), and lots of other things the island has to offer. However, I know I will not live here late into adulthood. I can not imagine having to live in this filth for the rest of my life. No one in this city is the least bit environmentally conscience, I swear! But I won't delve any deeper into that subject, as I will be on this keyboard of mine all night.

I've been doing this "dating" thing here too, and let me tell you its nothing like Carrie saw it to be. Men suck through and through. I even ventured to date someone who is 30, and he still couldn't pretend to have his shit together (often times sleeping in hungover and missing class). Boys who work for Fortune 500 companies, come from solid families, earn lots of money, got great grades in school, none of these things mattered. Truth of it is MOST MEN STILL HAVEN'T STOPPED SUCKING ON THE TEET, OR WANT A WOMAN WHO WILL PROVIDE A NEW TEET FOR THEM TO PLACE THERE MOUTH ON!!!
That's just my opinion...and if you ask me these type of men aren't worth the long-distance relationship effort (if you don't live in Manhattan, its long distance), you have to invest in the union.

So that's what's going on with me right now, nothing much. I'm on my way out to hear a up-and-coming singer in the village, while downing over-priced drinks (which will hopefully be bought by some hapless dud). Toodles!

6/15/06

2008-11-22T16:53:00.000-05:00

So today after sleeping off a nice amount of flavored martini's from the previous night, I had the recurring dream of shopping at my favorite department store Nordstrom. This dream of mine has remained unfilled since moving here to NYC last August, mainly because of what I can only deem a hostile takeover by the "world's largest Macy's" and the 3 B's (Bergdorf, Barney's, and Bloomie's), not to mention Sak's, Lord & Taylor, and every other store in the free world all on this 13 mile piece of land!!! With that said, I decided today was the day for me to leave the island, and go the distance for my love. A search for stores in New York only returned 3 locations, all somewhere on the way to Long Island, or another place equally foreign to me. I tried neighboring states, and found that New Jersey had a few locations that might interest me, and be somewhat local on public transportation. After conducting exhaustive research on my journey, I decided to head off to the Short Hills mall (Paramus was closed; to which I say what mall is closed on Sunday?) Filled with excitement I headed downtown to Port Authority, for what I thought would be a blissful day of re-acquainting myself with a lost love.
Upon my arrival to Port Authority armed with a Metro Card and internet directions to the mall, I was surprised to find out I still needed more info to get to my bus. I began my search for a information desk only to find each one equipped with a sign that read " please visit our other location". Thoroughly frustrated after going through this rat race, I visited the police department in search of assistance. I was lucky to find a man who walked me to the ticket booths, and then walked me to the terminal. When I got to the terminal being as inquisitive as I am, I asked the bus man a few questions about the route. I was advised that 1) the buses ran every hour, 2) there was no such thing as a transfer, and a second fare would be paid, and 3) there was a Nordstrom in Wayne, NJ. My mind began thinking about other routes into NJ, so I went to visit the info booth. At the booth I found a woman who I figured hated her job, and probably used to work at the DMV, solely based on her attitude. Diva cut me off when I spoke,used a condescending tone, and sent me off with the same amount of info I approached her with. Thouroughly dismissed, I retreated to my bus gate and waited the dreaded 60 minutes until the bus arrived. On the bus ride over my confidence resurged, and I told myself I was an excellent researcher with no need for doubts.
When we arrived at my first stop I exited the bus in the small town of Springfield, NJ. I made my way over to my next bus stop cozily situated in front of a few mom & pop businesses. Eventually my patience got the best of me, and I began to ask the locals questions. I asked a nice restaurant owner if the mall was in walking distance, and he says I can certainly walk.
* Please note in an effort to save the vision of many people who will read this, I will truncate my story from this point on... if you want the un-edited version please look for my novel many years from now)
So basically I end up walking miles and miles by myself in the heat, on the sidewalk, then on the highway (there was no shoulder, just me, pavement, woodiness, and several really fast cars) until I meet a man who is doing some gardening. I ask the man how to get to the mall, to which he replies its about 4 more miles straight ahead. I continue my walk of death/desperation, when I notice a SUV slowing down behind me. I immediately think I am about to be kidnapped all in the name of fashion, when the man who had just given me directions (who by the way was crazy rich, and insanely gay) offered me a ride. Please believe I took several moments trying to rationalize my getting into a stranger's vehicle, but at that point I felt I had been through enough, and there was nothing that could stop me from reaching Mt. Nordstrom! Needless to say, I made it safely to the mall, we exchanged info, and he warned me about the dangers of walking on the highway by myself. I told him the next time he was in the city to give me a call, and i'd give hime the best table in the house.
Let me just sum up the ride back home to NY: 1 NJ bus, 1 NJ Transit train, 1 NJ Path Train, 1 NYC Subway, and 1 NYC Bus!!!!! WTF, if I don't deserve some sort of fashionista award, who does?

5/4/06

2008-11-22T16:52:00.000-05:00

Sex is not me, and I am not Sex!

I know that we human beings are sexual creatures, as most animals that God created under the sun are. We are the most intelligent species and can choose between right and wrong, good and bad, and physical versus emotional feelings. I am a 24 year old woman, I'm beautiful, intelligent, doting, honest, and love to have a good time. It is by nature that I would possess hormones that make for strong sexual desires, therefore driving me to want to mate. However, it is also by nature that I use the brain which I was given to decide what's best for me now, and in the long run. I am not sexually active right now, and have not been for the past 2 years. Yes, you read correctly 2 years! Contrary to that dirty little thought that just crossed your mind, no I am not climbing the walls with "randiness", or picturing every man that I see naked. I actually am quite content with being celibate/abstinent. Why I choose to be celibate/abstinent is because I simply need more than sex. It is to my belief that my need for general companionship (i.e. laughter, movies, dinner, video games, walks, talks, etc..) plus physical intimacy, is one that is much greater than to simply settle for sex alone. I'm not saying that I need or even want a boyfriend, I just want to know that after we roll away from each other I have the option of calling you to hang out, and not just to bend me up for a few minutes.
This is not my first foray into "celibacy", I have been without 1.5 years here, 7 months there, 1 month here, until I met a guy who I could at least have varying degrees of verbal enjoyment with. I have no problems getting a man to sleep with me; come on does any woman really? I'm just a very headstrong, tenacious, go-getter who doesn't believe in settling for less, especially when I know that more does exist. Sure there are those that rib me for my lack of "getting any", or say that "i'm fronting" about my lack of desire. To them I say ha! Simply not true. Most of those people are the same ones who are miserable and alone, even though they have a fuck-buddy or two. Unfortunately, the only tv example of a woman like myself that I can give is Charlotte from SATC. There was an episode about her lack of interest in sex, one about her holding out for something more, one about her willing to try the "sex-only" thing and not being happy, all examples of me. Ask anyone who knows me and they'll tell you I do exactly what I want or don't want to do in life. I don't try to step on toes, but I go for happiness. And right now, happiness for me in my intimate life is being without a simple sex partner.

3/2/06

2008-11-22T16:50:00.000-05:00

I Miss Reading...

So I've been in New York now for 7months!!! I can't believe how the time has flew by. I must say that I've been extremely busy, but utilizing my time to the best of my ability. I've been so busy in fact, that I haven't had the time to indulge in one of my favorite activities: reading. I miss sitting down with a good book, a glass of wine, and beginning and ending an adventure all in 2 days. So, I've proposed to scale back on going into the office so much, and re-stimulate my mind. First stop, Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin.

1/25/06

2008-11-22T16:49:00.000-05:00

I've always loved music, more than water and air at times. I've always LOVED the piano and longed to play it, even still today. Growing up in a very repressed "home" I wasn't allowed to partake in the things that bought happiness to my soul. To make a very long story very short, I sometimes wish that I could be granted a whole new life from the moment of conception. There are so many things that I find no familiarity with that my peers speak of fondly from our childhoods. Although I'm all about not living in the past, I sometimes can't help but wonder what life may have been if...... I was welcomed into this world with warmth and love, I was able to snuggle up to my father for security, I was given positive reinforcements for a job well done; and chided with love when I misbehaved. If someone had held my hand when things were hard, taught me to ride a bike, skate, or embraced my love for school. If my mother had actually been receptive to the life which she bore into this world, would my life be any different?
At my old age, I only think of these things when reminded by a outside influence such as tv, friend's relationships with their families, or in this case music. Thanks to modern technology, I finally found out the name and author of one of my favorite songs of all time. I don't know why I love it so much because it pierces my soul to hear it... When I hear this song it makes me think this will always be the song of my life, the one that's played at my funeral. The crazy thing is, the context in which it was written doesn't even apply to me. In the song the man speaks of his love for a woman that he's done wrong. Its a humble apology/explanation of his actions towards her. When I hear it, its only a reminder of the emptiness that created me. Its a sullen reminder of the broken heart I was born with. I still love it though; so thank you Donny Hathaway for "A Song For You".

1/20/06

2008-11-22T16:48:00.000-05:00

So today I decided to get up early (despite having consumed many spirited beverages last night), and do the most dreaded outside chore of all: grocery shopping. The only reason I conceded to defeat and actually made the trek to the local Pathmark, came from my steady in-house diet of Lucky Charms and Saltines. Earlier during the week as I was eating my 2nd bowl of cold cereal, the thought occurred to me that it just might be alright to dine-in every now and then. With that said, I chose to visit a supermarket I had never shopped at, merely a few blocks from my home.

Being that I'm still a newbie here in New York, I'm continuously making an effort to get better acquainted with my neighborhood. I haven't lived in a all Black community since I attended an all black university, in an almost all black city. Its always at the very least touching, to see the kaleidoscope of smooth browns, textured curls, and the allegiant elders, all make their way across the boulevards of Harlem.

Today was a little unlike any other though... I hopped on the 8th Avenue bus in an effort to save myself some meaningless exercise, and my life unknown flashed before my eyes. Somewhere along my route two extremely elderly women boarded the bus, and it was looking into a mirror of forth comings. The two were African-American, and at least in their 70's, if not older. One of the women was a little more spry than her friend, but they made their way to the designated front of the bus seats. One of the women had a rip on the top of her shoe, (for imagination's sake we'll call her Sue) and it appeared she suffered from a moderate case of osteoporosis (or lack of good posture in her prime years). After looking at Sue and her friend in the most inconspicuous way possible, I felt an unusual desire to cry. I think it was because I saw Sue as this poor, older woman, who needed someone(of course, NO I was not on the bus sobbing). Needless to say, I was more than overjoyed to get off the bus and end my self-imposed misery, so much so I exited the bus 1 stop early.

Inside the grocers I was quickly able to shake my most recent memory, after 1 look at the newest circular (talk about sensory overload!). I made way down aisle after aisle hoping that something would just jump into my cart, making the process a little bit easier for me, but to no avail. As I made my way to my favorite area (the meat section of course), my damn future jumped up and bit me in the ass again!!! Who do you think was waiting for me at the skirt steak section, Sue and her friend. Except this picture that was before me, was even sadder than the first. Sue's spry friend, was helping her do all of her shopping. It was the most touching thing ever to watch Sue's friend bend over and reach for things her less agile comrade couldn't. Through it all though, Sue still kept up conversation and smiled when the mood struck. I made every effort possible to avoid them the rest of my shopping trip, but couldn't. Even at the ice cream freezers, Sue and her friend were reaching for goodies as I reached for mine.

Now I know you're wondering what's the point to this whole post of mine? I'm afraid of becoming Sue one day. I can't imagine actually having to lean on someone for my basic survival in life. I have a hard time letting suitors buy me things, much less actually take care of me. This is most frightening however, because the jury's still out on whether or not I want to get married some day. It was like a real-life visit from the ghost of my unforeseen future. Of course now because of my spooky day, I must immerse myself in all things considered "youthful". Debauchery anyone?

1/3/06

2008-11-22T16:47:00.000-05:00

My recent delving into an antihistamine treatment is wearing me out. The constant drowsiness is followed by a day full of absent-minded, bumbling, mumbo-jumbo, with me trying to remember how to put a subject and predicate together. The sudden onset of hives was the reason for the doctor's advice to take the devil's little pills. New Year's Eve exploration of Scotch wasn't so wise either. Now i'm sitting here at work watching Lifetime, wishing I could flop down in my ultra-comfortable hamster cage.

12/16/05

2008-11-22T16:46:00.000-05:00

So last night was like a magical night from a defunct Disney movie, only without the artificial joy and obvious family innuendo. It all started with the buzz around NYC about the possibility of a transit strike, and a "deep-freeze" all by the deadline of midnight Thursday/Friday. So everyone at my job was on edge from the fear of being stranded at home, with no way to go in and earn any income. I was on edge because I have no idea what a "big-freeze" is, but I knew I was not prepared for one. So with all this going on, you think I should have known better than to go out, and took my ass home after work. Instead I decided to go out with a friend to a few places near my job or what not.....
The first place we go to is basic borderline lame. I am 1 of 3 black people in the whole place (which of course doesn't make it lame) , it just seems odd because this is New York. The music is ok, but one of the security guys keeps giving us free drinks so I'm ok with staying a bit. I'd say within 15 minutes of settling in the hunt (apparently for me) was on. The most obscure guys who seemed like we would never speak to each other were standing around staring at me, slowly making their way over to ask me to dance, and to make small talk. Literally one guy after another of the same "genre". I politely excused myself time after time to go to the bar to get away, I guess this wasn't the smartest choice for what lie ahead at the bar was far more dangerous than giving out a little convo. At the bar a man who stood about 6'4" 250-275 lbs. proceeds to begin yelling down at me, bulging his eyes and shaking his head, in a drunken stupor. As I try to walk away from him he grabs my arm with such a force that i'm stopped in my tracks, and have to turn around to look at him. I shot him a "Medea-Worthy" look, shoved him in the chest, and jerked myself out of his hands to walk away. I've never been grabbed like this before, so we leave this dreadful place. (I must point out that there was a strip club connected to this club, and a lot of people would come and go as they pleased between the 2; yet another red sign ignored by me)
On to the second club were things seemed better at first, but I was soon reminded that this was after all "Freaky Thursday". We enter the spot, proceed to coat check, then go to freshen up in the mirror. While entering the bathroom a girl smiles, waves, and (brace yourself) grabs my goodies; and no not the mountains, the valley!!!!!!! I was so shocked I didn't know what to do. I grabbed her hand, twisted her wrist, and pushed her away from me. To which she responded with a laugh, and a vulgar flicker of her double-pierced tongue. I can not believe my fucking luck!!!!!! After this I actually stay, only to be harped on by quite a few undesirable candidates. I'm not even going to go into further details, let's just say by the end of the night all I could think about doing was taking a long, hot, shower to wash off whatever scent I put out that night!
So now i'm preparing to do another Friday night out to attempt yesterday's wrong. Wish me luck.....

12/11/05

2008-11-22T16:45:00.000-05:00

So I've been soooo busy these past few weeks, I haven't been to the grocery store in over a month. First off, I completed my first 2 fashion shows. I had a show at the famous club Crobar, and I had a show at the famous Joe's Pub. I received a lot of praise, and even made a possible connection for future work in the industry. Meanwhile, the first major snow of the season occurred, and I was blindsided!!! I had a coat and some leggings, but my body was not prepared for cold gusts of wind to come swinging at me from all sides. I of course got sick, but should be better as soon as I break down and buy a bottle of $6 cough syrup (from which if the manufacturer is correct, i'll only use half because of its high potency). I've been working non-stop, sometimes 6 days a week to try to keep up with this expensive city I live in. On the flipside my social life is burgeoning too. I've been out to so many bars and clubs, I can't even remember all the names ( i did see wee little Lindsay Lohan this Thursday at Marquee). I love going out late, and getting home even later. My roommates and I get along gloriously so far, and we even understand each others little intricacies. So to sum things up i'm content in life right now, and working vigorously towards a supreme happiness.
Ciao for Now =)
Oh- R.I.P. Richard Pryor, he was truly one of the funniest people i've ever seen

11/30/05

2008-11-22T16:43:00.002-05:00

I must say I fucking love Nip/Tuck!!!!!!! It's an amazing show with great writing, actors, and direction. I'm at home sitting in the edge of my seat, holding my breath, waiting for the next fucked up thing to happen. Did anyone see last night's episode? So many different directions for each character, it was thrilling. I must say the bi-sexual doctor must be giving it to Julia, cause she's quick to give over a share of her business to him!!! Anyways, looks like they're integrating the Carver back into the plot now too, poor Kimber =(
On another note, it's no new news to me that I am somewhat of a Quaker when it comes to intimate relationships (or for you less religious folk, more of a SATC Charlotte). However, I am not judgmental towards those who are getting their freak on in a variety of ways, means, and with various people. My philosophy is to each his own... One of my close friends recently told me that she slept with another guy, while she was in her current relationship. I of course gasped (only because she seems so in love with this guy), and asked for the nitty gritty. My friend then laughed and said she felt like she was talking to her mother when she talked to me about stuff like this. I asked if she thought I was judging her, and she said definitely not, I'm just a real-life Charlotte. She then explained to me the terms of the liaison (angry at boyfriend, boyfriend out of town, 1st time rolling) and all I asked her was if she was safe. I agree I probably wouldn't have done things the way she did, but bottom line is its not me and doesn't involve me.
All of my friends tell me their most dirty secrets, and I have never told any of them what not to do or vice versa (unless of course they ask). So to all my fellow Charlotte girls, you can keep being you without judging others.

11/11/05

2008-11-22T16:43:00.001-05:00

So to sum up what could potentially be a really long negative rant about how much my birthday sucked balls this year.......No one at my job (all 3 employees) wished me a happy birthday, I had to take myself to lunch (at a very expensive restaurant might I add), no one wanted to hang out on the actual day because it was a Tuesday, I got no birthday gifts from friends I bought gifts for (even when I didn't have the money), I didn't get to go to the club/bar I wanted to, I had to pay to get into some overcrowded sweat-box where I couldn't even do anything but stand in the same spot all night, and just in case you were wondering the weekend of my b-day sucked too. I didn't get to be drowned in free drinks by my friends because a) I was at the sweat-box and b) no one bought me a drink. So to say the least, I shall never give another birthday gift, dinner, lunch, or even card to anyone who will not reciprocate such care and consideration!!!
On another note- the thing that made me feel most special on my birthday this year was not the call from the "ex", but the gift from my friend Sarah all the way in L.A., who in spite of all her Judaic commitments all through the month of October, still managed to do more than a obligatory phone call, and actually sent me a very nice, thoughtful gift. So Thank You Sarah!!!!!

11/6/05

2008-11-22T16:42:00.000-05:00

Let me start off by saying I wish I could believe that race is nothing more than a sociological construct, as so many of our ignorant "scholars" project..... I recently moved to Harlem, the birthplace of the Black uprising in the North-East post-antebellum America, only to be confronted by a few stereotypes that haunt our culture even in 2005. It is my belief that we in "America the Beautiful" live in a caste society; granted not one as restrictive as the Indian & Hindu, but a burgeoning one nevertheless.
In my first 2 months here in New York I mainly stayed in the "good" areas like UWS, Gramercy Park, Flatiron, and places where people lived with similar incomes. I had no problems moving to Harlem seeing as though I was raised in the projects the first 7 years of my life, and don't feel as though any living experience could be worse than that. However, I did not know I would be treated like a prosecuted criminal, although I have no police record to speak of. Every store I went in on the UWS, or one of the other comparable neighborhoods I listed to shop, I was NEVER asked to leave my belongings at the door. There were times I had huge duffel bags and backpacks with me when I went in a store, and not once was I asked to relinquish them in order to continue my shopping experience at that retailer. In Harlem its a completely different story. Every single store I go into (even the supermarkets) I have to surrender my belongings to some un-qualified "security" figure, before I'm allowed to peruse the under-stocked, over-priced, establishment. Every time I enter a store in Harlem, I feel like i'm being reminded of some probation stipulation I'm prone to breaking, or that i'm black, therefore poor, and therefore guaranteed to be a thief.
When I ask the saleslady (a latina) what she thinks of this policy, she comments "it's fine, they do it to everybody". IT IS NOT FINE. The only "everybody" they do it to are people who live in the community...and since its Harlem guess who lives in the community? Black and Brown people alike are subjected to this insulting practice because we are the people who live over here. It is in my experience that if you sit down quietly and accept what's handed to you without even questioning the reasons behind it, people will dish out anything to you; as long as you're willing to accept it. I firmly believe this is one of those instances where if all the black and brown people of my community mobilized together to demand this practice be stopped, we would see results. After all, we are the only customers they have, and without us they would go under very, very, quickly. I know that the reason that this isin't done in those "good" neighborhoods isin't because White people don't steal, its because they won't allow it. I guarantee if they tried to enforce this practice in Gramercy Park, there would be a strong outcry from the community, and they would stop at nothing to end this policy.
I know you're supposed to pick your battles wisely, but it doesn't have to be a battle. Why are we not given the same respect as people of other races, or income levels? Why is it we believe that it happens to "everybody" as the girl stated, and therefore its ok? Why is it today we are so apathetic to what troubles our race, when just as recent as 40 years ago our ancestors were being hosed and clubbed to death to fight those injustices? I wouldn't have a problem with the practice if it were done in every neighborhood; if when I went to Park Avenue South they took my bags at the door to Morton Williams. I know that I seem crazy as a betsy bug when issues like these raise my ire, but i'm just passionate about living in a better world; starting here at home by making my country a better place for African-Americans to live.

10/21/05

2008-11-22T16:41:00.000-05:00

Puffed Cheetos, Lemonheads, and Visions of Yellow & Red......

So people who really know me know that I try to be a socially conscious person, and for that reason I do not support a couple of companies through direct patronage: McDonalds, Home Depot, KFC, Wal Mart, and now DHL.
Although my reasons for adding DHL are not socially motivated, my experience with them evoked similar feelings of anger & frustration. First they failed to continuously update their tracking page, as claimed on their website. Second, they failed to deliver on time. Third, they failed to deliver all of my packages on their "second attempt". Fourth, they put my delicate computer packages back on a truck only to drive them around Manhattan, without an actual delivery attempt. And last, but most painful, was the delivery of my computer to me in a box that can only be described as maltreated. My new Dell monitor was broken..... ( I think I cried internally, I was just to thirsty to let actual tears fall). So now i'm without my beloved Dellie Dell until I buy another monitor. Now because my birthday is coming up (11 days), I was offered the monitor as a "replacement gift" from my birthday registry list. I now have to admit this caused the inner "Princess" to come out, as I protested I did not want a monitor to be a gift of mine, instead of my passport fees. Nevertheless, the following day I relented as I did not wish to seem like a unaccommodating brat. So to DHL I said "Off with their heads", and I accepted the very adult a.k.a. lame gift of a pc monitor.
In dealing with copious amounts of stress, I usually like to take the sauvignon route as a way to block out my tendency to over-think. However, because I just moved I have no wine glasses and I refuse to drink a fine red out of a tea cup. So i've taken a liking to stuffing myself with food that lacks any semblance of a nutritious find. Puffed Cheetos, Lemonheads, and Dr. Brown's pop's, are not things I should be starting my day with (bows head in shame). So for this reason I vow to make the most of my remaining weeks at my gym. I promise to stretch, lift, spin and bend as much as one my size can handle. (Just as soon as I finish the rest of these Doritos)

10/12/05

2008-11-22T16:40:00.000-05:00

Moving Up Like George and Weezy!

So I finally got my feet planted here in New York, I moved into my own place this weekend. The best part is I stay in the city (Manhattan) my house is spectacularly clean (no more roaches, and I haven't seen mice or rats outside either), and I only pay $400 a month rent (utilities included), and I stay below 145th street!!!! So HA! to all the naysayers who bitch about not being able to find space in NYC for cheap that's clean. I met the super and he seems nice too. He told me to ask him for anything I need help with. You have no idea how much clearer my psyche is now that I know I can shower without the roaches all up in my business, I can cook without the roaches,dirt, and hair all around me. No more 5th floor walk up, as I live on the first floor. I wake up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, and I don't have to wait until the roaches finish their turn. I bought a bed, curtains, sconces, rug, and some egyptian sheets. My pc is being shipped to me this week, so all I need now is a tv, pc desk, cable, and i'll be good to go.
My jobs are going well too. I like my night job, its so independent. I just come in do my thang, and bounce when i'm done. The only thing that makes me think about not going to work is the weather. It is cold and rainy here right now ,it looks like Noah is on his way back or something. But once I get some rubber boots, thermal cup for my green tea, and some gloves i'll be aiighht.
I'm back on this Friendster kick now. My ex-roommate here asked me if I was on one night, and I told him yeah. I went to look at my neglected page, and I felt this strong instinct to make an effort on the damn thing .

9/16/05

2008-11-22T16:39:00.000-05:00

My Acension from Los Angeles Into New York

Soooooo, I've been in NYC for exactly 1.5 months today. A whole lot has happened since then, so much it makes me tired to re-hash it in my brain so here's the Undergraduate Cliff-Notes version of things:
I moved to New York via United Airlines with 6 oversized pieces of luggage, experiencing 1 flight delay, on an overnight flight, before which I smoked the second and third cigarettes of my life, on one of the hottest days of the summer. The day I arrived I carried those 6 pieces of my life up a 5-story walk-up, and then ran off to an audition. I found an interim sublet within my first week for $375 in the city (yes, on the island of Manhattan), only to find out the girl wanted 3 months security deposit (which was all the money I had at the time). I found a job my 2nd week here at a "famous cafe" as a waitress on the uws, but to my disappointment (and i'm sure many a customers') the place was infested with roaches; big, small, brown, and black. So of course I was like hell to the naw, and was out. My 3rd week here I found another job as a personal assistant for a rich lady on CPW (a referral of a friend), who offered me a place to stay at her apartment when she moved back to her L.A. pad. From the beginning I could sense that the lady lacked basic organizational skills, but I didn't knock her for it. It turns out 3 weeks later into the job, the lady is off her rocker. She talks in indecipherable circles about the most random shit, she doesn't know how to delegate, she reneges on her suggestion that I move in her place, she tells me I should intern to be a assistant, blah blah blah. My references told me that she was off, but I didn't listen. So like Method Man said "Keep it Moving". In between "Central Park Psycho" and my next job, was a week of temping at a production company for a office assistant. My next and current gig is at another production company where i'll be fulltime until November (I'm only working fulltime temp. so I can buy myself winter clothes, furniture, and the basics I sold/gave away back in L.A.). In the midst of all that I've been to Brooklyn a few times (Bed-Stuy, WBurg, BK Heights), go to the Bronx to get my dominican blow-outs, go to at least 1 club a week, been offered a full-time job at the 1st production company, crashing at a friend's place until my room is available on Nov. 1st, audited an acting class, joined Crunch, and become a huge fan of Cafe Mozart, hot dog vendors, and the "A" express. I still have a long way to go towards my career, but I feel very confident about the prospects that NY present. I do miss the L.A. sun, Fatburger, La Salsa, Jack In The Box, and Trader Joes, but i'll find replacements.

7/27/05

2008-11-22T16:38:00.000-05:00

Dust Fervor, Boric Acid, and Heat Rashes On the Menu

I couldn't sleep so I decided to do some more packing and cleaning. My allergies are already in a tizzy because of the "heatwave" that's here, now with all the moving and dusting they're having the time of their lives. I have soooooo much stuff. Its the little stuff I can't figure out where to stash. I already feel like i've sold the past 4 years of my life on craigslist, I don't want to let get of everything.
Honestly what got me started on my latest "OCD" binge is the recent learning of the notorious roach problem in New York. I grew up in the PJ's the first 7 years of my life with those buggers, and vowed never to subject myself to those conditions again. I understand big dirty city, lots of people, apartment living, blah blah blah, but there's got to be something that can keep them at bay. I've decided to arrive with boric acid on hand. I remember my grandmother using it, and it seemed to work rather well. I wasn't able to sleep today after hearing the word roach, and I ended up researching them online for about 2 hours!!!! (Yes i'm just that fucking worried)
That roach thing was the icing on my already burgeoning skin problems. Between the excessive dry heat here, dust, and stress, my skin is baby-sensitive. I have to give myself "powder-baths" at night to make sure my skin is coated preventing further irritation. I will def. have to seek out a dermatologist when I get to NY. I'm still not sleepy, but my headaches have increased over the past few weeks, as has my internet usage; so I think they're linked and I should chill on the computer screen gamma rays :)

7/24/05

2008-11-22T16:37:00.002-05:00

7 Days 'Till My New Destiny Begins!!!!

Only 7 days until I move to New York!!!! I am feeling so many things right now; I'm excited, stressed, curious, hopeful, anxious, too many emotions to name. I have been wanting to exit right from here so long, and finally its happening. Don't get me wrong, i'm certainly no "Small-Town Dorothy" with "Big City" dreams that New York will be one big buttered & cream-cheesed bagel filled, Sex and the City re-run. I expect the same run-of-the mill life problems for people my age, pursuing my field, living in my income bracket. I just anticipate having to live around less fictitious "characters". Los Angeles is filled with so many people trying to be things they're naturally not. Everyone here is extremely self-conscious, fake, dishonest, and self-absorbed. If you're not that great a person, I'd really like to be able to see that upfront. Talking about people behind their backs, or pretending to like those you don't simply for the possibility of them being able to do something for you is completely high-school. While in New York I hope to make GIGANTIC strides in getting somewhere in my career, meet nice people I can trust and hopefully keep for life, and just enjoy what's left of my 20's since the beginning of them have been more than forgettable.

7/17/05

2008-11-22T16:37:00.001-05:00

Not Enough Sex?

If i'm not willing to sleep with someone just because i'm physically attracted to them, and we've been out a couple of times, does that make me uptight? I've recently come to the conclusion that I am definitely more like Charlotte on SATC than anyone I know. It's not even on purpose, its just an innate response to male attention. I meet a guy and if I like him sure I think about the possibility of us being intimate, but its not a guarantee. Apparently everyone else in the free world is getting their freak on with much less thought than what I put into it. The problem is I do think it pushes men away. Men are walking egos, and it's hard for them to believe that a woman not wanting to be with them when they want it, is not truly "about them". I'm in such a pickle... I've had little high-school relationships, and 1 relationship outside of that (btw it was a completely abnormal, abusive relationship), and i've only actually dated 2 guys (all within the past year), so I guess I lack experience. I'm beginning to think this will be one of those "if you can't beat 'em join 'em" issues but, I will never compromise what I believe in. I'm thinking maybe I can exercise a little bit of flexibility in my stance, just not to the point where i'm feeling guilty or dirty about my sexual choices. I know I may sound like i'm suffering from a sickening dose of too many after-school specials but, there is a lot more to sex than people make of it.

6/26/05

2008-11-22T16:36:00.000-05:00

So i've been happier these past couple of weeks, then i've been the entire 4 years i've lived here. Settling on the decision to actually move from this hell hole, buying the ticket, giving my 30-day notice, taking on the extra job to get the money I need in time, its all been very freeing. I was so depressed here i hope I don't go into one of those "i just earned my freedom" wild tangents, and start partying frequently and engaging in extra-curricular sex with various men. I have so much to do in these next few weeks, its daunting. I have so many people to hang out with one last time, so many business transactions to complete, notices to give. I even had to cancel a trip out of town this weekend because I don't have the time to give to vacations right now.
The best part about these past couple of weeks though has been the burgeoning personal relationship between myself and my new acquaintance. I met a guy who is very special, and treats me like a princess. He's ambitious, intelligent, kind-hearted, attentive, cute, and very open and direct. I love hearing his voice, and look forward to seeing him whenever possible. Its amazing the commonalities we share, yet we still have our traits that make us opposites. I know its corny but, i looked up our compatibility on the astrology chart (both american and chinese), and we seem to be a good match :) I only hope this bliss can last these last few weeks I have left here.

6/15/05

2008-11-22T16:35:00.000-05:00

So I went to a screening and film discussion the other night in hopes of meeting John Singleton. The movie being shown was "Hustle & Flow", the film which garnered the largest bid ever at Sundance Film Festival this year. First off let me say that the film was fantastic. The writing was good, and the directing was on point. This guy Craig Brewer (writer/director) has a bright future ahead. Taryn Manning seemed to be in her element as a prostitute, and Terrence D. Howard was brilliant as ever. The panel included Stephen Farber, Stephanie Allain (producer Paramount), Taraji P. Henson (Baby Boy), and John himself. I met Taraji and she is so real. She seems just like one of those girls you grew up with if you're from one of those neighborhoods. I did get to meet John, congratulate him on his body of work, and give him my pics and resume, begging him to consider me as his next protege ala Tyrese, Ice Cube, and Taraji herself. All in all, I had a good night out by myself, and I can only hope something good can come of it :)

5/16/05

2008-11-22T16:34:00.001-05:00

Communication Breakdown

My Japanese roommate has had her friend visiting with us for about 2 weeks now. This time amount doesn't bother me, but her friend does. She is incredibly dirty. She has no sense of germs or dirt, and its not even her house. i have asked her over and over again to clean up her own messes. do not leave a sink full of dirty dishes toppling over themselves in the sink overnight, do not cook without opening the balcony door (our apt. is small, and odors stay a long time), don't stack garbage on top of itself until it spills over, and then leave it there, don't spill stuff and leave it behind to cake up, etc........ she nods her head says yes yes, and apologizes, but no real actions. its driving me crazy because i would never think of going to someone's house and dirtying it as if it were my own. i told my roommate when she moved in about my anal "monica-like" cleanliness, and she could keep her room and bath how she saw fit (as long as it didn't attract bugs), but the rest of the shared areas must be clean. i feel like she has never had experience cleaning before or something. this shit is driving me crazy.

5/8/05

2008-11-22T16:33:00.000-05:00

Hungryman's Disease

So it seems as though I can't stop eating. I went to the doc a couple of weeks ago, and she presumed (yet again) from my symptoms that I was hypoglycemic, and probably pre-diabetic because of the severity of my symptoms. However, its difficult for me to take the blood sugar test because you're not allowed to eat 12 hours before the test. I don't think I can make it 12 hours without eating, especially when my doctor is like 45 minutes away and they never see people on time. I would literally be to weak to drive down there and wait. Today alone I ate 5 times (varied size meals), and I'm still hungry but I don't have much to eat here. Here's how it goes.... I wake up i'm starving, I eat. 2 hours later i feel empty and weak i eat again, and the next 2 hours and on and on until i literally fall asleep. Right now its 11:30 i last ate at 8:30 , i'm weak, can't focus, shaking a little, and i feel like i haven't ate all day. i've been peeing all day too. i've even taken to eating these big kashi go lean bars they have 25% of your daily fiber and 20% of your daily protein, but i'm only full for a second (they make me regular). I have this feeling that I will be diabetic one day, and it will kill my spirit. I can't imagine having to manage pricking myself and shooting myself up with drugs everyday. its like my thing with sticks...I can physically drive a stick, but mentally its too much for me to do; I think. My mouth is salivating now (sign of weakness) must go eat yet again... (and i've already brushed my teeth for the night, damn it!)

4/20/05

2008-11-22T16:32:00.000-05:00

So it seems like every year, the brilliant minds in tv exec land decide to take some brilliant show that i happen to love off the air, leaving me naked without a blanket of make-believe to wrap myself in. The last few thefts were Sex and the City, Friends, Family Guy (its back though), Soul Food, and some other shit I can't even remember now. I've searched high and low for quality shows I wouldn't feel ashamed for watching since their dearly departure, but have come up kind of short. I've fell into a hole of "reality television" which is exactly what the exec's wanted. My guilty list includes: Amazing Race, The Apprentice, Americas Next Top Model, Making the Band, Real World, RW/RR Challenge, Road to Stardom, College Hill 2, and rarely Bachelor (the guy is really pathetic on there). Some of them are really interesting, but some are just crap. However, in the midst of this degrading slump I did find a gem that I am very proud of. GILMORE GIRLS!!!!!!! I love the Gilmore Girls. I can't go without seeing it. I haven't seen any of the recent episodes on the WB, but i'm watching the syndication on ABC family everyday, and like Justin Timberlake said, "I'm Loving It". This is my new favorite show. I would be so crushed if they took it if the air. There I got it off my chest, go ahead fire :)

4/12/05

2008-11-22T16:31:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I wish I weren't such an Amelia Bedelia....

Ever since I was child i've been super investigative about EVERYTHING. From making a trip to the library when I was 5 to find out what dirty things the cereal company was putting in my Cheerios (btw those dirty things turned out to be vitamins and nutrients in the form of Niancin, Riboflavin, etc...), to researching my own eczema when the doctor diagnosed me with a "severe" case of it when I was 9. Be that as it may while I was in New York last month a friend of mine informed me of a rumor she heard about my favorite magazine going bust. I put the rumor aside for the moment, but couldn't completely let go of the idea. So now i'm at home thinking about what magazines i'll buy this month ( I usually buy between 3-5), and it dawns on me that I haven't received my subscription of my yet. So, I did what i do for everything; I researched my love, and much to my dismay the rumor was true : SUEDE MAGAZINE IS OVER!!!!!!!! According to the original press release they are "on hiatus", but in magazine world that means finito. I finally fell in love with a black publication which I felt appropriately embodied a terrific sample of black creativity, and they're taking it away. I hate when black people try to do something positive and they're shot down. I'm so sad. Now I have to continue to read my colorless magazines without the support of Suede. My favorite magazine isin't even from this country, and it costs me double to buy it over here!!!! First the Fat Boys break up, now this!

4/3/05

2008-11-22T16:30:00.000-05:00

So it's that time of the year were traditionally, we have been prompted to clean out our houses, and rid ourselves of dirt, grime, and things we simply don't need. Seeing as though i'm extremely clean on an everyday basis, I have decided to use this time to clean out my social life. I have a very stressful life due to personal choices ( pursuing a career in the arts, working p-t), and it seems due to people in my life who just seem to annoy the fuck out of me (and not in a way that I can manage from time to time). So, I am taking it upon myself to rid my life of them. My biggest release will be that of the source of my unrequited affection for a little over a year now. I deleted his e-mails, his phone number, his everything. It had to be done and neither one of us could seem to let go before, so I'll do the honors and start the snipping away. Secondly, people who are in my life who don't believe in my abilities, and look down on me for the choices I make. I do exactly what I want to do in life, i'm free. I don't work 9-5, I don't answer to parents, I don't live for a man, I do what I damn well please. If those around me think I should be doing otherwise, and can't help but to comment about it endlessly, then off with their heads!!! (metaphorically speaking of course). I am a good person (actually better than good considering I pray for others, and will give away my last dime), I'm honest (some would say too much), I work hard, I'm empathetic, I'm intelligent, and I know when enough is enough. So to that I say enough! I can't wait for summer to get here.

3/5/05

2008-11-22T16:27:00.000-05:00

random thoughts of course

so i went to new york and it was great as usual. even through all of the snow and dirt, it still was 10x's better than los angeles. i love public transportation when its well built and convenient. i love being out on the town late into the night, early into the next morning. it reminded me of my college days in atlanta, where the marta was remarkably good, and the city went to sleep at around 6am. i love soho, and michael k is one of my favorite shops. unfortunately, i again couldn't find my most desired buy in my size while there, and was outbid for them on ebay. i am scratching and searching for the puma schattenboxen boxing shoe/boot in a size 8, and have had no luck at all. i really love the upper westside, and would die to live there. i know i can't afford it though :(
now back in town i'm a little more even-minded because of my short excursion, but i'm sure that cloud of depression that comes from being here will rear its ugly head again. 1 of my branches of l.a. depression seems to have a sixth sense or something. i keep trying to talk to them to tell them about my desire to no longer associate myself with them, but they keep putting me off. its either that, or they're extremely rude and inconsiderate. all i ask is that people communicate effectively. if someone calls you, return their call that same day. if you can't actually call, then text msg, or e-mail them. never think its okay to call someone back days later. i digress...... its killing me to not be able to just get this off my chest already.

2/20/05

2008-11-22T16:26:00.000-05:00

Always Something

So my roommate is cool, especially considering the ones i've had before, and we get along fine. However, there has been this one recurring issue that is bothering the hell out of me now. When she came to interview for the place we talked for like 2 hours that day, and during that talk I told her of the house ways & means if you will. I told her about my level of cleanliness, and how shoes weren't worn inside the house. One reason being the carpet is really light colored, and I hate living in a place with stained carpet throughout. Secondly (but even more importantly) I simply don't agree with wearing shoes inside a carpeted home. I hate the idea of germs, dirt, grime, mud, and all outside elements being ground into the carpet in the house I dwell in everyday. Roommate never had any objections to this, and even said she understood where I was coming from. When she moved in at first she was taking her shoes off, but after a few weeks I noticed she would be all over the house in her shoes. So, I e-mailed her (explaining in the e-mail why I didn't simply approach her because of how strong I come off when you don't know me) just asking her to please remember about the shoes in the house. She agreed, and said that she had forgot about it altogether. Now like 2-3 months later she's doing it again. Cali's having a hell of a rainy season this year. Its crazy nasty here. She's even had non of her guests take their shoes off. One day a male guest of hers wore wet, muddy timb's in the house!!!!! I addressed the shoe issue again, and now she has an attitude. She's not speaking to me (lol), and she stays in her room. This isin't the first time she copped attitude when I asked her about something. I do all, everything pertaining to bills in the house. I collect payment, and mail them out. I spend money on stamps for all this. She never does anything but put the check on the fridge. this month i was really busy so i put the stamped envelope and my check on the fridge for her to send off. she only placed her check on the fridge and didn't bother to mail anything off. as a result the bill was late. when i asked her to write a check she had forgot to write out, she slammed down her laptop, huffed real loud, and snatched the bill of the fridge to look at it. I laughed at her, and asked her if there was a problem. she then went on to say she didn't understand the confusion with the bills. that's when i told her if she wanted to she could do all the bills herself, instead of relying on me to do everything. to that she had no comment..... I hope she can get with the shoe thing if not, she's had plenty of time to speak up about it. the way i see it, she figured she would just do what she wants in that respect, and i wouldn't bother saying anything to her about it. to me that's disrespectful. its like she doesn't respect my comfort level. (excuse the poor spelling and grammar)

2/6/05

2008-11-22T16:25:00.000-05:00

Realization that my 20's may not be all that

So I moved here to finish up my last year of undergrad when I was 19, and turned 20 a few months after that. I realized today that I have not had an actual "boyfriend" (title, commitment, etc.) at any point in my 20's. I am 23 (will be 24 end of the year) and have not had a boyfriend at all this era. I haven't even had any potentials. I don't know what the problem is. I thought your 20's were supposed to be the times when you dated around, sought what was out there to be with. I feel that it will be this way for a very long time. I don't see myself meeting anyone, anytime soon.

2/2/05

2008-11-22T16:24:00.000-05:00

So last week my toilet wasn't flushing properly, and all the water was rushing up to the top when I attempted to flush, so I went and told the apt. manager. He told me to fill out a maintenance request form so a maintenance man could come out and look at it. As I finished up the form he told me he would come take a look at it (once he got the call he had been waiting on in the office). I said ok , and went on about my business. As I was leaving my apt. I saw him going into mine, and I asked him to be sure to wipe off his feet (it was raining), and lock my door when he left. I returned to my apt. later and when I walked into my bathroom things were different. The carpet on my bedroom floor leading into the bathroom was soaking, my bath rugs were thrown in the tub, and there was water in the corners behind my toilet. I called the manager to ask him what went on, and he said I plunged your toilet. I asked him about the water and he says water ran-over on the floor and rugs. I asked why he didn't leave a note about it (I hate germs), and his reply was "It was clear water, nothing else spilt over". What the fuck do you mean clear, it came from a toilet!!!!! Do you drink water from a toilet simply because its clear? So them I asked him about replacing my rugs, and he says "it's not my fault your toilet was clogged, you shouldn't have been playing around in the back of it" Again, wtf? Me, HUGE germ-a-phobe playing around in the back of a filthy toilet, nigga please. I couldn't believe his incredulous attitude towards ruining my private property. So I did what I do best when I don't feel like arguing, I went above his head. I called the management office (people who own the building), and told them the situation. They promptly compensated me for my rugs, and apologized. So today (rent day) I go to pay my rent and the apt. manager tells me "don't ever ask me to go fix something in your apt. again", since I was already agitated with other shit today, I kind of let loose on his ass. I set him straight on the facts of me never, ever, asking him to enter my apartment to do shit, nathan, nothing!!! Why the fuck would I ask a old grouchy ass hunchback to come in my apt. and fiddle with shit, when we have a team of maintenance people who can come in and do everything. This makes absolutely no sense. I told him to shut the fuck up talking to me, and be sure to stay the hell up out my shit. I hate when people get shit so wrong, logically it doesn't even seem right. He really pissed me the fuck off though

1/31/05

2008-11-22T16:23:00.000-05:00

Why people hate...

Let me just say that people hate me. From the second I was born unto this world I have always been a target of hate and despise. My own mother and father didn't want me, my grandmother felt she was burdened, schoolteachers felt like I was a show-off because I knew all the answers to most questions, church members looked down on me because of my grandmothers lies about my behavior, people just fucking hate me. Social workers told me I would never amount to anything, grandmother said I wouldn't live to be 18, and now people at Pepperdine wish to see me fail, be incomplete. They don't know that I left grad school, because I simply don't care about it. If I wanted to hold a Masters, I would lay it down how I did for my Bachelors. These racist, radical christian, white people hate to see success come through someone without them having a hand in it. Let me just say that I've done pretty fucking good for my damn self, and it will only continue to get better, so kiss my beautiful, smug, black ass :)

1/24/05

2008-11-22T16:22:00.000-05:00

So i'm maxing and relaxing at home last night, preparing to watch Desperate Housewives when I get a phone call with the area code to where I went to high school (back in Illinois). The phone stops ringing before I can answer it, and no message is left. I'm thinking who the hell could that be, who has my number? So curiosity led me to *67 then *69 the number back (too many detective shows make me this investigative). Much to my dismay, on the other end of the line was a voice that makes my guts lurch. The last ex-boyfriend I had (before I moved to Cali) was on the other end, sounding pathetic and sad. I was like "Hello", and his reply was "Happy New Year daria847" , I was like "who the hell is this" he acts as though i'm supposed to know his voice and shit. I immediately ask him what he wants, and why is he calling and bothering me. He says I was concerned about you, wanted to see how you are...WTF?!!!! Concerned about me? College educated, sarcastic, witty, strong, don't stand for shit me? The same me who left your ass alone, and moved 2000+ miles away, without so much as a phone call or e-mail? Nigga please, you need to worry about yourself. I told him those very words, and his sappy ass reply was "am i not supposed to be concerned" my answer: NIGGA NO. I then told him to not call me ever again, lose my number, and be sure to tell whoever he got my number from to lose it too. Pissed me off calling me like we have some relationship or unfinished business. I had to get hood on his ass and tell him "boy get on" :)

1/22/05

2008-11-22T16:21:00.001-05:00

I Think I'm Having a Good Day - Part Deux

Ok so yesterday was a good day. I got my one last wish (he called) and although we didn't talk, (sometimes talking can be too heavy I guess) we hung out and did our usual things together. It was so nice to see him, and know that it wasn't a result of me calling and apologizing for our last fight. I'm hoping it was the start to re-builiding our friendship back up. I really missed him, and i'm glad to know that he's not angry with me (he seemed slight with me when he called earlier during the week). So to God, I am thankful for January 21, 2005 being a very, very, very, good day!!!

1/21/05

2008-11-22T16:20:00.000-05:00

I Think It's A Good Day?

Well today I think was a good day. The reason why i'm not quite sure is because "good days" are foreign to me. I wouldn't be able to tell if I were having one, unless I was slapped in the face with it. Today I actually worked out, and the gym was empty :) I love working out alone, by myself. While I was cycling some great news scrolled across the bottom of the t.v. screen: Fcc Chairman Michael Powell resigns!!! Hooray, he is the reason t.v. and movies haven't been the same the past couple years. He's the one caused all the rawkus over the superbowl incident last year. Good riddance to him and his daddy (Colin Powell). Then I went to a audition for a agent. I went in and they loved me!!! They signed me immediately, and set me up on LA Casting , and started submitting me today. This agent is commercial/print. I was very happy with the agency, they seem empathetic to ethnic performers. Then I came home to a vm from another agency. I called them back, and they offered me a trial representation for 3 months, if at the end of the 3 months we still like each other, then we do contract. I was very excited because i've been trying to get with them for about a year now. This is a modeling/print/commercial/tv/ full service agency. 2 agents in 1 day! Then I decided to cook and made the best damn fried chicken and broccoli (for the healthy factor) i've ever had (my roommie agrees). Now i'm full and optimistic about my career, a feeling i've never had all at once. Now all I need for this day to be absolutely perfect is for him to call, and we have a honest, open, conversation. But I guess I can't be greedy.....

1/16/05

2008-11-22T16:19:00.002-05:00

What a Fucking Day

The weather for L.A. this week is low-mid 70's all the way through, and I haven't a reason to be happy about it. I have no one to enjoy it with. No one.

1/13/05

2008-11-22T16:19:00.001-05:00

I have no happiness in this world. I push and push and push, I always give my all and end up without anything to show for it. I wonder if I were evil and selfish and sinister, would I be in a better position in life. I honestly don't know why it is I awake each day to nothing. I don't deserve this, none of it. My entire life has been despair from birth I don't know why i'm here. I can't imagine things for me any lower than they are now

1/12/05

2008-11-22T16:18:00.000-05:00

Epitome

Right now I am the epitome of depression. I hate this city. I hate my new job. I hate my skin. I hate that i don't ever have enough money. I hate that i'm still in the states. I hate that i have nothing to show for the last past 3 years . I hate that i'm not getting anywhere in my career. i hate that no matter how much of a good person i am (excellent if you ask me seeimg as though i take it upon myself to pray for others every night, before i pray for myself), people treat you like shit (literally)! I hate life. i hate this fucked up thing i call life!!!

1/4/05

2008-11-22T16:17:00.000-05:00

depressed. using food to fill his place. crappy new job. not enough funds. no agent. debts to pay. no fun. no light. no cheer. no sunshine.

12/29/04

2008-11-22T16:16:00.000-05:00

Real America

This is a snippet from the "60 Minutes" airing tonight where Dave Chappelle was interviewed about his struggle to survive in tv land. This quote is the very reason why television lacks color today. Somehow, there are still people who believe that blacks aren't "the american look", when in actuality (thanks to slavery, rape, and genocide) we're more "American" than most whites.

While he was making movies, he was still creating and pitching TV sitcoms, starring himself, which is when the Fox Network called.

"I flew out there for the meeting. And if you can imagine, I was the only black person in the room, and they basically told me that, we'll pick up the show but we want more white characters on it," recalls Chappelle. "For no other reason than they thought it would give the show a more universal appeal. And so I quit."

He walked out of the room after the meeting, and he accused the network of racism. "It was racist. Look, I don't think these people sit around their house and call black people 'n-----s' and all this kind of thing," says Chappelle. "But the idea that, unless I have white people around me on my show, that it's unwatchable or doesn't have a universal appeal, is racist. You know? They don't make them put black people on 'Friends.' Or they don't make them put black people on 'Seinfeld.' But all of a sudden I get in the room, and it's like, 'Where's all the white people?'"

Thank you Dave for keeping it real.

12/26/04

2008-11-22T15:50:00.002-05:00

I Wonder...

As far back as I can remember into my young- adulthood, I have always been unlucky in love; always. I've never been with anyone on New Year's, my Birthday, Valentines Day, Christmas, or for that matter Columbus day either! I've only had a few actual boyfriends my entire life (let's just say I can count them on one hand, and still have fingers remaining). I've never, ever, had a guy buy me a gift for any reason whatsoever. I'm now 23 years old, and I'm wondering if I will ever have a real relationship? Will there ever be a man that wants to dote on me? Will I ever be in a relationship around a holiday? Over the years I have even modified my "prototype", to allow for men of other races, artistic life goals, and lack of a college education. I still haven't met anyone, not a single soul. I really don't want to be in my thirties, doing the dating "musical chairs" game, where I go out on dates and more dates, and try to score a good seat on a decent man's lap. To say that i'm having a slump, would be an understatement. If you really want a piece of sizzling info listen to this..... I've managed to have sex 1 time each year, for the past 3 years. So now some of you are probably thinking this entry was prompted by my hormones, but oh contrare. If I wanted to have sex, I could easily pick up a guy while i'm out, i'm just not interested in those type of encounters in the least bit. All I can do is sigh when I think about the lonesomeness 2005 could possibly have in store for me.

12/10/04

2008-11-22T15:50:00.001-05:00

Finally

So tonight I finally let everything i've been holding in about asshole out on him. I launched a very thorough verbal assault on him. Don't worry, he earned every single word of it. I was so sick of him acting dumb, and me turning the other cheek, and giving him the benefit of the doubt, and me making up excuses for his behavior. I told him just how sorry I think he is, about his cowardly ways, his neglect, his stupidity, his lack of being a good person. At first I just talked to him how I normally talk to him, but after looking at his dumb ass face I got angrier, and angrier. I finally cursed him the fuck out, and told him how much I actually hate him. I told him how I wish I'd never met him, how my life would have been better off minus him. Honestly at first I felt a little bad, then I thought about all the times I felt bad because of something he'd done, and I kept going. Honestly he was staring at me as though he'd seen a ghost. His eyes were glistening too (no bullshit). I know I must sound like a terrible person, but you have no idea what this guy has put me through this last year, almost all of 2004!!!! After 2 hours of this I finally got cold and thirsty, and decided to leave. He says he'll call tomorrow to finish receiving his verbal ass-whooping (he was at work when I went off on him), that which I don't actually believe (even though he swore to God), but that's cool. I said everything I ever wanted to say tonight, and tomorrow was just another day for me to bring his esteem down another notch.

11/17/04

2008-11-22T15:48:00.000-05:00

Dazed and Confused

So today I got another job. This is the third one this month, so far. I found a really cute purse for only $25, and I ate 2 of my favorite foods: pork chops & macaroni & cheese. All in all, one might consider this a good day. However, I can't stop thinking about my current primary source of pain, who also happens to be my current primary source of happiness. The time that we spend together is so beautiful, yet false.... I think. The way we treat one another, our raw emotions, our behaviors, the respect, its all so un-classified. When I get up and walk away from him, treat him mean, push him away, I feel terrible about it, and hope that he never calls again so we can have a "real" break-up. But in spite of all my terrible motions, he calls and pleads to know why, and how can he make it right, and is everything okay. Why is he doing this? He tells me how he appreciates our friendship, respects our union, needs our conversations....when he sees me he holds me as if it were the first time, kisses my forehead, hair, or cheek like its been much too long. He tells me he 100 percent supports any decisions I personally make, and trusts my judgment. I trust him too, I love this man more than I've ever loved another person, my desire for him comes only second to my career, he is my prototype. The problem is I don't want another man like him, I want him; the real thing. I pray about this situation, and tell God how I feel (even though he already knows), I feel like my hands and heart are tied behind my back. I can only do so much pretending.

11/12/04

2008-11-22T15:47:00.000-05:00

The Devil Is Back....

That monkey that was slowly falling off my back, is trying to make its way back up. Its a very charming monkey, but still a monkey indeed. I sort of wish he had stayed were he was these past 3 weeks. He's so oblivious to my disdain for him

11/8/04

2008-11-22T15:46:00.000-05:00

Why I am who I am

Tons of people wonder why I am the way I am. Why I choose things that seem to be the harder of tasks. Why I strive so hard to always be honest with everyone, including myself. I think Robert Frost describes it best in this poem..
THE ROAD NOT TAKEN
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

11/3/04

2008-11-22T15:45:00.001-05:00

I'm so Fucking Upset

I hate President Bush!!!!! This is the most ignorant, numb, evil, lying president we've had in a while. I happy knowing that I did my part . I seriously am seeking an international man to help me move away from here. This country is going under

10/31/04

2008-11-22T15:43:00.000-05:00

So my dreaded birthday is on Monday, and I planned a little outing for myself and a few people, due to the fact that my friends didn't want to hang out this weekend in preparation for halloween festivities on Saturday (hangovers on Sunday). However, my friend came down from up north and said she wanted to hang out so I met up with her. While on my way to pick her up, a mutual friend called and asked me for some contact info on a friend of mine that she'd never met, the gig was up. As much as I tried to suppress my cerebral abilities, I figured out the surprise. I then picked up my friend and requested to go home and change :)
We all met up and went for manicures and pedicures. Then we went over to my favorite restaurant Grand Lux for lunch, where the waiter was less than stellar, but I let him get by with it this time. All in all, it was a nice surprise, and a good beginning to my birthday. I also got my favorite fragrance as a gift: Escada Magnetism. So I was happy yesterday for a change. Thank you guys.

10/20/04

2008-11-22T15:42:00.000-05:00

I'm Fucked

I am sooooo in love with this punk. I'm sitting here thinking (2 glasses of wine deep), how much I want to be with him. Half of me hates him for his heart being somewhere else (at least half of it), and the other half of me wants to just lose myself in whoever he is. Feeling this way makes me want to leave his side, not ever speak to him again, slap him ,and curse him for making me feel this way, while at the same time surrendering to what my heart wants to be with him. This madness is sheer agony, my pain is ever more.

10/16/04

2008-11-22T15:41:00.002-05:00

Bored out of my fucking mind

I am so bored.... I feel like packing my clothes, tv, and pc into my car, and driving to a new city to set up a new life now. I hate this fucking god forsaken place.

10/14/04

2008-11-22T15:41:00.001-05:00

Full.....Finally!

I cooked grilled garlic-infused lamb chops, with Cappelini, and a Pear Cider to top it all off!!!! I'm finally full, after all these hours. Note: try to erase memories of you know who if possible- Reason you ask, because this Pear Cider was from the batch that we had at the beach a few weeks ago. When I took the bottle out of the fridge, it still had sand on it from that night.....

10/10/04

2008-11-22T15:38:00.000-05:00

Leaving Shit Behind...

So I have about 1500 dollars to my name, and I really want to utilize it in the best of ways. I must leave this state by 2005 (mid-late) in order to sustain a little sanity, and get back the dignity I used to possess. I want to leave grad school asap because I am bored out of my mind, and can't even do the most menial task associated with it. However, I enjoy my job on campus (it pays okay and I learn a lot), and I want to use my student loan money from second semester to aid in my move. I haven't been this un-happy in a long while, and I know that happiness will never return to me as long as I remain here. I don't want to leave my roommate hanging in terms of having to look for another person.... I am so bored and pained in this life which I live now. I'm almost 23 years old and I can't speak of anything, nothing, that brings joy to my existence. At this point my soul is out to lunch, my heart is near Hades, my mind reads like garbled computer language. God's purpose for my creation is to use me as a prototype for severely abused persons. Black is the color of my life abysmal, blue is the hue of my heart cold from solitude, red is the color of my eyes filled with anger, the ugliest rainbow that ever lived within a woman. My torment is everlasting, eternal. What good is a muscle that only reaps terrible misery and suffering. What good is it to experience an emotion as bleak as pain, heartache, grief, distress, torture. Every night I pray for other people even before I ask for myself. I pray for good things....nothing.
Ah, me! a wretched suffering woman I! O would that I could die! Oh, oh! Would that Heaven's levin bolt would cleave this head in twain! What gain is life to me? Woe, woe is me! O, to die and win release, quitting this loathed existence! What, wilt thou banish me, and to my prayers no pity yield?- Medea

10/9/04

2008-11-22T15:37:00.000-05:00

No sleep for the weary, bored, and heart-broken

So yesterday I had the worse sinus headache I can ever remember having in my life, so I broke-down and took some Tylenol Sinus DAY to help with my suffering. Sure enough, the day part was a lie. I was drowsy within minutes. I did everything I could to stay awake, but by 11pm I could no longer take it. I crawled into bed, just barely missing it, salivating at the thought of all the deep sleep that was about to occur- NOT!!! This medicine made me super drowsy yet, took away my ability to sleep. I tossed and turned what seemed like hours, but was actually only 2 before I got a call from the man I want, but who doesn't want me. We talked about various things in life, space, earth, including why we weren't together again. We stayed on the phone until 4am, and I was nowhere near sleepy. So I continued to toss and turn until 9am when I finally got out of bed to go meet the unattainable. He was leaving for a long international trip, and wanted to hang out beforehand. So we hung out for a few hours & got something to eat. I skipped class for this person. Upon leaving him at his home, saying goodbye really hurt as if it were actually the real thing. I have to leave here.... I'm not sure I can be around him like this, then again its hard to not be around him. I'm so fucked up in the head right now. I don't know why God would see fit to introduce my idea of the perfect man in my life, only to have him not want me. I'm so empty inside... I feel like a lonely lovebird without its partner...I can't help feeling this way. Its so hard to be strong and continue to feel these things. I don't want to live here near him, its much too much. Daggers through thine heart would not compare to the excruciating pain of this heartbreak.

10/7/04

2008-11-22T15:36:00.002-05:00

joie de vivre?

I want to just get up and fly to europe, and start living a new life. but i don't know anyone overseas, and i don't even speak any languages other than english.... i can't even convert euros to dollars. i'm so exasperated.

10/6/04

2008-11-22T15:36:00.001-05:00

where in the world is toronto?

So i'm at work with all these graham-cracker bland people, so I can't help but think about my big move later next year (2005). So far, i'm moving to Toronto but, i've never been. I don't know too much about the place except for medical services are free to citizens, U of T is manageable for citizens, Eaton Centre is really big, and I think I want to live on the downtown area, or Younge & Bloor neighborhood. I just need to get away from here... There has to be better in this world than a country who chooses a man of no wits to be its leader, and was founded on theft, lies, and murder. I want to see what else God made for us. I hate California to pieces, but I thought I needed its services to begin my career. Other countries have television and movies, I can go be a talent elsewhere. Other than that, I have tons of papers and assignments to complete (that I have no interest in), I'm looking for a second job to aid in my saving for leaving and shopping habit, I need beautiful pics to use for pilot season, I'm fighting off a very strong cold that's trying to overcome me, and lastly but not least I'm still trying to figure out a certain someone's message to me, and general motive.... I need answers in the worst way, and he provides me with nada- I'm thinking of doing a spa day for my birthday.....

10/2/04

2008-11-22T15:35:00.000-05:00

admission of guilt- its worse than you thought

So I think the best thing for me to do is to admit my feelings freely, so I can go about getting over them . I actually, really, truly, honestly, am in love with this guy. I know, I know, its a sick, sad, thing to experience. I can't get this shit out of my mind. Its there when I sleep, in my dreams, in my non-slumber reality, everywhere. I can't even gain control of my own fucking mind. Since when can the heart outwit the mind? I am a very rational, logical person, and I can't get out of this state of mind. I wish I had some technique where I could erase these thoughts from my mind, and these feelings from my heart. I feel sick....no seriously I do.

10/1/04

2008-11-22T15:34:00.000-05:00

Stupid I Am....

So i've been playing it cool with the last guy I dated lately. We've just been working on the friendship we missed out on when we were dating. I was doing a great job of ignoring my feelings for him while in his presence. It hurt like hell to be around him so frequently in similar capacities to when we were seeing each other. I was doing fine until the night I go over his place and find pictures of him and the chick he thinks he might want to be with up. Instantly I felt as if vomit would cover the floor. I told him I had to leave abruptly, and took the cowards way out by simply leaving without addressing the issue. However, by the time I made it to my car the "real me" had prevailed. I turned around and went back into the house to tell him what I was feeling. At first getting the actual message out was difficult for me. I didn't want to mess up the great thing we'd developed since parting ways, but I couldn't hold it in. I told him about my residual feelings for him, and my issue with the pics. He was gracious as ever, gentle, sweet, even apologizing and offering to take the pics down. I hate those traits in him because i'm looking for a reason to hate him. He comforts me, and tells me that everything will be okay, and that they're not even back together. After talking however, I feel the need to tell him EVERYTHING. Soooo, I tell him about the birthday surprise I had in store for him this weekend, and how stupid I feel for having did it for him. I tell him that its embarrassing for me to be doing something like what I had planned for someone who doesn't want me. Again he's sweet and reassuring of the fact that its a beautiful thing, and how he appreciates it to the fullest. So now i'm afraid i've scared him off, and we can't even be friends (even though he stated the contrary). The worst part for me I think is the fact that i'm practically in love with him, and would actually surrender my single life to marry him if he ever asked me to. I don't even believe that marriages work in today's age!!!! I'm so, so , so stupid for spilling my guts, but alas I can't help but be me. And who I am is honest & forthright.

9/27/04

2008-11-22T15:33:00.001-05:00

2 "un-official" dates with my ideal man, and a pound of procrastination later...

So I've been having these "friendly" meetings with my ideal man, and they only leave me even more confused about us, than I am about bi-sexuality (which btw I think is just plain gay). I can't be thisclose to someone I just ended things with. I can't look at them as though we've never been anything more than friends. I can't get everything about him out of my mind. All this thinking about him is driving me to procrastinate in completing my school assignments. I've never in all my life been a lollygagger. I like to get my work done in a timely manner. Because of all the memory that this issue is taking up on my hard drive, I can't really take on a whole lot of other things right now. I need to delete him from my thoughts, and make room for other things. It's difficult to do so with the "friendship" that we're building. We're closer now than when we were dating.

9/20/04

2008-11-22T15:32:00.000-05:00

Stagnation

Soooo I have so much going on right now. I started grad school a few weeks ago, and boy is it demanding. What makes it even more demanding is the fact that i'm not actually interested in what I'm studying. I am studying for a M.A. Education, hopefully graduating in July 2005. The program consists mainly of papers and discussions. Yeah Grad School!!! I am no longer officially depressed about the boy. Although it seems as though I have no control over that status. Every day is different from the last. My new job at tech support is fruitful. I am learning a lot about Macs. I hope to be as proficient in Macs as I am in PC's by the end of the term. I took my hair out , and my hair is so thin now. So, I had the hairdresser just cut it chin length. I'm going to continue without the relaxer, and perhaps try out a texturizer to capitalize on my natural curl pattern. I have soooo many bills to pay, its like i'm living to work, instead of working to live. Moving to Toronto seems more promising everyday. I'm hoping to pay off 2 of my credit cards this week. I hope I can occupy myself enough to last through living here until July. I feel as though I might just up and leave (it's happened before).

9/12/04

2008-11-22T15:31:00.000-05:00

The Incredible Empty Space Which is My Heart

Not that I was in love or anything (though I do think I was on my way) , this woman's eloquent words about how pure and thoughtful love should be when its felt touches my heart. I think I'm the only person in my generation who believes that the old school love can and should exist. The kind of love where you do literally feel incomplete without that person, when you'd do almost anything in this world for them, when you find a way to work around the fact that they just can't seem to pick up after themselves, forgive 1 infidelity, truly love them through thick and thin, when divorce is just a word; and nothing more. Introducing Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

9/11/04

2008-11-22T15:30:00.000-05:00

HMMMM....

Why would a guy call you multiple times, leave you a voicemail, then when you return his calls not call you back at all? I hate men.

9/8/04

2008-11-22T15:29:00.000-05:00

Mass Confusion, but Still Okay

So I have mass confusion as to what is going on between myself and my new "friend" (the guy I just parted ways with recently). I'm getting the same type of attention I did when we first started dating. Its like we never even had a fight. The shit is weird frankly. I rely on my ability to not call him unless i'm returning a purposely missed call of his. I can't for the life of me figure out why he would want to break things off with me, only to call me constantly to talk and hang out. I can say that it feels good though. However, I am not relying on his calling me to be the major force in me getting over him. For all I know he could stop calling out of the blue, then where would I be? In other news I started grad school yesterday. I don't really know why i'm there, i'll just stroll through hopefully all the way till' my July graduation . My roommate moved in and she seems really cool. Not cool like the last freaky friday one, honestly cool. We can share stuff without counting the grams we used, walk in each others rooms, use each others things, go out together. It looks like it'll work out. I also have 2 auditions coming up next week. So I have plenty of keep busy work, i'm just hoping it not only occupies my time, but my heart and mind as well.

9/4/04

2008-11-22T15:28:00.000-05:00

same ole' stuff

So i'm sitting in my apartment wondering why it is that i'm 22, single, intelligent, funny, open-minded, and I'm alone here. I can't stop wondering if its something i'm doing wrong to ward off any friendships or relationships with men and women. However, I feel that I am not the problem seeing as though i've lived in several different states before, and I have close friends in all of them. I make friends everywhere I go, except for here. Men find me desirable everywhere I go, except here. So I sit here at 5pm on a holiday weekend, drinking wine, listening to love songs, and dreaming of happiness somewhere or with someone. People are saying not to be pessimistic but, i'm not. I'm merely realistic, more so than the average person. I fine it so dis-heartening to sit and think about someone who doesn't want you. I can't stop my head from spinning, my heart from shriveling, my blood from coming to a complete stop.....

8/29/04

2008-11-22T15:26:00.002-05:00

Musical Version of My Journal

Sometimes the way events unfold really makes me wonder. So I've been a HUGE Faith Evans fan since her first album, and I have all of her CD's. So today I put in her "Keep the Faith" cd from like 1999 or 1998, and I let it play all the way through, whereas normally I end at "Caramel Kisses". The last track on the cd is "Lately", I had never heard it before in my life. The song is about how lately she's so down because she misses this guy real bad. She talks about how she doesn't feel like smiling, talking to her friends, doing her usual thing. I'm thinking how freaky it is that I would discover this song after all these years right now when i'm experiencing all that she's singing about. I thought Mary J hit stuff on the nose but, I could have wrote this song myself. Now I can't stop playing this song ..... It says all the things that I would write in my journal anyways so....If you want to know what's going on in my life right now just look up Faith Evans "Lately" track 15 from "Keeping the Faith" album, I swear she read my mind on this one.

8/12/04

2008-11-22T15:26:00.001-05:00

wavering strength

today's forecast: very fast-paced, yet still very cloudy, gray, sullen. i wish that once you had strength to get through a certain something, you were able to keep it indefinitely.... there's not enough love songs in the world to express the gaping hole in my heart. not enough red wine to drown my sorrows in. not enough "keep-busy" work to take my mind off of this. i wish that amorous feelings could be instantly replaced with feelings of hate.....