Sunday, March 30, 2008
Call me sensitive. Call me bitchy. Call me a pirate, I don't care. But, if I come to your site and I drop a note, the least you could do is acknowledge it.
(Shout-out to Eb the Celeb)
It doesn't have to be that day or even in that post, but a quite nod of recognition that I did read your comment. I might not have agreed with it or understood your psycho-babble, but thank you for caring enough to respond.
Anywhosies! Those who I've left several comments and did not care to say, "thanks for stopping by," or anything...see-ya!
With that said,
I appreciate you: (these are hyperlinks)
The Breaking Point aka LH
Because! I've been a SourPatchKid lately and...yea....you've been putting up with my ish, probably holding your breath til I come out of my funk...
like Chris Brown, she looked like this Indian model I saw in an OPI ad.
They looked to be no more than 17 years old, necking on the subway
platform at 6 in the morning.
My initial reaction was that of longing (haha!). Then, I was curious. I
wanted to know where these kids were coming from or going to at 6am and
what her parents were thinking/going to say to her. I remember being 21
and coming home at 4 am was like a slap in the face to my mom, after she
called my phone like 50-11 times. Then, I remembered...necking. Ooohhh
lala. And I thought about my Blair Underwood resting (hopefully) in his
own bed on my street. (I can claim ownership for having lived there
Ahhhh, Blair. I have to come up with a better moniker out of fear those
who don't read me regularly will think you're a lady. (*snicker*)
Anywho...I wonder if he likes to kiss.
I love to. I remember hungry kisses of adolescence when going all the
way was still a vague idea in the back of your mind. Hungry fingers
allowed to explore anywhere but there (!!!)...I mean unless we'd been
dating for more than a couple of months. Having a good kiss was like
having whipped cream on top of hot chocolate in the Winter.
I miss those more innocent times. Seeing those two kids made me wander
down memory lane back down to my own silacious affairs. Kissing in the
hall in high school. He was in the science program, I was in the arts
program. We would go for a "bathroom break" and meet half-way and
yummmm until we knew that our peers would either know what we were up to
or think we had diarrhea or until the security guards would catch us.
I remember it being sunny outside. School would be over in a month or 2.
Meeting my date in the park, sitting on his lap and smooch. I thought I
was so grown.
I remember my and Afroman's first kiss. He's a full foot and 2 inches
taller than me. I was trying to make a move on him. It was freezing
outside. We were both on Spring Break our freshman year of college. I
was still very pro-black with my one of my colorful headwraps on. I'd
just discovered blue eyeliner and was just realizing my own beauty.
Anyway, we took a walk through Prospect Park. We walked through it all
day. We held hands nervously. We joked around. We talked about his
skateboarding tricks. Night fell and it was time for us to go home. I
said, "Kiss me you idiot." Or something really aggresive that I thought
would make me sound hot. He leaned down and pow! Fireworks. "I wished
you'd done that earlier," I said. Its crazy that that was 5 years ago
and I still remember.
The last two guys I was involved in were not good kissers. Or rather,
they didn't respect the art of the kiss as I do. Kissing for them was
just a segway into what they wanted. No more! (*throws index finger in
Hopefully, Blair can kiss. A girl can't go back on her own rules. Even
if he can't, a girl can try to teach an older gentleman some new
Speaking of Blair, he's in trouble. I've been fantasizing about dates;
planning outfits and pedicure colors. I'm a trip. I better call him
before he forgets about me....
Anywhosies! I said all of that, (*glances up nervously*), to say that
are we all just teenagers wishing we could neck on the train or on park
benches but glad that we're grown enough to go the distance?
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
about your depression. Stop writing about Afroman. Write about the funny
people you see..the silly things people do. Pick yourself up off the
Of course, I was running late for work. Of course, I still stopped to
put concealer and eyeliner on. I threw my sidekick in my purse and ran
out the door. I realized I wanted to change my away message before I got
to work. I stopped and fished through my purse for my phone at one of my
neighbors gates. One of them came out.
My iPod was blaring in my ears, so I almost walked away unfazed my his
He said, "How r u?"
I said, "Good Morning," an octave too high. Pulled on ear bud out of my
ear and smiled. "I'm your neighbor from down the block."
He said, * my name is blair underwood. lets go to your place and get
jiggy with it* (just playin)
We chatted about nothing. He asked for my number so we could get dinner
It was normal. Comfortable. He's tall. At least 6"2'. Medium-dark
complexion. Bald head. Solid. 27 years old.
I'm smiling at random strangers on the train while I'm typing this.
Thinking positively. My outfit is so cute. Dark jeans. White beat-up
converse I wear everyday. Brown bomber jacket (vintage - it was my dad's
in like 1989). Mustard pashmina scarf. Lime green purse, big enough to
carry my high-heeled boots, extra make-up, magazine, and other girly
necessities. My nails are nice and manicured, a magenta fruit punch. My
hair is parted on the side and falls perfectly framing my face and
cascades down my shoulders. The scarf is wrapped around my hair, so some
of it is sticking out. Very rushed, a little cute but messy. :D
I'm totally geeking! Today has to be a good day.
There might be something to this positive attitude. My reward might just
be a chocolate covered ma-yun.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
I feel like a shadow of myself. I can't really wrap my head around
anything these days. I'm just up int clouds and I have to make myself
focus. Like nothing matters. If I got fired today, I would just go home
and sleep. I've been contemplating seeking counseling. Its just the
money issue. That would be $150 per check that I would devote to that.
Although I need it, I can't afford it.
This reminds me of someone who said they had a nervous breakdown. They
said they just didn't care anymore. Like they couldn't be bothered with
getting up in the morning or anything. This could be the early stages of
me having a nervous breakdown (!!!). I'm only half-kidding. I've tried
to work this out the free way, by talking to my girl friends. I don't
think they get it. I think they all want me to be ok, so they are in
denial more than I am. Funny how that works...eh. If only I could will
my worries away and *poof*
I need to do something (stat!). This is affecting my writing.
On another note, I've been making more of an effort to be apart of my
gay son's life. He is a freakin handful. I think as a sort of scared
straight tactic people should mentor a gay man who's in his late
teens/early 20's. That shit is freakin crazy. He's done more in his life
sexually than I could even picture myself doing. His ambition level
needs to be higher and thts what he and I fight about. A lot. He wants a
retail job. I told him he should go for something clerical so that he
could have it on his resume. No. He wants to work at stupid H&M for the
discounts. *shakes head*
I know he needs me in his life. The eternal voice of reason, even if
that voice gets hoarse trying to get his silly ass to listen. But what
can I say, I love him.
Next month, another ball. This time in D.C. (Yay!)
I'm actually excited. I have to look like a Bond Girl. That says big
hair, tight dress, and guns...woo hoo!
What else.....hmmmmm........I dunno. I found 2 bands I like. Yelle and
Brazilian G irls. They're from France. Really interesting music.iif you
download Brazilian Girls, my fave song is "Lazy Lover." Yelle, "A Cause
Ahhh yes...late for work...again!
Sunday, March 23, 2008
her a happy birthday. But besides that, there was not a lot of fanfare
on my part.
There wasn't much fanfare on her part for my birthday.
Its not like this is a tit for tat thing but it is what it is. I was
broke and hoping for the cable and my cell to not be turned off in time
for Friday's paycheck that is now a mere $100 on my coffee table that's
slowly dwindling anyway.
What can I say?
I felt bad because this year, she has gotten this shit end of the stick
because I've been broke. I've had no money since I moved out on my own.
So, yes, Christmas, birthday, everything...probably Mother's Day will
come and go and I will feel like lint because I'm just trying to make it
to the next paycheck.
I think that yes, I could've tried harder. But, I would've tried harder
if every chance I got, I wasn't getting judged. Sheesh. Everytime I turn
around, she's telling me how I should live my life. I know that she only
wants the best for me by telling me I should go to church and that I
shouldn't stays out all night....
I'm just asking myself....where is the woman who once told me she went
out on a night so cold her mother told her that only dogs and whores
were going to be out.
She told her mother that she'd bark that night.
Or maybe, she's turned into her mother.
But now that I think of it, all my friends got the shit end of the
stick. The black and white of it, I'm STRUGGLING.
She doesn't support the struggle, its almost as if she's enjoying it.
Like an "I told you so" that went way too far.
But I should know my family by now. I shouldn't expect for anyone to
rally around me and nurture and support me and they shouldn't expect for
me to do that either.
That, is the saddest fact of it all.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Thursday, March 20, 2008
The song was "Simply Put, I Love You." At first, I mused that it was meant for Afroman as most things things with love I equate to him. I saw myself not leaving the train station. I wanted to simply cross to the other side and go home to sleep, to lay in bed, and be poetic. I wanted the warmth of my emotions and to be with myself.
And India.Arie's song "Headed in the Right Direction" played and I felt like it was a sign. I visualized myself on the bus calling my boss to tell her I have bad cramps and can't walk.
But, it was just athought I have to work to eat.
This is my responsibility as an adult. I stopped to write this blog with hope in my heart that I made the right choice.
I realized that the Lizz Fields song was not for Afroman at all. It is for me.
Simply put, I love me.
I think I'm finally ready to face the day.
The song was "Simply Put, I Love You." At first, I mused that it was
meant for Afroman as most things with love I equate to him. I saw myself
not leaving the train station. I wanted to simply cross to the other
side and go home to sleep, to lay in bed and be poetic. I wanted the
warmth of my emotions to myself.
And India.Arie's song "Headed in the Right Direction" played and I felt
it was a sign. I visualized myself on the bus calling my boss to tell
her I have bad cramps and can't walk.
But, it was just a thought. I have to work to eat. This is my
responisibility as an adult. I stopped to write this blog with the hope
in my heart that I made the right choice as I'm walking into work.
I just realized that song isn't for Afroman at all. It is for me.
Simply put, I love me.
I think I'm finally ready to face the day.
Monday, March 17, 2008
I keep asking myself, as I poke through my favorite bloggers.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I haven't been eating properly or sleeping well. Its beginning to take its toll.
Maybe that's why I haven't been blogging regularly. Because before I can let you guys in on what's been going on, I have to admit it to myself.
Sometimes, I think I'm losing my mind. I can't remember certain things from one moment to the next. I've always been applauded for my awesome memory. At the same time, I remember things from early childhood.
I'm so lonely.
Even with 250 phonebook contacts and friends all around me. Inside, I'm fucking empty.
I miss Afroman every day because what he represented. A man in my life that could hold me. He could tell me it would be ok.
It's not ok for me.
Tomorrow, my cell phone will be off. My brother told me he would pay the bill.
Why did I trust?
Thursday, my cable will probably be off,too.
I'm a mess. I told Afroman today, I need a chaperone. He didn't understand what I was saying. He called me weird.
What I meant was, I need someone to make it better. I need someone to take care of me. I'm doing a shitty job of it.
I need somoene to love me.
These days, I miss my father. He's probably that strong man I long for. He could fix anything. When he was good,he was great.
I feel like I have nothing. I feel like I am nothing.
Who is this person I am becoming?
I'm so tired of being lonely. And my friends think I am the Superwoman. They think I'm beautiful and talented. They think I am really something. They don't hear me.
They don't hear me when I say..when I show them who I really am.
No one sees me.
I'm sick of the disappointment in life. Of the constant hope that it will get better. I feel pathetic when it doesn't. Like a fool saving her quarters because they'll be worth thousands one day.
I guess this is all for tonight..
Sunday, March 16, 2008
"I want to be your sugar daddy. I own my own construction company. Let's go to a hotel. We'll fill out your W-2. We'll process a direct deposit. My offer is $3,000 bi-weekly. You won't get payment today. But, it'll be there 2 weeks from now."
And I paused.
Shocked and a little intrigued.
I looked at my life in technicolor. The looming T-Mobile payment, due Tuesday or it's chopped, the past due Cablevision bill, rent, Keyspan, and ConEd are due with this week's paycheck, and my mom's birthday is Thursday.
And I looked at myself. Flirting with an older white gentleman in a bar on a Thursday nigh and asked myself to look at me through his eyes.
And I declined.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
I thought he was quirky.
Funny enough to talk to.
We were doing the dance. The two step of getting to know each other.
Then he leaned over and said....
"I'll pay you $40 to go in the bathroom and give me your panties"
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Firstly, I asked permission to give work out to our sister companies. I
was granted that permission by one of the heads while his 2 assistants
witnessed it. I asked at 11:30 am.
It turns out that we were less busy than anticipated.
I got slammed for doing it.
The shit hit the fan. The person I got permission from lied and said
that he didn't tell me I could do it at first. Then he recanted and said
he did, but at 1pm and not at 11:30. Instead of the admin asking the
assistants who were present, he went on that one person's word.
It was suggested that I'm getting paid off by these sister companies to
give them work. The more work you get the more money you make. To say
that is absurd is an understatement especially if I had to choose
between a 2-week metrocard and paying my ConEd bill in full today.
Friday, I got $1 raise. Which was overshadowed by me getting in trouble
for messing up on 2 jobs. This is 2 jobs out of 100. Instead of saying
98 were great, they said u really gotta work on these 2 cause this is
horrible horrible horrible.
Saturday, my friends and I drove down to VA. I lost my competition. I'm
forcing myself to be indifferent. It's hard because I really put a lot
into my costumes.
Sunday, we drove back. It was a fun trip.
I'm back home now, feeling beat up in more ways than one.
Friday, March 7, 2008
I wanted to pull my hair out but I paid too much money for it.
Another chick doesn't like me. Ask me if I care. I think it's
I really can't deal with anything heavy right now.
I wish I had a drink.
The story I was writing was becoming a lot. I've decided not to write
for a little while. At least until the weekend is over.
Hopefully, I'll be able to approach life with fresh eyes.
There's just this thing inside me I have to get out. Like being pregnant
with no due date in sight.
In other news, this weekend I'll be in Virginia, offering my beauty up
for judgement. I really want to win.
Keep your fingers crossed.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Some things just aren't going to happen. But. I try.
I'm in a weird space right now. I'm trying to chalk it up to me being an artist and needing chaos around me.
My Type-A personality hates chaos but the writer in me needs it to focus all of that energy.
Its like studying with music blaring in your ears so that you can concentrate.
I need to get my shit together because I feel like an ash-bucket. Like one of those snot-nosed kids that just sit in the middle of the street and cry.
I've gained weight. Arrgh!
So, does this mean that I'll be a world-reknowned author but be heavy and scatter-brained??
Sunday, March 2, 2008
of like, being caught in a lie and being forced to admit the lie.
Needless to say.......
He didn't call. I text him Friday afternoon. I called and left a message
yesterday early afternoon which has gone unreturned.
I've learned my lesson. I knew it was a mistake while it was happening.
I messed up.
It won't happen again.
I got hurt. I did it to myself.
I feel so utterly disappointed in my judgement.
That's another truth that's not so nice to admit.
I'm in such a weird place in my life. My up is my down and my down is up
and I'm trying to just be ok.
I can only hope for the best.