Cleaning House

Since my blogroll was deleted when I was template-hopping, allow me to take this time to clean house. If I've commented on your blog and you've never commented back...DELETE.

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)

Jenny

The Breaking Point aka LH

E

Modern Isis

Neemie

Trina

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...

Are We All Just Teenagers?

On my way to work, I saw this couple in the train station. He looked
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
longer.)

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.

*sigh*

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
the air*)

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
tricks.

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?

Eureka!

I think I might actually like my new template....

*gasp*

*passes out*

*comes back to life*

Now, I have to fix my "Blogs I Read" and sitemeter...

*sigh*

Positivity

Before I left the house, I told myself, "Smile. Be happy. Stop writing
about your depression. Stop writing about Afroman. Write about the funny
people you see..the silly things people do. Pick yourself up off the
kitchen floor."

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.

He's hunky.

*giggles*

My iPod was blaring in my ears, so I almost walked away unfazed my his
handsomeness.

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)

*giggles*

We chatted about nothing. He asked for my number so we could get dinner
sometime.

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.

*giggles*

Que Sera Sera

Nothing's really going on right now. Just the usual bull-ish.

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
de Garcones'

Ahhh yes...late for work...again!

Mommy Dearest

So, my mom's birthday was 3 days ago. It kind of came and went. I wished
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.

Restless

I want to change my template but I don't know to what.

I apologize for the schizophrenia.