Day #428: My Love Is Too Magic...

...to have thrown back on my face.
It's been a few weeks and I think I just might be checking out of this emotional rehab pretty soon.  Yay!!!  Been reading some powerful shyt from the play For Colored Girls (not the movie - the play), and it's actually helping me with my withdrawal.

"My love is too beautiful to have thrown back on my face."
He was a drug.  Morphine.  Oxycontin.  Each pelvic thrust he gave me was an injection of confusion mixed with desire into my body.  His sweet words of "us" and "our future" had me skipping through poppy fields. 

I was high on Pretty Brown.  So very high. 

My nose was open like Mario (that's a "Khaki-ism").  I was on Cloud Nine, with the operative word being "I".  I thought he was on Cloud Nine with me, but his azz jumped off when I wasn't looking.  I was there alone, and on my birthday that cloud disappeared right from under me.  I came crashing down with my arms and legs flailing in wild confusion.

"You took me riding in a rocket and gave me a star,

But a half a mile from heaven you dropped me back into this cold, cold world."

Silly me.  But oddly this past Thanksgiving I gave thanks for meeting him.  I was thankful for feeling soooo good about a man, and that I thought that I met somebody so fine, so funny, so smart.  So I'll take it for what it was - even if it was for only fifteen minutes.  I won't be angry or bitter about it.  What the fluck for?  Even if he set me up with alla that sweet talk, I'm not gonna be mad this time.

So I did some house cleaning:

His number. Deleted.
His text messages.  Deleted.
His d*ck pic.  Deleted. (why was that so hard to do?)
His email address.  Blocked.
His business card with his smiling pic on it.  Burned. 

Now if I could just delete him from my mind I would be straight!  In time.  Next time you can't let these dudes get in your head so fast chick.


"My love is too Saturday Nite to have thrown back on my face."
Today is Saturday.  Been watching porn just so I can get another image of d*ck in my head instead of his.  Using my toy and dildo like three times a day (or more) to release any pent up sexual tensions.  I watched some porn while using the toy this morning.  OMG.  I told myself that I have hit rock bottom.  Giggle.  It ain't no biggie though.  Men brag about beating off all the time so why can't I?  It's better than having some fool over here wasting my time.  Last week I had THE WORST sex with this guy so I'm steering clear of niccas this holiday.  Not even answering the phone when they call.  F*ck alla y'all. 


Soooo tomorrow I'm gonna get my toes done and then maybe get a tattoo.  My first one!  Should I get the words "Sexy MF" on my lower back?  A black cat?  A cute cat?  A scorpion?  A butterfly?  Still thinking.  I will feel like such a bad azz when I get it!!!  The pain I expect from the tattoo might just clear my head. 


"My love is too complicated to have thrown back on my face."

I see the therapist Monday.  Debating whether or not I should mention about this guy or the married guy.   That married guy is done.  Over, over, over.  We have zero connection and his sex rates a solid minus 2.  Hell his fingers felt better and I give those a 7.  That's pretty bad when your fingers do a better job than your d*ck.


Anyway, I'll be cool.  I have a great love to give and it's his loss.  One day God will send me someone to give my love to (hopefully).  But in the meantime...life and love goes on. 

And that's OFFICIALLY the last post I'm making about Pretty Brown.

Chuck-chuckin' up them deuces!

Oops that doesn't mean deuces....

My bad.

You So Nasty!

Someone hit up my site Googling this question:

"what does a woman asshole taste like."

All kinds of shyt popped in my head when I read this one.

Comment if you dare!

Day #418: Ten Confessions

When I woke up this morning I was actually feeling allright.  I am supposed to be going to pitch my business to a developer tonight and then I was gonna hit up karaoke at the bar after that.  I was feeling pretty good and woke up ready to hustle.

But when I got to work I just felt sick in my stomach.  I felt lost and confused. 

I feel like I'm keeping a secret and I think I just need to confess to it.

I feel like I wanna die. 

Last week I imagined that I drove to the George Washington Bridge and jumped from it.  Sometimes I sit in my running car in the garage and think about closing the door.  Sometimes I stand at the subway platform and imagine stepping in front of the train.  On my birthday I stood in my room in the dark and just kept repeating over and over how sad I was that day.  Over and over and over.  Sad because that man didn't call me to say happy birthday.  So stupid of me.

"Take a good look at my face,
You see my smile looks out of place,
Come a bit closer it's easy to trace,
The tracks of my tears."

People ask me how was my birthday and I just lie and change the subject.  I hadn't felt that way in a long time and it sucked azz.  I went to bartend and wore the sexiest dress just to get some attention.  And when I got it all I did was blow them off.

Sometimes I hate being me.  I think the REAL reason that I don't have kids because I don't want anyone to look like me.  If my kid can't be guaranteed to be beautiful or handsome then why make it hard on them and bring them here?  I have been pregnant four times.  One I miscarried, the other three were _____________.  I know I might get roasted for revealing that.  Oh well.

If I had a baby then I would have a reason to stay here I guess?  I probably would never go thru with the thoughts that I have sometimes.  If I tell the therapist then she might have me sent to the hospital.  You have to be careful what you tell them.  I mentioned something once and she said to call her if I ever felt like doing something though.  I think she senses that I get very sad sometimes.

So today I have decided to confess to a few things, in the hopes of feeling liberated in some sort of way. 

TEN CONFESSIONS

1. I had sex with a married man.  Why?  Who the f*ck knows.  He had a smelly d*ck anyway.
2. I have had sex with guys who had girlfriends.
3. I feel suicidal sometimes.
4. I feel like I don't want to see my family as much.
5. I stare at other women.  Not like I want them, but if they are pretty I stare at them.  I guess I am thinking about how easy she has it or how the dudes love her because she has those boobs or that azz or that face or hair. 
6. When I see a man or a group of men standing on the street; I cross the street.  It's silly and I know this, but I do this to protect myself.  If they don't speak then I won't be thinking, "Why they didn't speak to me?  I'm not good looking enough?"  But if they do speak, I get uncomfortable and kinda don't believe they are being sincere.  So to avoid those thoughts altogether...I just cross the street.  Sometimes I suck it up and just do it and pass them and not cross the street.  But the real question is why do I even care about these fools and them speaking in the first place?!!!!!   
7. I avoid eye contact with men.  I don't look at them in the face very often.   Eyes are windows to the soul and I don't want them to get a sense of mine I guess.
8. I don't remember guys names very well even after screwing them.  I'll ask to see their driver's license as a joke or something days later when in reality I am really trying to find out what their name is.  I do that A LOT.
9. I don't take compliments well at all.  People were mean to me when I was little girl and in my first year in high school.  In Chicago, light skinned chicks with long hair got all the attention at my high school it seemed.  I had such a bad complex.  Really bad.  I used to sit on the bus with my face hidden in my coat because I didn't want people to look at me.  Kids used to make jokes about my full lips and hair.  Now my post about 'whipping out my hair' makes more sense right?  So now when people compliment me it's hard to believe them.  I guess when I got older things started to look better, because when I went to my high school reunion all these great things were said.  Now full lips are in style I guess?  Who the f*ck knows.  But still, I never really got over all of that stuff ya know. 
10. Finally, I think I will be by myself forever.  An Old Maid like my tired looking cousin Delores  (sorry but it's true).  Love is something you hear about in songs and watch in movies.  It seems like a fantasy - like winning the lottery.  It's like it's a million to one chance that you will ever truly find it.

I know this is a somber post and I am not looking for sympathy or 'be strong' responses (if I get any responses lol).  Don't need anyone to diagnose me because I have a therapist for that!  I'm on it.  Someone might even use what I wrote against me to make me feel worse than I already do (it happened before on this blog).  But I just feel weird today.  Yeah the dude triggered some of it, but this life is just getting to me.  I gotta keep asking myself why am I here?  Would it matter if I wasn't? 

Aiight...back to work.  The air is clear.

Finally Swallowing This Pill

From my phone:

Beautiful day. Too bad I have to swallow this pill. The pill called realization.

He ain't too busy. He just ain't into me. Too stupid to see that. Or I saw it and kept looking away.


Eight hours later...

Why am I feeling uh, liberated?

Because I'm too old for this mind trip bullshyt with men that's why. Heading in this bar to make this money from these fools. Nobody better f@ck with me tonight I know that much!

Day #401: Birthday Eve

Damn is it November again already?  My birthday is tomorrow. 

It's been hard for me to think about what to blog about because my mind has been distracted.  I have been buying tons of shoes and wigs off the internet and it's not making any sense.  And then I put on the shoes and they are hurting and giving me blisters and shyt after I just fixed my damn toes last April!  Hate that about new shoes.  I told the therapist about it the other day, and I think she wanted to laugh when I told her that I was buying all of these damn wigs.  I think she was waiting for me to laugh, but I didn't so she didn't.  LOL.  Then she told me that I have been thru a lot over the past few years (roommate shyt, landlord shyt, business shyt, lawyer shyt, bankruptcy shyt, dude farting in my cube shyt) and that this shopping thing might be some sort of release for me. 

And then he said the "L" word...

Pretty Brown got my head all f*ckd up now.  Yeah I know, I know. I said I dropped him about two weeks ago.  But that only lasted about six days.  He is still all over the place and not really available, but his words have me caught up.  And then he said the "L" word again.  Yep he did.  Usually I cringe when a dude tells me that, but not this time.  Do I believe him?  Maybe.  Actions speak louder than words.  I didn't say it back though - well I kinda didn't say it back.  This madness with his schedule is an issue that is not going away, and I don't care how sugary sweet his words are.  I must really like him though cuz I'm even thinking about letting him see my real hair this weekend (after I flat iron out all of the curly fries of course).  That's a big step if I'm thinking about a nucca seeing my REAL hair.  Should I tell him that?  LOL.  Nah.

In other news...

• Farts and Boogers finally got fired last week.  Fresh air is finally back in my cubicle unless I sit here and fart myself.  (wink)
• That side d*ck that I got last week was not good at all.  When he was done he went into the bathroom and I hurried up and pulled out my toy to finish the job.  In less than two minutes I was good.  I was trying to be quiet but he heard me!  "Are you allright?".  "Um,  yeah.  Just trying to get myself off real quick."  Yep, I was real about it.  I saw his speechless silhouette standing in the doorway, and then I turned over and snuggled up to my pillow smiling.  I should have just done that in the first place anyways.  Skrait up.

• I wore three different wigs in the same week.  That's a personal record - and also a sign of shameless vanity.  I guess my inner "Regine from Living Single" has been coming out lately.  But it's kinda cool to be long and silky on Monday and short and sassy on Saturday.  It's like I'm a different girl and I figure dudes would like that.  I remember I had this blue Lil' Kim style wig back in the 90s and this boyfriend I had always would ask me to put it on during sex.  He loved seeing me in that thing.  Maybe he was imaging I was Lil' Kim?  Hmmm...never thought about until now.

• I'm really starting to have an issue with Asian chicks too.  Well maybe not an 'issue' but I have taken more notice to them, that's for sure.  Ever since Hot Chocolate told me he didn't want a Black girl and only wanted an Asian chick I have been BURNT UP about the subject.  I find myself looking at them on the street and wondering why the f*ck guys think these chicks are so much better.  It's like you hardly ever see them with another Asian guy to be honest.  Think about it.  It's always some 'other' race that they are always with.  I'll save my rant on that issue for another post.  Not gonna get into it right now.

• I have to decide what I am going to do about reopening my business.  I am giving myself a deadline of May 2011.  The hold up is money though.  I need serious paper to get that up and running again.

• I think I'm gonna volunteer at a funeral home to see if I want to go to morturary school next summer.  I have been trying hard to think of a recession proof business, and hallelujah I think I have found it!  A friend hooked me up with a guy whose uncle owns a funeral home (the guy sounded sexy as hell on the phone too).  Anyway, I am gonna give him a call today and see what he will let me do at the funeral home.  Let's hope I can get the chance to observe how the business runs and to see if it is for me.  I hope I have the tolerance for it!  If I do that just might be my next endeavor.  Shyt we all have to die - bad economy or not.  I mean seriously, how many funeral homes close for lack of business.  Not many I bet.

• Made the mistake and gave this chump my number about three weeks ago.  Called me and I didn't remember who he was and I thought he was an old friend from years ago to be honest.  Then all of a sudden, he starts masturbating on the phone!  No lie.  Breathing all heavy and everything.  I just humored him at first but after the third time he called I realized that it was NOT my old friend after all!  Dayum! I immediately shut him down.  I know.  I should have done that to begin with whether he was a friend or not.  Sigh.  I'm a little off sometimes myself.

So back to the birthday for now.  It's about nine hours away.  Gonna be bartending tonight so maybe the folks in the bar will sing a song to me at midnight??  We'll see how many of these fools who swore they were gonna take me out or get me something for my bday actually come thru.  But on second thought, I hope they don't come through.   I just want them to prove themselves to be the lames that I already suspect them to be.  It will make my job at lot easier.

And so the countdown begins...

T-minus 8 hours...